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hyunverse · 1 month

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wherever you are ☆ hwang hyunjin.

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

wc: 12.9k words.

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

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

playlist.

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

one.

“Happy Birthday, Hyunjin.”

It was Hyunjin’s 10th birthday.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hyunjin’s heart skipped a beat.

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

You’re a girl.

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

A very pretty girl.

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

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

“I love it soooo much. Thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“White!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You pouted, “but that’s what I want!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re my best friend in the world!”

Hyunjin felt like he could die.

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

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

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

two.

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

“Have you asked me the same thing before?”

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

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

“It so was!”

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

You queried again.

“What did you answer then?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A fact you didn't want to accept.

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

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

“Hm?”

“Would you be wherever I am?”

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

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

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

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

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

Dear universe, be good to me.

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

“I’ll be wherever you are too.”

Yeah, Hyunjin would love it if time froze.

three.

Don’t be a coward.

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

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

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

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

Okay, step number one failed.

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, Hyunjin really didn’t like him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

“Hyunjin, what’s up?”

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

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

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

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

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

“You were saying?”

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

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

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

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

four.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How was he meant to tell you about Paris?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Especially when he was leaving — oceans away.

five.

Hyunjin had always loved soccer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s Yn, isn’t it?”

“Huh?”

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

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

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

“The fact that you like her?”

“Yeah.”

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

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

“Why?”

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

“I mean —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bitter truths, but true regardless.

six.

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

“Please, stay patient. Will you?”

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

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

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

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

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

Hyunjin had brought you to a flower field.

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

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

You were as pretty as the flowers.

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

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

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

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

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

Like a scene from a movie.

Like he wasn’t going away soon.

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

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

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

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

“You look good from any angle.”

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

“Okay…”

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

“You didn’t even count to three!”

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

“I wasn’t ready!”

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

“So you’re calling me pretty?”

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

Right. He has never.

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

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

Hyunjin wanted to keep this forever.

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s my camera film. So it’s mine!”

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

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

Hyunjin didn’t know what to do now.

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

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

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

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

Paris. The one-way plane ticket to Paris.

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

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

“I win.”

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

“Oh.”

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

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

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

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

“See you soon?” you mumbled.

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, see you soon.”

The last words Hwang Hyunjin muttered to you.

seven.

One day before your birthday.

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course.”

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

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

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

“My girl, did he not tell you?”

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

Was there?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All traces of Hyunjin were gone.

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

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

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

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

Your best friend was truly gone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

eight.

“Coffee, or tea?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hyunjin wanted to turn back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

nine.

There are five stages of grief.

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

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

Motivation.

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

Perhaps, it was distraction, disguised as motivation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He resembled too much like Hyunjin — your Hyunjin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were confused.

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

You turned towards her, “Exhibitions?”

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

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

“Secret lover?”

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

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

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

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

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

ten.

You truly tried to be happy for Hyunjin.

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

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

Clearly, you failed at convincing yourself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until your eyes trailed to a certain piece.

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

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

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

It was a fragment of your memory.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s you, too. You’re here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please, give me a second chance.”

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

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

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

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

“It's always been you.”

eleven.

“Careful — come on, get under here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How’d you find this place?”

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

Your heart swelled at the confession.

“It does resemble that one a lot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You still have the feet of a ballerina.”

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

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

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

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

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

You kissed him, for the second time that night.

“I’m already yours, Hyunnie.”

twelve.

Things with Hyunjin had been going exceptionally well.

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

You couldn’t deny it, of course.

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

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

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

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

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

“Then come cuddle.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You coming to the exposition?”

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes widened at the words written on the screen.

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

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

Over a week ago.

Yet Hyunjin hadn't told you anything.

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

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

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

thirteen.

You hadn't seen Hyunjin for a week.

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

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

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

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

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

Damn you, Reine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Trembling, you parted your lips to speak.

“You’re hiding things from me.”

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

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

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

Ah.

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

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

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

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

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

Love, sometimes, is about being selfish after all.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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elixrr · 2 months

Text

Valentines Day：Stages of Love!

STAGES：how they fell in love (1), them as they pin for you (2), how they plan the confession (3), their confession (4)

ft：GAMING (1.8k words), WANDERER (2k words)

FIC：fluffy headcanons + their confession to you in dialogue!｜day 1 of my late valentines event...

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ “You received some mail...”

➥ “...Read it?”

— ➢ GAMING：

STAGE 1 - how he fell in love with you.

➥ It was spontaneous, really. It didn’t really occur to him at the time, but you had your kamera out, and you were taking photos of the scenery around you two. The day started out as a simple hangout between two friends– two best friends. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, either. You went around Qiaoying village, checking out the stalls and simply having a good time in each other's company, until you went on a small little raft with him. Sailing the lakes of Liyue, you took pictures of Teyvat's golden hour, and Gaming couldn't help but stare; he watched your light and serene smile while taking and printing photos to keep for yourself and give to him. As previously mentioned, it didn't occur to him at first, but there was a swelling in the beat of his heart, Gaming nearly thought he was sick, but he wasn't. He tore his eyes away once, and they automatically dragged back to you, like his eyes were your loyal puppy, always wanting to see you and be by your side.

Eventually, it wasn’t just his eyes that longed for you.

You were admirable in his eyes, it seemed. After the hangout, the feelings continued to linger in his heart. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach, a smile broke into his expression– a little brighter than usual– and he couldn't bring himself to sleep that night. Tossing and turning in his sheets, but not from a nightmare. Gaming was horribly confused; why was he feeling like this? A slight burning feeling simmered within; if only he could hold you right at this moment.

That's when it hit. And it hit hard.

STAGE 2 - how he's pining for you.

➥ Gaming's crush on you became more persistent. He's heard a story or two from his friends and how crushes typically lasted between a few weeks to three months, and any longer than that would just mean they're head over heels. So, not wanting to push anything that could hurt later, he waited patiently— or, at least, he tried to wait as patiently as he could. Patience was something that he eventually lost. Eventually, as in, he was stripped of nearly all of his patience after the first week. Gaming was never the type to get super jealous, he loved people— he still does— and it shines in how extroverted and eccentric he is, but sometimes when you spoke to people and seemed to have more fun with them than you did with him, he would get... Rather insecure. He once asked you if you were getting bored of him, and he was immediately proven wrong.

After the span of three months was over, he still found himself head over heels for you. It chilled out a little more, he can control how he acts again, but everyone notices that extra jump in his step, the extra sparkles in his eyes when you draw near, and especially the slightly larger smile he carries around with him before hanging out with you, while hanging out with you, and just a little after he hung out with you. Gaming was adorable with how smiley he became with you around, and when you brought it up, he became really flustered. If you catch onto things easily, then you probably figured out that he likes you. If not, then don't worry because he's going to plan to confess.

Though, it takes almost a full year of having a crush on you for him to realize that he needs to confess.

There was indeed a time when Gaming thought he was going to lose his chances. You and Chongyun grew closer. Gaming didn't know Chongyun that well, but you introduced him to the small little hangouts. Gaming was fine at first, but once he was called over by one of his relatives during a stroll around Qiaoying Village. By the time he could get back to you two, you were having the time of your life, and Chongyun seemed ecstatic. Gaming knew that he had issues with his yang energy, hence why he was so composed half of the time, but to see him breaking out of that composure with you? Gaming stopped in his tracks that day. He followed behind the two of you but didn't bother to let either of you know. Of course, with a swell in his heart when you noticed him first, you brought him back into the conversation. Though, he was quieter. He was a little duller than he usual. Where did his smile go? Where did his bright, sparkly eyes go? What about that spring in his step every time you spoke to him? It's not that he lost interest in you. No, it's that he thought you were losing interest in him. Eventually, he realized that he should probably ask Chongyun if he liked you. That question took weeks to muster the courage up for.

When he got around to asking and he learned that you and Chongyun were just really chill friends, all of the spring, spark, and smile that he lost all came back to him. But now the question stood tall.

Did you even like him back?

He was advised by Chongyun and Xinqiu to confess, and that's when all of the planning began.

STAGE 3 - him planning the confession.

➥ Chongyun and Xinqiu were kind enough to help Gaming with his confession. The original plan was for him to just serenade you during a romantic ride on those bamboo rafts, but Chongyun worried for the third wheeling boatman, so they all devised a plan for the giddy Gaming. Gaming will ask you to ride a raft with him, and Xinqiu will dress up so that you wouldn't recognize him. He'll also be there for the friendly wingman support. Chongyun will have the area feel colder but won't freeze the lake itself. Even while Gaming cringed at the whole idea, Xinqiu and Chongyun agreed to it. It's too romantic to pass up, Gaming giving you his hoodie when you're cold in supposedly warm weather is too good to become a lost opportunity. The plan, after a few hours of playing cards, eating dim sum, and snacking on winter melon cakes, was set. When the weather's good, Gaming will take you out on a boat ride as per usual, but there's suddenly an expensive price for a boat ride. Before you can even think to take your wallet out, he'll whip out some mora and give it to the disguised Xinqiu, plus an extra tip. Then, Xinqiu will use a mini music box that he received from his Fontanian friend, and some cute, romantic music will play in the background. After some talking, you should be able to notice a sudden cold wind with the help of Chongyun and a wandering friend named Kazuha, then Gaming will lend you his hoodie with the excuse that he's fine and he can take the cold. This will all happen around the golden hours of Liyue, just like how it was when he first caught feelings for you, and just before sunset, Gaming will pull out a fresh Qixing by Xinqiu's area, and he'll confess. Whether or not you accept is up to you, and that alone is enough to wreck his brain.

The planning is done; the date is picked between the three, plus Kazuha's approval. All that's left is for the confession to be carried out.

STAGE 4 - the confession.

➥ Now, it was time to confess. Oh, how terrifying the thought and much more nerve-racking the feeling. Gaming met you by the river, and you looked as stunning as ever. Funnily enough, this was your usual fit, your typical and casual clothes, but something felt more different. Gaming's heart beat with love and a little nervousness. Strangely, you already had your wallet out, so on the way to the raft, Gaming was sure to keep his hand in his pocket, making sure that he had all of the mora ready for the raft payment. He kept a flowing conversation, and you, as usual, kept it cool as well. It momentarily paused when you both saw the disguised Xinqiu, but something felt off in Gaming's gut when you took his hand and lead him to the raft, which, funnily enough, was the last available raft nearby.

“Hello, my dearest friends. Would you like to ride on this fine raft?”

A smile grows on your face before Gaming can say anything.

“Yes, we'd love to.”

Your hand squeezes Gaming's tightly when you shift your gaze and smile over to him. He's distracted momentarily, blushing at the feeling of your fingers interlocking with his.

“How wonderful! That will be 10,000 mora, please.” Xinqiu politely bows with his hand out, extending towards you, and you're suddenly closer to Xinqiu to pay for the raft.

This is bad, super bad! You hand over the necessary mora to Xinqiu and wink at him, lending a hand over to help Gaming up onto the raft. You're strangely prepared for this, hell, you're even wearing... Something warm. That's. Not good. The plan isn't going the way he needs it to! Gaming watches you take the seat next to him and admire the scenery around. He's nervous, evident by how he constantly plays with his fingernails, or how his sight spills all over the place— how he flickers his eyes over to you, then to the waters beneath the gaps of the bamboo. He aligns his sight with the direction of the raft, and he watches the ripples of the water flow with the serene waters of the lake. It's calming slightly, but there's still the nervous pound in his heart.

Gaming looks back at you. You have your kamera out, and you're taking photos of the scenery with a small smile on your face. There's a bloom in Gaming's heart. He finds his gaze lingering too much onto you to notice that you've taken your own cardigan off, resting it on your lap. The Adam's apple in his throat bobs a little. He needs to confess, and it's going to happen soon— if not right now.

Your gaze falls onto him, and he nearly jumps in his seat. It's strangely quiet and rather cold. In a desperate attempt to fill the void of silence, he stutters and exaggerates a cold expression,

“It's... It's really cold now, huh? That's weird. It's awfully cold for spring!”

“In that case, here. Take my cardigan, it'll keep you warm.” You smile at him knowingly, wrapping the cardigan around the blushing, confused Gaming.

Wait, what? He was supposed to do that!

You smile at him and turn back over to the scenery around. You have your hand resting near him, and he can't help but stare at the reflection of the light lingering on your hand. It's attractive, everything about you he finds so attractive, every insecurity and every part you're proud of he takes and smiles proudly with. Gaming is deep in love with you, and it's clear as glass right now as he takes your hand in his and gently taps his thumb against your knuckle.

“Hey. So, can I... I have something to say.”

You send your undivided attention to him as he speaks. His heart pounds against his chest, and he subconsciously squeezes your hand.

“I've been thinking. We've been really close 'n cool friends for a while, don't you think?”

Darn it, Gaming, get to the point! He yells at himself, and the burn of an embarrassed blush glitters across his face.

“Listen, Gaming.” You interlock your fingers with his again, and you give him a soft, sweet smile.

“I like you, too, okay?”

And with the peck of a kiss on his cheek, a small, sudden, yet very giddy smile grew on his face. He asked for re-confirmation, and when you gave it to him, he nearly fainted on the spot with joy.

You and Gaming held hands, and a shared smile bloomed between the two of you. You leaned in for a kiss, and Gaming allowed you— but before a kiss could happen, Xingqiu interrupted with the snap of his Kamera.

You and Gaming turn around. Xinqiu smiles, taking the photo out of the kamera and hiding it behind his back, whistling as if nothing had happened.

You and Gaming realized then and there that you would thus receive the teasing of a lifetime.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ “1 new message...”

➥ “...Read it?”

— ➢ WANDERER：

STAGE 1 - how he fell in love with you.

➥ Wanderer was and is a special— very special case. He's a puppet beneath the porcelain skin; there's almost nothing under it. He's hollow, meaning he has no heart. So what would explain this strange feeling within? Nahida suggested a fondness for you through the form of love, but Wanderer thought it was impossible. He's a puppet, and not only does he lack the heart to love, but he has never loved before and certainly wouldn't now.

Of course, that simply wasn't the case.

Wanderer always felt some sort of ache when it came to you. Nahida's suggestion of fondness found itself dug into his mind rent-free, even if he fully disagreed with it. He felt like you were simply more annoying than anyone else he's ever met. Yet, there was this one time that he considered the possibility that maybe... Maybe it is love, after all.

It was his birthday, and you hung around with Nahida to surprise him. The surprise wasn't anything big, but it was nice enough to have left a stain ingrained in his memory of it. You and Nahida had baked a cake made especially for him, and the party was held at a vantage point. Funnily enough, that same day was the day where he wanted to show you this exact vantage point, but you had already discovered it first. You joked that it was simply meant to be, and a faint blush dusted Wanderer's cheeks— though, he'd never admit it to be of embarrassment or love. The birthday party, as mentioned before, wasn't that big. It was you and Nahida, but there was a particular point that had Wanderer questioning if he needed a heart at all for his "possible-and-horrible-wave-of-fondness." In his eyes, it was one thing to see his semi-savior, Nahida, all giddy and happy to be able to finally celebrate the birthday of another, but it was a whole other treat to see your smile. He found himself lingering on you for too long; he felt an ache within that longed for something— even when he tried to dismiss it, that was the beginning of his spiral of love. That longing never went away. Later that day, after you had left, Nahida would tell him how easy it was to spot, but he ignored her and went off for the night. He took himself to the highest spot of Sumeru, and he sat quietly on the branch.

You were back on his mind. Your smile, your eccentric self, while eating the cake. Everything was wonderful. You were wonderful.

You are wonderful.

A smile creept in from his teeth, accompanied by a sigh.

Wait.

You're... wonderful.

Images of your smile flashed within his mind, and that same ache and longing pinged and rang within his chest, where a human's heart could have been.

A memory of Nahida's words play in his head.

“Perhaps it is indeed a sign of your fondness for them! Humans feel it for one another, and oftentimes, they refer to the feeling as love.”

Does he love you?

The ache pounds against his chest.

Oh, for archon's sake.

Wanderer's face turned red at a thought:

He really might be in love with you.

STAGE 2 - how he's pining for you.

➥ The days and weeks after his birthday, he sought you out more than he could've ever thought he would. Sometimes, he'd run into you buying groceries at the stalls of Sumeru. Other times, you'd be sitting in a small field of flowers, and he'd be flying by. You didn't seem to mind his presence, though. Actually, evident by your smiley faces and happier expressions, you seemed to enjoy it! The thought, without realizing it, made him happier than usuaI. While it wasn't evident with a spring in his step, if you looked closer, there would be a dozen sparkles in his eyes every time he glanced your way. Except, you'd know better than to get too close. Otherwise, Wanderer would've smacked you silly.

He’s become a little softer towards you than he is with anyone else. Even with his specialty of degrading everyone around him, he can’t bring himself to be rude to you in an honest way. Any harsh comment is followed by an ache in his heart whenever he sees you either pissed or bothered, and he finds himself incapable of thinking badly of you. Strangely enough, he thinks of you more than he talks to you nowadays. It bleeds into his day-to-day schedule when he’s in the Akademiya, studying for his classes, or doing his work. Wanderer doesn't really have much to do with his days. He thinks of you during classes now, too. He's unsure if you attend classes or if you've finished school, as he's never bothered to ask, and you've never brought it up. Either way, when the lectures start becoming white noise to him, he wonders if you're also in a classroom right now, bored and thinking of whatever you think of.

If only you might be thinking of him, too.

A tiny smile breaks his bored, motionless lips. The professor goes off about the lesson, and his mind goes on about you. Wanderer couldn't care less if he missed information; he understands the material anyway. He simply wants to think of you right now.

Suddenly, the students around him shoot up from their seats, grabbing their things and head for the door, and he follows in suit with the smile wiped off of his face. As he passes through the room, a few people gawk at him, but he dismisses them. Wanderer would only allow you to gawk at him.

He left the Akademiya immediately, running off to some secluded spot where the other students wouldn’t bother him and have him snap out of his thoughts. As of late, he found himself enjoying his days a little more whenever he had some time to himself, especially when he thought of you during that snippet of time. Yet, this time, he doesn’t have to simply think of you. Walking down the path to the ground-leveled city, Wanderer saw you around the corner. You were talking to someone, but a flurry of heartbeats synced with the swirling thoughts racing through all at once. The feeling gets annoying because he basically runs into you every other day, but he acts as though he hasn’t seen you in years. There’s a sudden skip in his heart that forces him down the pathway a little faster to startle you with his approach. Wanderer always found it amusing whenever you’d jump out of your skin at his sudden appearance–

But this time was different. Wanderer stopped and stood idle.

Just why was the General Mahamatra holding your arm like that? From the angle he stood at, he couldn’t see the wound on your arm, but something shot down every ounce of excitement and confidence he had in himself. He felt cheated on, but you weren’t even dating him! Cyno notices him from the distance and lets go of your arm, almost glaring at the boy. You, following in suit, turn around to see Wanderer. Even with that fabulous feeling wasted away, Wanderer still looked at you like you were the only important person to exist. You’re graceful in the way you turn his way, but your wound catches his eye quickly. Is that why Cyno held you like that? Because he was scolding you or something? Either way, that’s what Wanderer is about to do with you. He storms over to you, enraged, worried, and ready to ravage the whole universe to find who hurt you…

And it turns out it was just some Mitachurl that you abolished soon after you had gotten hurt.

“Kuni, if you’re just so worried about me, why not stick by me more often? Besides, we run into each other basically every day now.”

“You can be my travel buddy, I guess!”

“That’s stupid.” But he’d still want to be yours.

Cyno dismisses Wanderer and gets him off of your arm, and you’re escorted elsewhere (as Wanderer glares from the distance at Cyno). He thinks for a few moments but ultimately decides to return to the Sanctuary of Surasthana to pay Nahida a little visit…

STAGE 3 - him planning the confession.

➥ Nahida, when asked, simply told Wanderer to bring you over to some nice, secluded spot and tell you how he feels. He’s been told that the confession doesn’t have to be anything big, but maybe just some nice scenery would do you both some good. Wanderer slightly hoped that Nahida would tell him not to confess, but he knows her better than that. The plan, when made, was simple: he'll ask when you're free, then he'll take you to some nice spot nearby, sit you down as he takes his seat, and he tells you how he feels.

Now, does that sound appealing to Wanderer?

No, of course not.

Wanderer would prefer it if he just didn’t tell you at all. Feelings are awkward for him because he’s not used to romance. He’s not used to anything positive or good coming his way. Wanderer has walls of brick to seal his heart away to prevent further emotional pain. There’s no way he would tear all of that down just to be with you.

“But it’s already broken!” Nahida says with a cheeky smile, startling Wanderer.

“What?”

“Sorry,” the archon giggles, “I read your mind just now. What I mean to say is that you already trust them enough as is! The walls you’ve built have already been broken?”

“It’s still stupid, anyways. What if they don’t even reciprocate? Then what would I do?”

Nahida scratches her head a little, thinking of all of the experiences that she’s witnessed over the past two years of her freedom.

“Isn’t that what confession also determines? You let them know that they like you, and then you learn if they reciprocate or if they don’t.”

Thus, after a small debate with himself and Nahida, Wanderer decided to… Simply tell you how he feels. Shouldn’t be that hard, right? Though, when he finds himself unable to bring up a potential day to choose, Nahida asks you when you’re free, and thus the plan is initiated.

All that’s left to do is wait, prepare, and execute.

STAGE 4 - the confession.

➥ The morning of the plan arose. The break of dawn and the sunrise’s sunlight spilled across Teyvat all at once. The cold corpse of the moon faded with the blue sky, and Wanderer was all but asleep. In fact, he was frantic– panicking, not even a drop of sleep soaked into him. He’s, despite refusing to admit it, terrified of meeting you at that vantage point and possibly getting humiliated after letting his feelings pour.

Wanderer walks out of the dorm provided by the Akademiya and takes a stroll. It’s still early, and not too many people are outside yet. The air isn’t cold, it’s less humid than usual, but it’s still cooler than usual– the slightly-frosted breeze brushing against his porcelain arms. He can’t feel the cold, but he still shivers with the pressure of what might happen.

“Kuni?” Your semi-groggy voice calls out to him. He turns around, and he feels his chest nearly explode.

“You? Why are you up so early?”

“I dunno, Nahida told me to meet up with you later today, so I wanted to go out to get you something.”

Get him something? His could’ve-been-heart pounds in his chest.

“Why did you want to meet with me anyway?” You walk over to him, meeting his pace.

“I’ll tell you later. No snooping around yet.”

“Why?” A sly, teasing smile grows on your face. “Are you going to romantically confess your undying love to me under the blissful moonlight at your favorite romance novel scenery with a slow breeze hitting us? Oh, will there be flowers for me, too?” You smirk, and Wanderer looks at you with a fake look of disgust on his face. However, at that last question, he breaks his face… Slightly.

“That’s a good idea.” He quietly blurts, thinking of possible flowers to give you.

“...What?”

“Huh? What?”

“You’re planning to–” You stammer, a red blush dusting your features.

“Wha–?"

And then Wanderer realizes what he just did.

998 notes · View notes

mphountitled · 6 months

Note

more dom!hazel would be so appreciated if u can hehe 🫶🫶

+ another anon who asked for a cleaning bruises fic

𝐁𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐬 & 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬 | 𝐇𝐚𝐳𝐞𝐥 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐧

Hazel Callahan x fem!reader

Summary: "If I put my hands up your skirt right now, am I gonna find you wet?"

Warnings: Established Relationship, Hyper feminine!Reader, PJ as her own warning, Mentions of Bruises, Mentions of Violence, Cleaning Hazel's bruises, Domestic Fluff, Humor, Jealousy, Possessiveness, Smut (+18 Minors DNI), Dirty Talk, Mutual Pining, Fighting Kink?, Fingering, Dom!Hazel, Sub!Reader, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, Overstimulation

Can be seen as a continuation of this fic but not strictly

Your afternoon had been almost perfect, with Hazel nestled between your open legs just a step lower on the school bleachers. Her head had been thrown back, with her curls running rampant against your skin and tickling your chest. You smoothed her hair down in vain intervals while she played with a loose string on the stitiching of your plaid skirt as she droned on and on about the unlikelihood of being enlisted as a bomb tech by the US Army.

"I don't really know where else I could use my particular set of expertise. What else could I do that won't ultimately lead me down the path of... you know, treason and terrorism?" You nod vaguely as Hazel continues her equal parts aloof and equal parts worrying rants. All while combining your fingers through her hair, "I mean, I just feel like World War III is probably upon us, you know-"

"Ugh, could you guys get a room?" You had been so enamored by Hazel's ranting that you failed to notice PJ at first. Her and Josie made their slow ascent on the bleachers until their shadows blocked your afternoon sun.

