#inspire to get good rest y'all!!!
Note
im the one that sent you ligma. i actually slept so good my entire body went through some sort of reset and I‘ve never been better 😎 XD
GODAMNIT gave the opposite luck didn't I.... well I'm HAPPY you got your GODAMNED sleep and I hope you ENJOY the NEXT 24 HOURS
#**AGGRESIVE HEARTS#I think you should become some idol. literally everyone on this app is NOT sleeping well or a lot AND GET YO BEAUTY SLEEP#I woke up at 5am it was not fun#inspire to get good rest y'all!!!#scrambled#anonymous
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Okay, so I saw some people talking about the new Imotekh reveal (very cool, very cool), and they were discussing the four-fingered gauntlet with its cool claws and stuff, and I could not stop thinking about how Aun'Shi also has four-fingered claws (I draw a lot of T'au okay) and I just think they should get manicures together.
I am so tired and so, so sorry
✨Besties✨
#warhammer 40k#wh 40k#necrons#t'au#imotekh the stormlord#aun'shi#art#my art#traditional art#unpolished art#I couldn't get this out of my brain and now the rest of y'all have to see it too hahahaha#I apologise so much for this#not canon compliant#not lore friendly#I love the new Imotekh mini tho#Despite the art it has inspired lmao#I can't draw necrons T.T#have a good day everyone!! I'm so sorry
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pink in the night
Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Summary: Some interesting rumours have been circling around about Bucky. Little do you know, it's kinda your fault.
Word Count: 4.5K
Warnings: Porn with a bit of plot, SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, soft Buck, SMUT!!!!
AN: Sorry y'all! It's kinda a bit shit but listen, it's self-indulgent so idc :) This is kinda inspired by 'Pink in the Night' by Mitski which I was listening to while writing this. Have a good rest of the week, y'all <3
Repost
Bucky had a love-hate relationship with being your neighbour. On the one hand, he loved seeing your face as you left your room every morning, hair not yet slicked to perfection, and sleep still evident on your face. You seemed a lot more innocent in the morning - conversations more idle.
On the other hand - and perhaps as a downside to his more sensitive hearing - you drove him crazy with the knowledge of things that perhaps he wasn't supposed to know.
This night was no different. You had headed off to bed after a long day, bidding everyone in the kitchen a good night. You grabbed a water bottle before slipping into the elevator, Bucky not far behind. You stepped out of the elevator together and you wished him sweet dreams before slipping into your room. Oh, his dreams were going to be far from sweet.
You see, your beds were pushed up to opposite sides of the same wall, so he could hear you relax on your bed. He could hear you shuffle to strip into just your underwear, and how your hand slipped into your panties. He could hear how your breath hitched as you circled your clit, and your soft moans as you plunged your fingers into your cunt or as your vibrator dipped in between your folds.
He could almost envisage you doing it - a forbidden porno that took root in his mind every night that he heard you finger yourself to completion. The rosy pink flush that you would glow as you came all over your hand. Your heavy rise and fall of your chest as you came down from your high. The small smile that would adorn your face as rolled over to fall asleep - the oxytocin released coursing through your veins.
He felt disgusting as he did - one of those creeps that he intended to protect you from for the rest of his life. But after you'd fallen asleep, he'd hop into the shower to cool his body and his mind - to throw the detestable thoughts of you to the far corners of his mind. But as he fell asleep, you'd re-enter his mind in a different way. A more safe-for-work way. You'd be in his arms, cuddling him and whispering sweet words of encouragement. You'd be cooking him dinner while he told you funny stories about his life with scrawny Steve in the 40s; he'd be washing the dishes while you sat on the counter tell him about your day. He'd worry for your well-being - not as an overbearing coworker but as a loving, doting boyfriend. Maybe husband.
Bucky was getting ahead of himself - he'd have to work up the courage to have more than a few-word conversation with you. But for now, wishing he could hold your hand would have to suffice.
Being Bucky's neighbour was not much easier. Especially when he was completely oblivious to your plight. Even the slight brush of a hand made your heart flutter.
You loved seeing him early in the morning - he always seemed less reserved when he was fresh from a good night's rest. He was faster to smile, faster to laugh. It was nice. You woke up at an ungodly hour to see him just before he headed on his morning run. You couldn't deny that the morning light did wonders for him - you were always left wanting more when he dipped into the elevator.
Oh, and the sounds. Your hearing was not quite as superior as Bucky's, but you definitely heard things that left you clenching around thin air.
You knew Bucky wasn't one to self-complete often - in fact, it was rare that you ever caught on to the act. But you had caught the odd broken moan coming from his room. You turned into molten mush, the weight of your arousal buckling your knees. If there was any sound that could turn you to putty, it was that.
You didn't how many times the idea of Bucky fucking you had played through your mind, but each night a different variation brought you the same ending - your fingers deep in your cunt, coaxing you to a climax.
Every night, you wished his cock, tongue, fingers were filling you up instead of yours, leaving you aching and wishing for more. You wanted to run your nails down his back - leaving permanent reminders of your love for him - while he nipped at your neck - leaving marks claiming you as his.
Sometimes, your brain caught up to your thoughts, reprimanding you for your possessiveness. He wasn't yours, you had to remind yourself, even if you wished he was. For that, you'd have to actually have to have more than a few-word conversation with him - which to be honest, seemed impossible. So you stuck to your nightly wishful dreaming, hoping one day he'd be yours. Only yours.
Summer was the worst for Bucky. You were the type to spend hours upon hours out in the sun, coming back with a budding tan and rosy complexion - it did nothing to quell the budding images flashing in the back of his mind. You. Under him. Panting. Moaning his name as he brought you to the edge. Over and over again. Face glowing pink as you gaze up into his eyes, drunk on love and his cock. Bucky had to excuse himself to splash cold water on his face.
It didn't help that the clothing you wore did nothing to help his imagination. The semi-sheer tops, the shorts, the swimsuit and bikinis. Every time he saw you, he immediately had to duck back inside to deal with 'a little problem'. More like a very large, very hard, and very obvious problem.
Still, he enjoyed your company more than he had for the better part of his time living in the compound. He listened to your stories, your jokes, helped solve your issues. He felt that - even if you weren't quite what he wanted you to be - your relationship was blossoming into something quite beautiful. And that made him feel a lot braver - he introduced a little comment here and there, a hand always on your waist or the small of your back. He flirted with you from time to time: just to gauge a meter on your reactions, he'd tell himself, as if this was an experiment to crack a hypothesis that had been perplexing scientists for years.
The sun was peaking over the top of the trees surrounding the compound when you woke up. That was a rarity in summer, given that the sun rose at nearly 5am. Still, you didn't miss out on the opportunity to watch the sunrise, curling up on your windowsill with your blanket wrapped tightly around your shoulders.
You heard Bucky opening his door, and you ran towards yours, grabbing your phone and slippers on your way. You opened your door just as he closed his. He was dressed in gym wear - as always - since he was going on his morning run around the compound track. It was a nice track - one that you rarely frequented - going in and out of the forest behind the compound, totalling about 4.5 miles in distance.
He took you in, eyes bulging as they raked over you. You looked down, following his gaze. Shit. In your rush to see Bucky, you'd forgotten that your nightwear had consisted of some flimsy shorts and your bra - that you had thrown on after waking up to save a modicum of dignity, should someone burst into your room. It was too hot for anything else. You crossed your arms over your chest, which indefinitely made the issue worse as Bucky's eyes lifted way over your head.
"Looking good, babe!" Nat yells, walking across the landing toward you both. Clearly, Bucky had been intending to go on a run with her, maybe fit in a quick sparring session. You sent them on their way, with a 'have fun' and 'don't have too much fun.'
As soon as you were back in the comfort of your room, Nat elbowed Bucky hard.