"Could you get a girlfriend?" The words had snipped off your tongue with harsh vexation as you instinctively cradled Hazel closer to your chest.

"Jesus-" Hazel had muttered, as she craned her neck up to stare at PJ and a disgruntled Josie, "Why are you trying to hijack my boob time?"

You had to reign in all murderous intentions as PJ grabbed hold of Hazel's forearms and forcibly dragged her up off the bleachers… out of your arms.

"You don't get boob time until we all get boob time. And need I remind you that you're going to be late for Fight Club," You heaved a very loud, very obnoxious sigh as you tilted your head backwards, letting the rays bounce off your pink sunglasses, "You guys should seriously get a room." Said PJ, "Stop giving the entire football team a show. Come on, you're setting us back like 69 years-"

Before PJ sunk her claws into Hazel completely, she bent down until her lips pressed against your cheek, and she whispered, "I'll see you back at my place, yeah?"

Your heart deflated at her confirmation that she was indeed leaving you for Fight Club, "Hazel..."

"Shh, shut up. Just say yes,"

But before you could wrack your brain for something coherent to say, PJ had already begun to make her descent off the bleachers, taking your girlfriend along with her.

You did not hate PJ, nor were you her biggest fan at the best of times. However, nights like tonight made your vexation grow to unimaginable heights simply because PJ is completely and utterly inescapable.

This evening, however, waiting for Hazel to get back from Figh Club, had been perfect. Etta James had been oozing through The Callahan's home speakers as you prepared the butternut soup- Hazel's favourite Post Fight Club recovery meal (although she hated admitting it, because she did not want to put you out of your way).

You are perfectly content, trapped in your web of make-believe as you prance around Hazel's kitchen, assembling your respective bowls needed for the soup. Mrs Callahan had let you in, as she always did after school, with a dismissive wave while she babbled into the receiver of her iPhone. Before she completely disappeared into the innards of her sprawling house, Mrs Callahan vaguely threw over her shoulder "Hazel is at her thing until 5 but I'm sure you've been made aware," and you were left in this great big labyrinth to entertain yourself.

Sex had been even more seldom, given that Hazel was rarely ever in any shape to commence any form of coitus due to the various bruises popping up in unlikely places. You wish you can safely tell yourself you despised seeing her bloody and battered state - that you gain absolutely nothing from Fight Club and that you most likely never will.

But you're staring dreamily into the pot of soup, and you're stirring and stirring, with your heart racing in anticipation of Hazel's inevitable return with her inevitable bruises smeared across her perfect little face.

You had not planned on cooking for anyone because seducing Hazel in her inevitably bloodied state was on the forefront of your mind, and Mrs Callahan had a very tempting bright pink apron hanging on the hook.

So perhaps you did do this all for her.

Perhaps you were waiting for her, to stride on through the foyer, nursing a streak of dried blood down her nose, eager to catch her reaction at seeing you so comfortable in her space while you rushed to swoop in and fawn over her.

This near perfect daydream might have actually manifested…

Were it not for PJ's loud and obnoxious voice bleeding into the kitchen from the foyer, accompanied by the heavy groan of the front door slamming shut. Your shoulders visibly sag as you empty the rest of the soup into your bowl just as the trio rounds the corner into the kitchen.

"Oh my God - soup!" PJ exclaimed rushing towards you with her gaze zeroed in on the bowl locked firmly in your hand. You had been so focused on keeping the bowl from PJ's incessant grabby hands that you failed to see the dazed, almost breathless look that sprinkled over Hazel's face who drifted slowly behind Josie despite this being her house.

Suddenly, every thought about the impending bruise she was facing due to not dodging a right hook earlier vanished from her mind like doves in the wind. Hazel's head was completely flooded with the image of you, in her kitchen, with your cute as fuck little skirt grazing just above your knee.

This almost did not feel real. Less than a month ago, no one barely blinked in her direction, but now...

So enamored was Hazel by your act of service, she nearly failed to catch PJ's innate need to flirt whenever you were in the vicinity.

"You look hot by the way," PJ had slyly said, still reaching for the bowl of steaming soup, which you only drew higher above your head.

"Sorry PJ, only people who make me cum get to eat my cooking."

"Is that an invitation?" She asked, leaning against the counter, "That sounded like an invitation."

Hazel cleared her throat, finally succeeding in having your eyes wash over her. "Can we probably not talk about you fucking my girlfriend, maybe, I think?" She said cooly, discarding her bag somewhere on the floor before making her up closer towards you. Her slouch was even more prominent and you swear the air in your lungs thinned as she brushed up beside you and muttered, "Hey,"

"Hey yourself." And Hazel's tummy instantly warmed as you discarded the bowl on the counter, turning to cup her cheeks in your hands as you observed her latest shiners acquired from Fight Club. Something sinister flashed through Hazel's mind as your big dark eyes scanned over her visage, eyeing the new bruise splotched across her eye and the horizontal laceration on her cheek.

"It doesn't hurt," She can barely find her words under the overwhelming feeling of your care and attention. Your scent is all encompassing, and before she ever allows for anymore of her arousal to stain her boxers Hazel attempts to draw her face out of your palm.

"Jesus, Hazel!" You squeal, pulling her head down closer to your height, until Hazel has to support herself with a hand on the counter behind you, "Please don't tell me you were sparring with anyone on the football team again!"

You hoped you succeeded in masking how turned on that thought actually got you...

Hazel's voice is deep and low as she replies,

"Jeff said that if I can at least dodge his left, left, right hook next time, I could probably be ready for the whole team." You breathe out and airy laugh almost the same time as her, the both of you silently aware of what the other was doing.

"Ugh, you're such a virgin." PJ mutters under a mouthful of soup.

"I literally have a girlfriend," Hazel mutters without looking away. Her gaze was nearly trapped in yours as she allowed you to pull her limp body away from PJ and Josie. "Come on, I need to clean you up."

And that's how you had found yourself, cross-legged on Hazel's bed with her leaning against the headboard like your Oh so compliant little patient. Her gaze is yet to waver from yours, in fact, cleaning the laceration had been utter hell, right up until this point because Hazel had taken to drawing various circles against the skin of your exposed thigh.

The skirt had ridden up marginally from your seating position, and Hazel seems perfectly fine toying with your various emotions.

"You look really pretty," Hazel breathed out as if those words were sitting heavily on her heart ever since you applied the wet gauze against her left cheek. You try to hold your composure, keeping a firm eye on the dressing of Hazel's wound as you say, "I don't really think I want you going to fight club anymore,"

"Tch'yeah okay," she snickers dismissively, "Hey, is this skirt new? It's hot- like 'gay 50s housewife' kinda hot," There's an edge to her voice that has Hazel sitting taller against the headboard before incriminatingly letting her hands drift just a little higher on your thigh. Your breathing becomes heavier as you fight hard to maintain your crumbling composure.

"I'm serious, Hazel," you had begun to whisper. Why had you begun to whisper?

"I don't wanna have to stitch you up every time-"

As soon as the gauze was plastered onto her cheek, Hazel's head was already melting into your chest, nuzzling at your open cleavage exposed by your Pastel v-neck as she says, "God, I love it when you mommy me,"

"H-Hazel," any warning you tried to inject into your tone gets fizzled out by the embarrassing moan that escaped your lips as Hazel's teeth dragged lightly against the skin of your chest. Her hands were restless, as if she was testing herself as to how far she'd allow herself to go so quickly.

You suck in so much air as Hazel's palm cradles the inside of your thigh and because you're cross legged, closing your legs is nearly impossible. "Fuck, I'm so turned on, right now," her voice cracks as she brings her face up from your boobs. Pressing a hand to your cheek, she tries and fails to bring your lips towards hers.

Hazel frowns as you say,

"You think it makes me feel good seeing you like this?"

You ignore the budding voice in your head echoing the loud and very obnoxious 'yes, yes you do like seeing her like this. You like seeing that reckless smile blossom onto her cracked and battered face. It gets you wet and you know it does-'

But your voice is full of fragile conviction as you say, "You think I like seeing my girlfriend beaten up everyday of the week?"

Hazel blinks once before she succinctly replies, "If I put my hands up your skirt right now, am I gonna find you wet?" An entire desert ecosystem is suddenly born inside your mouth, and you swallow thickly as your eyes evade Hazel's uncomplicated, piercing gaze. She tilts her head, smiles gone, simply waiting for your response.

"Do you want me to tell you what I think?" She asks before steadily closing the distance between you once more. Only, you're so terrified of being caught out, so utterly embarrassed at the thought of her finding out about the pool of wetness that had begun soaking completely through your panties, that you back away the closer she gets. Your slinking backwards only allows Hazel to crawl closer until she's hovering above you in the centre of her bed.

You have her undivided attention, and she has yours. Your eyes recklessly scans her face, every cut, laceration, and every old bruise buried under a new one has your lips turning downward as a small, almost imperceptible whimper forces itself out of your throat.

"There she is…" Hazel whispers with a palm cradling your cheek, "There's my needy little girl," You're quickly slipping into subspace right in front of her and Hazel is more than grateful. A single silver pendant dangles from her throat as she dips down, finally connecting your lips in a quietly passionate kiss. Your eyes immediately flutter shut, and so does hers. The both of you are utterly enamored by the sheer lust communicated by the intensity of the kiss alone.

"Fuck," Hazel curses, momentarily breaking apart to peel off her oversized graphic tee. You're watching your girlfriend in her sports bra with unbridled lust shining heavily on your pouty lips.

"Tell me you're wet for me," She says, "Please, Baby."

You're slipping deeper and deeper but you still have half a mind to lightly whisper, "Hazel, they're right downstairs-" She's already crashing her lips back down onto yours.

"Tell me you're wet for me," She murmurs against your lips, never being able to stray too far.

The hand that isn't holding her up, hovering above you, is once again, underneath your skirts, only this time, the tips of her fingers are dragging up against your inner thigh with no chance of stopping.

"Fuck, Hazel,"

"Is that supposed to be an answer?"

You're already pulling your own hips off the bed, seeking her hand out like a whore as you break the kiss only to whimper, "Yes, okay, fine! I'm so wet for you, Hazel- just, please!"

She watches completely fargone as you let your soaked panties meet her awaiting palm. Watching you grind yourself against her hand has Hazel's mind absolutely descending into lust.

"God, you're so beautiful," she says, before finally pressing her own hand against your soaked panties. She rubs in harsh, rough circles, eager to bring you to the very edge of insanity. She needed to see you fall apart for her again and again-

"Inside," You whisper, watching your girlfriend rub your cunt with bated breath. You're still wearing your skirt but you figure Hazel needs to fuck you in it to fulfil some sort of fantasy and you don't entirely mind. Not at all.

"Hazel, Please. I need you inside-"

"Fuck- you're such a slut-"

Your head immediately falls back against the bed as Hazel's movements against your soaked panties increases.

"You like it when I call you a slut, baby?" Your hips stutter upwards in vague response as you moan loudly into the air.

"Fuck- Hazel, I'm close- I'm so fucking- fuck," the orgasm sneaks up on you like a villain in the night and you're spamming underneath her, while Hazel continues to rub your cunt through the torrid sensation. Before you've ever even come down from your high, there's a knock on the door, and look towards it with slightly parted lips and blurry vision.

"Hey- you have no more soup, and I think you two are fucking in there so Josie and I are just gonna g-"

"Fuck off, PJ!" Hazel screams at the door, failing to hear the small little 'Okay, rude' before she's lifting your skirt until they're pooling at your hips.

"Hazel, what're you-"

"Another one, okay?" She nods encouragingly before shifting your panties aside and pressing the colds tips of her forefinger and middle finger against your soaked cunt. "You're going to give me another one. I wanna see if I can do it."

You can't even roll your eyes at her unnecessary display of pride because your eyes are rolling to the back of your head as she drags the essence of your arousal along your clit. "Fuck, you look so hot-"

"H-Hazel," the aftershocks from your previous orgasm rack through your upper body just as the oncoming tempest of lust gears you up for the next one. Hazel leans over you once more as she continues to rub at your clit, "Just one more, baby, I know you can do it. Show me, baby." It's downright evil, the effect her manipulation has on your body as you descend further and further into your lust.

"Look at how perfect you look," she says with a voice thick with lechery, "Fuck, you get me so wet to, baby," she murmurs before instinctive pressing her lips to yours once again, as if something nestled in her being, craved the touch of your lips against hers.

"You're gonna be a good girl for me?"

"Fuck- Hazel-"

"I'm right here, angel," she whispers, before bringing the tips of her fingers to your opening. Hazel is quick to slide her index and middle finger into your pussy until she's fucking you hard and deep. It takes a few short pumps for you to clutch mindlessly at her forearms with your vision slightly waning as you look up at your smiling girlfriend who watches you descend into your orgasm.

"That's it," she coos as you clench around her fingers, "You're doing so well for me, baby,"

"F-Fuck!" You stutter out as you fall into the depths of euphoria. Your mind is flooded with nothing but Hazel, all thoughts previously plaguing your brain is made null and void. In the end, you're just a beacon for her to release her frustrations out on. Even if it means overstimulating you until you become a noisy, helpless mess.

For a while, each other's heavy breathing is all you hear.

That is, until you hear a loud bump against Hazel's closed door, drawing both your attention.

"PJ-" whispers Josie with unimaginable frustration.

"Oh my God, they're definitely fucking-"

#hazel callahan #hazel callahan smut #hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan fluff #hazel callahan x you #bottoms x reader #bottoms fanfic #bottoms movie

2K notes · View notes

daegall · 7 months

Text

☆ drunk confessions.

➷ in which a drunk person's words is a sober person's thoughts.

pairing: (opla!)zoro x (implied fem!) reader

genre: fluff, slight angst, slight crack, mutual pining, friends to lovers!AU (ish..?)

warnings: lots and lots of alcohol, none after that but if you find one i can add lmk!! (+ lots and love of love for smiley zoro!!!!)

word count: 3.4k words (SHEESH)

a/n: requested by @acupnoodle !! tysm bae for the request, i hope you like it!!!! my inbox is now open for requests for opla (mostly zoro tbh LOL) if anyone would like to request ^^ (make sure its sfw as i am a minor!!!)

This is sick. This is just so sick.

Okay, maybe Zoro could be exaggerating. But what else is supposed to think, when you, the you who he has feelings for, is in the kitchen with Sanji, the annoying cook who he bickers with at least 5 times a day?

And especially since the day Sanji got him to blurt out about his feelings for you while he was drunk?

Zoro never thought he'd say it, but maybe he should lay low with the booze.

The swordsman can only grumble and huff as Luffy goes on and on about something—he hears something about Shanks. But all Zoro can do, is replay the memory of you sitting on the counter, right next to Sanji, who was peeling a few apples, and with a small frown on your face at that.

First, he thought maybe the cook had hurt you in any way. Then he realized it couldn't be, you'd be marching away from him. Then he assumed it could be you, with some personal trouble. But then you would always, without a fail, go to Zoro for help in that case.

Then, Zoro came to his final conclusion.

He had hurt you in some way.

But how could he? He'd never even consider the thought—he'd kill anyone who'd hurt you, because he cares—

No.

There's no way.

Sanji didn't tell you about his feelings... right?

Indeed he didn't. But Zoro doesn't know that.

What he also doesn't know, is the fact that you went to Sanji to talk about your best friend himself.

"He's been avoiding me," You mumble out weakly, picking at a few crumbs left on the counter. Gross, but hey, it's a pirate ship. There could be much worse things than a few specks of food. "I don't remember if I did anything wrong,"

Sanji knows you didn't. In fact, it was all his fault that Zoro was avoiding you. At the moment, having the usually stoic, cold swordsman admit his feelings for you with a dopey smile, the most loving tone as he describes every little thing about you, it seemed like the best thing on Earth. The man who everyone thought would never break, broke, all because of you.

But now, Sanji thinks it's stupid. He thinks it's stupid that Zoro's avoiding you because one person knew about his feelings. How cowardly could he be? But then again, he has absolutely no experience in relationships.

Sanji offers you an apple slice, his voice comforting and soft. "I don't think it's you," He smiles when you take the apple, taking a bite. "you could never wrong him."

"Then what is it?" Your voice is laced with such helplessness, a tone of worry and guilt buried underneath. It breaks Sanji's heart to see you like this. You play with the bracelet on your wrist, something Zoro had bought you when you were at a small town. You hadn't taken it off since, and it's been 3 months.

3 months marks your feelings for him as well.

"Why don't you ask him?"

At this question, your head whips to Sanji's direction, shaking instantly. "No! Hell no, it'd make him hate me even more!"

"Y/N..." Sanji's hands are suddenly on your shoulders, his eyes glistening with genuine care. It shocks you how serious he is about the whole situation. "he doesn't hate you. You might be the only one he genuinely feels safe with, you hear me?"

It's silent for a moment, as you bask in his words, the words in which hit you unexpectedly deeply. Yes, there have been times you've patched him up after a particularly harsh fight, yes, you both have shed tears together, and yes, he lets you touch his swords and lets you use—holy shit, Roronoa Zoro does care about you!

You decide to ask him, just as Sanji had suggested you do.

Zoro, on the other hand, has a different plan.

Despite the wallowing pit in his stomach, occupied by the green monster labeled as jealousy, Zoro knows you wouldn't go for Sanji. He's like an older brother to you.

But alas, he cannot control his emotions. And so, he's come up with possibly the worst plan ever.

Roronoa Zoro is going to flirt with you. The same way Sanji flirts with Nami.

It's stupid, he knows it's stupid, but Zoro is desperate. He's never felt this way towards anyone, ever, and his pride is way too big for him to ask advice from anyone on the crew.

"Zoro!"

Said man's heartrate doubles the moment he realizes it's your voice, your sweet, sweet voice calling out to him. Oh, how special he feels now, to have you by his side, to have you care for him and make him smile, how has he not realized how blessed he was just in your presence?

Okay, maybe Zoro was exaggerating.

He glances over his shoulder, attempting to act cool with a neutral face, as he murmurs. "What is it?"

As cold as ever, his gaze pierces yours. But... there's something different in it. It's colder.

Of course, this wasn't Zoro's intentions, clearly just trying to act cool and not confess his feelings for you right then and there, but the ice in his tone, his gaze, his aura, has your heart sinking.

Maybe he really did hate you now.

"Do you mind if we could talk?"

God, just the thought of having a chat with you has Zoro's heart soaring, his whole mind and being flooding with tenderness knowing that you'd always talk to him.

"What's up?" He sighs, fully turning around to you. His body language is the usual, calm and collected, the usual hand on his swords. Zoro is thankful you can't get a look inside, you'd be seeing a whole zoo and his running thoughts about how pretty you look today.

You step closer to Zoro.

"Did... did I do something wrong?"

This time, Zoro's heart twists in confusion.

Wrong? You? How could you ever think that?

"Because if I have, don't hesitate to tell me—"

"—your face."

What?

Holy shit, Zoro thinks you're ugly?

"...Is this your way of telling someone they're ugly?"

To be frank, you're kind of glad it's not about anything that you did, that would break you.

However, him directly telling you you're ugly? You never really cared if anyone called you ugly, but Roronoa Zoro? The only man you'd every trust? Your own crush?

Your heart twists in pain.

"No! No, that's not what I meant,"

Zoro's heartstrings tug at the sight of your pained face, the frown curling on your lips, he should never open his mouth ever again.

"I-I just meant that... you..."

He feels his cheeks warm up. Is he blushing?!

"you look really pretty today,"

Those were the very last words you would have expected coming out of Zoro's mouth.

A silence envelops the air. It's... awkward, to say the least, but a little endearing, with the both of you shyly looking away.

Zoro thinks you're pretty.

Absolutely stunning with your pursed lips trying to contain a smile, the glint in your eyes known as relief, and a little hint of mischief.

"Thanks," You mumble quietly, shrugging, though you're a far cry from casual.

Zoro mirrors you, leaning his hip onto the ship railing. "Don't mention it."

And you don't. Not for the next few hours, at least.

To say Zoro's plan of flirting with you failed, was quite the understatement. Sure, he finally got to say what he's been holding in for months, but he was expecting Sanji level flattery, the teasing smiles and confidence, not whatever the two of you went through.

Zoro feels like an idiot.

You, on the other hand, quite enjoyed it. it was genuine, and unlike Sanji's flirting, it's left you thinking about the moment for hours after it's passed. It seemed so genuine, carefully thought out (though it wasn't) and soft, something you didn't know Zoro could be.

You like Zoro's flirting much more than Sanji's. Though, that may be due to the fact that you have feelings for the swordsman.

The sun sets, leaving the pirate ship quiet (for once) and calm, just like the ocean, with it's soft waves and tranquil energy.

What isn't tranquil tonight, is you.

Instead of going to sleep, you've decided to have a drink. Yes, you may have stolen from Zoro's hidden stash in which he only showed you. Yes, you may have had more than one drink.

3, to be precise.

Why? Well, how are you supposed to go on the night? Simply thinking over and over about Zoro's words? His words that have left a permanent place in your heart? Your mind and soul?

How are you supposed to spend the night thinking about a man who you were sure hated you, who called you pretty and set your heart on fire, without a drink?

Besides, what's the worst that could happen?

Maybe the fact that Zoro wants a drink tonight as well.

Okay, yeah, he did say he was gonna lay low with the booze. But bad habits die hard. He's bound to drink a little here and there.

The moment he gets to the kitchen, Zoro is shocked at the sight of you, sitting on the counter, with a bottle of his beer in your hands. Your eyes are droopy, almost sleepy, a stupid lopsided smile spreading on your lips. The bottle has Zoro's name on it, written on the tape and pasted lousily over the brand name, and seeing you eye the writing and mumble his name has Zoro's heart pounding, filling with such unexpected fondness for you, ready to burst as such a volcano would.

"That's my booze,"

Your eyes blink tiredly, with no energy, as they trail to Zoro, and when you spot him, he can't believe the way your frown completely transforms into a bright grin.

"Zoro! Hey! Yeaahh, it has your name on it,"

He's shocked when you extend your hand with the bottle in it, shaking it side to side lightly. "Wanna sip?"

Your 'p' pops, and Zoro can't help but find it utterly endearing.

"Don't mind if I do," He murmurs with a small smile, wrapping his fingers around the bottle. He doesn't miss the way you maneuver your fingers to brush with his, catching your smile once they've made contact. His fingers are warm, and slightly rough.

Life of a swordsman, you suppose.

When he takes a sip of the bottle, you scooch over on the counter, tapping the space beside you. "Come join me!" Under the low light of the moon shining through the window, you look unexpectedly elegant, despite your tipsiness, the rays settling on your cheek just right.

Zoro complies, but simply leans against the counter. He takes another swig. "Any reason as to why you're here alone? Drinking my booze?"

"Been thinking," you say simply, reaching over to fiddle with a bandage on Zoro's forearm. The action is an abrupt source of serotonin to him.

His voice is laced with care and curiosity, as he asks you, "Thinking about what?"

"You,"

Oh how you never fail to get him shy. His eyes grow wide, but with the little alcohol in his system, he supposes it could work as liquid luck for tonight.

"Yeah? What about me?"

You chuckle, drunkenly, your eyes flitting from the bandage on his arm to his own eyes, no hints of hesitation or doubt. "How pretty you are,"

"You think I'm pretty?"

"Mhm," You nod. A hand is placed on your cheek, as you lean on it and continue to gaze at Zoro, almost dreamily. "your smile is pretty,"

At the mention of his smile, it appears almost instantly, and causes you to swoon even more, if it were possible. "You like my smile?"

You sigh, your own grin joining his. "Always,"

You decide to elaborate even more, deciding your sober self will have to deal with the embarrassment of rejection later.

"And you've got these freckles on your cheeks and nose, from all the hours in the sun, I always tell you to use sunscreen,"

It's true, you do.

Zoro only chuckles lightly, growing fonder and fonder of you every time you speak.

"and I love how ambitious you are to become the worlds greatest swordsman. You're always the best. To me, at least."

God, Zoro might kiss you right then and there.

"And you're so caring for everyone on the crew, don't deny it, I always see the way you do! Helping Usopp clean the ship and tie knots, listening to Luffy's nonsense rambling and storing all the maps for Nami, even for Sanji! Always buying the right ingredients for him," You breathe out a soft laugh. "and you care about me too. I think. I mean, you're always there when I have a problem personally or not, sometimes I think maybe... we could have some connection, you know? And other days... it seems like you despise me."

What?

How could you ever think he could despise you? Sure, there are some instances where you disagree with each other, but he does not hate you. He could never even think about it.

Before Zoro could comment on it, you carry on, voice growing louder and louder.

"Did I mention I love your smile?"

Zoro can't help but chuckle, reaching over to brush a few strands of your hair from your eyes. Wow, that took him more confidence than he thought.

"Yes, you have, Y/N."

"Oh... then let me mention it more," A sheepish smile grazes your lips, as you lean in close to observe his smile once you realize he is.

"And your lips. They're pretty too,"

Your eyes squint as you lean in closer, so close that your noses brush against one another. Zoro doesn't find the will in him to lean in, neither to pull back either. He simply sits there, his heart growing softer and softer when you purse your lips and tilt your head, shaking it.

"they look lonely," you state. "wanna meet mine?"

Oh, you're cute.

With the confident, almost cocky smile on your lips, eyes growing wider and wider as Zoro starts laughing.

Through your drunken eyes, seeing him smile is one thing. One thing enough to set you rambling and rambling about how much you enjoy it. Hearing him laugh? You could talk about it for hours, but you'd have too many things to say at once, you'd be left speechless. And that's exactly what happens at the moment, as you're left gaping at the sweet melody of his laughs, simply keeping your loving gaze on him.

"I'm not kidding, Zoro." You mumble. "I love you, I do."

For months, Roronoa Zoro has been so unsure about himself around you. Is he enough? Will he ever be enough? But now, hearing you state that you love him, he's sure. He loves you too, more than he could ever comprehend, and he won't doubt himself anymore.

He leans in, bumping your foreheads together clumsily. Though it hurts for a moment, it's fond, caring, as he smiles softly at your drunk state.

You could just be drunk right now.

None of this could be true.

Zoro doesn't care. If it's true or not, there has to be a reason you're telling him this. He'll ask you when you're sober.

Speaking of, "I won't kiss you," He says.

Your heart plummets to the ground, you can feel it deep in your chest, crashing through the base of the ship and sinking to the bottom of the sea, buried under such hurt hearing his words.

It lifts a moment later, however, as he places his lips on your cheek lovingly, a kiss to your forehead following.

"not when you're drunk. Don't wanna take advantage of you,"

"But you're not—"

"—I know, but it won't feel the same,"

Really, all Zoro wants to do, is place just one kiss on your lips, your lips that pout as you look up at him, hold you so closely to him, finally accept his feelings and make a move.

But, he'll wait for the morning. He'd wait forever just for you.

And as he leaves, warning you to stop drinking his booze, you're left... with a half heart. Half full with love, knowing Zoro could very much feel the same way for you, half empty, sad to have made so much effort (getting drunk should not be the way to confess to your crush) just for him to leave you hanging.

That's on you, you suppose.

He makes a very good point about the whole 'taking advantage' thing.

You guess you'll be too much of a coward when you wake up sober, too scared to fully confess, too scared to even look at him.

Zoro could not disagree more. He swears, the moment the sun has risen and you're awake, he's going to make you his. All his to hold, all his to take care of and protect, all his to love.

And as the day starts, both your minds are instantly flooded with thoughts of the other. The moment you see him, yawning as he listens to Luffy's rambling, your heart starts racing.

You don't remember that much from last night.

All you remember is the feeling of Zoro's warm lips on your skin, his caring gaze, and the ridiculous amount of alcohol you had drank. Sure, it was a far cry from how much Zoro would usually drink, but it's still a big amount to you.

Zoro has last night's events imprinted in his mind, every lingering glance he sends your way, every shy smile the two of you share, the way you scurry away quickly with an embarrassed scrunch of your nose, it takes him back to the night.

And finally, some alone time.

You find Zoro in the kitchen, checking on his booze stash, the one you had invaded the night before.

"Sorry about that, by the way," You call out, announcing your presence.

Zoro's heart soars just at the sound of your voice, small, almost guilty, and when he turns around, seeing you sit on the counter, just as you had last night, he can't stop the smile from tugging his lips upward. "It's no problem," He shrugs. "you'd never bother me,"

Roronoa Zoro, the lone wolf, the harsh swordsman saying that to you says a lot.

He approaches your figure slowly, growing more and more confident once he's realized that's exactly what you want. It's exactly what he wants too.

Finally, he's stopped right in front of you, your knees brushing slightly against his shirt. You look down at your hands placed on your laps, too shy to say anything, nor even look up at him.

"Hey," A sudden touch at your chin shocks you, and you eventually melt against his hold as he tilts your head up to meet his eyes. Like a magnet, you grow closer collectively, up until Zoro has both his hands sitting by your hips, your noses once again brushing.

This scene seems familiar.

You conclude it's what had been done last night, when he had kissed along the skin of your cheeks.

"I'm not drunk anymore," You whisper out.

Zoro chuckles, causing your entire being to wave with warmth of safety and comfort. "Yeah, I can see that."

"So you gonna give me that kiss or—"

Zoro's lips feel much warmer than you expected. They feel complete, pressed against your softly, almost hesitantly. The moment your fingers graze against his jaw, he relaxes, leaning in deeper to not only kiss your lips, but your entire soul, with love and solace, finally coming to terms with his feelings.

God, does Roronoa Zoro love you so much. He loves the way your hands creep up to mess up his (already disheveled) hair, the sigh you let out against his lips, the way you chase his lips once he's pulled away.

"What exactly did I say last night?" You mumble against his lips once he's pulled away, grabbing at his hand to play lightly with his fingers.

"Well, you mentioned how much you loved my smile," Zoro chuckles. There he goes once again, with his pretty smile and laugh, leaving you speechless and starstruck. "like, a lot."

"Did I mention that I love you?"

Zoro feels a warmth bubble from his stomach, feeling it envelop his chest, his arms and fingers when you finally intertwine your hands in a lock, his cheeks as they redden, and his lips as he finally gives you one last flash of the smile you claim to adore so much.

It's love.

"Yeah," He leans in to press your foreheads together. "I think I love you more,"

#roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #zoro #one piece #one piece imagines #one piece x reader #roronoa zoro imagines #zoro imagines #one piece live action #opla #roronoa zoro live action #zoro live action

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ode2rin · 3 months

Text

It's painfully evident to anyone with two working eyes that Reo likes you.

Reo excels in almost anything, except hiding his devastatingly pathetic pining towards you. It's etched across his face, woven into his body language, and discernible even in his speech. It's embarrassing to the point that even someone as detached and inattentive as Nagi can discern it from a mile away.

Well, it’s not that hard to tell when Reo looks at you as though you've adorned the night sky with every sparkling star.

Nagi sometimes wonders if Reo even knows it himself. You weren’t any better too, always so oblivious of the lovesick fool fawning at everything you do — yet stealing glances when you’re certain the purple-haired isn’t looking.

Nagi had become an inadvertent witness to countless moments, each one screaming of the unspoken connection between you and Reo. From stolen glances across the classroom, where your eyes would meet, sparking a silent understanding, to the subtle brush of hands as you passed each other notes.

Watching you both tiptoe around your feelings is painful, especially considering that the two of you are the closest things Nagi has to friends.

Maybe some minor intervention wouldn’t be a hassle, Nagi reasoned.

“I like you, Y/N,” and so, he falsely confesses, purposely doing so while Reo stands just a few steps behind you.

Nagi observes your frozen reaction to his declaration, your bag hanging mid-air, frozen before settling on your shoulders. He notices the widened eyes and slightly agape mouth. Above all, he sees the color drain from Reo's face and the slight twitch of his eye in shock. At least he knows his plan is working.

A moment lingers, and you recover from the shock of his confession, still blissfully oblivious to Reo's presence in the room. “Sei... I-I'm sorry. I like someone else.”

I know, he says in his mind. He doesn’t say anything, prompting you to say more.

“I’m sorry, Sei. I like Reo.”

And there it goes.

Realization, relief, and everything in between coloring Reo’s face behind you. Reo has always worn his feelings in his sleeves— too transparent and too obvious.

“I know. I don’t like you,” Nagi admits to you, “I said it because he’s behind you.”

For the second time, you freeze at his words. The urge to turn and confirm or deny his statement tugs at you, but the fear of confronting Nagi's unerring honesty prevails.

Nagi Seishiro never lies unless he admits he does. Lying is too much of an effort, honesty is easier, he reasons.

You weigh your choices. Honestly, you'd rather be the butt of Nagi’s jokes than to face Reo if he’s really behind you. And so, you make your decision. Instead of turning to confront the embodiment of your unrequited feelings, you bolt for the door, leaving the two men to exchange silent glances.

“It's a lie?” Reo's voice breaks the silence.

“Yeah,” Nagi confirms. “Why aren't you going after them—”

Reo interrupts him with a confession, “I wouldn't know what to do if you liked them, too.”

I know, Nagi thinks again, staring at Reo before shrugging and collecting his belongings from the table.

“It will be a pain, I guess.” he shrugs again before finally turning his back to Reo to leave the classroom.

Suppose it's a good thing— it's a good thing Nagi doesn't wear his feelings on his face like you do, Reo.

Because it will really be a pain, indeed.

note. idk what this is but i present to you: pining reo written in nagi's pov or... i guess it could be more than that 🤷🏻‍♀️ (wrote this back in september pls throw the tomatoes gently)

#☁️ my ode to you #mikage reo #reo mikage #mikage reo x reader #reo mikage x reader #mikage reo x y/n #blue lock imagines #blue lock x reader #bllk imagines #bllk x reader #blue lock fluff #nagi seishiro #nagi angst #⬅️ lmao

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snwpcktz · 9 months

Text

A PIN STRAIGHT TO MY HEART

PAIRING: jungwon x fem!reader

GENRE: high school au, classmates to lovers, acquaintances to lovers, fluff

SYNOPSIS: the famous decelis academy confession board is where students pin their written feelings on an anonymous sticky note in hopes of their crush reading it. for y/n, this is the perfect opportunity to finally come to terms with the feelings she has for her classmate--yang jungwon. she has everything planned out, from the color of the sticky note she would be using (blue, it's jungwon's favorite color) to the location she would pin it on the board (smackdown in the middle of the decorative heart the student council put up for valentine's day ages ago). but what happens when y/n sees jungwon pinning his own confession note mere seconds before she planned to?

WARNINGS: mutual pining, little jealousy, swearing, reader is a little oblivious, reader uses she/her pronouns, mentions of other idols (sunoo, niki, wonyoung, minji, rei, intak, minjae)

WC: 5.3k

NOTE: hello everyone! here's my first fic, sorry that it took so long! i hope that the wait from the teaser wasn't bad! and ofc i'm open to any and all feedback :) pls enjoy the read!

"should i do it?"

wonyoung sighed for the nth time. "y/n, you ask me this every ten minutes and i give you the exact same answer. do it! there's nothing to lose since it's anonymous."

"yeah, but i want him to know it's from me," y/n mumbled, picking at the food on her lunch tray.

"then put your name on it."

"but what if he rejects me after that?"

"then don't put your name on it."

"but i need him to know that i like him!"

"goddamn it, y/n!" wonyoung groaned, massaging her head with her hands. "at this point just confess in person. you're really stressing me out here."

y/n rolled her eyes. "but i have like a 99.999999999% chance of rejection if i do that."

"and that's why we decided to do the confession board!" wonyoung retorted. "look, we're getting nowhere with this, so i suggest that you take my advice and- you're not even listening to me."

wonyoung was right--y/n was indeed not at all listening to her. not when the yang jungwon just entered the canteen in all his glory.

crisp uniform, broad shoulders, fluffy hair, and those gorgeous eyes. yang jungwon was just as attractive as he was yesterday. and the day before. and the day before that. scratch that, since freshman year.

the first time y/n met jungwon was in freshman biology, where they were partnered up to dissect a frog. it had been a few months since they had been in the same class, but y/n never interacted with him until they were paired together for the lab. in spite of her ridiculous comments and irritatingly loud reactions, jungwon has completed the lab calmly and with ease, even caring to explain everything she had missed while revolting at the sight of their frog.

once freshman jungwon handed in their neatly written lab report and shot a reassuring (and adorable) smile to his lab partner, y/n knew that the heat rising in her face and the rapid beating in her chest meant that she had taken a liking towards this boy.

and since then, y/n had reserved her heart for the one and only boy who managed to make her tummy flutter with giddiness.

of course, that was from way back in freshman year. has she made any progress since then? absolutely not.

even though the famous decelis academy confession board had been a temptation every single year, y/n simply could not bring herself to pin her feelings on it. but after reading hundreds of anonymous confessions, y/n had decided to finally get over her hopelessness and muster up the courage to post a note of her own. she had an intricate plan set in stone:

step one - purchase blue sticky notes (because blue is jungwon's favorite color) and dog stickers (because y/n found out that he has an adorable dog after stalking his instagram)

step two - write out a heartfelt confession that does not give away y/n's identity but still shows some hints to who she is (this would take several trials)

step three - arrive at school at exactly 8:25 AM on thursday, which is when everyone is trying to get to homeroom and will not be around the confession board located next to the art studio

step four - pin the note right in the middle of the heart from valentine's day so that it's extremely hard to miss

step five - pray that yang jungwon reads it and feels the same and asks y/n out and starts dating her and proposes to her and marries her and they live in a nice house with two kids and a dog until they grow old together

well, step five was pretty unreasonable but the rest of the plan would work! as long as y/n stopped staring at jungwon and actually started to listen to her friend, who was trying to get her to even begin step one.

"if you don't do this, some other girl might snatch him away," wonyoung commented, picking up her chopsticks and pointing them at y/n accusingly. "so you better get to work."

"okay okay, i'll do it!" y/n replied with a soft sigh following her words. "i just hope he reads it."

"he will. as long as you actually make the note," wonyoung added. "you do this every single wednesday. make this one the last time this happens."

"okay, jesus. i will. oh my fucking god."

wonyoung's lips curved into a smile. "good."

8:25 AM on a thursday. y/n was already at school, looking around the arts building for the confession board with her note in her hand. she had spent three hours crafting the perfect confession note for jungwon (the pile of crumpled sticky notes in her trashcan is enough proof of that), neatly writing out each word and carefully decorating it with little dog stickers.

she mentally crossed out step three of her plan as the wood border of the bulletin board came into her sight. it was perfect. an empty hallway with the lights dimmed down and no sounds of other students. this was her one chance to finally pin her confession to the board.

she smiled while looking at the board that was mere steps away. the spot smackdown in the middle of the large pink heart was empty, just as planned. the universe was most definitely on her side.

suddenly, y/n could hear footsteps coming from the opposite end of the hallway. panic rushed to her head as she quickly hid behind a wall near the board, stuffing the note in the pocket of her school blazer.

she peeked her head out to observe whoever was passing by. maybe it was just a teacher. or the janitor. or the theater director. either way, she needed the coast clear for her to pin her note.

the person turned around the corner, closing in on the confession board. y/n squinted her eyes, trying to catch any noticeable features. school uniform, broad shoulders, styled black hair- wait, was that yang jungwon?

y/n's eyes widened as she swallowed down the anxiety in her throat. why was yang jungwon at the confession board at (now) 8:26 AM on a thursday?

jungwon approached the confession board, his back facing y/n from her hiding spot. she could see him pull out something from his pocket and reach over to the container of thumbtack pins to the left of the board. was yang jungwon really posting a confession note?

y/n's suspicions were confirmed when he pushed a red pin through a pink sticky note, right in the empty space in the middle of the pink heart. she could feel her heart beating rapidly as she watched him walk away leisurely, fear creeping into her head once again.

she paused for a minute, unable to calm the pounding in her chest as she slumped against the cold wall. taking one last glance at the board, y/n pushed herself off of the wall and turned around, deciding to head to class.

a million questions were running through her head, but only one overshadowed any other thought she had: did yang jungwon just post a confession to another girl?

y/n felt her frown tugging even further down her face throughout the day. of course, the confession board was a hot topic every single day--especially when someone adds a new sticky note to the board. but y/n didn’t expect that the identity of the author who wrote the latest pink sticky note would be revealed so soon.

“jungwon apparently told a classmate that he wrote it, but he won’t say who it’s to,” a student said while passing y/n’s desk.

and there was that. the mystery recipient. the person who ruined all of y/n’s plans. all she wanted to do was finally confess her feelings with the hope that they could be returned. but what was the point of doing that now when her crush had already confirmed that he has feelings for another girl?

“i think it’s to minji, she’s been talking to jungwon a lot recently.”

y/n let out a frustrated huff after hearing that. she wasn’t in the mood to listen to people talk about possible candidates for jungwon’s mystery crush, especially when she barely had any chance of filling that spot.

wonyoung could only frown sympathetically, watching her friend's gloomy state. she knew how much this confession meant to y/n, but neither of them could have predicted that things would turn out this way.

“do you wanna get food, babe?” wonyoung asked, gently rubbing y/n’s head that was face-planted on her desk. “maybe a snack will help.”

“nothing can cure what i’m feeling right now,” y/n grumbled.

“you need to get up. you’ve been stuck at your desk for almost all of our break.”

“i don’t feel like getting up.”

wonyoung sighed before standing up and stretching her arms. “come on, let’s go get you something to eat. i’ll treat you.”

y/n groaned while sliding out of her seat. “i’m only doing this for free food,” she muttered as wonyoung linked arms with her.

“yeah, yeah. whatever.”

wonyoung practically dragged y/n by the arm to get to the snack shop, trying to avoid lingering in the hallway when everyone was talking about jungwon’s note.

"did you hear that jungwon confessed to someone? he confirmed it himself!"

"i think he likes rei, she's close with his friend niki."

"it has to be to minji, she's literally the only woman he'll look at."

y/n huffed at the comments flying around her with an uneasy feeling at the pit of her stomach. it upset her to imagine jungwon with another girl, staring into her eyes with love glassed across his own. she squeezed tighter onto wonyoung's arm as they swerved through the crowd, reaching their destination as quickly as possible.

unfortunately, luck was not on their side. the person y/n least wanted to see at the moment was standing at the drinks shelf, surrounded by some of his friends--and minji.

"yang jungwon!" y/n sharply hissed at wonyoung, pulling on the sleeve of the taller girl's blazer. "yang fucking jungwon is here! with minji!"

her friend turned to glance at the said boy and girl and rolled her eyes. "ignore him, let's go get our food."

y/n allowed wonyoung to drag her to the shelf stocked with savory snacks, shooting a small glare at minji before turning her head around.

what she didn't notice was that yang jungwon had recognized her presence the moment she turned around. he held the cold watermelon soda closer to his chest in an attempt to calm his racing heart.

"i don't know why people think it's me, i'm already in a relationship," minji sighed, fiddling with the strawberry milk in her hands.

"well, you do spend a lot of time with jungwon," niki reasoned, leaning against a nearby wall. "at least in terms of girl-space-friends. he doesn't have a lot of game."

"but some people think it's rei and she doesn't spend a lot of time with jungwon," minji countered. "actually, i don't think i've seen them interact since they've been introduced to each other."

"so if it's not minji or rei, who is it?" sunoo questioned.

all three students turned to look at jungwon, who slowly snapped out of his daze. "huh?"

"who'd you write the note to, won?" minji asked.

"i don't think i can answer that," jungwon mumbled, clenching the soda can tighter. "i'd prefer to keep that private."

"come on, we're your closest friends!" niki groaned, frowning at jungwon's response. "you can tell us--in exchange, we'll help you get the girl."

jungwon paused, pondering over niki's offer for a moment with his friend's eager stares fixated on him. he let out a brief sigh before answering, "fine. i'll give you a small hint."

his friends gasped, anticipation evident on their faces. jungwon took another quick glance at y/n, who was searching for seaweed-flavored chips, and felt the fluttering feeling in his stomach once again.

"she's in this room with us. right now."

his friends looked at each other with confused expressions. "it's just us four and the cashier...and intak..and minjae...and wonyoung...and y/n," sunoo listed, scanning the entire snack shop.

"the cashier? be so fucking for real right now bro," niki scoffed with a disgusted look on his face. "she's like, 70."

"no, what the fuck?" jungwon grimaced. "i mean someone our age. who do you take me for?"

"oh, i think i know who it is!" minji exclaimed with a smile. "it's y/n, isn't it?"

jungwon widened his eyes. he could feel a sharp rush of heat to his cheeks as he gulped at the mention of her name. minji let out a small chuckle at the boy's obvious reaction.

"really? you haven't talked to her since, like, freshman year," sunoo said, judging the reaction he just witnessed.

"yeah, but she's just so- ugh, you wouldn't understand. did you know that she braids her hair when she's stressed?"

"you're such a creep," niki sighed disappointedly. "no wonder you were always staring at her in class."

"look, she was doing it in first year history during our mock exam and i asked her about it," jungwon explained before glaring at niki. "i am not a creep."

"does she know your note's for her?" minji asked.

"no, i don't think so," jungwon replied with a small frown forming on his face. "i don't even think she likes me back. i mean, i don't really talk to her so i probably just seem weird."

"a creep," niki corrected, poking jungwon's shoulder harshly. "you seem like a creep."

"shut up."

"well, we can help you talk to her again so that you can show your interest," sunoo offered while tucking his phone into the back pocket of his uniform pants. "like right now."

the pink-haired boy whipped his head around to where y/n and wonyoung were standing, who had moved onto the bakery section.

"wonyoung! y/n!"

jungwon smacked sunoo immediately after the two girls' names left his mouth. "what the fuck are you doing," he muttered, trying to clench his lips together to seem like he wasn't talking.

"uh, helping you? duh," sunoo replied with a roll of his eyes.

meanwhile, the two girls stood across the snack shop, frozen with multiple bags of snacks in their arms.

"why did jungwon's friend say our name?" y/n questioned, also clenching her lips in fear that her crush would notice her talking about his friends. "and how does he know we exist?"

"the question is actually how does he know you exist," wonyoung responded before pulling y/n's arm. "come on, let's go see what he wants."

"no!" y/n whisper-yelled. "i can't...he's there...and minji's there..."

"you'll survive," wonyoung sighed. "we're going and that's final."

ignoring her friend's protests, wonyoung dragged y/n over to the group of four. "hi sunoo, what's up?"

"nothing, jungwon just wanted to tell y/n something," sunoo replied with a grin, causing jungwon's eyes to widen in concern.

"he did?" y/n mumbled.

"i did?" jungwon whispered, shooting a glare at sunoo's smiling face.

jungwon glanced at y/n but quickly looked away, swallowing down the nervous bundle in his throat. he didn't know if he could contain himself if he looked one second longer into her curious eyes.

he cleared his throat for an unnaturally long time, causing his friends to send questioning looks towards him. "um, yeah, uh...i, well, i was wondering..."

y/n found herself slightly leaning towards the anxious boy, which only caused jungwon's heart to beat faster.

"uh...do...do you have history next?"

niki rolled his eyes while minji felt the need to facepalm herself.

y/n shot a glance at wonyoung before responding, "um, yeah. why?"

"well, uh..." jungwon felt himself breaking out in a sweat, panicking to make up an excuse. "i was...uh-"

"he wanted to offer his notes to you since he just had history," sunoo quickly covered. jungwon blinked before nodding, swallowing down his anxiety once again.

y/n's eyes widened. it was common for jungwon, an intelligent and diligent student, to offer help to people in academics. but what shocked her was the fact that he offered her his history notes--as if he knew that it was her weakest subject.

she didn't hesitate to accept the offer, sending a wave of relief over jungwon. "uh, i'll drop them off once i get back to my classroom."

"yeah, no problem. thanks for the notes!" y/n replied, shooting a small smile at the boy before allowing wonyoung to drag her to the register.

once the duo was far enough, jungwon turned around to face his friends with an excited smile curled on his face. "did you see that? she smiled at me!"

"yeah, no thanks to yourself," sunoo grumbled. "i did all the work. for free!"

"you're too awkward, jungwon," minji sighed, a pained expression on her face.

"i think you should stick to being a nerd," niki commented. "it...suits you better."

niki spent the rest of the break running away from said nerd.

y/n slumped in her seat, resting her cheek in her left hand and tapping her foot on the ground. she checked the clock above the blackboard. 10:27 AM. three minutes left for jungwon to fulfill his promise.

she let out another sigh. she didn't expect herself to anticipate much from the exchange--after all, he was just offering her his history notes. but she found herself rushing back to her classroom, waiting (and struggling to wait) for his presence at the doorframe while each minute dragged on.