"Oww! What the fuck was that for?" Rubbing his metal arm, for the convincing act.
"Oh please, you big baby. You have a fucking metal arm, get over yourself." She looked down, "You have a bit of a situation going on down there."
He looks down, embarrassment flushing his cheeks bright red, and subtly tucked his hard dick into his waistband.
"You wanna go sort that out? I won't hold it against you," Nat said, hitting the button to call the lift, "I promise not to tell Stark. Scout's honour." She jokingly holds up 3 fingers. Bucky swats her arm gently.
"No point."
Nat gasps, "No way. Don't tell me Mr. Winter Soldier can't have sex."
"Not sex," Bucky mumbles, "Just jerking off. Can't seem to - you know - finish."
Bucky had a history with Nat. They'd known each other for years. That kind of history made this kind of conversation somewhat less uncomfortable.
Nat burst into laughter. So much for not being uncomfortable.
The lift stopped on Sam's floor. He stepped in, gazing warily at the scene in front of him: the Black Widow doubled over in laughter, and the Winter Soldier embarrassed and uncomfortable in the corner.
He begged to be let in on the joke. Nat wheezed between laughs, "He - can't - fucking - cum!" Bursting into another bout of laughter, with Sam close behind, Bucky jumps out on the next floor, heading to the roof for some fresh air. He catches you up there, trying out some morning yoga. He sneaks up behind you as your stand up, grabbing your waist. You shriek, hitting him hard in the chest, before melting into his embrace once your brain caught up to the situation.
"Not fair!" You pouted, pausing your peaceful music, "Yoga's supposed to be peaceful!"
Bucky chuckles, pulling you into another hug, feeling you wrap your arms around his neck.
"I thought you were going on a run with Nat?" You whispered into his ear, your cheek resting on his clavicle.
"She ditched me for Sam." Bucky opted to leave out the real reason why he had left Nat and Sam in pieces in the elevator.
"Sucks to be you, Barnes!" You laugh pulling away and stepping back onto your mat. "Now leave me alone - just 'cause your friends abandoned you, doesn't mean you can bother me."
Bucky pouted, causing you to laugh before you turned back to your Yoga. He stood there and watched you for a minute, before heading back down to the gym. He strung up a punching bag, before wrapping his flesh wrist. Bucky took all his pent-up aggression and frustration out on the punching bag, allowing no respite between each jab, cross, and hook.
He stayed in the gym for over 3 hours, working every bit of stress out of his body. By the time he left the gym, the sun was high in the sky and a long day of paperwork and training awaited. Bucky headed up to his room for a quick shower - washing all the sweat off his body.
He felt lighter heading downstairs for breakfast - the weight of his arousal pushed far back in his mind. There was nothing he could do about it anyway.
Since deciding he would pursue you honestly, he couldn't seem to finish, no matter how hard he tried. You had been the only thing to push him over the edge - it seemed his body couldn't do it without you. It was frustrating beyond belief. He'd tried other things, porn, erotica, even thinking back to good times before the war. Nothing helped. It was as if his body was finetuned to you - only you knew the magic password to release him. Figuratively and literally.
When he reached the kitchen, he was privy to a welcome sight. You, in your combat gear, grabbing some granola bars before you jumped on the quinjet. You and Stark were heading on a surveillance mission in Guatemala for the week. You were reaching up to the top shelf, stretching on your tiptoes for the expensive granolas that had been kept on the top shelf. Bucky's granola bars that he had put there to stop anyone else from stealing them.
He reached up from behind you and grabbed the box, placing it in your hands. You looked guilty. You'd been caught red-handed.
"It's fine, doll. Take as many as you want." He said, leaning back against the counter, resting on his forearms. Your face flushed red as you grabbed 2 or 3, shoving them into your bag and turning around to fill up your water bottle.
You shivered when his hot breath fanned across your exposed neck, "Just remember that you owe me."
He was gone by the time you turned around.
The rumour had spread like wildfire while you were away.
"Did you hear that Bucky can't have sex?"
"I heard that Bucky can't - you know - cum?"
"Apparently, his time at Hydra fucked him up worse than he realised."
"He can't even masturbate you know?"
The rumours were getting out of hand, but he let them swirl. There was an ounce of truth to them, even if Hydra had nothing to do with his current predicament.
No, that blame could only lie with you.
When you got back, Bucky had just left on a 4-day-long mission with Sam - which meant you heard all the rumours and Bucky wasn't there to defend himself.
You heard it first when you dropped your suit off for dry-cleaning. One of the tech guys was whispering to Marta, the woman who looked after the dry cleaning of suits, about Bucky's apparent inability to ejaculate. You were shocked. Where the hell did they even get that information? You dropped off your suit and headed back up to your room to shower.
You then heard another mention of it when you went to drop off your reports. Two of the agents that were being reassigned to Steve's team - that were currently on a month-long mission in Chad - were gossiping outside Tony's office.
" - and apparently she ran out crying. Thought she wasn't good enough for him or something along those lines. I don't know."
"Yeah, apparently the breakup was grizzly."
"I feel bad for him you know, all of the shit he went through with Hydra, and now this?"
"Yeah, man, really sucks."
Your face blushed a bright red. What the fuck? Where did this rumour even come from? You knew for a fact that Bucky hadn't had a girlfriend since living in the compound so wherever that part of the rumour came from was completely untrue.
You had to get to the bottom of this.
You spent the better part of the next 2 days collecting bits of information from conversations between people around the compound. You found out that the rumour had originated from a conversation between Nat and Sam, which an agent had overheard while they were on their run. It had been twisted as most oral stories were leading to this big misleading idea that Bucky was unable to even get it up and that he was unable to please a woman. You were sure the latter part was untrue. You'd heard the way he moaned alone in his room - you were sure that you could cum just from his moans alone. He wouldn't even need to touch you.
You didn't think the rumour would affect you when Bucky got back. After all, you knew at least some of it to be false. But when he got back, his beard grown out a little because he couldn't shave it while he was away, you felt embarrassed. Not because of his supposed 'predicament' but because you felt as if you had found out something that you maybe weren't supposed to know.
Bucky caught on quicker than you would have liked. The night after he got back, Tony had thrown a little get-together to 'celebrate midsummer'. Realistically, Tony just wanted a reason to go out and drink with his friends. You had avoided Bucky most of the night - not necessarily intentionally, but Bucky still felt slightly hurt and more than a little confused.
He caught you alone on the balcony, looking out at the stars.
"Did I do something?" He said, sneaking up behind you and making you jump. Nervousness and insecurity laced his every move, worried that he had hurt you in some way that he couldn't possibly imagine.
You shook your head violently, scared to make eye contact with him. He lifted your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his.
"What's wrong?" You turned back to face the sky, embarrassment filling your chest. He laced his metal fingers into yours, "You know you can tell me anything, right?"
"It's stupid."
"No, it's not. Nothing's stupid, not if it's you." Your heart fluttered at his words.
Your eyes met his steady gaze, "It's really stupid." His eyes begged you to go on, "It's just that - um - when I got back I - um - heardthisreallystupidrumourandIshouldn'thaveletitgettomebutbasically -"
Bucky placed a hand on your waist, drawing small circles, "Breathe."
"Someone said you had trouble pleasing women." You let out quietly. If it hadn't been for his enhanced hearing, he probably would have missed you. His grip on your waist tightened, "Bucky?"
"Trouble pleasing women? That's a new one." His deep voice cut you to your core. You let out a small whimper as the arousal pooled in your panties.
Bucky didn't miss that either.
He grabbed your arm and led you through the party. No one gave you a double look as he lead you into the vacant elevator, slamming your floor number and pushing you up against the wall.