10:28. a frown etched onto y/n's face. the day seemed to just get worse and worse. first, her confession was ruined by her crush himself. next, her crush proceeded to post a confession to another girl. now, her crush failed to complete a promise two minutes before her least favorite class.

another moody sigh. y/n lazily reached into her bag, pulling out her history textbook and her pencil case. she should've known to never trust men, like her mother said. all men are liars.

she slowly flipped through her textbook, feeling her frown drag down even further. the classroom was bustling with chatter, savoring the last couple of minutes before another hour long class. but here she was, slouching in her seat with a gray thundercloud above her head. she could practically visualize wonyoung looking at her pathetically from across the room.

the room came to a sudden silence. y/n sluggishly raised her head. was their history teacher here early?

there he was. yang jungwon, frozen at her classroom's doorframe with a notebook in his hand. his cheeks were flushed with a light pink as he weaved through the students, approaching y/n's desk.

y/n felt herself stop breathing. he did come to fulfill his promise, after all. huh. maybe not all men are liars.

jungwon bashfully smiled at her, gently placing his notebook on her desk. he wasn't hard of hearing, he could tell that everyone was whispering about him--more specifically, about his confession note. all he could hope for was that his crush wasn't super obvious, but he was sure that what he was doing at the moment actually made it 10x more obvious.

"um, here's my notes," jungwon said in a hushed voice, conscious of the sudden volume change. "hopefully they're useful."

"thanks..." y/n mumbled, making eye contact with the boy for a mere second before glancing away. it was too hard for her to contain the pounding feelings in her heart, especially when the yang jungwon had his eyes on her (and only her).

she could only imagine a world where he would stare at her, eyes filled with love and adoration.

"no problem," jungwon replied, noting to himself about how cute she looked today. if only he could sit next to her, one arm around her shoulder and another guiding her through the history material. he would never forgive the administrator who put them in separate classes.

"um, aren't you going to be late?"

y/n's comment snapped him out of his trance, suddenly realizing that he was still standing in front of her desk with students around him still whispering about his confession note. awkward.

jungwon shut his eyes close for a second. she probably thinks i'm a creep. niki, i guess you're right.

"uh, yeah. i'll just...i'll go now."

he mustered up a little courage to send a small wave before rushing out of the room, eyes glued to the floor in front of him.

y/n let out a quiet snicker, finding the boy's awkwardness humorous (and extremely cute). unfortunately, she realized too late that everyone's eyes were still on her and coughed unnaturally loud to cover up her previous reaction.

the sound of heels clicking caused all the students' eyes to rip away from her and immediately slide into their seats. their history teacher was finally here, ready to lead another sleep-inducing lecture.

"good morning class," the history teacher, ms. choi, announced. "please turn to page 127 of your textbooks. we're picking up where we left off from last class with the silla dynasty."

y/n reached for jungwon's notebook as the students around her searched for the page in their textbooks. she easily found the respective page of notes due to the sticky note jungwon had marked the page with.

such a cute pink, y/n thought, brushing her thumb over the familiar-colored sticky note. too bad he used it for a different girl.

it was twenty minutes into the class and y/n found herself extremely bored. although jungwon's notes were perfectly organized and super helpful, y/n couldn't help but feel her attention span slowly decreasing. the textbook was boring, the content was boring, and ms. choi's voice was boring.

she decided to flip through jungwon's notebook. as expected, all of his notes were neatly written with key ideas highlighted and citations to textbook pages. what else could she expect from him?

y/n closed the notebook, running her thumb along the edge of the pages like a flipbook. the glimpses of blue highlighter partially satisfied her boredom, along with the flash of pink at the very end of the notebook. wait, pink?

y/n's curiosity got the best of her as she turned to the end of the notebook, revealing multiple pink sticky notes with lengthy paragraphs and words scratched out in black ink. being the nosy person she is, she decided to read the notes, tuning out ms. choi's monotonous voice.

i've liked you for a long time, but i haven't had the courage to confess.

oh. they were drafts of his confession note.

y/n pursed her lips, taking in a sharp breath. she swallowed down the discomfort she felt and continued to read the notes.

ever since freshman year, i've been attracted to you in so many more ways than i can describe. that sweet smile you show off to your friends. the laugh you let out at small jokes. the tenderness in your eyes as you talk with the cashier in the snack shop. i see why she said that you remind her of her granddaughter.

y/n bitterly smiled. he really likes her, huh?

i like am in love am pathetically in love with you. i feel like a lost puppy, hoping for the smallest interaction with you every single day. i wonder if you can feel my stares from across the lunch room, desperately hoping that you would happen to notice me and look back. i know we haven't talked much since freshman year, but i can't help but imagine us together.

y/n quickly diverted her eyes to a different sticky note, chewing on her lip harshly. she didn't know why, but she couldn't stop reading them, even if his words only caused her more pain.

i hope you can accept this confession, but if you don't like me back i hope we can become friends again. from, your freshman bio partner (p.s. i'm glad that we were paired up for that frog lab)

wait, frog lab? y/n's eyebrows furrowed. the only partner jungwon had for the frog dissection lab in freshman biology was...her.

y/n's heart pounded against her chest. she needed to read whatever note jungwon posted on the confession board, right fucking now.

the moment the bell rang, y/n shoved all of her history materials in her bag. she didn't want to spare a minute from reaching that damned confession board that she had been avoiding since morning.

grabbing jungwon's notebook, y/n joined the crowd of students rushing towards the canteen, forgetting about wonyoung who appeared behind her.

"let's eat with rei today, hm?" wonyoung suggested.

"can't talk right now, won. i need to be somewhere," y/n responded before pushing her way through the crowd.

"y/n, wait!"

y/n ignored her friend's concerned voice, mentally making a note to apologize to her later. she ran through the halls, opposite of all the students heading towards the canteen. hugging the notebook close to her chest, she made a beeline towards the arts building, feeling the beating in her chest increase every single second.

once she arrived, she slowed down her pace, allowing herself to catch her breath and wipe off the light sweat on her forehead. there she stood in the same position she was in at 8:25 AM, right in front of the confession board littered with colorful sticky notes.

a couple of students lingered around the board, checking for any new confessions before heading to lunch. as y/n's breathing slowed down, she approached the center of the board, eyes locked on the pink sticky note posted mere hours ago.

she took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself to read the note she had been avoiding all day.

to my freshman year crush, i've liked you for a long time, but i haven't had the courage to confess. that is, until now. ever since freshman year, i've been attracted to you. your smile, your laugh, your kind personality. it's no wonder the cashier at the snack shop says that you remind her of her granddaughter. grandparents only say that to people they know have the purest, sweetest souls on earth, and you are one of them. i am utterly, pathetically, and desperately in love with you. i feel like a lost puppy, hoping for the smallest interaction with you every single day. i wonder if you can feel my longing stares from across the lunch room, hoping that you would happen to notice me and meet my eyes. i know we haven't talked much since freshman year, but i can't help but imagine us together. i wish that i had the courage to confess in person, but i'm afraid of rejection. i hope that this confession comes off well to you, and i 100% understand if you don't like me back. i just hope that we can be friends again, at the very least. from, your freshman bio partner (p.s. i'm glad we were paired up for the frog lab. as taylor swift said, i guess i was enchanted to meet you)

y/n felt her breathing stop as she finished reading the note. it was too good to be true. she needed to talk to him, to confirm with him, and to confess to him.

she wasted no time running to the canteen, earning questioning stares from the students she passed by. the canteen was busy per usual, bustling with student chatter and silverware sounds. y/n skimmed the room, eyes landing on the one person she wanted to talk to.

she rushed towards his table, avoiding the mass of lunch trays around her. "jungwon!" she called.

the said boy looked up from his table, curious round eyes meeting hers. "could i talk to you for a minute?"

jungwon nodded, standing up to follow y/n. what she didn't notice was sunoo winking at jungwon, niki mouthing a "go get her, tiger!", and minji softly smiling with pride.

jungwon followed y/n to the hallway outside of the canteen, trickling with the last students getting their lunches. y/n faced jungwon, feeling her cheeks heat up at the sight of his curious gaze.

"um, i wanted to return this to you," y/n began, handing over his notebook.

"oh, thanks," jungwon replied, taking it into his hands. he felt himself grow a little disappointed--was that all she wanted to tell me?

y/n softly cleared her throat before deciding to continue. "so, uh, this might be in invasion of privacy but i got really bored in history and looked through your notebook and i might have found your sticky notes and i might have read them...without your permission?"

"notes? what notes?" jungwon mumbled, flipping through his notebook. it only took a second of him skimming the sticky notes in the back for him to shut the notebook closed, a furious blush spreading across his face.

"and, uh, i read one that ended with 'from your freshman bio partner' or something like that and it mentioned the frog lab. and then i remembered that i was your partner during that lab but i wasn't sure if you wrote that for sure so i went to check the confession board and it said the same thing so...yeah."

jungwon was frozen, cheeks bright red with panic-stricken eyes. "so...uh, i just wanted to confirm if-"

"yes," jungwon whispered, not daring to meet her eyes. "it- it is about you..."

he squeezed his eyes shut at the sound of silence, preparing himself for rejection. he could already feel the weight in his heart getting heavier, thumping against his chest.

"i, uh, i- i like you too, jungwon."

the boy opened his eyes, shock evident on his face. he whipped his head up, now seeing a y/n with an equally flushed face not meeting his eyes.

"y- you do?"

"yeah," y/n mumbled, a shy smile spreading on her face. "i really, really like you."

jungwon couldn't help but smile back, trying his best to contain the butterflies practically swarming in his stomach.

"so, um, i was actually planning to confess to you today," y/n admitted, earning a surprised reaction from jungwon. "but i saw you post your note on the confession board first and i got scared because...well, i thought that you confessed to someone else."

y/n reached into her blazer's pocket, pulling out the crumpled blue sticky note that she had been hiding the whole day. "i guess i'll just give it to you now since...well, yeah..."

she quickly flattened out the sticky note before handing it to jungwon, who gently took it with a small smile.

to jungwon, i've liked you for so long but i've finally decided to confess. since freshman year, you've been nothing but kind to me. i felt myself melt into a puddle every single time you shot a smile at me or offered your help with something. i can’t help but admire your charming appearance, your charismatic leadership qualities, and the smile that you give to every person alike. you’re loved by so many people and i happened to fall into that same crowd. i know you most likely do not feel the same but i hope that we can talk more, the way we did back in freshman year. from, anonymous

jungwon couldn't help the shy grin growing on his face. every word written completely erased all the anxious emotions he had in his head. this is what it feels like, he thought. this is what it feels like to be loved back.

jungwon didn't need to say anything. he simply took y/n's clammy hand into his, intertwining their shaking fingers together. no words were needed after they had spent hours of their lives writing out their feelings for each other. they shared a smile, feeling secure together and lovingly gazing into each other’s eyes.

for the first time for the day, y/n was glad that jungwon had interrupted her confession, pining his heart on the board so that she could give him hers.

taglist: @jngwnlvs

#snwpcktz long fics !#jungwon #enhypen #enhypen x reader #jungwon x reader #jungwon fluff #yang jungwon #enhypen jungwon #enhypen fluff #jungwon oneshot #enhypen oneshot #jungwon fic #enhypen fic #jungwon imagines #enhypen imagines #jungwon oneshots #enhypen oneshots #first fic i'm really scared #pls tell me if this is good and if i should write more

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ellecdc · 2 months

Note

hi again tehe! can i request poly!marauders or poly!wolfstar (whichever you choose) with a reader who's touch starved? like she just really wants a hug and a night at home cuddled up with her boyfriends but she's afraid to ask 🥺🥺🥺 maybe they tell her she doesn't have to ask for anything like that, cue the hurt/comfort?? thank u so much if you do decide to do this babe!!

hi darling!!! so I took this in a bit of a direction (I hope you don't mind): touch starved reader who also happens to be James' sister and it's a secret relationship!! this was so fun - thanks for your request

poly!wolfstar x potter!sister reader

You didn’t even have a right to feel this way right now; this had been your idea.

The three of you had been hesitant to announce your...unique relationship to your friends on account of you being James’ sister. But it was you who had decided to keep your addition to the relationship a secret. You liked seeing Sirius and Remus out in public knowing that they were stealing furtive glances your way every so often. You especially liked the shared looks, the hidden touches, all of the intimate moments you had right in front of everyone that no one ever saw.

But today...today, it hurt.

You felt so unbelievably dejected all day, feeling as if you were crawling out of your skin with want. You wanted to be held, caressed, comforted, squeezed.

But you were left having to wrap your own arms around yourself and hope for the best.

You’d gotten to the Great Hall and sat in your usual place across the table from Remus and Sirius, each of whom shared a soft smile and wink at you in a secret hello while James lamented about the Chudley Cannon’s most recent win. You felt someone’s foot – Remus’, if what you were feeling was indeed a pair of converse shoes and not Sirius’ Doc Martens – gently nudge your ankle and tried to let that be enough for now.

But it wasn’t enough, because immediately after dinner the gang all gathered together in the Gryffindor common room to set up for the party, and then immediately after that, you and the girls left to change, and by the time you were finished with that, the party was in full swing.

So, you were sitting on a loveseat pushed up against your brother who was gesturing dramatically as he recounted the Marauders latest prank on Slytherin whilst your boyfriends sat across from you, Sirius’ head in Remus’ lap as Remus ran his fingers through the other boys’ hair, both of their eyes on James as they corrected various pieces of his story. And whilst this view would usually warm your heart or cause butterflies in your stomach, right now it filled you with grief and longing.

It wasn’t fair to even ask because it had been your idea, but why did it have to be you? Why were you the one who had to sit here and pine? The one who had to find ways to comfort themselves while affection was given and taken freely between the other two as often as their hearts desired.

And then you felt guilty because you were happy that they had this with each other. But you wanted it for you.

“Prongs! Do you wanna go see who might be interested in a round of truth or dare?” Sirius asked, interrupting James mid-sentence. You figured that if James a) hadn't been as tipsy as he currently was or b) didn’t really want to play truth or dare, Sirius’ interruption would have vexed him.

“Great idea, Pads.” He opted to say, jumping up to go ask partygoers who may be interested in a game.

“Come on.” He said to you quietly then, gesturing with his head for you to follow him and Remus up to their dorm.

You felt simultaneously overjoyed at the opportunity for alone time with your boyfriends, and nervous that you were about to get a scolding for your sulking.

You walked through the door and Remus closed it behind you as Sirius turned to give you a look laced with concern. “What’s the matter dolly? You seem far away.”

Your eyes welled and your sinuses filled painfully as you let out a whimper. “I’m sorry.” You moaned miserably.

Sirius look like you had ripped him in half as Remus rushed to your side, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Awe, dovey.” He cooed. “What’s going on?”

“It’s silly.” You cried, tightening your hold around yourself as you looked to the floor in shame.

“It’s not silly if it has you this upset, baby girl. Please? What’s the matter?” Sirius begged, taking a step towards you.

“I...I just- ugh.” You tried, looking to the ceiling as if you could convince your tears to ebb through sheer determination.

“I just missed you guys today.” You said, sobbing halfway through your sentence.

“Oh, dovey.” Remus moaned commiseratively. He turned your body towards him and pulled you flush to his chest, and you were abashed at how quickly the tension left your body as you melted into his embrace.

“Sweetheart.” Sirius called to you. His tone sounded like it wanted to be chiding, but it was too full of love to do much other than make you whimper in response. “You mean you’ve been feeling this sad all day because you wanted a hug?”

You were so unbelievably embarrassed, but you knew there was no point in lying so you nodded miserably into Remus’ chest.

Sirius scoffed. “Well, that just won’t do.” He stated as he came up behind you and hugged you awkwardly between him and Remus, causing you to chuckle wetly.

“It doesn’t have to be like this; you know that, right?” Remus murmured into your hair. “Pads and I are more than ready to tell James.”

“Been ready for far too long.” Sirius pouted behind you.

“I just...I don’t... I don’t know. I don’t want to tell him.” You argued.

“But I want to be able to hug my sweet girl whenever she needs a reminder of how loved she is.” Remus countered.

“And I want to snog you in front of the whole Great Hall so that they all know exactly who you come home to at night.” Sirius added.

You made a sound between a laugh and a groan as your burrowed impossibly further into Remus’ chest.

“James came first...” You admitted, voicing your greatest insecurity. “I don’t want him to have an influence on this. I don’t want to have to share this with him.”

Remus hummed in understanding, but you could feel Sirius shaking his head behind you.

“He’s already been sharing this with you, and you with him; he just hasn’t known he was.”

“He may be miffed at first, you’re right about that.” Remus conceded. “But that won’t change the way that Sirius and I treat you, and he won’t stay mad forever.”

“He’ll likely be the most miffed to find out we’ve been hiding this, quite frankly.” Sirius concluded.

You sniffled and rested your ear against Remus’ chest, listening to his heartbeat as he rubbed soothing circles into your back, and Sirius trailed his hands up and down your arms.

This is all you wanted, right here. You didn’t want your brother to know. Not yet. Because though you trusted Remus and Sirius, you knew that some things were bound to change once James found out.

“It hurts me too, not being able to reach out to take your hand at breakfast. To not be able to carry your books and walk you to all your classes.” Remus said.

Sirius hummed in agreement. “And I’ve wanted to punch every single bloke I’ve ever seen even look at you right in the mouth. And I can’t, because that would be weird, and it sucks.”

“We have to tell him eventually, dovey.” Remus pressed seriously. “I don’t want you feeling like this for a single moment longer.”

You groaned in protest, but you knew that it was futile. You were going to have to tell your brother, or he was going to find out. Either way, one day James Potter would know that his two best friends were dating his twin sister.

“Can we tell him tomorrow?” You yielded. Remus physically deflated and you heard Sirius sigh in relief.

“Oh, thank gods.” Sirius whispered.

“Thank you, dove. You’re so brave.” Remus said, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Had anyone else said that to you, you would have thought them to be patronizing. But you knew Remus truly meant what he said.

“And just in case James does condemn me from the Potter Manor, I’ll just go stay with Moons.” Sirius said jovially.

You knew that would never happen, and you knew that Sirius knew that would never happen. Which meant he’d only said it so he could see you smile.

“I love you.” You said reverently as you lifted your head from Remus’ chest. “Both of you, so much.”

Remus smiled in adoration whilst Sirius looked proper chuffed with himself. “Still can’t believe a disowned blood traitor managed to land the two most perfect wix in all of Hogwarts.”

Remus snorted. “I still can’t believe this poor half-blood half-breed werewolf managed to pull two of the most wonderful wix in the school.” He countered.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. “I can’t believe I ended up with such saps.”

“Oi!” Sirius barked at you whilst Remus sucked in a dramatic gasp.

“You little minx.” He growled at you before he pushed you backward onto the bed and laid his long body across the top of you. You groaned dramatically, pretending as if you were suffocating under Remus’ weight even though you could tell he was supporting himself in such a way to keep the brunt of his weight off of you, even though this is exactly what you’d been looking for only moments before.

“Sorry Pads, now you gotta go play truth or dare with Prongs while I coddle our poor girlie.”

Sirius scoffed indignantly. “Fine! But if I pick truth and someone asks me who the best snogger in Hogwarts is, I’m saying Y/N!” And with that, he fled the room.

“You know what?” You said calmly. “If he lets it slip when neither of us are there, that means we don’t have to deal with the fall out.”

Remus chuckled and nosed affectionately at your cheek. “Fine by me.”

Fine by me, indeed.

#ask elle #marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #sirius black #remus lupin #poly!wolfstar x reader #poly!wolfstar x you #poly!wolfstar fluff #poly!wolfstar #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #hurt/comfort #fluff #ellecdc fics

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atinystraynstay · 2 months

Text

Off Limits - Jeong Yunho

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Synopsis: Going to college for you was very serious. Nothing could stand in the way which meant often rejecting social events and saying no to anything to risk. That was until you met Yunho, someone you would risk it all for.

Pairing: College!Jeong Yunho x fem. reader

Genre: mutual pining, strangers to friends with benefits - MINORS DNI

Contains: mentions of celibacy, mentions of alcohol consumption, nudity, oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), dirty talk, slight begging, protected intercourse, characters losing their virginity, orgasm

Note: based on a request from @jonghoslvt ☆ no joke, I adore you and never thought you'd take up my offer. I really hope this doesn't disappoint because I literally fell in love with the idea the moment you hit my inbox

Word Count: 7.8k

"But y/n, it's not even a frat party," your best friend whined. "Yeah! We're too old for that anyways," your other friend chimed in.

You currently found yourself in a standoff. At first, you had situated yourself in your bed with your textbooks to have a quiet night in. Your friends, however, took it upon themselves to propose an alternative idea. One that you often rejected.

"Are you forgetting that we have midterms next week? I would like to start spring break stress-free."

Your entire life has been focused on going to college. If asked about your childhood, you would always recall how happy you were growing up. But you never overlooked the sacrifices your parents made for you. Going to college was never realistic or them, so they worked overtime I order to provide you with the opportunity to live a better life than they ever got a chance for. Their struggles were something you can never ignore, which made you want to work hard to make them proud.

And since getting to college, it was about doing well to be able to show them why their hard work was worth it. You also had a personal goal of being able to afford to repay them for everything.

To get to that point, that meant often saying no to social obligations so you could study. Your weekends often looked like you were crammed in the library. Or, if you needed human interaction, propping yourself at a coffee shop to mix in with the crowd.

Breaks were the opportunities to let loose and have a little bit of fun. Yet, your breaks often looked like doing work for internships. Now that senior year has arrived, you are also adding in time to scroll through LinkedIn and Indeed for potential job openings

"Y/n, I adore you, and what a little studious bookworm you are. However, it is senior year. We have less than 3 months to make stupid decisions before adult obligations. There is also the chance we might not be living even in the same state or country! Do you really want to live life only when we come to visit or you visit someone else?"

You never went to a frat party. You never had a random hookup. You always played things safe.

You couldn't help but let out a sigh as you gazed down at your lap where your textbook rested. She had a point. While you were very excited about being that true adult version of you, you weren't ready for the hard parts of it like no longer living with your best friends or really having little interaction.

"And I'll tell you what. We don't have to stay all night. If you get overwhelmed or are over it, we will come straight home and watch Love Is Blind."

You perked up at her compromise. When you looked up, hopeful eyes were staring back at you before you silently nodded. That was enough to send them into squeals and start to drag yourself out of bed.

What were you getting yourself into?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Little did you know, across campus, a similar debate was going on.

"Guys, I really don't like house parties like that," Yunho huffed. "And how do you know if you've ever been?" Mingi challenged him.

Yunho couldn't help but narrow his eyes on his best friend. He had a point, but damn, did he hate it when he was right. Out of the two them, Mingi was the more social one. Before a party was finalized, Mingi was already receiving texts about the details so word could spread like wildfire.

On the other hand, Yunho often opted for quiet nights in. He would spend nights either gaming with Seonghwa or drinking at home with a few friends. What was the point in going to a house party when they already had beer in their apartment?

There was also a part that loved hearing Mingi's retelling of what went down. Yunho simply didn't like parties, the situations that could arise from consuming too much alcohol, and the morning recovery.

"You owe me!" "For what?!"' "I mean," Mingi began. "I am your best friend. I'm sure you owe me something!"

Yunho rolled his eyes but couldn't fight the smirk curling onto his lips. It amused him greatly the antics Mingi always tried getting into, and how he basically became a whimpering puppy for attention.

"What will you do for me if I go?" Yunho challenged. "I will literally never ask you to come out again if you absolutely hate it. Or I will do all the chores in the house for the next month."

That caught Yunho's attention instantly. He liked to consider himself a very clean man, never knowing who might step into their humble abode. However, Yunho still liked to maintain a welcoming household and seemed like he had things together. First impressions mattered the most to him. And it was no secret Mingi often dirtied up any clean space, no matter how recently Yunho finished cleaning.

"Wait? Are you being serious?"

With Mingi cleaning, that meant that Yunho could just spend time the way he wanted to - playing video games and chilling with his friends. Yunho definitely was a person who liked being around people, but he didn't like situations that could get messy quickly. Hence why there was a slight aversion to going to parties where things could go 0 to 100 too quickly.

At home, Yunho was in control. He was the mood maker who kept a warm, welcoming environment. That meant one that was clean and safe for everyone. An oasis from the chaos of university.

"I'm dead serious, Yunho." "Deal!"

Little to Yunho know just how overwhelming the atmosphere would be. Even though Yunho certainly liked making memories with his friends, he was almost intimidated. All around him were drinks being passed left and right, not even knowing what was in the drink but it made his noise scrunch up as all he could smell was cheap perfume and alcohol. It practically burned his nostrils.

"Relax, Yunho," Wooyoung laughed. "You are about to give away that you've never had pussy before."

Yunho's head snapped towards his younger friend, a look of shock on his face. "Do you ever not think with your dick?"

"Will you ever sleep with someone? Come on. You're in college. Make a bad decision." "I'm fine with sticking to this one," Yunho sighed.

It wasn't that Yunho didn't want to have sex. However, he knew just how special being intimate with someone is. What mattered to him was waiting for the person he felt like he could be that vulnerable with. Just finding a random person and doing it sounds disgusting. Not how he wanted his first time go.

Nobody has caught his attention yet.

"Oh ease up, Yunho. Woo just is looking out for you," Mingi laughed. "But if you do find someone, bedrooms are open upstairs.

I think I'm going to be sick.

"Well, to be the bearer of good news," Jongho called out. "It seems like Yunho has a pair of eyes on him."

What was he talking about?

Slowly, Yunho looked over his shoulder whereas his friends seemed to wipe their heads around. Way to be subtle. There was this pattern that always occurred where girls seemed to have taken an interest in Yunho, but he never reciprocated. He was just content with the way things were in his life - no drama, no mess.

His eyes widened slightly at the sight behind him. There's no way.

Yunho has seen you around campus before. The two of you have never had a class together, seeing as your respective programs were in two different buildings. Yet, there were always ways you two crossed paths. You were heavily involved on campus or often in the library studying. Yunho did frequent the library, but if there was no immediate open spot available, he would leave. He always thought you were cute, but the opportunity never presented itself where he could make a move.

He didn't quite think that asking someone, a complete stranger, out on a date in the library when they were obviously busy was romantic.

To be honest, he never saw you as a party girl. You were often studying out of your mountain of textbooks or typing like your life depended on it on your laptop. He adored that side of you. When your hair was pulled back and your glasses framed your face, highlighting your big eyes.

Tonight, you opted for a different look. You ditched your sweats for a short black skirt that had a small slit on the right side. You wore a white shirt but that was mostly hidden underneath the leather jacket you wore. Your hair was downing loose curls. Your makeup also looked like it was light, but he was drawn to your cherry red lipstick.

I wonder if it also tastes like cherries.

Yet, tonight, you seemed like you had no agenda. Your eyes did glance in his direction, followed by whispers and giggles from your friends. To say his interest was peaked is an understatement.

You were someone who caught his attention. And his friends seemed to notice.

"Hey y/n," Mingi called out.

Yunho's head immediately turned towards Mingi who wore a smirk on his face. He wouldn't.

But it was too late. Mingi was already halfway across the room to greet you and your friends. And Yunho was hot on his trails.

"See you finally are breaking out of the library to join the rest of us," he commented.

You rolled your eyes before greeting him with a hug. Of course, Mingi knew you. He knew everyone. How did you two meet though? You weren't an ex-girlfriend or else you would have been over to the dorms. And you had a face that was impossible to forget. Maybe Mingi got tutoring from you?

"Don't hold your breath, Mingi. I was offered an out if I want to take it," you warned.

Your voice was just as angelic as Yunho imagined it. You often studied alone, unless you were shoved into a group project by your professors. Hearing how you speak made his heart flutter.

"Well maybe I can offer a reason to stay?"

You tilted your head in confusion. Mingi nodded over his shoulder which caused you to instinctively look over.

Everything else froze the moment your eyes met. It was like a scene from a romantic movie where the lights highlight the dream girl, music fades out. Nothing else matters at the moment besides you.

"Y/n, I want you to meet my best friend, Jeong Yunho. Yunho, be nice. This is y/n."

I was brought back to reality by Mingi gently patting me on the shoulder and giving me a slight shove. Luckily, I was quick on my feet to prevent myself from stumbling into this girl and making a fool out of myself. The wouldn't be a great first impression.

By your body language, Yunho could tell that you were out of your element. But so was he. Your eyes bounced around as you noticed your friends and his had left the two of you alone.

"Why don't we head out of here? Maybe go to the kitchen? Away from the crowds?"

Your eyes instantly lit up at his offered. The sight of you feeling relieved made Yunho felt proud, but also served as a motivating factor to ensure you always felt that content especially around him.

With a hand on your lower back, Yunho escorted you two out of the main part of the house. His eyes flickered all around to see where there were less people. However, people were playing drinking games in the kitchen. He glanced down at the cup in your hand to see you still had something to drink. The stairs, on the other hand, were vacant.

"Come on, let's go upstairs. I've been wanting to get to know you, y/n," he confessed.

Instantly, you felt your cheeks heat up. You nodded before following Yunho's lead. Your friend groups watched almost in astonishment at how quickly things progressed. Mingi was the proudest, as he played cupid after all.

As the two of you descended up the stairs, you could hear the bass of the music from below but could not quite make out the words. The loud conversations faded out to where you could just hear the footsteps of you and Yunho. You swore though you could feel your racing, and you were nervous Yunho could hear it too.

He flashed you a warm smile as he began trying the doorknob on the first door he saw.

"Occupied!" Someone shouted from within. The two of you felt yourself get hot in the face.

Quickly, he maneuvered the two of you to the bedroom across the hallway. Luckily, the door was slightly cracked and lights were off. An indicator that it was unoccupied. And to confirm, Yunho stepped in first by gently pushing the door. He let out a sigh of relief as there was no one.

"Perfect. Now I can actually get to know you."

He wanted to know me? The girl who is always studying?

He stepped out of the doorway, his back against the bedroom door to allow you inside. You thanked him with a soft smile before stepping into the room. You did notice he closed the door but also left it unlocked. It honestly made you feel a bit safer just by his gentle gaze and consideration.

Whenever you've seen Yunho walking around campus, you've always taken note of his soft aura. Maybe that's why it was so easy to lean into the potential friendship with him.

You found yourself walking into the room, sitting on the edge of the bed. Your hands flattened out the skirt so it covered a bit more of your legs. Yunho joined you, keeping a bit of space but nothing too much. Just enough so you could speak one another but be respectful and mindful of your own personal space.

"I'm surprised to see you here tonight," Yunho commented, a smile still on his lips. "You just never seemed to be the party girl." "You know me already," you laughed. "I'm honestly not but my friends want to make lasting memories before graduation," you explained.

Yunho couldn't help but chuckle which caused you to raise an eyebrow. He quickly cleared his throat, a light hue coating his cheeks.

"Sorry, I'm not laughing at you, I promise. It just seems that our friends are in the same mindset since that's why I got dragged out of the apartment tonight." "I guess it isn't so bad now that I'm here with you."

You swore that Yunho's cheeks got darker. You also noticed how his smile widened to the point his eyes became hidden. He was just too adorable.

"So mystery girl knows who I am," he chuckled again.

God, his laugh was so infectious. I could just sit hear and listen to it all day.

"And I'm surprised my campus crush knows even who I am." "Oh? I'm your campus crush?" He smirked.

Now it was your turn to blush a bit. Damn, caught red-handed.

"Well yeah. I've seen you all over with Mingi or when you are trying to study in the library. Guess you could say I've always been curious."

Yunho's ego soared. He didn't come here to get lucky, but he was. He felt as if he had one the lottery.

"There's something else I've been curious about," he admitted.

Your upper body had turned towards him. The moonlight shining from the window made your eyes sparkle. It was as if you had the whole universe in your eyes. Your head was tilted slightly, a habit Yunho was quickly learning about you and equally adored.

One hand remained at a respectful spot in the space between the two of you. Yet, his right hand reached across to cup your cheek. His thumb caressed your cheek affectionately as your eyes widened slightly. Yet, your body felt relaxed underneath his touch.

He never wanted to take things too far, but a little kiss never hurts, right?

"Is it okay if I kiss you, y/n?" He whispered.

Your name coming from his lips sent butterflies in your stomach. "Yes," you whispered back.

He offered another gentle smile before he leaned in to press his lips against yours. His lips felt soft and gentle as he didn't want to pressure you to kiss him back. But you would be a mad person if you didn't. You matched his tempo, allowing him to lead the kiss.

Tiny electric shocks were sent throughout your body. You couldn't help but allow your arms to wrap around his neck, which gave him the green light to move his hand off the bed to your knee. His warm hand caressed your exposed skin.

"I like the feeling of your hands on me," you murmured against his lips.

Fuck, Yunho, you're in trouble. Your statement made his brain all fuzzy. Yet, he didn't want to get too ahead of himself. He was almost positive you meant innocence in your statement.

His hand moved from your knee to your hip where he lifted you with ease. You gasped softly, pulling back from the kiss. You never expected him to be so strong! Your mouth was slightly open as you were positioned on his lap.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," Yunho said. "Did I move too fast?"

You turned towards him and shock your head. Your heartbeat was felt throughout your whole body. If it was anyone else, you might have gone running out the door by how overwhelmingly intense the moment felt. With Yunho? All you wanted was to stay.

"No, this is perfect," you confessed. Your one hand stayed wrapped around his neck, your fingers running through your hair. "Is this okay? I mean, I've never done anything like this before. I don't just kiss cute boys who I barely now."

Yunho couldn't help but smile softly at your sentiment. You were too sweet. "Well, maybe we can become more than strangers?" His hand caressed your side affectionately, easing any nerves left in your body.

"I'd like that," you whispered.

You were about to go in to kiss Yunho again when the bedroom door busted open. You gasped as Yunho gently moved you off, shielding your body. The people who busted in just gasped before quickly closing the door behind them, muttering apologizes.

Way to kill the mood.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That was three weeks ago. Yunho and you kept in good contact, especially now that Mingi prided himself in bringing two of his favorite people together. Even though you and Yunho were as far from being a couple as anything else. If anything, you two were beginning to deepen your friendship.

Yunho now had a reliable person to study, with who would keep him accountable for actually getting work done. And you had someone who made life fell less lonely.

And it was a bonus that each study session ended with a makeout session at your apartment. It was almost a ritual between the two of you. At the end of the night, Yunho would make sure you had eaten before walking him. You would then offer to come in for some water or coffee, depending on what else he had going on in the evening. Which were ultimately excuses to go to your bedroom.

Never before had you felt so safe with someone. Yunho looked after you, which honestly blew you away considering how new the friendship was. Yet, for Yunho, taking care of you was a duty. Even if you weren't official, he always wanted to make sure you knew someone was looking out for you.

That was as evident as ever when you two were behind closed doors. Light kisses led to light touches. His hands often wondered to your lower back, maybe underneath your shirt to cup your bra-covered breasts. Your hands would fall on his chest, sometimes down his abs towards where his belt was. Kisses on your lips led to neck kisses then to hickies which your roommates teased you relentlessly about.

Nothing more though. You had told Yunho that you were always anxious when it came to sex. You didn't want to jeopardize everything you worked for. And Yunho always respected that, especially since he was waiting for the right person. He didn't want to regret something so meaningful. And you respected that too.

Yet, you couldn't ignore your own urges anymore. There was something powerful between the two of you. You just weren't sure how to tell Yunho how you were feeling without scaring him off.

The past three weeks have been the time of your life. He made you feel warm and fuzzy, as if you were the main character in a Nicholas Spark's novel. And Yunho felt like he was on Cloud 9 with you. He never wanted to lose that feeling.

Buzz buzz

You were currently in the kitchen of your college apartment, slicing up an apple and peanut butter. A favorite study time snack of yours. Your eyes warned over to see Yunho's name flash on your phone which instantly brought a smile on your face.

"Oh! Y/n must be talking to Yunho," your roommate teased.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't fight the smile growing on your lips. Yeah, you were down bad for him.

"Hey pretty girl, what are you up to today?" "Not studying! I got everything done." "So you have time for me?"

Your smile grew wider at his text. You literally felt your heart flutter.

"Maybe.. is it worth it though?" "Oh darling, don't you worry. I'm going to make sure you feel on top of the world." "Where are we going?" "My place? 7pm?"

You glanced at the time at the top left corner of your phone. 5:41pm. Not much time to get ready.

"Anything I should bring over?" "Just yourself. It is all I need."

Lord have mercy.

Your snack was long forgotten as you ran up the stairs. The excitement about seeing Yunho, being alone with him drove you in ways academic achievement and goals accomplished never could.

You wear wearing a loose sweatshirt and a pair of leggings. Nothing too suggestive but also easy to remove. You never wanted to go in assuming any situation, but you couldn't help but be hopeful. Your roommates also noticed your change of perspective since Yunho came into your life. They liked seeing this side of you - the side where you were allowing yourself to enjoy life rather than focus on work and outcomes.

"Make sure you say hi to Yunho for us," your one roommate teased as you rushed to grab your wallet and keys. "Should we expect you tonight or tomorrow afternoon?"

Your cheeks were a bit red, not from embarrassment. There was not one ounce that was ashamed to be so scandalous with Yunho. Maybe it was because it was your little secret, the part of your that you were allowing to flourish for the first time, that was being exposed. While you weren't sure if you and Yunho would be anything more than friends, you were safe to say you were no longer strangers.

"I'll just text you guys when I'm heading home," you laughed, trying to ease your own nerves. Yet, you felt all the butterflies in your stomach which mad you jittery.

"Oh, no need. We have your location, y/n." "Creeps," you huffed. "Or just care about your well-being! But we also know Yunho will take care of that part."

I need to get out of here. Glancing at the clock, you saw it was 6:47pm. Yunho was just a 5 minute walk away from your apartment, so you were in no rush but any excuse to get to Yunho quickly.

"Hey, I'm heading over now :)" you texted him. "Can't wait to be with you."

You waved goodbye to your roommates who sounded off in encouraging cheers. You shook your head playfully before walking out the door to Yunho's apartment. With each step, your heartbeat is faster and louder. He had you wrapped around his finger and you didn't even know how to tell him.

"Hi pretty girl," Yunho said, answering the door. His height always left you breathless. You knew you were down bad when his height is something you adore. He was dressed in a grey sweatshirt with a yellow smiley face in the middle and black sweatpants.

Gently, he stepped out of the way to allow you to enter. You smiled appreciatively before walking in and slipped off your shoes. Mingi was in the kitchen, wiping down the countertop after dinner assumedly.

"Hey y/n. I'm about to head out!" He exchanged a look with Yunho, but you were too hyper-focused on Yunho's hand on your lower back. You could basically turn into Jell-o. "I'll see you around," he snickered.

"Bye Mingi," Yunho muttered. His demeanor softened when he turned towards you though, offering that gentle smile that makes you want to do anything he says. "Wanna go up to my room?"

You nodded before taking the lead. You've been all too familiar with the staircase that led up to Yunho's bedroom. Each time you walked in front of him, Yunho struggled. He surely had the best view in the world but wanted to do his absolute best to remain respectful.

Once you arrived in his room, you were a bit taken back. This wasn't the usual setup. You were much accustomed to the floor lamp being on, his laptop ready for a movie.

Tonight, the no lights were on. Instead, he had lit a few candles that were new additions to the top of his dresser. It created a glow in the room that was warm and welcoming. It also had a smell of vanilla and cashmere, two of your favorite scents. He was a good listener. Soft, sensual music was playing in the background from the speaker by his desk.

You stepped into the room but didn't go to the bed this time. You turned towards him, keeping a bit of distance but yearning to be close to him.

"What's all this for, Yunho?"

He loved the way his name sounded from your lips. It sent shivers down his spine. He smiled gently before taking a step closer, closing the door behind him. Once again, he didn't lock it right away. Yunho was the exception in a world of boys where he was a gentleman. He always offered you an out, always a way to leave if you so choose. Yunho never placed expectations on you. He followed your lead.

"Y/n," he began. One of his hands gently reached out for yours, fingers gently wrapping around your own but not quite holding it just yet. It was endearing. "You mean so much to me. I mean, I've always been mesmerized by you, but I never knew someone could have such a large impact until you came into my life. I've never wanted to open up to someone the way I open up to you."

Your eyes widened slightly, stepping even a bit closer to Yunho. Your mind was jumping to conclusions but you did everything to stay calm.

"There is just something special between us, angel," he whispered. His hand fully slipped into yours as the other gently moved to hold your hip, keeping you close. His touch was gentle yet firm, almost as if he was begging you to say but also allowing you to move if you desired. "You complete me in ways I never imagined. Both emotionally and mentally, and our physical connection is something I'd like to explore more."

Oh my god.

"I understand if maybe that's something you never wanted with me but-" "But just kiss me. Please."

His eyes now widened this time. You were biting your lip gently as you gazed up at him with your big doe eyes.

Come on, Yunho. Get it together.

No longer hesitating, he leaned in fully to press his lips against yours. His hand squeezed your hip affectionately. Unlike the other times he's kissed you, this was more passion. He had a certain level of assertiveness that made you melt. Your hands moved from holding his to resting on his chest and the other on his arm.

With ease, Yunho picked you up which caused you squeal. He pulled back from the kiss to look up at you. You noticed this time his gaze was a bit more seductive which made you feel all tingly.

"Oh darling, I'll get you squealing for another reason soon enough," he promised you.

Your legs wrapped around his waist. You knew he'd never let you fall, so your action was more to lure him in closer. His hands moved to hold your ass, giving a playful squeeze which indeed sent your squealing again. Even though the sensations were newer to you, it felt so good when it was Yunho touching you.

Gently, Yunho tossed you on his bed. Your sweatshirt moved a bit to expose your midriff. Your hair was sprawled out on his comforter. And with the glow from the candles, Yunho swore you looked angelic.

"You can say no at anytime, darling," he promised you. His voice was in a soft tone but firm. This was serious for him which made your heart swell.

"I trust you. This is new for me too, but I want to experience it with you."

At first, he remained standing at the foot of his bed. Just enough so he could slip his own sweatshirt over his head. You couldn't help but stare at his exposed chest. He was built so beautifully.

Yunho noticed which caused him to smirk. Not wanting to be apart from you any longer, his hands gently then moved to your exposed skin. "What do you crave first, darling? I want to make sure you're all wet for me."

His words caused your cheeks to warm up tremendously. Your brain was all fuzzy just coming to realize this was actually happening. You were about to have sex with Yunho, your campus crush. This felt just too good yet nothing extraordinary has happened yet.

"Could you eat me out? I've always wanted to know what it feels like," you confessed. "Your wish is my command, princess."

His hands moved from your hips to the waistband of your leggings. He glanced up at you once more to make sure you were comfortable and okay with proceeding. You couldn't help but giggle before running your hand through his hair comfortingly, giving him the nod he needed.

"So gorgeous, y/n, baby," he murmured. His lips kissed the exposed skin of your tummy before both of his hands began to move your legging dow your legs. "You look amazing in these leggings, but I'm so honored to be the one to take them off of you." His eyes then noticed the pink lace panties that you were wearing underneath. A tiny bow was in the front which made his mouth water.

You shivered as his hands gently began to tug off your panties. It was a bit chilly in the room for which Yunho smiled apologetically.

"I'll warm you up in no time, darling." "I have no doubt, baby. I know you always look out for me." "Always," Yunho vowed.

With your leggings and panties on the floor, Yunho crotched in front of you. His hands rested on your knees gently, thumbs caressing the outer part. He was a bit surprised how you opened them almost automatically for him, but he was overjoyed to know you wanted this just as much as him.

His cock twitched at the sight of how wet you already were, a slight glisten already noticeable. "My baby girl needs me, hmm?"

"I like when you speak to me like that," you confessed, letting out a shaky breath.

Yunho moved your one leg over his shoulder as the other rested on your thigh. He wanted to make sure you were comfortable. "What? You like knowing that I want you all to myself? That I want to be selfish?"

You were propped up on your elbows, gazing down at him. Your teeth were sunk into your lower lip in anticipation. All you could bring yourself was to nod in confirmation.

"Well, y/n, sweet girl. You are mine. You've been mine since the party, so don't doubt it again."

His tongue then licked a long strip along your pussy up to your clit. You let out a loud gasp, head tilting back. His hot breath hit your pussy causing you to shiver and spread your legs a bit wider, offering yourself completely to him. He hummed in satisfaction before letting the tip of his tongue circle your clit.

Your back arched slightly off his comforter. Your eyes fluttered shut as you let yourself immerse fully into the pleasure.

He loved the taste of you. So sweet. His tongue ventured up and down your pussy before sticking into your tight hole. You let out a soft moan. It was music to his ears, knowing that he was capable of making you feel so good.

His cock was hardening by the sounds you were making. Twitching and began for attention. Soon though, he would get the relief he's always fantasized about.

You were his main priority though. He wanted this to be just as special, as meaningful for you as it was for him.

He pulled back which made your head snap down. Yunho couldn't help the small pout that formed on your lips. "Don't worry, darlin'. I'm not going anywhere." His lips began to press kisses into your thighs as his one hand left your knee to gently trace along your pussy.

"Is it okay if I finger you, angel? Just want to make sure you're stretched out for me. Don't want to hurt you."

His speech was a bit slurred, almost as if he was drunk off the taste of you.

"Please. I want to feel all of you, want to feel of this for the first time with you."

Yunho leaned down to kiss your thighs. He moved his kisses towards your clit. He could imagine the feeling might be a bit uncomfortable for you at first, so he wanted to help ease you a bit.

When his lips met your clit, he kissed it delicately before wrapping his lips around it. He began sucking on it which had you moaning sweetly. He couldn't help but smile before sliding one finger into you. His eyes looked up at you to see your mouth slightly open. Yet, your body remained relaxed on his bed.

He moved his finger in and out of your pussy slowly. He let out a groan at the feeling of how warm, how wet you were. You just felt so inviting it sent him into a frenzy. He craved more that he was struggling to hold himself back but he knew all good things come with time. His cock was straining against his pants painfully.

"I'm going to add another, sweetheart, okay?" He murmured against you. The vibration of his voice against your pussy caused you to whimper out in euphoria as you still nodded your head.

"Can I hold your hand, baby?" you begged softly.

Instantly, his free hand left your thigh to rest against the comforter for you to hold. He didn't need to be told twice. Whether it was for reassurance or to feel close to him, he would do anything for you.

Slowly, he slipped another finger into you. This time, at the feeling of how full you were, your body tensed a bit. Yet, Yunho kept his fingers still inside of you. He didn't want to rush in as he kept his gaze on you. Feeling your fingers slip into his hand, he squeezed your hand reassuringly. And this time, you squeezed back. "Keep going. Please."

His fingers moved slowly. He couldn't help but stifle the moan from his lips as he wanted to suck on your clit a bit harder, to make sure you were still feeling good. When you started moaning again, he began to curl his fingers gently into your g-spot. That made you moan louder than before, an encouragement for Yunho to proceed.

He then began to spread his two fingers apart, stretching you out properly. Your eyes widened, your breathing becoming shaky and shallow.

"Speak to me, baby girl. How does this feel?" "S-so good, baby." "Tell me what you need." "You. Please." "How do you want me? You've already got me. Right here, angel." "I want you to fuck me."

His fingers stilled inside of you as he pulled back from your clit. He looked up at you as he knew there was no going back. He knew he wanted to continue, but he just wanted to make sure you weren't too caught up in the moment. He didn't want you regret such a vulnerable moment with him.

"Are you positive?" He asked in a gentle voice. "I've never been more sure of anything."

Slowly, his fingers slipped out of your pussy. You whimpered at the lose of contact but quickly moaned when you saw his fingers enter his mouth. He sucked on them gently, humming against his digits. You've never witnessed something so attractive before. Your cheeks were flushed at the sight too.

"So delicious, angel. Thank you for letting me have a taste."

Now standing fully at the end of his bed, his hands moved to undo his belt and unzip his pants. Your eyes widened when you saw the tent in his pants. You couldn't believe he got so turned on by tasting and touching you.

Seeing the effect you had over him made you feel powerful.

Noticing you were staring, he winked at you. "You are the only one with this effect over me. Only one I ever want." His belt clinked against the floor as his pants soon joined, exposing his grey boxers. He was so hot. Does he even know that? You were going to move up to offer to jerk him off or suck him but he stopped you before your upper body could even leave his bed.

Did you do something wrong? You frowned a bit as your eyes quickly landed on his. Was he regretting going this far with you?

"Tonight is all about you, sweetheart." "But I want to make this special for you too," you frowned. "You just being here is enough to make this special. I promise."