"Think I can't please a woman, huh? Think again. Don't think I don't know what you think about when you cum all over your hand, whining my name under your breath." You whined lowly at his words, feeling how he pushed his hard dick perfectly in line with your throbbing pussy, "Isn't that right, slut? That's what you are, aren't you? My perfect little slut?" You moan at his degrading statement, pushing your pussy further onto his cock trying to find some friction.
"So needy," He tutted, his condescending tone only heightening your arousal. The elevator door pinged and Bucky picked you up bridal-style, kicking the door to your room open. You regularly forgot to lock it while heading down to dinner - for once, both you and Bucky were glad.
He dropped you on your bed, unceremoniously, eyes raking over you ravenously. The heat rose up your face, as you shifted under his unrelenting gaze.
"Oh baby, you don't how long I've been waiting for this." He leaned down locking your lips in a passionate kiss. His palm landed just above your knee, caressing up your leg towards your upper thigh. His hand slid under your dress, cupping your ass. He left a light squeeze, making you gasp into the kiss.
He leaned down, grabbing you with ease, flipping you both so you were straddling his waist. He tangled his flesh hand in your hair, the metal one possessively gripping your hip. He brought you down to his lips for another kiss - even when you were on top, he made sure you knew that he was in charge.
He toyed with the hem of your dress, eyes raking over you once again.
"Off."
You pulled the dress over your head, leaving you in your bra and panties. You felt seriously underdressed, especially considering Bucky was still in his jacket. He reaches up, joining your lips in another kiss, and reaching around to remove your bra. He tosses it to the side, running his knuckles over your pebbled nipples. You moan loudly, panties soaked. He takes his time pinching and squeezing your nipples, licking and biting as he went. The alternate sensations of one warm hand and one ice-cold heighten your arousal ten-fold. You buck your hips over his jeans, the sensation of his fly between your sensitive folds throwing you into overdrive.
His grip on your waist tightened once again. "I can feel your cunt throbbing, honey." You whimpered pathetically. "Go ahead, use me to get off. I know you want to."
Your hips started bucking off their own accord, clothed pussy running over the fly of his jeans. They started slow, getting a feel for what exactly you were doing. Bucky's hands started pushing you faster, setting a faster groove. The coil in your stomach began to tighten as your bucking became more erratic. You teetered on the edge of an orgasm when Bucky stopped you.
"Beg." He restarted your pace, faster and more erratic than before.
"Please, please, please, please, Bucky, please let me cum, please..-" You babbled, tripping and stumbling through your pleas. With a searing kiss, he gives you permission.
"I love you, I love you, I love, OH-" You fall off the edge of one of the hardest orgasms you've ever had, head empty with only one thing on your mind. Bucky.
You feel Bucky manhandle your body so your back is lying on the bed and he is towering over you. He asks you if you want to go on and all you can do is nod your head vigorously.
He chuckles, "I like your enthusiasm baby, but I need words. Can you do that for me?"
"Yes, YES!" You shout, breathlessly, already needing more.
He's fully naked and it's all you can do to not stare. He's definitely a well-endowed man, and he definitely has no problem getting it up.
"Like what you see?" He smirks, and you slap his thigh playfully. He pulls you further toward the edge of the bed and lines his dick up with your slick folds. He slides in slowly, holding your chin up so you keep eye contact with him. He watches as your eyes roll to the back of your head in satisfaction. You've never felt so full in your life. He presses into you slowly, feeling the way your tightness engulfs him, allowing your body to adjust to his size. You whimper softly as he pushes in - you never realised just how desperate you were for him.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" He chuckles, watching as tears leak out of your eyes. His condescending tone was back, and all it did was make you hornier. You babbled incoherently, "Gone dumb already? What a cock-drunk little slut you are."
He trails a metal finger up the side of your torso, watching the goosebumps left in its wake. You whimper again.
"Such a needy little baby. Only I can take care of you like this, right? Only me."
"Only you." You affirmed, pressing a kiss to the arm near your head.
He pulled out almost entirely, before slamming all the way back in. You screamed in pleasure, and Bucky set a brutal pace. He pinned your arms above your head with his right hand, and his left hand came to wrap around your throat. The significance of that was not lost on you. He loved you enough to not hurt you, even with his metal arm.
"I love you, baby. You know that right?" Bucky looked you deep in the eyes, "You know I love you right?"
"I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you," You babble back, lost in the throes of passion.
Bucky found your clit with his metal hand, pressing and flicking gently. You felt your muscles tighten for a second time, and you grabbed the sheets throwing your head back as you came harder than the first time.
Bucky came moments later, deep inside you with a loud moan. He pulled out slowly, collapsing next to you. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling yourself into his neck.
He chuckled at that, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a bear hug. You stayed like that for a minute before he untangled himself from you and carried you to the bathroom.
He turned on the shower and you both stepped under it, cleaning the sweat and cum off your bodies. Your legs felt like jelly, so you leaned heavily into Bucky as he washed you off.
"Stay awake, doll, just for a second," He said, shaking you awake each time you dozed off in the shower.
Bucky pulled some of your clothes onto your body, before setting you down on the bed. He gave you a quick kiss to the forehead before promising to be back soon.
He snuck into his room wrapped in a towel, before throwing on the first pair of sweats he could find and dashing to the kitchen for a cup of water.
He snuck back into your room, to see you already dead asleep on the bed. He slipped under the covers, tugging you closer to his chest, and smiled.
Through your grogginess, you nuzzled into his chest. "I love you." You whispered, your lips resting against his heart.
You woke up to the sound of soft snoring in your ear and sunlight streaming through the window. You smiled. You untangled yourself from Bucky's arms, disappearing into your bathroom to pee. You wash your face and brush your teeth before diving back into Bucky's arms.
Your legs were still sore from last night, but you didn't care. You were Bucky's and Bucky was yours. The very thought put a massive smile on your face.
"What's tickled your feather this morning?" Goddamn, his morning voice was sexy. You smiled and pressed a hard kiss to his lips.
Bucky smiled through the kiss. He picked you up by the thighs, carrying you while he brushed his teeth and splashed his face.
The compound was pretty silent, barely anyone was awake after drinking the night away. So, while Bucky made you pancakes for breakfast, you asked him the question, "Hey, Buck, where did the rumour come from?"
He looked at you, vaguely embarrassed, "You know that day, when me and Nat were gonna go down to train?"
You face flushed red, "When I walked out in my underwear?"
"Yeah," he chuckled, "I got a hard-on, like a teenage boy."
You stifled a laugh.
"So, Nat said, do I wanna go deal with it? And I told her I couldn't."
You looked at him confused, "Why not?"
"Cause of you," he said simply. You looked at him even more confused, "You were the only thing I got get off to. I tried everything else. Porn, erotica, even thinking about old sex. Nothing worked."
You flushed red again. "Oh god, I've weirded you out, haven't I?" You broke off his impending spiral with a kiss.
"I love you." You said, placing a kiss on his bare chest.
He looked at you with such love and reverence that you felt like you might combust under his gaze.
He kissed you again and all you could think was, "I love you, I love you, I love you."
I love you, I love you, I love you.
I love you I love you I love you.
fin.
buy me a coffee
#bucky barnes fluff#bucky x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes#bucky angst#bucky x y/n#bucky x you#bucky fic#bucky fluff#bukcy barnes#bucky x female reader#winter soldier#bucky imagine#bucky smut
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Cod BF/GF Scenario
Letting go of their hand while you're out in public, in a semi-crowded area
Characters Included: John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, Valeria Garza, Farah Karim, Kate Laswell, Alex Keller, König, Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin, Keegan P. Russ, Gary "Roach" Sanderson, Nikolai Belinski, Philip Graves.
Heavily inspired by this post and by @lxvvie TikTok, credits to the side photos here. The rendered photo is of course by the CoD community's favorite @ave661.
They notice almost immediately, you didn't even have a chance to let go yet, in the middle of loosening your fingers that were tangled against theirs when they tightened their grip by reflex. Enough to keep your hand but not to cause you any pain or discomfort, you let out a giggle indicating to them that you were messing around. Yeah you will not regret that later..
Characters: John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Alejandro Vargas, Valeria Garza, König, Keegan P. Russ, Philip Graves.
They had to do a double take, they ended up walking a few steps away before noticing and they place their hand out and started signaling you to put your hand back in theirs, you didn't and just laughed so they walked back to ask you what was wrong. When you told them nothing and it was just to see their reaction, they looked almost offended. Never joke about something like that again, they almost thought you were going to break up with them from then and there. More likely they were very touchy and a little clingy for the rest of the day. Pretty much looked like a kicked puppy when you tried doing it again.
Characters: John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, Alex Keller, Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin, Gary "Roach" Sanderson, Philip Graves.
Oh they looked so offended, how dare you let go of their hand?! Yeah you brought that on yourself, it's more likely this will turn into a whole prank war between the both of you. Of course they still went back to hold your hand again but this time you CANNOT pry it off, you started it so you don't really have room to complain.
Characters: John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin, Nikolai Belinski, Philip Graves.
Cool, calm, and collected, they first thought nothing of it but then you started doing it multiple times. They asked if you okay but you smiled and nodded, made them more confused. Then they caught sight of your attempt to not laugh, they thought of it as good fun, they might get you back later on so watch out for that.
Characters: John Price, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, Farah Karim, Kate Laswell, Alex Keller, König, Keegan P. Russ, Nikolai Belinski.
A/N: I'M FREAKING OUT BECAUSE @blingblong55 AND OTHER POPULAR CREATORS HAD BEEN LIKING MY POSTS LIKE OH MY GOD. Y'ALL NEED TO STOP GIVING ME HEART ATTACKS.
Small note: I wanna tag this Creator so bad on my fave CoD creator list because I feel like they're so underappreciated and their works are so good, I saw their acc through @puff0o0's blog and I think they have their mentions off for people who aren't mutuals ahaha.
#cod x reader#aethelwyne lia writes#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#task force 141 x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#john soap mctavish x reader#john price x reader#alejandro vargas x reader#rodolfo parra x reader#valeria garza x reader#farah karim x reader#alex keller x reader#konig x reader#horangi x reader#keegan russ x reader#roach x reader#nikolai belinski x reader#philip graves x reader#cod scenarios#cod fanfic#cod headcanons#cod mwii#simon ghost riley x reader
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Pink in the Night
Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: Some interesting rumours have been circling around about Bucky. Little do you know, it's kinda your fault.
Word Count: 4.5K
Warnings: Porn with a bit of plot, SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, soft Buck, SMUT!!!!
AN: Sorry y'all! It's kinda a bit shit but listen, it's self-indulgent so idc :) This is kinda inspired by 'Pink in the Night' by Mitski which I was listening to while writing this. Have a good rest of the week, y'all <3 (Also, I love this gif. Can anyone tell me where it's from????)
Bucky had a love-hate relationship with being your neighbour. On the one hand, he loved seeing your face as you left your room every morning, hair not yet slicked to perfection, and sleep still evident on your face. You seemed a lot more innocent in the morning - conversations more idle.
On the other hand - and perhaps as a downside to his more sensitive hearing - you drove him crazy with the knowledge of things that perhaps he wasn't supposed to know.
This night was no different. You had headed off to bed after a long day, bidding everyone in the kitchen a good night. You grabbed a water bottle before slipping into the elevator, Bucky not far behind. You stepped out of the elevator together and you wished him sweet dreams before slipping into your room. Oh, his dreams were going to be far from sweet.
You see, your beds were pushed up to opposite sides of the same wall, so he could hear you relax on your bed. He could hear you shuffle to strip into just your underwear, and how your hand slipped into your panties. He could hear how your breath hitched as you circled your clit, and your soft moans as you plunged your fingers into your cunt or as your vibrator dipped in between your folds.
He could almost envisage you doing it - a forbidden porno that took root in his mind every night that he heard you finger yourself to completion. The rosy pink flush that you would glow as you came all over your hand. Your heavy rise and fall of your chest as you came down from your high. The small smile that would adorn your face as rolled over to fall asleep - the oxytocin released coursing through your veins.
He felt disgusting as he did - one of those creeps that he intended to protect you from for the rest of his life. But after you'd fallen asleep, he'd hop into the shower to cool his body and his mind - to throw the detestable thoughts of you to the far corners of his mind. But as he fell asleep, you'd re-enter his mind in a different way. A more safe-for-work way. You'd be in his arms, cuddling him and whispering sweet words of encouragement. You'd be cooking him dinner while he told you funny stories about his life with scrawny Steve in the 40s; he'd be washing the dishes while you sat on the counter tell him about your day. He'd worry for your well-being - not as an overbearing coworker but as a loving, doting boyfriend. Maybe husband.
Bucky was getting ahead of himself - he'd have to work up the courage to have more than a few-word conversation with you. But for now, wishing he could hold your hand would have to suffice.
Being Bucky's neighbour was not much easier. Especially when he was completely oblivious to your plight. Even the slight brush of a hand made your heart flutter.
You loved seeing him early in the morning - he always seemed less reserved when he was fresh from a good night's rest. He was faster to smile, faster to laugh. It was nice. You woke up at an ungodly hour to see him just before he headed on his morning run. You couldn't deny that the morning light did wonders for him - you were always left wanting more when he dipped into the elevator.
Oh, and the sounds. Your hearing was not quite as superior as Bucky's, but you definitely heard things that left you clenching around thin air.
You knew Bucky wasn't one to self-complete often - in fact, it was rare that you ever caught on to the act. But you had caught the odd broken moan coming from his room. You turned into molten mush, the weight of your arousal buckling your knees. If there was any sound that could turn you to putty, it was that.
You didn't how many times the idea of Bucky fucking you had played through your mind, but each night a different variation brought you the same ending - your fingers deep in your cunt, coaxing you to a climax.
Every night, you wished his cock, tongue, fingers were filling you up instead of yours, leaving you aching and wishing for more. You wanted to run your nails down his back - leaving permanent reminders of your love for him - while he nipped at your neck - leaving marks claiming you as his.
Sometimes, your brain caught up to your thoughts, reprimanding you for your possessiveness. He wasn't yours, you had to remind yourself, even if you wished he was. For that, you'd have to actually have to have more than a few-word conversation with him - which to be honest, seemed impossible. So you stuck to your nightly wishful dreaming, hoping one day he'd be yours. Only yours.
Summer was the worst for Bucky. You were the type to spend hours upon hours out in the sun, coming back with a budding tan and rosy complexion - it did nothing to quell the budding images flashing in the back of his mind. You. Under him. Panting. Moaning his name as he brought you to the edge. Over and over again. Face glowing pink as you gaze up into his eyes, drunk on love and his cock. Bucky had to excuse himself to splash cold water on his face.
It didn't help that the clothing you wore did nothing to help his imagination. The semi-sheer tops, the shorts, the swimsuit and bikinis. Every time he saw you, he immediately had to duck back inside to deal with 'a little problem'. More like a very large, very hard, and very obvious problem.
Still, he enjoyed your company more than he had for the better part of his time living in the compound. He listened to your stories, your jokes, helped solve your issues. He felt that - even if you weren't quite what he wanted you to be - your relationship was blossoming into something quite beautiful. And that made him feel a lot braver - he introduced a little comment here and there, a hand always on your waist or the small of your back. He flirted with you from time to time: just to gauge a meter on your reactions, he'd tell himself, as if this was an experiment to crack a hypothesis that had been perplexing scientists for years.