You were a bit hesitant, wanting to be insistent on making him feel good. But with the look in his eyes the lustful gaze, you knew it was not a topic up for debate. You settled back onto his comforter as he moved to grab a condom from his bedside table.

He was a man prepared for any scenario. Whether it be one of his friends needing a condom or when a moment like this finally presented itself.

His boxers soon joined the floor. His cock instantly slapped against his abs. You noticed the veins running around the sides and the angry red tip, begging for attention. You made a mental note that you just had to suck Jeong Yunho off.

He grabbed the gold wrapper to tear it open. His right hand grabbed the base of his cock to hold it still as his left hand skillfully slipped the latex on. It just made his cock glisten, make it more appealing.

Finally, Yunho joined you on the bed. His knees rested in between your legs to keep you spread for him. His one hand rested by your head as the other cupped your cheek. You felt his forehead press against yours but not once did he look away from you.

"I mean it when I say we can stop at any point, angel. Just say the word." "Yunho, you're too sweet to me but I need you."

You needed him. God, his eyes nearly rolled at the words you spoke.

He pressed his lips to yours for a moment. Even the room felt hot and heavy, he wanted to remind you just how important you were to him. You kissed him back for a moment until you felt his tip against your pussy. He kept his gaze on you, wanting to make sure you were okay with what happened.

"You ready?" "Yeah," you breathed out.

As slow as ever, Yunho pushed his tip into you. You bit you lip as you kept your eyes trained on him. It felt familiar, just like when his fingers entered you. You nodded slowly before he began to push more of himself into your pussy. His head nearly rolling back at the feeling of how warm and tight you were around him. "Fuck," he breathed out.

The sound of you letting out another whimper caused him to snap back to reality. He frowned when he noticed the tears in your eyes.

"Oh angel," he whispered. He didn't dare move another inch. This wasn't about his pleasure, this was about you. "What's wrong?" "It's just a lot," you confessed. Salty tears began to leave your eyes as you let out a shaky breath. "Do you want me to stop?" "No, no," you begged. "I just need a moment."

Yunho nodded understandingly. He began to press soft kisses along your cheeks, your nose - anything to distract you from the pressure and temporary pain. He wanted to kiss you fully but he noticed you were breathing in deeply, trying to collect yourself and he didn't want to be inconsiderate.

"Take your time," he whispered. His hand moved to wipe your tears. "I go when you say go. I stop when you say stop." You took in another deep breath, really being able to feel how deep he was as your puss instinctively gripped his cock. He bit his lip to not moan, not wanting to do something that pressured you to say go.

However, in the few seconds of regulating your breathing, the pain began to feel like pleasure. It felt good. It was an odd feeling for sure, but one you wanted to continue with.

"Yunho?" you called out gently.

He pulled back so he could look into your eyes. His lips were curled up into that signature soft smile.

"Keep going. Please."

His eyes were trained on yours, almost as if he was looking for any hesitation. Yet, when he didn't see any, he nodded his head gently.

Before continuing to slip himself into you, he offered his hand for you to hold again. He really was a gentleman. Your fingers instantly slipped into his and you gave him a reassuring squeeze. That's all Yunho needed to continue slipping into your pussy.

Your breathing hitched again, but you remembered to breathe through it. And while it was a bit uncomfortable, it wasn't as bad as when you two started. You moaned when he eventually filled you completely.

"You okay, darling?"

He kept still but you could feel all of him inside of you. You felt so close, so vulnerable with him. It was overwhelming in the best sense.

"Never been better," you breathed out.

Satisfied, he began to retreat his hips before thrusting into you. Your head rolled back against his pillows and he rolled his head back at the feeling. "God damn," he breathed out. "You feel so good, angel. All for me."

His thrusts were slow at first, at an even pace. He was treating you as if you were the most delicate thing in the world, something that needed to be fiercely looked after. And while you might have enjoyed the sentiment, you just needed him.

"Baby, go faster, please." "Fuck, are you sure? If you say yes, I might not be able to hold myself back anymore." "Let loose, baby boy." That's all he needed to hear. His hand planted firmly on the space by your head, his other hand still holding yours. However, his thrusts became quicker, became deeper. It was as if something primal took over him.

Your moans were louder as you felt all of him entirely with each threat. He was so big, so thick. He filled you up just so heavenly, in ways you couldn't describe besides perfection.

"That's it," you whined out. "Right there, baby." "God, I could die a happy man this way."

You couldn't help but giggle as you moved your free hand to rest on his shoulder. Your fingernails dug slightly into his skin which seemed to send him pounding deeper into you.

The sound of wet skin slapping made him nearly delirious. He never imagined this would be happening especially not with you. Yunho truly won the jackpot. He watched as your eyes rolled back, your cheeks a light pink color. Your lips were slightly parted as you moaned without any control.

"You're so gorgeous, y/n."

Your walls began to tighten around him, a fire-like feeling taking over your stomach. His jaw was clenched, almost as if he was concentrating. You were a bit curious but began to notice the veins protruding out of his forearms from how hard he was thrusting.

You began to put the dots together.

"Are you close, baby?" "So fucking close," he huffed out. "Are you?"

His eyes were practically glued on you. All to make sure you felt on top of the world. He loved knowing that you two were sharing this experience together. The grip you had on his shoulder further encouraged him to give you everything he had.

No room to hesitate or overthink. "Yeah," you whimpered.

Sweat was beginning to coat his skin. You early drooled at the sight of how delicious he looked. How did you get so lucky?

"Let go, y/n, baby. I'm right there with you."

With one particularly hard thrust, you lost it. You felt like you were being sent into another dimension but the intensity of your orgasm. Nothing could have prepared you for the feeling as you truly believed you saw stars. Your legs shook slightly as Yunho groaned loudly, spurting his hot cum into the condom.

The heavy breathing from the two of you filled the room. The world outside of his bedroom seemed so far away as you felt so consumed by Jeong Yunho. You wouldn't want it any other way.

His cock started to soften inside of you but you two couldn’t bring yourselves to move. Your arms moved to wrap around him softly as he laid gently on you, keeping you close.

There was no other place you wanted to be. I guess sometimes you do need to take a risk and do something that might seem like it is off-limits.

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storiesforthemoonchild · 1 month

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Mi Luna Llena | Aitana Bonmatí x Reader

wrote this like a week ago bc I was listening to Luna by Aitana on repeat, but then forgot to post it... enjoy!

“Please don’t cry. If you cry then I’ll cry,” you plead, using the pad of your thumb to wipe the lone tear falling down Aitana’s cheek. She gives you a pitifully sad forced smile, trying her best to keep herself together.

“I will miss you,” she chokes out, her voice laced with emotion. “Only two months?” She knew the answer, it had been the same routine for the last eight months you’d been touring, gone for two months and back for two weeks.

Still you nod, wishing you could comfort her and tell her that time would fly by this time but you can’t. Even one night felt like a lifetime when she wasn’t in your arms. “I’m always here,” you poke softly at her heart, a reminder that even far apart you were hers.

Aitana’s head falls to your shoulder, unable to keep the tears from flowing freely any longer, but she didn’t want you to see. She knew you would feel guilty and that’s not what she wanted. Leaving was always hard on both of you. It hadn’t been easy getting to this place in your relationship, and now that you were the constant distance was your biggest obstacle.

You met Aitana years ago through a mutual friend after coming to Barcelona for University. You were studying music and Aitana was just beginning to break into the Barcelona ranks. It was an unconventional friendship in the beginning, but she was focused, hungry, determined, and that’s exactly why you both got on so well, you shared the same level of passion for your dreams. Despite your late night insomnia that kept you up writing until the morning hours while she prioritized her sleep next to you, the bond you created couldn’t be broken.

The beginning of your adulthood was all spent with Aitana. It was always the two of you, for every label rejection and the smallest of injuries where she was convinced her career was over. You cheered the loudest in the stadium when she scored her first Barcelona goal. She was the first call you made when the record deal finally came, and she scrambled to prepare a celebration between her busy schedule. The beach was always the place you two would go together to regroup and escape reality, it made you fall in love with Barcelona, the people, the culture…Aitana.

However, Aitana hadn’t always been yours to love. Time was never your friend in that category. The moment you would get close to playing her the song she’d excitedly tell you about the new person she was seeing that you had no previous knowledge about. You’d go away for a while after the news, a need to explore in order to create your excuse each time. You’d find solace in the arms of another, but they weren’t as warm as Aitana and their smile not as bright. You’d come back convinced that as long as she was treated well and happy that you also were happy.

It was a vicious cycle that went on for years, one of you always accompanied by someone else. You found yourself away from Barcelona for an extended period, at a point that may have been your darkest. Your return only came by way of your first concert in the place that made your career, she promised to be there.

It wasn’t planned, but when you saw her… for the first time in months and amongst a sea of people, as usual she was brightest. You knew it was now or never for you, so in front of 18,000 people you sang to her. After years of friendship and hopeless pining on both sides, you didn’t have to tell her the song was about her, she knew. Your eyes not leaving hers for a single note as you watched the tear fall from her eye when she got the confirmation the song was indeed about her.

Mi luna llena, you sang, the nickname you gave her early in your friendship on one of your late night trips to the beach. A cheesy line about how she reminds you of the full moon because even when it’s dark she was your light. She called you cheesy and shoved you away but not before a deep blush stained her cheeks and that was enough for you to make sure the nickname stuck.

“I’ll be kissing you back in my dreams,” Aitana mumbles into your now damp shirt, referencing a line in the song she now deemed hers, and it certainly was. Her body pressed tightly in yours as you stroke her back to calm her still trembling frame. She leans back searching for your eyes when you remain quiet, and kisses at the silent tears you had let fall. “Lo siento, do not cry.”

You give her your best smile, “I don’t like to see you upset. This is the last one,” you say, trying to give a little hope in the fact that this was the last stretch of the tour.

“Until the next one,” she bluntly says from her place on top of you, scrunching her face in disappointment of something that’s not even close to being a thought let alone a plan. She buries her head into your neck this time, and you feel the fresh tears coating it.

You’re silent for a moment, allowing her words to sink in and giving you a chance to try and think of a reply. “Maybe not,” the announcement grabs all of her attention as her puffy eyes search for yours in the darkness once more. “Maybe I’ll quit music, follow you around everywhere, wear your name on my back and be the perfect little wag.”

It earns you a soft giggle and it feels like a win to you. Aitana connects your lips softly, “sí, that’s perfect. No me dejes más.”

“Even if I leave I will always come back. You are my light Aitana.” You trace the little freckles on her face, watching as the first genuine smile of the night graces her face.

“Say it,” she demands, shaking her body playfully against yours.

“I love you,” you whisper and she stares at you expectantly, wanting to hear the nickname she once called cheesy but now couldn’t live without hearing. “Mi luna llena.”

“I love when you say it,” she grins teasingly. You blush still a bit bashful about the fact you wrote the song about your friend years before confessing your love. "Only think of me when you sing it," she requests.

"I always only think of you," you half shrug like it's the most obvious thing, and to you it is. Aitana consumed your thoughts especially when you were apart.

Aitana chuckles, always amused by your quick affectionate responses. "Te amo mucho, mi vida," she whispers finally as the emotions settle and you both relax in one another's hold. Distance was hard, and there will always be tears before you separate, but you both knew you'd come back together soon enough.

#aitana bonmati #aitana bonmati x reader #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #barca femeni x reader #aitana bonmati imagine

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orcusnoir · 6 months

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"You know what I hate?" The Champion asked to no one in particular as he watched over the slow boiling pot of stew.

"Uh... Not having enough spices?" The Captain asked from his seat at the table.

Wild gave a nod. "Not what I was going for, but yes."

"Then what do you hate, Champ?" Wars asked while glancing over to the Vet. Legend was currently trying to stack his fork and knife on top of each other to no avail.

"How do I put this?" Wild tapped his chin in thought.

"As bluntly as you can." Hyrule chimed in.

"Fair enough. Why are certain clothes locked to certain people? It's fucking cloth." Wild complained with a laugh.

At first Wars was going to chide Wild for the language, but... He just couldn't. Wild had a point here.

"FINALLY!" Wind's loud voice startled Wars a bit as the Sailor had been awfully quiet in his seat. "Tetra and I both hate that stupid shit. What do you mean I can't wear heels? I'm trying to feel tall, and Tetra hates heels, and so somebody has to wear them."

"Tell me about it." Wild started. "Zelda let me try on one of her old royal dresses, don't ask how they survived a hundred years, and somebody had issues with that."

The Captain just laughed. Damn those social rules indeed. Wild in a dress wasn't something he was expecting to hear about today, but it was something that he could picture.

And the Champion would rock that dress.

"Heh, I've been thinking those rules were stupid since I knew they existed. So, since I was nine." Time joined the conversation. "I didn't even know what the big deal was back then."

"I'd ask how, but I'm afraid the answer would be too confusing." Twilight said.

"Oh, not at all, I was raised by forest spirits and a giant tree." The Old Man nonchalantly explained. "They didn't have concepts like "male" and "female." So imagine my confusion."

A claim that he made often but never elaborated on. Everyone, besides the Captain and Wind, thought it was a lie or a ruse.

Warriors just laughed, he couldn't help it.

"Oh little Mask and his insisting that he's a tree." Wars felt everyone's eyes turn to him.

Time laughed loudly. "You made that corporals life hell."

"I did not have time for that guy's bullshit. We are in the middle of a fucking war, if the kid says he's a tree then he's a fucking tree." Wars started to lose his composure from all of his laughing.

"What do you mean by "he's a tree"?" Sky asked while scratching his head.

"Again, I was raised by forest spirits." Time explain. "You lot, besides two, think this a lie. It's not."

"Time, your life profoundly confuses me." Sky said. "So they assigned you a tree?"

Time nodded.

"Instead of anything else?"

Another nod.

"Not like a boy tree? Just a tree?"

Another nod. "Two trees, to be exact. But yes."

"Two trees?"

"Maple and oak, to be exact."

Wars just watch the conversation with a grin. Oh, poor Sky. He must be feeling the same confusion that he and the Sailor had during the war.

"I feel so understood." Rulie said with the widest smile imaginable. "I'm just a Fae." He shrugged as the others turned to face him. "Not the legend kind of Fae. I was raised by Fairies."

"Well, now you can be a Fae tree. How lovely." Time stated with a laugh.

"What kinda tree?"

"Hmmm, you and the Captain both have the same one. Pine, and you can have maple too. As a treat."

"A Fae pine and maple tree. Nice."

"Are we just gonna brush over the fact that Wars already has a tree identity?" Legend asked.

"I do too!" Wind but in. "Take a guess, it's so obvious."

"Uh...Palm tree?" Twilight asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Correct!"

"What tree am I then?" Wild asked while seasoning a few cuts of meat.

"Willow." Time and Warriors both spoke at the same time.

"Damn, that was fast."

"You had this conversation before, hadn't you?" Sky asked while keeping his gaze locked to Wars. "So tell us our trees."

"Oh, alright, I'll try to remember all the specifics. It's been a while." Time laughed while tapping his fingers on the table.

"It all reminds me of the Minish. They have leaves instead of trees, though." Four, who had been quietly observing this whole time, finally spoke up.

"Oh, the Kokiri had leaves too. That's a whole other thing."

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu writing #lu time #lu twilight #lu sky #lu wind #lu wild #lu wars #lu warriors #lu legend #lu hyrule #lu chain #lu headcanons #queers them into oblivion #they might not have the terms but they've got the feelings #look me in the eyes and tell me that Time who was raised by a tree knew what a boy and a girl was #lu fic

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sinkingnotsoslowly · 2 months

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Menace

Pairing: Lee Know x Reader (pronouns not mentioned)

Non-idol au, fluff, very little angst

technically is a part 2 of this fic but could be read as a standalone

DO NOT STEAL MY WORK. REBLOGS AND FEEDBACKS ARE APPRECIATED

“Why aren’t you dating anyone Minho?”

Minho stops devouring his pudding to gawk at you. “I’m not questioning your decision to stay single but why are you really not dating?”, you ask.

“Because you haven’t said yes yet”, he goes back to eating his pudding as if he didn’t just say the most outlandish thing.

“Yes to what?”

Minho rolls his eyes in feigned annoyance, “Yes to me asking you to date me, duh”

“Ugh be serious Minho”, you huff.

“What makes you think I’m not serious (yn)?” he looks at you with something in his eyes that you can’t decipher. “I think I should head back now, my break ended ten minutes ago”, with that gets up and walks out of the café.

This was two weeks ago and it still hasn’t left your mind. It is not unlike Minho to randomly ask you out on a date but you never take him seriously. He always jokes about how you two should just marry each other if you were still single at thirty. But that day at the café he did not seem like he was joking about you dating him. Did you hit a nerve by asking him that? But if he was indeed upset, he would tell you about it, you guys always talked things out if either of you were upset. He has been behaving perfectly normally since then.

“I ate pudding today”, you waited for him to continue but only silence followed. “Minho you called me in the middle of the day to say that you ate pudding?”, you asked. “Yeah, and it was so delicious. Buy me more when you come over. Anyways I got to go, bye”, the call ended. Yep, very Minho-like.

You met Minho at a college party and then proceeded to make out with him only stopping when you accidentally moaned your best friend’s name instead. But he never held it against you. You eventually opened up to him enough to tell him that you were in love with your best friend. The said best friend was getting married in a month. And you would be there, as a guest of course. To your surprise you weren’t exactly heartbroken when Seungmin called you, gasping for breath like he had run a marathon. You could almost hear him grinning his puppy grin, “She said yes”.

Just because you were not heartbroken did not mean you were not sad. After all, there were years of pining, wishing that one day he would finally realise that the love of his life was always in front of him. That did not happen. You guys graduated, you got a job, he went for higher studies and found someone there. That night Minho came over with beer and let you ugly sob on his shoulder. Since college, he has always been there with you, your graduation, your first job, bad dates, going out for drinks on Friday nights and talking shit about your bosses. You thought he was good for you; a great friend.

“I’m going on a date tomorrow”, Minho said while setting up his laptop for the movie. It was your weekly movie night at his place, “Thought I should try getting out there”. He was still looking at the laptop avoiding your eyes. For some reason, you felt a pang in your chest. “Is this because of what I said? Minho I didn’t mean to upset you-”

“You didn’t upset me (yn). I’ve just been thinking of settling down”, he started the movie without further explanation. You wanted to press him on but you thought better of it.

You couldn’t concentrate on the movie. Throughout it, you kept thinking about what Minho said. You couldn’t blame him for wanting to settle down but you kept feeling uncomfortable with the image of Minho dating someone and then marrying her.

Minho has always been a menace but he became a little more annoying the next week. He always has this look on his face like he knows something you don’t and it has been eating at your brain. Midweek your composure breaks and you snap, “Ok what is it? Why do you look like you are up to no good?” At that Minho looks at you like you just sprouted two heads, “I don’t know what you’re talking about”

“Oh you know what I’m talking about Minho”

Minho keeps looking at you like a cat who did not just knock off the flower vase, and then he blinked like a lightbulb went off in his head, “Ah right! Come over on Saturday I need help to pick out what I’ll wear for the date.”

The date. Right. He was just excited for the date. You felt your spirits dropping. Maybe in no time, you’ll be attending Minho’s wedding too, as a guest. Wait what? Why would you think that? How else would you want to attend a friend’s wedding if not as a guest?

Oh.

OH.

Oh no.

You stood up abruptly almost knocking over your half-drunk coffee on the table, “I-I have to go, I haven’t even started the new project yet”. Without sparing Minho another glance you grabbed your bag to just get away from him as fast as possible.

“Huh? That was sudden. Well don’t forget about Saturday.”

You faked a smile towards him, “Yes, yes, Saturday, I’ll be there.”

Saturday came faster than you could blink. And it seemed like the universe had a personal vendetta against you this week. Missed deadlines, unnecessary hourlong meetings, spilt coffee, missing the bus- you name it. At this point, only a year-long vacation could give some mental peace. And on top of that, you couldn’t stop thinking about Minho. You didn’t see each other again after that one day when you barely escaped humiliating yourself.

“Should I wear the blue button-down or the black one?”

“Black”

“Hmm, ok blue it is” menace.

“Why am I here Minho? Not like you are listening to me”, you were sitting on his bed munching on the last of honey butter chips Minho had stocked up. You spent the whole day buried in the blanket, wallowing in self-pity, and almost didn’t show up today. You even contemplated going back home while standing in front of Minho’s house. God knows what you were still doing there sitting in Minho’s bedroom while he dressed up for his date.

Minho looked at you through the mirror, scoffing, “For moral support of course”. He went back to styling his hair without another word.

“Well then if am done providing moral support to your honour, I’ll be taking my leave”, it was time for you to go back to the safety of your blankets and cry yourself to sleep since you did not seem fated to have requited love in this life. The only option left was arranged marriage.

Before you could leave Minho’s room you were stopped. “W-wait, don’t you have anything to tell me?” Minho asked. You turned around, brain going into overdrive. Why would he say that? Does he know about my feelings? Is he teasing me? Oh God please no. But what if-

“Like- are you okay with this? Me going on a date?” Ah, so he was just worried. How sweet. “Of course, I’m okay Minho. Why wouldn’t I be? This is completely your decision; you deserve to be happy-”

“Oh my god, you’re so dumb (yn). Why can’t you just say it? Why can’t you just ask me not to go? Why can’t you tell me that you like me?” Minho paused, taking a breath to calm down, “I like you (yn). And I know you like me. There is no other girl. But I do have a reservation for dinner if you’re up for it”.

It would be an understatement to say that you were dumfounded. You had thought of many scenarios while laying awake in bed but not this. “Why didn’t you just confront me if you knew that I liked you?”, you asked, fiddling with the hem of your shirt which looked very interesting suddenly. Minho sighed, “I wasn’t sure at first. So I wanted to see your reaction by saying that I have a date. And it seemed like you weren’t sure about your feelings either. So are you up for it?”

“Huh?”

“The date. Do want to go on this date? Look I understand if you are pissed, and it’s fine if you say no-”

“Just drive me to my place so I can dress up atleast. You’re such a menace Lee Minho”

Minho grinned like a cat, “Yeah but now it’s too late to get rid off me. So this menace is now your responsibility”.

So you were fated to have requited love it seems.

masterlist

Autumn's sighs- little soft thoughts about our favourite boys

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moraxsthrone · 1 year

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✧:･.☽ ･ﾟ TITLE — something precious in return

✧:･.☽ ･ﾟ PAIRING — d. ragnvindr x f!reader

✧:･.☽ ･ﾟ WC — 5.7k

✧:･.☽ ･ﾟ WARNINGS/NOTES — nsfw. mdni. virgin!diluc. virgin!reader. mutual pining. childhood friends to lovers. light angst to comfort to smut to fluff. outdoor sex at night. flashbacks in italics. SLOW BURN, just how diluc likes it. from his very first time, he's always been such a naturally passionate lover.

here on your stargazing hill, the night breeze is colder than you had anticipated when you opted to bring the thin blanket upon which you presently sit. you’d worn long sleeves, but hadn’t accounted for how much cooler the air would feel against your face once the tears began to flow.

normally you’d be at angel’s share right about now, sitting at the bar and shooting the shit with your best friend while he works. but under the current circumstances, diluc’s presence would only serve to drive the knife deeper: a cruel reminder of the love you could have had if only he returned your affection. then perhaps you wouldn’t be sitting here all alone, holding the broken shards of your heart in your hands because you never even would’ve looked twice at the other guy. instead, now it’s doubly broken - first by the guy who just broke up with you, then by the knowledge that the one you really want - your first choice - would always be just out of reach. you almost resent diluc because he has no idea that every time he smiles at you, your heart skips a beat even as it bleeds for him.

you shiver and pull your knees in close to your chest, arms hugging your legs as you look out at the stars.

“you’ll catch your death sitting out here like this.”

you squeak and nearly jump out of your skin before putting your hand over your heart and breathing a sigh of relief.

“you scared the shit out of me, luc!” you chide as he snickers and drapes his coat over your shoulders. you playfully slap his arm as he sits down beside you. “it’s not funny! don’t sneak up on me like that!”

you quickly wipe your cheeks with the back of your hand, turning his smile upside down as his eyebrows knit. you were hoping he wouldn’t notice you’d been crying, but it’s diluc. he notices things. especially when it comes to you.

“what’s wrong, y/n?”

his body heat feels nice, his warmth enveloping you as you pull his coat tighter around yourself. “shouldn’t you be at the tavern?” you scoff, wishing he would just go away but scooting over to give him more room in spite of yourself. this would all be so much easier if he didn’t care about you so much.