The sun was peaking over the top of the trees surrounding the compound when you woke up. That was a rarity in summer, given that the sun rose at nearly 5am. Still, you didn't miss out on the opportunity to watch the sunrise, curling up on your windowsill with your blanket wrapped tightly around your shoulders.
You heard Bucky opening his door, and you ran towards yours, grabbing your phone and slippers on your way. You opened your door just as he closed his. He was dressed in gym wear - as always - since he was going on his morning run around the compound track. It was a nice track - one that you rarely frequented - going in and out of the forest behind the compound, totalling about 4.5 miles in distance.
He took you in, eyes bulging as they raked over you. You looked down, following his gaze. Shit. In your rush to see Bucky, you'd forgotten that your nightwear had consisted of some flimsy shorts and your bra - that you had thrown on after waking up to save a modicum of dignity, should someone burst into your room. It was too hot for anything else. You crossed your arms over your chest, which indefinitely made the issue worse as Bucky's eyes lifted way over your head.
"Looking good, babe!" Nat yells, walking across the landing toward you both. Clearly, Bucky had been intending to go on a run with her, maybe fit in a quick sparring session. You sent them on their way, with a 'have fun' and 'don't have too much fun.'
As soon as you were back in the comfort of your room, Nat elbowed Bucky hard.
"Oww! What the fuck was that for?" Rubbing his metal arm, for the convincing act.
"Oh please, you big baby. You have a fucking metal arm, get over yourself." She looked down, "You have a bit of a situation going on down there."
He looks down, embarrassment flushing his cheeks bright red, and subtly tucked his hard dick into his waistband.
"You wanna go sort that out? I won't hold it against you," Nat said, hitting the button to call the lift, "I promise not to tell Stark. Scout's honour." She jokingly holds up 3 fingers. Bucky swats her arm gently.
"No point."
Nat gasps, "No way. Don't tell me Mr. Winter Soldier can't have sex."
"Not sex," Bucky mumbles, "Just jerking off. Can't seem to - you know - finish."
Bucky had a history with Nat. They'd known each other for years. That kind of history made this kind of conversation somewhat less uncomfortable.
Nat burst into laughter. So much for not being uncomfortable.
The lift stopped on Sam's floor. He stepped in, gazing warily at the scene in front of him: the Black Widow doubled over in laughter, and the Winter Soldier embarrassed and uncomfortable in the corner.
He begged to be let in on the joke. Nat wheezed between laughs, "He - can't - fucking - cum!" Bursting into another bout of laughter, with Sam close behind, Bucky jumps out on the next floor, heading to the roof for some fresh air. He catches you up there, trying out some morning yoga. He sneaks up behind you as your stand up, grabbing your waist. You shriek, hitting him hard in the chest, before melting into his embrace once your brain caught up to the situation.
"Not fair!" You pouted, pausing your peaceful music, "Yoga's supposed to be peaceful!"
Bucky chuckles, pulling you into another hug, feeling you wrap your arms around his neck.
"I thought you were going on a run with Nat?" You whispered into his ear, your cheek resting on his clavicle.
"She ditched me for Sam." Bucky opted to leave out the real reason why he had left Nat and Sam in pieces in the elevator.
"Sucks to be you, Barnes!" You laugh pulling away and stepping back onto your mat. "Now leave me alone - just 'cause your friends abandoned you, doesn't mean you can bother me."
Bucky pouted, causing you to laugh before you turned back to your Yoga. He stood there and watched you for a minute, before heading back down to the gym. He strung up a punching bag, before wrapping his flesh wrist. Bucky took all his pent-up aggression and frustration out on the punching bag, allowing no respite between each jab, cross, and hook.
He stayed in the gym for over 3 hours, working every bit of stress out of his body. By the time he left the gym, the sun was high in the sky and a long day of paperwork and training awaited. Bucky headed up to his room for a quick shower - washing all the sweat off his body.
He felt lighter heading downstairs for breakfast - the weight of his arousal pushed far back in his mind. There was nothing he could do about it anyway.
Since deciding he would pursue you honestly, he couldn't seem to finish, no matter how hard he tried. You had been the only thing to push him over the edge - it seemed his body couldn't do it without you. It was frustrating beyond belief. He'd tried other things, porn, erotica, even thinking back to good times before the war. Nothing helped. It was as if his body was finetuned to you - only you knew the magic password to release him. Figuratively and literally.
When he reached the kitchen, he was privy to a welcome sight. You, in your combat gear, grabbing some granola bars before you jumped on the quinjet. You and Stark were heading on a surveillance mission in Guatemala for the week. You were reaching up to the top shelf, stretching on your tiptoes for the expensive granolas that had been kept on the top shelf. Bucky's granola bars that he had put there to stop anyone else from stealing them.
He reached up from behind you and grabbed the box, placing it in your hands. You looked guilty. You'd been caught red-handed.
"It's fine, doll. Take as many as you want." He said, leaning back against the counter, resting on his forearms. Your face flushed red as you grabbed 2 or 3, shoving them into your bag and turning around to fill up your water bottle.
You shivered when his hot breath fanned across your exposed neck, "Just remember that you owe me."
He was gone by the time you turned around.
The rumour had spread like wildfire while you were away.
"Did you hear that Bucky can't have sex?"
"I heard that Bucky can't - you know - cum?"
"Apparently, his time at Hydra fucked him up worse than he realised."
"He can't even masturbate you know?"
The rumours were getting out of hand, but he let them swirl. There was an ounce of truth to them, even if Hydra had nothing to do with his current predicament.
No, that blame could only lie with you.
When you got back, Bucky had just left on a 4-day-long mission with Sam - which meant you heard all the rumours and Bucky wasn't there to defend himself.
You heard it first when you dropped your suit off for dry-cleaning. One of the tech guys was whispering to Marta, the woman who looked after the dry cleaning of suits, about Bucky's apparent inability to ejaculate. You were shocked. Where the hell did they even get that information? You dropped off your suit and headed back up to your room to shower.
You then heard another mention of it when you went to drop off your reports. Two of the agents that were being reassigned to Steve's team - that were currently on a month-long mission in Chad - were gossiping outside Tony's office.
" - and apparently she ran out crying. Thought she wasn't good enough for him or something along those lines. I don't know."
"Yeah, apparently the breakup was grizzly."
"I feel bad for him you know, all of the shit he went through with Hydra, and now this?"
"Yeah, man, really sucks."
Your face blushed a bright red. What the fuck? Where did this rumour even come from? You knew for a fact that Bucky hadn't had a girlfriend since living in the compound so wherever that part of the rumour came from was completely untrue.
You had to get to the bottom of this.
You spent the better part of the next 2 days collecting bits of information from conversations between people around the compound. You found out that the rumour had originated from a conversation between Nat and Sam, which an agent had overheard while they were on their run. It had been twisted as most oral stories were leading to this big misleading idea that Bucky was unable to even get it up and that he was unable to please a woman. You were sure the latter part was untrue. You'd heard the way he moaned alone in his room - you were sure that you could cum just from his moans alone. He wouldn't even need to touch you.
You didn't think the rumour would affect you when Bucky got back. After all, you knew at least some of it to be false. But when he got back, his beard grown out a little because he couldn't shave it while he was away, you felt embarrassed. Not because of his supposed 'predicament' but because you felt as if you had found out something that you maybe weren't supposed to know.
Bucky caught on quicker than you would have liked. The night after he got back, Tony had thrown a little get-together to 'celebrate midsummer'. Realistically, Tony just wanted a reason to go out and drink with his friends. You had avoided Bucky most of the night - not necessarily intentionally, but Bucky still felt slightly hurt and more than a little confused.
He caught you alone on the balcony, looking out at the stars.
"Did I do something?" He said, sneaking up behind you and making you jump. Nervousness and insecurity laced his every move, worried that he had hurt you in some way that he couldn't possibly imagine.