“not when my friend doesn’t show up there on a friday night.” a new hairline crack snakes through your heart at the word ‘friend’. “i haven’t seen hair nor hide of you all week. now, talk to me. why are you crying? do i need to go kick someone’s ass?”

you fight the smile that threatens to betray you, and he notices…of course.

“i feel passed over, luc,” you mutter, looking down at your hands, “like i’ll only ever be second best. i want to be someone’s first choice, every time. forever, not just for a few months.”

your words tug at his heart. if you only knew. “so would it be safe to assume things didn’t work out between you and what’s-his-name?”

you chuckle. even though you dated “what’s-his-name” for almost a year, diluc has always “forgotten” his name no matter how many times you’ve reminded him. clearly he's never thought much of the guy. and for good reason, it turns out.

“seeing as how he dumped me for another girl, your assumption would be safe indeed,” you answer, choking on your last word as fresh tears begin to well up.

“hey now,” diluc says softly, pulling you in, “come here.”

leaning into him, you lay your head against his chest where his voice sounds so much closer, deeper. balling his shirt in your fist, you tuck your head under his chin just like you’ve done since you were both little, and you cry.

outside of family, diluc has always been your most reliable source of comfort. generally speaking, he’s never really been the most affectionate person. but when it comes to you he’s made a lot of exceptions. since his father died last year, not many people get to see diluc’s smile or hear his laugh, but you do. the two of you have pretty much been inseparable since you were 7 and he was 8.

you'd gotten stuck in a tree after climbing it, too scared to climb back down. you sat there and cried for about half an hour when another little girl with long, bright red hair and pretty, big carmine eyes came along and helped you down. you had a couple of scrapes on your knees and elbows and were too shaken up to walk home. so your new friend carried you on her back.

you’ll never forget the way her thick hair tickled your face and made you giggle every time there was a breeze. it was only when you got back home and introduced your new friend to your mom as “she” that diluc’s face turned a shade that rivaled the color of his hair and he said, a little indignantly you might add, “he! i’m a boy!”

to this day you still tease him about what a pretty girl he could pass for, albeit one with a very deep voice. he does not find it funny.

however, at the present moment, neither of you are laughing. with his strong arms wrapped around you, you hear his heartbeat quicken.

“i happen to have it on good authority that you are someone’s first choice.”

“you do? i am?” you sniff and look up at him, your watery eyes following the strong line of his jaw as he trains his gaze on the starry canopy above.

his affirmative hum vibrates against your ear, which is still pressed to his chest. why is his heart beating so fast?

with your curiosity piqued, you lift your head. “who?”

“not telling.”

“how mature.”

a breathy laugh escapes his scrunched-up nose as he looks down at you again. “shut up.”

“c’mon, luc, at least give me a hint! is it someone i know?”

“yes.”

“really?” diluc’s hold on you loosens when you straighten up again. “is it someone i know from the tavern or the winery?”

“both.”

that doesn’t narrow it down much. “is it a guy or a girl?” you press.

“definitely a guy,” he says pointedly.

“what color is his hair?”

“i’ll only answer yes or no questions…”

“why can’t you just tell me?”

“because i’m not so sure he wants you to know.”

you scoff. “that’s stupid. why wouldn’t he want me to know?”

“maybe he’s afraid you won’t want to be friends with him anym-” shit, he thinks, too far. the brief flash of panic in his eyes isn’t lost on you. “in any case,” he says, clearing his throat, “you’re nursing a broken heart so it’s too soon to-”

“diluc,” you interrupt him. “is it you?”

he scoffs, eyebrows knitting. “pfssh…no!” he instantly turns away from you lest you see the blush that he can feel rushing to his face.

“aww, luc! you’re blushing!” you tease, leaning around him to try and see his face. you believed him when he said it’s not him (thinking otherwise would’ve been wishful indeed), but tormenting him a little because of how cute it is that he gets so easily flustered. giggling, you bring a hand to his jaw in an effort to turn his face towards you again. “you’re totally blushing, i can see how red your face-“

before you can finish your taunt, your senses are suddenly filled with diluc ragnvindr. his bottom lip is pressed between yours as he kisses you, the scent of wine-stained oak barrels filling your nostrils. you’re so stunned that you forget to kiss him back and he pulls away, unable to make eye contact.

“fuck,” he mutters under his breath, moving to get up and leave to avoid making things any worse, but you grab his hand. he stops, but doesn’t turn around. he’s still too embarrassed to face you.

“how long?” your voice is soft, almost a whisper, afraid if you speak too loudly you’ll wake up to find this has all been a dream.

“since that night in the water…”

archons, that long? you were barely teenagers that summer.

you’d snuck out of your respective homes to go night swimming. you met at the beach south of dawn winery, near the waterfall, before removing all but your swimwear that you’d each worn under your clothes.

you both stood on one of the boulders and agreed to jump in on the count of three, but when the moment of truth came you chickened out, letting diluc jump in by himself. when he surfaced you were still standing on the rock, looking down and laughing at him. he swam to the shore and by the time you realized what he was doing, it was too late. he was coming right for you but the only escape was jumping into the water.

you put your hands out, still giggling. “n-no! diluc, no don’t do it!”

a dark grin spread across his face as he grabbed your bare waist. you screamed as he tossed you into the water before jumping in behind you.

you surfaced and as soon as you could touch the bottom you pushed your wet hair out of your face and turned towards the laughing boy. you called him a few choice names while splashing water towards his face, but he just ended up tackling you. you’re still not sure how it happened, but you found yourself in waist-deep water, still laughing with diluc’s hands perched on your hips to steady you when he suddenly leaned down and kissed you.

the feeling of lips - his lips - pressed against your own made you feel like you were floating even as your toes curled into the sediment beneath them. you were both inexperienced, neither of you having kissed anyone before. it only lasted a few seconds, but to the two of you it felt like forever, each rapid beat of your hearts lasting lifetimes. but when you placed your palm flat against his bare chest, diluc pulled away and trudged out of the water.

you watched him, confused and still in shock by what just happened. with his back turned to you, he started getting dressed.

you were still anchored in the water, suddenly feeling cold. “luc?”

he balled his hair into his fists to wring the excess water out before looking back at you, but only with a glance. “i uh- i have to go.”

“diluc, what-”

“just…get dressed and let’s go.” he sounded angry. “i’m not leaving you out here alone. it's too dangerous.”

you frowned, hugging yourself as you walked out of the water. your head was swimming, reeling as you slowly made your way towards your own pile of clothes.

he walked you home that night and neither of you have spoken a word of it since.

until now.

“i thought you hated it,” you say, collecting the excess length of his coat sleeves in your fidgeting hands.

“i didn’t hate it!” he corrects you a little too quickly, then lowers his voice. “i…i liked it.”

“then why the hell did you act so weird about it and want to leave?”

he averts his eyes, but doesn’t say anything.

“diluc, why?” you plead, new tears - different tears - pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“i…” he knows the question has been burning at the back of your mind for years. an explanation is long overdue. he lowers his gaze from the stars overhead and mumbles something that you can’t quite understand.

“i didn’t hear you.”

“i got hard,” he repeats.

“you-” did you just hear him correctly? “you got hard?”

he has mixed feelings about hearing you say those words. it’s embarrassing, but also…it sounds sexy when you say it.

“so you’ve been breaking my heart for the past 5 years because you popped a boner?”

his eyes shift to yours before quickly looking away again. “i’m sorry.”

“you’re sorry?” you ask incredulously. “diluc, do you have any idea how confused i was? that was my first kiss and i’ve always wanted to cherish it, but you robbed me of that! you took something so precious to me and turned it into something shameful! all because your dick got hard?”

“i didn’t want you to see it, or worse, feel it. we- our bodies were so close. i didn’t want you to think i was a creep.” his apologetic eyes meet yours. “i didn’t mean to hurt you.”

you hazard a glance at his lap, but his leg is bent such that it makes it impossible to tell. “are you hard now?” your voice is quieter, conveying genuine curiosity.

his eyes snap to yours. “no!” do you really think a peck on the lips is enough to arouse him? “it was just a quick kiss…tch!”

“don’t act so offended! that’s all it took back then!”

“i was 14 for fuck’s sake!”

thing is though, you want to make him hard again. the thought that you’d had that effect on him back then - with just a simple kiss - sends a pang of desire coursing through your core. you get to your knees and inch closer to his side, diluc’s crimson eyes following your every move. putting your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself, you lean in and place the softest kiss on his parted lips.

he doesn’t even feel like he deserves to kiss you again. aren’t you mad at him? why would you reward him with such a sweet gift after what he’d put you through?

you pull back just enough to look at him and whisper, “kiss me, diluc. like you mean it this time.”

he tilts his head, slotting his lips with yours once again as you both close your eyes. your mouths begin to move and diluc’s hand comes to rest on the back of your neck, his warm thumb ghosting over your ear.

your mouths open, breathing each other’s air before slowly sealing your lips together again. you drag your thumbs down the sides of his neck as he cranes it to get closer, kissing you a bit harder. as if reading each other’s desires, the tips of your tongues brush together the next time your lips part and pretty soon they’re swirling in a slow, sensual dance.

diluc’s hands drift down to your waist, pulling you closer to straddle his lap. you settle down, the tiniest of whines leaving your mouth when you feel his semi-hard bulge press into the back of your thigh. your kisses grow increasingly passionate by the second as though trying to make up for lost time.

changing the tilt of his head to deepen the kiss, diluc wraps you into his arms completely. this time, there is no sign of him backing out. his confidence is sexy, his tongue intoxicating. your hands are in his hair where they’ve wanted to be for so long. he grips your back and pulls you flush against him. you roll your hips against him, making him moan in your mouth as you feel his building erection jump against the back of your thigh.

diluc huffs and you find yourself on your back, legs still straddling his hips. your tongues push over and around each other, quickened breaths mixing together when he reaches down momentarily and adjusts himself. in this position his cock is now pressing firmly against your moistening center, making you keenly aware of how close your bodies are, how ready you are for one another.

the sweet, breathy mewl diluc pulls from you when he grinds his clothed erection against your clit goes straight to his dick, making it throb for you in his pants. he ruts again, slowly, willing you to feel him, no longer shy and too far gone to pretend he isn’t aroused. he wants you to know he’s hard for you; needs you to know how badly he’s wanted you and for how long. you have no idea how many times he has whispered your name while lying in his own bed, eyes closed with his hands in his boxers wishing they were yours. more than that, though, he needs you to know how much he cares for you.

diluc ragnvindr has never been a man of many words. but perhaps now, here on this grassy knoll, with your hands in his hair, his lip between your teeth, your hearts pressed together and pounding for one another - diluc can finally show you all the things he’s wanted to say.

one of his hands wanders the length of your waist, gripping your side as he massages his way down to your hip. he squeezes you there, making you sigh and roll your hips up to meet his when his thumb presses into the crease of your leg. you’re both panting into your open-mouthed kiss, lips red and swollen, impatiently trying to get closer and closer as though you can will your clothing out of the way.

but you’re too needy to wait until the fabric barriers can be worn down with time, so you take matters into your own shaky hands and start unbuttoning the collar of diluc’s shirt. with a grunt, he lifts himself up to help things along, quickly removing his shirt before reaching down to help you out of yours. you’re already working your bra off as your eyes traverse the expanse of his naked chest and sculpted abs.

his skin is pale and smooth save for the dips between his muscles and the thin line of red hair beneath his navel. diluc’s fiery mane is draped over his broad shoulders, tickling your chest when he presses his naked torso to yours and recaptures your lips with his. he’s burning up, his blushing skin so very hot to the touch that you almost flinch. his scorching hand massages its way to your breast, squeezing and kneading it gently while he dips down to take the other into the wet heat of his mouth. you gasp, eyes rolling back as you arch your back off the relatively cool lining of his coat, pushing your chest into his touch. your hands are exploring his back, dragging the impressions of your fingertips across his pale skin, digging and pulling at him as if he could get any closer.

blazing a trail of wet kisses along your neck, diluc’s lips find yours once again only to release a quiet moan inside your mouth when your fingers slide inside the front of his pants. he lifts his hips slightly, encouraging your exploration of his body, shivering as your digits thread through his coarse patch of hair before spreading around the wide base of his hard cock. you wrap your fingers around him, sighing at the feeling of his heavy girth in your hand; his hot, velvety skin sliding over the rock hard length of his shaft as you slowly stroke him.

diluc hums, eyes screwing shut as he presses his forehead to yours, mind buzzing at the sensation of your soft hand pumping him. you work your way closer to his tip, pussy clenching at his deep groan when the edge of his glans catches on the opening of your grip. inside his underwear, you can feel the cool slick of his precum against your knuckles as more begins to coat the inside of your fist. diluc swears under his breath, moving his hips more quickly, unable to resist the sheer pleasure of your tight grip around his slippery cockhead.

“mm-y/n,” he whispers, burying his face against your neck. “hhhh shit…”

a few hurried thrusts later, you feel the rhythmic twitching of his cock and with a low, extended groan, diluc covers your hand with his warm release. you slow your pace but keep your fist tight, milking the last of his orgasm from his cock as his hot breaths come hard and fast against your neck.

when he’s fully spent, he jolts out of your grip and huffs out a small laugh, indicating his sensitivity. you slowly pull your hand from his pants, leaving a trail of his cum along his stomach but neither of you care.

“that was really hot,” you muse with a small smile.

nuzzling your ear, he mumbles, “can i touch you?”

your eyes slide closed, sighing. “i really want you to, yes.”

diluc leaves a couple of kisses on the corner of your mouth before raising up onto his knees. his chest rises and falls, still catching his breath as he unfastens your pants. you lift your hips to aid him when he curls his fingers around your waistband and works your bottoms down the curve of your ass and hips before ridding you of them entirely.

you watch as he unbuckles his belt and removes the rest of his own clothing, biting your lip when his half-hard cock bounces out of his cum-stained underwear. he looks down at you, lips parted as his lust-blown vermillion eyes take in every inch of your naked form. feeling vulnerable and self-conscious, you close your legs and fold your arms over your breasts.

“s-stop staring, diluc,” you mutter, looking away with a bashful smile. “you’re embarrassing me.”

you feel his hands on your closed thighs, not pulling them apart but caressing them in an effort to make you feel less uncomfortable.

“i’m sorry, it’s just-” he begins to stumble on his words but presses on, “...the way you’re glowing in the moonlight. you look like a goddess.” he leans down, letting his lips ghost over your skin as he whispers, “please don’t hide yourself; you’re lovely.”

there’s no fighting the smile that spreads across your face at his words. you willingly open your legs and arms, pulling him close for a kiss. propping himself on his forearm, his other hand touches you, roaming your naked body, claiming every peak and valley, conquering you with his hands inch by scorching inch.

he feels you tremble beneath him as the backs of his fingers rake along your inner thigh. you gasp, interrupting your lazy kissing when the pad of diluc’s thumb grazes your clit. he slides his digit down between your folds before returning to your tiny, engorged tip. he repeats the process a few more times, spreading your slick along your pink slit while driving you out of your mind.

he’s dragging the tip of his thumb in little circles over your clit now, swallowing your whines, his full erection returning as you buck your hips for him. with his thumb still on your clit, he presses the tip of his middle finger against your opening, slowly pushing it in a little before withdrawing, back and forth until he’s knuckle deep inside your slippery heat. you’re gripping his biceps, hanging on for dear life while he drinks your moans and sighs, tasting the sounds of your pleasure on his tongue like a fine wine.

“hhhhnn~ luc…”

he moves to your ear as he works a second finger inside you, a pleased hum escaping him when he hears his name, laced with lust and desire, pour from your lips. there’s a deep ache building inside your lower belly that you’ve never felt before. diluc presses deeper inside you, reveling in the sensation of your slick walls clenching around his fingers. it feels like you’re chasing something but you need more. his fingers are providing a delicious stretch, but it’s just not quite enough.

“diluc, please…” you whisper breathlessly, “...put it in.” he raises his head from your collarbone and meets your lust-filled gaze. “need you, luc. want you inside me~”

“you mean…” if you weren’t so drunk on desire, you’d laugh at the almost comical look on his face when he raises his eyebrows. “...my cock?”

you cup his cheeks in your palms and hum affirmatively with a breathy ‘yes’. “i want you…want you to be my first.”

“wait, you’re still…?”

you nod. “i’ve always wanted you to be my first everything.”

his heart blooms, swelling against his ribcage at your confession. with a furrowed brow, he kisses you. “i’ve always wanted the same; you’ll be my first too.” he slowly pulls his fingers out of you and squares his hips with yours, nestling his readied cock between your slick folds. “i’m sorry it took me so long to-”

you bring your fingers to his lips, shushing him. “better late than never,” you tell him with a reassuring smile as you press your lips to his again. your breath stutters when the head of his cock nudges your clit. “claim me, diluc.”

he deepens the kiss with a sigh, his cock leaking to mix with your need, getting slicker with every languid roll of his hips. he reaches between your bodies, his eyes darting to yours, watching for the slightest hint of discomfort or change of mind as he pushes his pink, drooling tip to your opening and begins to push inside you.

you both moan, fingertips curling into one another’s flesh as your tight ring stretches around his thick, virgin cockhead before finally surrendering with a soft pop.

in all his fantasies of this moment, nothing could’ve prepared diluc for the intoxicating texture and heat of your cunt as it spreads around him. “so…” he sucks air between his teeth at your relentless clenching, “...tight.”

meanwhile, you’ve never felt such overwhelming pressure and fullness as his cock invades your virgin pussy. you hold your breath as the young, inexperienced male pushes deeper inside you, digging your nails into the skin of his back. the stretch is too much, too fast.

he halts all movement, crimson eyes widening when he hears the muffled whimper in your throat. “shit. are you okay? does it hurt?”

you wince, trying to soldier through the pain. you’ve heard that if it hurts you have to take deep breaths and try to relax; tensing only makes it worse. “a- a little.”

“maybe we should stop,” he says as he begins to pull out.

“no!” you blurt, hooking your ankles behind diluc’s thighs to impede his withdrawal. “no,” you repeat, more quietly this time, collecting yourself. “just…be still for a moment and i think i’ll be okay.”

“you want me to keep it in?” he’s watching you like a hawk for your reactions. the last thing in the world he wants to do is hurt you.

your eyes slide closed and nod, the pain already starting to give way to a dull, tolerable pressure. diluc waits, holding himself still as he kisses your face, his soft lips grazing your eyelids while he threads his fingers through your hair. your death grip on the flesh of his back subsides as you inwardly remind yourself to breathe. even when you move your hips a little, diluc keeps still, putting your comfort and pleasure ahead of his own feral urges, content to let you guide his pace.

little by little, you work yourself further down his thick length until your clit rubs against the red thatch of hair around his base. the added stimulation sends a surge of pleasure through your core, that new ache returning, making you ready and craving just a little more.

you kiss behind diluc’s jaw, just beneath his ear before murmuring to him, “make love to me, diluc.”

and so, on a cool blanket under the stars and moon, not too far from the vineyard with only the crystalflies to bear witness, you and diluc take something from each other while giving something far more precious in return.

diluc’s hips undulate, rocking back and forth, his butt muscles flexing with each forward thrust. the crimson hair at the base of his dick is shiny with your slick as it rubs your swollen clit. your toes curl, heels digging into his thighs like a jockey spurring on her steed to go faster, faster.

“more- nnhhm- more…”

he’s on his forearms, cradling your back, his hands framing your ears when he opens his eyes to look at you from above. “you sure?”

“please, yes, i need it…” your back arches, eyes closing when you feel your core squeeze him and you’re chasing that unknown something again. “need you to fuck me harder, luc.”

your lover's eyes widen momentarily at your direct, wanton words. he finds it incredibly sexy and briefly wonders how else your mouth might surprise him. he’s pumping his cock into you a little faster now, his hand cradling the back of your neck, the pad of his thumb ghosting along your jawline.

“i need you to tell me if i go too far…”

you nod, and he raises up onto his hands, caging you beneath him to give himself more leverage as he begins to thrust into you faster still. your moans and whimpers travel straight down his spine, urging him to go harder until you can hear the wet claps of skin, sloppy and lewd.

“gods, y/n…” diluc grunts, feeling that familiar coil winding dangerously tight at the base of his spine, searing and ready to snap. “i think i’m going to…” he swears through his moan as his balls tighten.

as new lovers tend to do, he slips out of you unintentionally, his hot seed spurting in long threads over your belly. he’s still rocking his hips, dragging his jerking cock between your folds, smearing his cum along your pussy lips as more of it spills out. he’s sighing, trying so hard to be quiet, but as the last of his sperm dribbles out of his cockhead it catches and slides back inside you. he lets out an open-mouthed groan as your tight heat sucks his sensitive, cum-coated tip back in.

but he doesn’t stop.

his eyes are screwed shut, gritting his teeth to fight the overstim because your warm cunt just feels so damn good, his dick doesn’t soften in the slightest.

you’re keening for him, making his toes curl with how sweet you sound for him, his name passing your lips in broken whimpers. diluc’s inhibitions are almost entirely gone at this point. he’s fucking into you with abandon, sloppy because it’s his first time. threads of his cum connect your bellies, joining you, hot and sticky. traces of it have mixed with your slick, making his thick cock nice and slippery as it drags and pulls at your tightening walls.

that something has been building low, so low in your belly. an ache so dull and so deep, a pressure you’ve never felt before. your squelching walls have been closing in with every delectable tug of diluc’s fat cock.

“ohh…hhnn~diluc?” you keen.

“yeah?” he pants, still thrusting, addicted to the soft, velvety slick of your pussy sucking him in harder.

“h-harder…just a little harder…”

he wants to get on his knees, push your thighs back, and fuck you properly, but this time is special and he would rather stay close to you, even through his haze of wanton lust and unbridled passion. so instead, he bends his knees out beside you, panting with the occasional grunt against the pulsing artery in your neck as he presses hard against your cervix with every pump of his cock.

“gods, y/n,” he whispers, “you feel so…so good.”

he shifts, angling the curve of his cock just right against a spot deep inside you that you didn’t even know existed until now. the last thing you remember is watching the rich boy’s lean abs flexing, sweat dripping down his sides as he humps his slick shaft in and out, in and out, in and out. he drives you right up to a terrible height until you feel...

weightless.

you’re hanging in the air just before the freefall when a sharp heat courses out from your center to the very ends of your nerves at lightspeed. you barely hear yourself cry out for him as your walls convulse and spasm around his length. he watches, wide-eyed as he fucks you through your first orgasm, slow and deep with full, passionate thrusts. the sound of his name falling desperately from your lips, the sounds of all your shared fluids - sweat, slick, cum, tears - they go right to his head as his hips keep right on snapping into yours.

“gonna~ mmnnhh~ make me cum again~” a strangled groan escapes diluc’s open lips.

shame you’ll never get to see just how tightly his little asshole winks while his cock jerks his cum inside your pussy for the very first time, painting your walls creamy white. his thick seed leaks from your tight opening as you continue to glide on his cock from below. you kiss him, his quick breaths catching in his throat as he rides out his orgasm.

your lips graze as you both come down from your respective highs together, noses nudging between lazy kisses. diluc rolls off of you, some of his warm seed oozing out of you when his softening dick slips out. he rests his hand above your hip and pulls you to him until the side of your face is pressed against his warm chest, his heart still thumping at a fast pace. you place tender butterfly kisses against his flushed skin as he presses his lips to the top of your head. you lie there together, basking in the long-desired feeling of being in each other’s arms, two sweaty bodies shimmering in the moonlight as you mindlessly trace your names on the other’s back until diluc feels you shiver.

“come on,” he says, sitting up. “let’s get dressed and go back to my place for a hot bath.”

slipping your shirt on, you hesitate. “but…adelinde and the others…they’ll know.”

zipping his pants before shoving his soiled boxers into his pocket, he says, “they already know. they’ve been hounding me about us for years.”

you look up at him, a wide grin gracing your features. “'us'? really?”

he simply nods with a smirk, holding his coat open as you slip it on again. it’s heavy, but the weight is comforting and familiar, protective like armor. “i think nothing would make them happier.”

you help him fold your blanket before wrapping your arms around his waist. “will you carry me on your back?” you ask, standing on your tiptoes to punctuate your request with a kiss.

“of course,” he chuckles softly, kissing you back before turning around and crouching. “hop on.”

with your legs hooked over his arms, he carries you back to the winery. you prop your chin on his shoulder, catching your scent on him and giggling every time his hair tickles your face in the breeze.

✧:･.☽ ･ﾟ diluc m.list

✧:･.☽ ･ﾟ happy birthday to diluc! it's after midnight where i am, but it's still his bday somewhere! please consider reblogging if you enjoyed reading this. thank you, loves! 💋

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lokisgoodgirl · 6 months

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Home Truths: The Lakes [Loki x Reader]

The Lakes Masterlist / Regular Masterlist Summary: (4) Loki is given a shake, and the four of you hit up the local supermarket. Warnings: Minors DNI. Ex-Loki. Major Satchelage. Humour. Brotherly/ Domestic fluff. Smut references. Mild angst. Pining. (w/c 4.5k) Recommended Folklore Track: Hoax

The rain hadn’t stopped. You’d spent the next few hours limping between rooms, keeping busy, stealing glances out the droplet-streaked windows where you could.

Where was he?

The kiss had lingered on your lips. The taste of Loki absorbing into cracks of delicate skin like water in thirsty soil. Nobody knew where the god had disappeared to in the early hours, allegedly.

What's more, they didn't seem surprised.

It had been another two hours before Loki returned holding a string of thoroughly deceased rabbits.

He stalked through the front door, turning abruptly into the kitchen and lowering them to the dining table with a macabre series of thumps.

“Holy Moses-” Steve scoffed disapprovingly, folding his arms.

The kettle began to whistle on the stove as Loki paraded to the cupboard. He pulled out a mug sporting a large yellow bear with an eyepatch.

“I saw no reason why our ‘education’ need be stifled by a mild weather-tantrum” he drawled, gesturing to the window before plucking a teabag from the tin. He glanced back to you as you leant against the kitchen doorframe. His eyes narrowed. There was no hint there of what had passed between you only hours before. It made you sad. But not surprised. “Don’t you agree, Agent?” he purred. Thor emerged by your shoulder.

“What the-?” his eyes fell on the limp pile of fur adorning the plastic tablecloth; gasping sharply. “Hodorekorn, brother?” His excitement was electric. Loki shook his head. “Alas, no brother. Rabbits. But much the same to ensnare.” The god tilted his head as he poured from the kettle, throwing Steve a wink. “See, Rogers?” he smirked. “I am not completely useless.”

Thor’s arm stretched above your head, pressing his hand against the frame. “It took you four hours to capture five hodorekorn?” He chuckled wrly. “Rusty indeed, brother.” “Rabbits.” Loki corrected, stirring his tea.

Steve swallowed, eyeing the bundle. “What are we supposed to do with ‘em?” he said, regretting the words as soon as they were spoken. “Skin them, and cook them of course!” Thor’s boom filled the tiny kitchen.

Steve gagged.

You couldn’t stop the smile that spread. Loki’s eyes met yours, giving the smallest nod. “Yeah, we can do that” you said, “good thinking Thor. Steve? How about you take the first one? Dealer’s choice.”

Steve clapped a hand to his mouth, pushing Thor into you in a hasty sprint to the bathroom. Dry wretches followed as the three remaining Avengers descended into laughter.

Tears streamed down Thor’s face while you doubled over, clinging to his forearm. Even Loki’s demure overtures of mirth rumbled across the linoleum, although you were certain that it was the sight of you and his brother that was the cause rather than the captain’s overdramatic heaves. Just like the old days, you thought with a pang. Thor wiped his face, catching his breath while there was a pause in the theatrics from the bathroom. For a moment, silence. And then... ‘Heuuuuuurgh-’

You and Thor looked at each other with simultaneous disbelief, the following whoop of laughter utterly uncontrollable. Loki took a sip of tea before placing it down, walking silently to the table. He tilted the chin of a rabbit towards him, frowning.

“We really should skin these brother,” he said sharply, “they will lose succulence otherwise.” You looked up through misty eyes, the release making you forget everything else. Loki had bristled, his mood altered somehow. Thor caught his breath beside you, panting heavily. “I- I can show you how,” you gasped as you wiped a trail from your eyes. Loki waved a dismissive hand. “No need. My brother and I are not quite as incapable as Rogers would have you believe.” Thor’s brow furrowed, shaking his head lightly in your direction. Don’t mind him, it said. “Outside or inside?” you asked, reaching for your jacket on the hall hook. It was still wet. “Outside,” Loki said with finality. His eyes flew to your hand, resting on the anorak. “Your presence is not required, Agent. My brother and I are perfectly capable, as I said.” He shot a piercing glance to Thor. The blonde swallowed.

“Uhhh...yes. Indeed, yes – brother, lead the way.” Loki breezed between you, stooping gently at the door-frame as a slick waxed Barbour unfurled over his lithe body. It hung to his thighs, the taut curve of his muscled ass shifting. The ghost of his knuckles grazed your palm as he passed. Accidentally, you were sure.

Thor lingered by the coat-hooks, shoving an arm brutishly through the sleeve of a particularly beaten-looking yellow raincoat. The material creaked menacingly as he hoisted it up his biceps.

There’s no way that is zipping closing, you thought – half watching the outline of Loki pacing towards the small hut at the edge of the cottage boundary.

Thor threw a look over his shoulder, checking Loki was out of earshot. He tugged the sides of the raincoat down. The edges lined perfectly with his nipples. Rain fell vertically outside the open door, a gush from the awning gutter pooling around the doorstep.

“He probably wishes to recount his version of what happened last night,” Thor said in hushed tones. Hushed for him, anyway. “What do you-” Thor waved a hand, eyes closed to your protestation. “Sister, please – the neighbours over yonder valley likely heard the commotion my brother’s intransigence provoked. Rogers and I heard everything.” The strap of your backpack hanging on the rack suddenly became very interesting.

“I’m not your sister, not anymore. Never was – technically” you heard yourself say, avoiding his inquiring eyes.

Pursing your lips, you scratched a nail down the strap’s weave. Thor squeaked as he shuffled closer, constrained arms wrapping around your shoulders with difficulty.

Breath heaved from your lungs as he pulled you tight. “You’ll always be my sister, sister” he smiled, resting his chin on your hair.

“If these last decades taught me anything, it is that blood relation is the least important quality.” He placed a kiss on top of your head. “Now, I must depart, and entertain my brother’s lukewarm justification for his boorishness.”

He turned, throwing a ridiculous pointed yellow hood up with a flourish.

“And skin some rabbits, of course” he projected loudly, throwing you a calculated wink. From behind the bathroom door, Steve wretched again.

Loki flung the rabbits on the small bench squeezed in the corner of the hut. A ragged door hung from its hinges. If he wasn’t sure it would disintegrate, he would have slammed it. He didn’t know what to think.

Growth, he surmised, was becoming more trouble than it was worth.

He pushed his hair back from his face, the wet slick that met his hand more familiar now than he would like.

“That was rude, Loki” Thor rumbled, shaking himself like a dog in the doorway. “Hardly,” Loki snapped, casting a disparaging look in the speaker’s direction. He felt a snarl curl at the corners of his mouth at the sight of his brother spilling from the tiny yellow raincoat. “And you look ridiculous.” Loki sat abruptly on the bench, turning his attention to the rabbits. He divided them out. Three for himself, two for Thor. His brother was slower. Always had been. “It was rude,” Thor repeated, squeezing himself to the bench on the other side of the sad bundle. Loki slid a small hunting knife over in silence. Hadn’t used them in years, he realised.

Not years, Loki thought. Centuries.

Perhaps more. The shuffle of fur coming skilfully away from muscle rustled the air.

“You’ll never win her back being like that, you know” Thor murmured, drawing the knife respectfully around the rabbit’s hindquarters. Loki scoffed in spite of himself.

“Who says I wish to win her back?” he huffed, laying the first completed rabbit on a clean cloth by his side. Despite stoic intent, he found himself looking up to meet his brother’s incredulous stare.

“What?” Loki said sharply.

Thor released a theatrical shrug, rabbit swinging. “Oh I don’t know brother-” he started, laden with sarcasm.

“Something about your perpetual hangdog expression, insufferable lovelorn mooning and thwarted midnight attempts at seduction led me to believe there could perhaps be something more at play.” He tapped the half-skinned rabbit against his temple. “Not just a helmet-hold, brother” he drawled.

“It was barely ten pm,” Loki muttered petulantly, busying his hands. They continued in silence, before Thor cleared his throat. “What did you wish to speak to me about, if not that?” “It was that, you cretin. But I wish not to discuss it anymore.” “Your feelings for her?” “They have never been in question, brother. You know that.” “Yes.” “Well.” Loki snapped with finality. “Well?” “Her feelings towards me. Her concerns, the ones that broke us...she was, right.” He faltered, grateful for the pause Thor held while he gathered his thoughts. “She told me I was hurting her, and I cared not. And I know not why. At the time, her protestations seemed unreasonable.”

The confession hung around his neck like a ceremonial amulet. Heavy, powerful. “And now?” his brother probed quietly, concentrating on his work.

“Who am I, Thor?” Loki whispered, peeling the fur back from the delicate soul in his hands before stopping. “Who am I if not who I have been for centuries? Millennia?”

“People change, Loki” Thor said quietly, reaching for his brother’s hand. Loki looked up, brows peaked softly.

“But brother, we are not ‘people’. Are we?” Thor was silent. Sympathy swam in the depths of his eyes, darkened by the gloom of the cabin. Rain hit the roof. Loki was glad of it, filling the empty silence. “I’m trying,” was all Loki could muster.

“I’ve noticed,” Thor replied cautiously. “As has she, I suspect. But the palace of Asgard was not built in a day.” “She kissed me,” Loki hummed quietly, staring at the bundle in his lap. “This morning.” “Ah,” his brother hummed mysteriously.

The blonde drew his hand away from where it sat atop Loki’s. He flipped the knife, inspecting the ornate handle. “Do you remember when father gave us these?” he said thoughtfully, a smile stretching across his face. Loki frowned, gazing at his own knife. “The summer with the-” “- Haugan sisters.” They both paused, sighing simultaneously at the wall. Thor shook his head, waving nostalgia from the air. “Father said that they symbolised our transition to maturity. Protection, sustenance, a connection to our roots Loki.” Loki closed his eyes, summoning the memory. The grass was long that endless summer, a log cabin with a stone chimney that dwarfed the exterior. A cabin that had no right to be where it was – and yet, “Loki?” He opened his eyes, meeting his brother’s. In that moment, they could have been three-hundred again.

The blonde god flipped the knife back to position. “Your problem, brother, is that you spend too much time worrying about what you think you should be, rather than what you are.” “And what am I, brother?” Loki bristled, laying his second rabbit down by the side.

“Someone who’s afraid to be loved” Thor said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He pulled the final tug of fur from his charge. “Ah-Ha!” he smiled, turning. “Thank you,” Loki said quietly, cradling the offering and placing it with the others.

“All she wants,” Thor murmured, his concentration fixed on the second rabbit in his lap, “is you. The real you. The one that I know. But maybe one who listens better. And not the mural version, or the lore from battle tales...” He paused, before a sly grin stretched his lips. “Well, perhaps sometimes...if you catch my drift.”

"What if he is not enough?" Loki whispered. He wasn't sure if Thor heard him.

His brother's face had become serious again. He was on a roll. “To feel that your lover sees himself as superior to you in every way? Takes any opportunity to remind one of that? To never try to adapt to a reasonable request? I can see how it can become tiresome.” He shook his head, frowning. “Mother would never have put up with that nonsense. Why should she?”

“Indeed,” Loki muttered softly. He placed his third rabbit to the side as a sigh rattled his chest. His brother was making far too much sense for his liking these days. “Fear not, brother” Thor rumbled as he leant over, a conspiratorial glint in his eye. “I have a cunning plan. A kiss this morning is most welcome news.” “It was a strange situation. She knew not what she did- it would not have ended well, it-”

Loki’s eyes widened in horror, realisation blossoming. “A cunning what-?” There was a knock on the hut door.

Suddenly, Loki realised that the rain had stopped. Your face popped around the corner. Loki straightened, wiping his hands on his Barbour.

“Steve and I are driving into town” you said, casting glances between the gods sitting hunched on the rotten bench. “Want to come?” Thor propped his fists beneath his chin, smiling obscenely. “Oh, please, brother!?” Loki thought about rolling his eyes, before stopping himself. He pursed his lips instead. “Certainly. Although I am surprised considering-” “We’ll be ‘undercover’, obviously” you cut with air-quotes, glancing backwards. “Apparently Steve needs something from the shops. He seems a bit flustered. The nearest one is pretty small but…” Your head disappeared again, only delicate fingers remaining curled around the door’s ragged edge. He had the sudden urge to protect them from rogue splinters. Loki frowned, noting an impish smile had worryingly taken up residence on his brother's face. “-Yes, I’ll...yes I’ll tell them.” Loki and Thor looked to each other warily, before you appeared again. “Steve says wash your hands,” you said, raising your eyebrows. “And lose the yellow slicker” you nodded to Thor.

From the assortment of abandoned jackets hanging bushel-like in the hallway, they had managed to find one for Thor that wasn’t quite as conspicuous. The 3XL puffer jacket spread around him like a navy cloud.

Steve turned abruptly, eyeing Thor and Loki in the back of the Fiat. A hiss squeezed from the puffer every time Thor fidgeted. “Where am I supposed to put my legs?” Loki muttered scathingly. “This thing has gotten smaller since the drive here.” Steve’s eyes narrowed. “Speaking of magic-” he said, taking his time. “It seems that some of my personal items have gone missing.” Loki glanced at his brother, brows peaked as Steve continued. Thor’s gaze wandered out the window, following a passing bird. “We need to pick up some supplies, like bacon – that’s the cover with her,” he thumbed backwards, “since someone ate the whole week's ration.” Steve’s judgemental gaze swung towards a distracted Thor.

“But on the sly, keep your peepers open for some…” he cast a wary glance out the front windscreen, seeing you locking up the cottage. “-Unmentionables.” “Condoms?” Loki quipped factitiously. Steve flushed. “No, Laufeyson” he hissed, tone frantic as you crunched towards the car. “Rogers underwear has mysteriously vanished, brother” Thor chuckled. “One minute they were lined up in the suitcase, all thirty-six pairs. The next-” he made a whooshing gesture. “Thirty-six?” Loki mouthed incredulously. “Christ, Rogers. Did you intend on soiling yourself thrice daily?” The god twisted towards his smirking brother. “What did you do to them?” “Me? Tis not I who suspicion has fallen on, brother” Thor gasped, pressing his fingers innocently to his chest. Loki rolled his eyes, and this time – he meant it. “Well it wasn’t me.” Loki huffed, folding his arms as Steve’s stare pinballed between them. “I have better things to do. And besides, what fetid joy would I gain from such a waste of-”

You pulled the car handle with a jerk, noting all three men inside bristle and straighten in a way that could be considered nothing short of suspicious.

“Everything okay?” you murmured, settling into the driver’s seat. They nodded in silence.

Thor’s jacket hissed.

“That better not be a parp, Odinson” Steve muttered, followed by the low buzz of a lowering window. You adjusted the mirror, meeting Loki’s eyes and quickly looking away. “Okay,” you sighed to yourself. “Let’s do this.”

The comforting Tesco Express sign glowed in mid-afternoon gloom.

It was barely three, and yet it may as well be sundown. Clouds still smothered the sky, hanging low and ominous over the town’s uneven rooftops. You pulled into a parking spot outside, thanking the powers that be it was quiet. Steve cleared his throat, digging into the breast of his raincoat. He produced four mismatched caps, jamming one low on his brow before handing out the rest. “I don’t think I need to remind you to exercise caution. Don’t be suspicious. Don’t draw attention to yourself, and if anyone asks – we’re just four pals from out of town here for some good ol’ fashioned cottaging.” You wrinkled your nose. “That doesn’t mean what you-” “May we begin this expedition so that it might end sooner?” Loki drawled. With no warning, Thor farted.

The captain’s eyes widened. “Get out...get out!” he gagged. It was the fastest evacuation of a hatchback you had ever witnessed. Thor was last, his cheeks pink. “All the bacon,” he explained sheepishly while pushing the seat forward. You took Thor’s arm, letting the puff of his jacket warm your chilled fingers. While the god’s wide eyes inspected the snack chiller inside the door, you saw a non-nonchalant Loki meander straight to the checkout followed by a jumpy Steve.

The captain hung back, picking up a packet of gingerbread men and inspecting it over a pair of sunglasses.

Loki drummed his fingers on the counter, smiling wryly as a member of staff appeared from the back. “Hi, with you in one second-” they said, holding up a finger before disappearing again. Loki murmured pleasantries, adjusting the cap holding the stuff of his hair. “What are you doing?!” Steve hissed. Loki caught a musty waft of his own waxed jacket as he turned, shooting Rogers a perishing glare.

“You’re the one that has us looking as though we intend to rob the place. Hush,” Loki hissed back. Steve snapped back to the nutritional information as the Tesco worker re-surfaced. “Sorry about that,” they said.

Loki released a dazzling forced smile. “Do you happen to have any mens undergarments in this” he raised his palms, searching for an accurate descriptor, “place?” The man on the other side of the counter frowned. “Like, underwear? No...you’d need to go to one of the bigger stores for that kind of thing.” Loki stared at him. “There’s one in Millom?” the man added nervously, making the sides of Loki’s eyes crinkle before his features softened. “I see,” he purred, tilting his head. “How unfortunate.” “Anything else I can help with?” the mortal asked. Loki sighed thoughtfully, rocking on his heels.

“One package of,” he squinted at the shelf behind the counter. “Durex Extra Safe, if you would.” The heat from Steve’s cheeks radiated the short distance from the bakery display. There was the squeak of a shoe, the telling crack of biscuit as the captain’s sensibilities floundered. Behind the counter, the man turned without a second thought, reaching up before glancing back. “Pack of three or pack of twelve?” he asked.

Loki smirked. “Pack of three or pack of twelve, darling?” he crooned to Steve, whose face had flushed an alarming shade of beetroot. He turned back to face the cashier. “Pack of twelve.” Loki winked.

You couldn’t hear what what transpiring at the check-out, but the shade of Steve’s skin gave the distinct impression it wasn’t on script. The oblivious shop worker reached up, bringing down a box and handing it to Loki who parted with a crisp twenty pound note. Where did he get cash, you thought; before realising what the box was. Are those...

“Agent, look-” Thor exclaimed beside you as he held out an oblong package. “Party Rings,” he said smugly, “If ever there was a snack made for I, tis this – surely.” You muttered a quick uh-huh, stalking down the aisle to where blustery Steve was busying himself picking up a random assortment of foodstuffs piled high in his arms. “Steve?” you said warily as you removed three packets of bacon and a tub of yoghurt. It revealed his face, still flushed and sweaty.

“Laufeyson bought...prophylactics,” Steve rasped as his eyes darted around the empty aisle.

“I saw,” you responded sympathetically while the captain shook his head. “In broad daylight too” he added, narrowing his eyes over your shoulder.

The increasingly erotic scent of waxed Barbour jacket filled your nostrils. “Got everything?” your ex quipped. Steve’s lips flapped, forming words that didn’t come. He released a goose-like hiss instead. You quickly unloaded the rest of the groceries from his hands, spilling them into Thor’s basket just as he parked himself beside you. “What’s happening?” Thor said. Crumbs from a ravaged pack of Party Rings clung to his beard. Loki continued, unperturbed.

“I’m sorry they didn’t have your unmentionables, Rogers. But nevermind – not a totally wasted trip.” He tossed the box of condoms to Steve who caught them out of instinct. “Oh, Extra Safe – excellent choice,” Thor rumbled far too loudly. “And a necessity, for my brother and I – nothing else seems to hold the force of our seed without making quite the mess-” he cast a knowing glance to you. “She knows,” he winked. Steve looked between the gods, aghast. Thor produced a chicken drumstick from his pocket, taking a casual bite. “Are you the same, Rogers?” he said, chewing thoughtfully. “I imagine you must be with all that super-whatjit-serum business.” There was silence. “Oh, right” Thor laughed awkwardly. “Well, you never know...this trip might be the one.” He slapped Steve on the back, chortling.

“Stop calling me Rogers…” Rogers whispered. He looked like he was in shock, staring at the pack of twelve condoms in his hands. “Someone might…” Steve’s face paled as catastrophic images fell into place inside his head. A picture of him on the homepage of every gossip site there was, holding a box of French Letters in Tesco Express like a pervert. He stuffed them in his pocket.

“Let’s pay for this stuff and go.” he said firmly.

“Excuse me?” a voice creaked from further up the aisle. The four of you broke your huddle, battle-stances activated.

An old man shuffled closer, the tap of his walking stick echoing on the polished floor. “What should we do, Agent?” Thor muttered out the corner of his mouth. Your face softened, looking the geriatric up and down. “He’s clean, just an old dude,” you said. Steve tutted beside you. “Could be a disguise.” “A disguise?!” you hissed. “Excuse me, are you-” the old man started, before stopping in a haze of coughing. You began to step towards him, but Steve’s arm flew out to stop you. Four sets of eyes watched the man pick up pace, rubber end of his cane tap tap tapping on the floor as his crinkled gaze widened. It swept between the tall figures before him. Recognition. “Code Amber. Breach. Do something normal,” Steve whispered in panic. Without missing a beat, Thor lifted a sandwich carton from the basket and held in front of his face.

You turned, colliding with Loki’s chest. “Follow my lead,” he growled as he yanked you around the end of the aisle.

Before you could protest, he had you caged against a row of toilet paper. Matt plastic packaging cushioned the back of your head while Loki’s forearm pressed against the face of a sweet looking puppy. “This is normal... isn’t it?” Loki breathed, eyes flickering nervously from your shocked expression to where Steve was checking the expiry date on milk.

You stared up at him, fighting the urge to inhale deeply against the hollow of his neck with all your strength. Pine and smoked cedarwood and that fucking wax jacket. Loki's throat bobbed, working anxiously as the elderly gentleman bypassed the strange man holding a sandwich in front of his eyes. He was gaining on Steve. He's actually worried, you realised. “Move, Rogers” Loki grit, frowning as the intruder finally tapped an undercover captain on the shoulder. The god's eyes widened earnestly. It made you want to sink onto your knees.

The bow of Loki’s jawline was strained, veins tight and pulsing like they did when he was about to cum down your throat; his eyes pleading and needy, mouth open and- You swallowed. Letting your fingers clasp around the rough material of his open jacket, you tugged it gently. “It’s just an old man,” you whispered. Loki tilted his head, seemingly just realising the position he had manoeuvred you into. A gulp made his throat stiffen, then relax.

“Two old men,” he hummed, mirth warming his eyes. You smiled, and so did he.

Loki shuffled closer, his breath mingling with yours. He glanced towards the scene unfolding one aisle over, wetted lips hovering dangerously close to your own.

“Update,” he purred playfully, “the decrepit man has asked Rogers to get something from a high shelf. He has obliged.”

You pursed your lips with an approving nod, hoping Loki couldn’t smell the adrenaline seeping through your pores. “And my brother is still the village madman.”

A giggle escaped you, before the pad of Loki’s index finger smothered it gently. He leant close, your foreheads touching conspiratorially as silent laughter made his chest shake. His mouth creased in a soft smile, rolling the bottom lip beneath the top. “Shhh, you’ll get us in trouble,” he murmured in a way that made your soul leave your body. You wondered if he was hardening beneath his trousers right now. He would have, before. Maybe – if last night was anything to go by. But your awkward kiss this morning flashed back with frightening clarity, the hard look in his eyes as he said the only word that ever seemed to matter. Go. Don't be an idiot, you thought bitterly. Your hands slipped from their rest on his jacket, catching briefly on his belt. Loki watched them fall.

“Me in trouble,” he corrected, face stiffening. You stared at each other for what felt like an eternity before Thor’s face peered around the corner, a half eaten ploughman’s sandwich in his grasp. “Time to leave before Rogers goes into cardiac arrest,” he chuckled, nudging his head towards Steve loitering jerkily by the door.

“Can you pay for these?” Thor said, holding out the basket. Empty packets lay nestled amongst the survivors. “You’re the least famous.” You rolled your eyes, nodding up towards Loki. “That sounds like something he would say,” you quipped without thinking. Loki’s brow furrowed. He let the protective arm resting above your head fall without a second glance, striding the long way around towards the exit. Thor took another bite of sandwich. He shrugged, before following his brother. But he didn’t, you thought with a stab of guilt as the three of them disappeared into the street.

The glow of the Fiat’s lock lights flashed. He didn’t.

--> Continued in Chapter Five, A Cunning Plan