You shook your head violently, scared to make eye contact with him. He lifted your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his.
"What's wrong?" You turned back to face the sky, embarrassment filling your chest. He laced his metal fingers into yours, "You know you can tell me anything, right?"
"It's stupid."
"No, it's not. Nothing's stupid, not if it's you." Your heart fluttered at his words.
Your eyes met his steady gaze, "It's really stupid." His eyes begged you to go on, "It's just that - um - when I got back I - um - heardthisreallystupidrumourandIshouldn'thaveletitgettomebutbasically -"
Bucky placed a hand on your waist, drawing small circles, "Breathe."
"Someone said you had trouble pleasing women." You let out quietly. If it hadn't been for his enhanced hearing, he probably would have missed you. His grip on your waist tightened, "Bucky?"
"Trouble pleasing women? That's a new one." His deep voice cut you to your core. You let out a small whimper as the arousal pooled in your panties.
Bucky didn't miss that either.
He grabbed your arm and led you through the party. No one gave you a double look as he lead you into the vacant elevator, slamming your floor number and pushing you up against the wall.
"Think I can't please a woman, huh? Think again. Don't think I don't know what you think about when you cum all over your hand, whining my name under your breath." You whined lowly at his words, feeling how he pushed his hard dick perfectly in line with your throbbing pussy, "Isn't that right, slut? That's what you are, aren't you? My perfect little slut?" You moan at his degrading statement, pushing your pussy further onto his cock trying to find some friction.
"So needy," He tutted, his condescending tone only heightening your arousal. The elevator door pinged and Bucky picked you up bridal-style, kicking the door to your room open. You regularly forgot to lock it while heading down to dinner - for once, both you and Bucky were glad.
He dropped you on your bed, unceremoniously, eyes raking over you ravenously. The heat rose up your face, as you shifted under his unrelenting gaze.
"Oh baby, you don't how long I've been waiting for this." He leaned down locking your lips in a passionate kiss. His palm landed just above your knee, caressing up your leg towards your upper thigh. His hand slid under your dress, cupping your ass. He left a light squeeze, making you gasp into the kiss.
He leaned down, grabbing you with ease, flipping you both so you were straddling his waist. He tangled his flesh hand in your hair, the metal one possessively gripping your hip. He brought you down to his lips for another kiss - even when you were on top, he made sure you knew that he was in charge.
He toyed with the hem of your dress, eyes raking over you once again.
"Off."
You pulled the dress over your head, leaving you in your bra and panties. You felt seriously underdressed, especially considering Bucky was still in his jacket. He reaches up, joining your lips in another kiss, and reaching around to remove your bra. He tosses it to the side, running his knuckles over your pebbled nipples. You moan loudly, panties soaked. He takes his time pinching and squeezing your nipples, licking and biting as he went. The alternate sensations of one warm hand and one ice-cold heighten your arousal ten-fold. You buck your hips over his jeans, the sensation of his fly between your sensitive folds throwing you into overdrive.
His grip on your waist tightened once again. "I can feel your cunt throbbing, honey." You whimpered pathetically. "Go ahead, use me to get off. I know you want to."
Your hips started bucking off their own accord, clothed pussy running over the fly of his jeans. They started slow, getting a feel for what exactly you were doing. Bucky's hands started pushing you faster, setting a faster groove. The coil in your stomach began to tighten as your bucking became more erratic. You teetered on the edge of an orgasm when Bucky stopped you.
"Beg." He restarted your pace, faster and more erratic than before.
"Please, please, please, please, Bucky, please let me cum, please..-" You babbled, tripping and stumbling through your pleas. With a searing kiss, he gives you permission.
"I love you, I love you, I love, OH-" You fall off the edge of one of the hardest orgasms you've ever had, head empty with only one thing on your mind. Bucky.
You feel Bucky manhandle your body so your back is lying on the bed and he is towering over you. He asks you if you want to go on and all you can do is nod your head vigorously.
He chuckles, "I like your enthusiasm baby, but I need words. Can you do that for me?"
"Yes, YES!" You shout, breathlessly, already needing more.
He's fully naked and it's all you can do to not stare. He's definitely a well-endowed man, and he definitely has no problem getting it up.
"Like what you see?" He smirks, and you slap his thigh playfully. He pulls you further toward the edge of the bed and lines his dick up with your slick folds. He slides in slowly, holding your chin up so you keep eye contact with him. He watches as your eyes roll to the back of your head in satisfaction. You've never felt so full in your life. He presses into you slowly, feeling the way your tightness engulfs him, allowing your body to adjust to his size. You whimper softly as he pushes in - you never realised just how desperate you were for him.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" He chuckles, watching as tears leak out of your eyes. His condescending tone was back, and all it did was make you hornier. You babbled incoherently, "Gone dumb already? What a cock-drunk little slut you are."
He trails a metal finger up the side of your torso, watching the goosebumps left in its wake. You whimper again.
"Such a needy little baby. Only I can take care of you like this, right? Only me."
"Only you." You affirmed, pressing a kiss to the arm near your head.
He pulled out almost entirely, before slamming all the way back in. You screamed in pleasure, and Bucky set a brutal pace. He pinned your arms above your head with his right hand, and his left hand came to wrap around your throat. The significance of that was not lost on you. He loved you enough to not hurt you, even with his metal arm.
"I love you, baby. You know that right?" Bucky looked you deep in the eyes, "You know I love you right?"
"I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you," You babble back, lost in the throes of passion.
Bucky found your clit with his metal hand, pressing and flicking gently. You felt your muscles tighten for a second time, and you grabbed the sheets throwing your head back as you came harder than the first time.
Bucky came moments later, deep inside you with a loud moan. He pulled out slowly, collapsing next to you. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling yourself into his neck.
He chuckled at that, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a bear hug. You stayed like that for a minute before he untangled himself from you and carried you to the bathroom.
He turned on the shower and you both stepped under it, cleaning the sweat and cum off your bodies. Your legs felt like jelly, so you leaned heavily into Bucky as he washed you off.
"Stay awake, doll, just for a second," He said, shaking you awake each time you dozed off in the shower.
Bucky pulled some of your clothes onto your body, before setting you down on the bed. He gave you a quick kiss to the forehead before promising to be back soon.
He snuck into his room wrapped in a towel, before throwing on the first pair of sweats he could find and dashing to the kitchen for a cup of water.
He snuck back into your room, to see you already dead asleep on the bed. He slipped under the covers, tugging you closer to his chest, and smiled.
Through your grogginess, you nuzzled into his chest. "I love you." You whispered, your lips resting against his heart.
You woke up to the sound of soft snoring in your ear and sunlight streaming through the window. You smiled. You untangled yourself from Bucky's arms, disappearing into your bathroom to pee. You wash your face and brush your teeth before diving back into Bucky's arms.
Your legs were still sore from last night, but you didn't care. You were Bucky's and Bucky was yours. The very thought put a massive smile on your face.
"What's tickled your feather this morning?" Goddamn, his morning voice was sexy. You smiled and pressed a hard kiss to his lips.
Bucky smiled through the kiss. He picked you up by the thighs, carrying you while he brushed his teeth and splashed his face.
The compound was pretty silent, barely anyone was awake after drinking the night away. So, while Bucky made you pancakes for breakfast, you asked him the question, "Hey, Buck, where did the rumour come from?"
He looked at you, vaguely embarrassed, "You know that day, when me and Nat were gonna go down to train?"
You face flushed red, "When I walked out in my underwear?"
"Yeah," he chuckled, "I got a hard-on, like a teenage boy."
You stifled a laugh.
"So, Nat said, do I wanna go deal with it? And I told her I couldn't."
You looked at him confused, "Why not?"
"Cause of you," he said simply. You looked at him even more confused, "You were the only thing I got get off to. I tried everything else. Porn, erotica, even thinking about old sex. Nothing worked."
You flushed red again. "Oh god, I've weirded you out, haven't I?" You broke off his impending spiral with a kiss.
"I love you." You said, placing a kiss on his bare chest.
He looked at you with such love and reverence that you felt like you might combust under his gaze.
He kissed you again and all you could think was, "I love you, I love you, I love you."
I love you, I love you, I love you.
I love you I love you I love you.
#bucky barnes fluff#bucky x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes#bucky angst#bucky x y/n#bucky x you#bucky fic#bucky fluff#bukcy barnes#bucky x female reader#winter soldier#bucky imagine#bucky smut
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fall in love with me (this christmas) ✧.* h.hj
➳ PAIRING: hyunjin x fem!reader
➳ GENRE: fluff, mild angst, best friends to lovers, christmas
➳ WARNINGS: mild language, mentions of food, hyunjin is tipsy in one part (he and reader are ‘00 or ‘01 tho so they’re legal), UNEDITED (will be fully edited by new years) UPDATE: fully edited as of jan. 19, 2024
➳ WORD COUNT: 22.9k (final wc after editing)
➳ SUMMARY: hyunjin has one last chance to have a college christmas romance and he’ll do anything to have it—even if it means fake-dating his best friend. (inspired by "cold december night" by michael buble)
➳ NOTES: MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!! 🎄❄️ i hope you have/had an amazing day with love ones and good food! this fic is my christmas collab with my bestie @ujimoo :3 some parts r kind of rough bc we didn't fully edit yet but i hope y'all enjoy <3
network tags: @kflixnet @straykidsland-main @kwritersworld
prologue.
– halloween.
You didn’t think the night could get any worse.
The night started from the moment you caught a whiff of beer, sweat, and Dior Sauvage as Hyunjin dragged you by the hand to ‘Jackson’s 2023 Annual Hallo-Wang Party’. You could think of a thousand other ways you wanted to spend your Halloween that didn’t involve being stuck here, but you lost a bet with Chan, so you don’t exactly have a choice.
So here you are, sitting in the kitchen with your now-ruined costume sticking to your skin, thanks to someone (Jeongin) spilling his tequila on you when you were playing beer pong. Now, not only is your head throbbing from the smell of frat party, but you have an ugly pink blotch on the costume you took weeks to put together.
You nurse whatever the concoction of alcohol is the punch when Hyunjin, too tipsy for his own good, slides up next to you and rests his chin on your shoulder.
“Y/NNN~…” he sighs, wrapping his arms around your waist. “There you are!”
Fighting against his hold on you, you’re finally able to get his hands away from your waist, only for him to wrap his arms around your arm like a lost child.
“Why don’t you love me?” he mumbles, hiccuping at the end of his sentence. “Do you hate me?”
A smile tugs at your lips as you turn to look at your best friend. His blond hair falls in front of his eyes as he stares at you. “Of course.”
His nose scrunches in disgust and he shakes his head as your laughter surrounds him. It somehow makes him feel lighter than all of the alcohol he’s drunk combined.
“You’re so mean, why would you say that?” he whines. He grabs your arm tighter and shoves his head on your shoulder.
Exhaling, you pat his head lightly before resting your head on his. It’s like the world goes silent for a moment as you run your fingers through his hair.
You’re both like that for an uncertain amount of time before Hyunjin jumps back up, his arms still around your arm. A large tipsy smile creeps on his face and he suddenly begins to giggle. The way his eyes light up almost makes you do the same.
“I think Jisoo is going to ask me out~” He sighs dreamily. “I feel the vibes, you can feel it too, right?”
You catch the way two of your friends, Changbin and Jisung, are watching you from the kitchen door. Sticking your tongue out at them, they return it with winks, eyeing up both you and Hyunjin.
You turn back to the giggly blond clinging to your arm and shrug. “I’m not sure. I don’t really see her around campus.”
You’re not trying to sound like you’re completely disinterested in what Hyunjin’s saying, but when you already know where it’s heading, you can’t help it. You’re not really sure Hyunjin is even listening though when he sighs to himself and tugs on your arm again.
“This is—” tug. “My chance—” tug. “For my Christmas romance, Y/Nie.” A harder tug. “I can feel it in the air!” Aggressive shaking.
Breaking your arm away from him, you huff. Can’t you have one night before Hyunjin’s constant babbling about Christmas and Christmas romances?
“Can we wait till after Halloween to talk about Christmas, please?” you groan, causing Hyunjin to sneer at you.
“Why do you have to be such a Grinch?” he attempts to whisper—but his intoxicated brain has other ideas.
You attempt to ignore the feeling of his arms sneakily slipping around your waist again and the way his head seems to fit into the dip of your shoulder as you sigh.
“Ask me about it again tomorrow.”
…
You really didn’t think the night could get any worse. But after corralling Hyunjin, who could barely stand on his own, back to his dorm, you were proven wrong. So, so wrong.
When you finally untangle yourself from his hold and hand him off to his poor roommate, Felix, it’s 11:58pm. Normally, you wouldn’t care to watch the clock for something so mundane, but you had a feeling he was going to text you the minute you look away.
And sure enough, the second you leave Hyunjin’s dorm building, you feel your phone vibrate in your hoodie pocket.
Hyunnie : it’s november 1st
Hyunnie : it’s christmas time bitch!!
Hyunnie : ah
Hyunnie : sorry for calling you a bitch…
Hyunnie : i got excited TT
You can only roll your eyes fondly. At least it’s November now.
one.
– november 1st.
Hyunjin feels sticky.
Every year he rejoices at the start of the Christmas season, but every year he also forgets that the start is the one part he hates. The morning is so nice and icy-cold, everything sweater weather should be. But by midday… the sweater has to come off. Then he’s sweating in places he shouldn’t be, he’s itching all over, and he’s all grumpy and gross and he just wants to shower twenty times to try and rid himself of the feeling of his clothes clinging to his skin.
He can see his breath just past his nose as he tries to rid his shoes of the mush that is the remains of fallen leaves. He knows he shouldn’t have worn his pristine white sneakers that you had gotten him for his birthday earlier that year (ones that he, not to mention, cleans frantically after every use). But they go so well with his dark grey jeans that he had to! The things he does for his passion for fashion…
When Jisoo first messaged him asking to meet up by the trees, it felt like a dream come true, one he’s been waiting for for so long. But now that he’s here, he’s not sure how long he’s been waiting, but he feels like he’s a Sim with stink lines coming off of him and he wants to scream. His controller must hate him because nothing is going as he planned.
So when he finally sees Jisoo in the distance, he lets out a sigh of relief. He sees her try and keep her bag on her shoulder as she rushes over. When she’s finally in front of him, with strands of hair stuck to her face, her mouth slightly open as she tries to catch her breath… all Hyunjin does is blink.
If you had asked him a week ago, he would have found this adorable. He would have screamed in her face and pinched her cheeks, before running to his dorm and spamming your texts about how Jisoo is the cutest girl he’s ever seen and how his heart has never beaten as fast as it does around her.
But now he’s standing there, with the love of his life right in front of him, and he feels… wrong. There’s murky puddles and soggy leaves surrounding his and Jisoo’s feet, an angry draft blows past his ears as he tries to read Jisoo’s lips, and a stifling blanket that’s the same dirty shade of grey as his dryer lint trap smothers him from overhead. Nothing feels right, he feels icky, and his heart is fluttering for all the wrong reasons. All he wants to do is run off into the sunset, and not with her.
He barely even hears her as the whole world moves in fast forward while he stands there completely still. And he doesn’t even remember what he says before he walks away, his shoulder brushing against Jisoo’s in the process. He doesn’t even turn back when he hears her call out to him multiple times.
He’s sure that when he tells you his over-dramatised version of what he assumes was Jisoo’s confession, you’ll do your exaggerated laugh that makes you snort and then complain that you snorted. You’ll look at him in a way that screams ‘I told you so,’ and he hates it so much that he considers not telling you at all.
But even he knows he’s a blabbermouth and as soon as he lays his eyes on you, the words will fall out of his mouth before he even has a chance to think.
So he goes to the nearest pizza place by your dorm, and he orders your usual: half cheese, half pepperoni. You’re too indecisive to pick just one, so you get both. He orders his own pizza too and he sits and waits, stripping himself of his scarf and his hat before shoving it into his backpack and playing around with his hair, trying to get it to look right before his order is called.
When he’s finally outside your door, he doesn’t bother to knock—he walks straight in and calls out for you. You rush out of your room, an oversized hoodie covering your frame with your hood up.
“Damn it, Hyun, can’t you call before you show up uninvited?” you huff, instantly eyeing up the pizzas. “What would you have done if I wasn’t here?”
Hyunjin shrugs. He knows there’s no way you’d be anywhere else. Your friends are his friends and they’re all in class or with their own significant others… not that that matters…
He hands you your own pizza and smiles at the way you smile when you fall onto the couch and stuff the first slice into your mouth. A muffled ‘thank you’ somehow escapes your lips. Gulping it down, you wipe your mouth with your sleeve, causing Hyunjin to curl his lip in disgust.
“Why are you here, anyway?” you ask before tearing off another bite of pizza.
“No reason.” He’s trying his best to do a Mary-Kate and Ashley and keep his lips sealed, but it’s no use.
You just blink at him until the dam finally bursts.
“Jisoo confessed to me and I turned her down.”
Still blinking, you furrow your eyebrows as you look at him in confusion. “But… isn’t that what you wanted?”
Hyunjin keeps his eyes locked on the pizza slice he’s playing with aimlessly instead of actually eating. He can’t even explain how he’s feeling. He wanted, no, dreamed of the perfect confession, and he blew his chance. Because of… bad vibes? How do you even explain that?
“I… I don’t know,” he mumbles. He sighs, dropping the pizza box on his lap as he throws his head back against the couch to look up at the ceiling. “It just…” He pauses. “It wasn’t what I thought it would be.”
“Is a confession ever going to be perfect, though?”
Hyunjin sits up instantly at the question. The way he moves so suddenly makes you jump, but he doesn’t mean to scare you. He’s just very… passionate… about the subject. ‘Passionate’ may not be enough to describe it.
“Of course it can be!” He has to stop himself from blabbing too much. He’s sure you’re tired of hearing his speeches about this, so he just gives you the short version. “It’s the biggest moment of any relationship! With the right person, it’s always going to be perfect. Like, you know in your heart when it’s right, and…” he sighs, “I didn’t feel that.”
He looks at you, and you nod. “Then… maybe you didn’t like her as much as you thought you did?”
Hyunjin falls against the couch again. His voice comes out as a whine this time, “But that was my last chance at a Christmas romance!”
Is he being dramatic? Maybe a little, Hyunjin figures. He’s just lucky it’s you he’s ranting to, because the most you do in response to this is huff and give him a look. If it was one of mutual friends, they would have slapped some sense into him by now. Metaphorically, at least… hopefully.
“This isn’t your last chance at a Christmas romance, you know that right?” you say. “You’re acting like this is your last Christmas, period.”
He sinks somehow further into the couch. “Okay, fine.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “My last college Christmas romance.”
“You didn’t have one last year? Why does it matter now?” you ask, reaching once more for your pizza.
“Because it’s our final year!! That’s kind of the point of it being the final chance, Y/N.”
Hyunjin knows you mean well, but you rolling your eyes at him as you shove another bite into your mouth isn’t helping his plight. He can’t help but frown at you, though, not only because of your reaction, but now because you’re talking with your mouth full.
“Here’s an idea,” you gulp down some of the pizza stuffed in your cheeks, “just fake it till you make it. Get someone to fake date you.”
It takes a second for Hyunjin to process what you say. But when he does, he gasps loudly and sits up even faster than last time. He turns and grabs hold of your shoulders so fast that it takes all of your force not to fall backwards.
“You���re a genius!”
You smirk, shrugging your shoulders. “I know. No need to remind me.”
The look of disgust returns and Hyunjin slowly moves his hands away from your shoulders like you just infected him with something. “Don’t make me regret saying that.”
“We both know it’s true, though.”
“I hate you.”
“I hate me too.”
He ignores your self-degrading comment and sighs. His arms find their way to cross themselves over his chest once more and he thinks to himself for a minute. He has a world of possibilities at his fingertips, but he knows exactly what he wants to do. Just… he doesn’t know how to say it. Might as well just rip the bandaid.
“So when’s our first fake date?”
You cough out whatever pizza you had left in your mouth and it takes you a moment to catch your breath again. When you finally have a moment to breathe, you look at Hyunjin. “Our what?!”
Hyunjin simply blinks at you. He just asked the most obvious question in the world, and you’re looking at him like you just asked him to solve a derivative. He doesn’t even remember what that is.
You motion for him to continue, but he’s still blinking. “What?” he says.
“When I suggested fake dating someone, I didn’t mean me!”
“Of course it has to be you!” he frantically tries to explain. “I-I can’t just ask a random person to fake date me when I have no idea who they are!”
“So you just assume I’d say ‘yes’?!”
“Oh, come on, please!” he begs, actually getting down on the floor in front of you. He links his hands together as he whips out his best puppy dog eyes.
He waits and goes still and keeps giving you that cartoonish pleading stare. Then, you sigh.
“I feel like I get nothing out of this. You get your fake Christmas romance and what do I get? A fake boyfriend I didn’t ask for?”
He goes still again. He thinks hard about anything that will get you to agree. He’ll pull out the big guns, if he has to. And that’s what he does, and based on the terrified look on your face, he’s sure he has a crazed gleam in his eyes when he says it.
“I’ll never complain about not having or finding a Christmas romance again!”
Hyunjin can’t believe he said that. You stare at him, he’s staring at you. He’s sure you don’t believe him.
“Come on!” he huffs. “Don’t look at me like that!”
“You can’t keep anything to yourself, you really believe you’d be able to keep that?”
Hyunjin nods frantically.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he hears you mutter before looking him in the eyes. “Fine. I’ll do it.”
Hyunjin’s up in another flash, pushing you with all his weight against the couch as he hugs you even tighter.
“THANK YOU!! You’re the best!!”
And in the next moment, he’s standing, his hand out for you to take. “Let's go!” A confident beam is plastered on his face. He can’t say the same for you.
“Huh?”
You just keep staring at his outstretched hand. Knowing you’re not going to move, Hyunjin just huffs and grabs your hand, pulling you to the front door.
“On our first date, decorating your dorm!!”
“HUH?!”
—
As you walk through the store, Hyunjin has his fingers entwined with yours so tightly that you almost think he’s cutting off blood flow. It’s almost as if he was afraid you’d change your mind and disappear if he let go.
He beelines towards the Christmas decorations. You don’t know why he insisted on buying more when you still have the stuff that he made you get last year—you just forgot where you put it. But you live in a tiny college dorm, so it’s not like you had many places to look.
It’s whatever, you guess. You don't bother to question what’s going through his mind right now. It won’t end well if you do.
Hyunjin’s other hand is pushing an extra large cart you're sure you don’t need, but he got it anyway. He can’t possibly be thinking of filling up the whole cart, can he? You live in a college dormitory. Only so much can fit.
After what seems like a lifetime, you’re both in front of the Christmas decorations. With his hand still stuck to yours like glue, he starts to examine each set of decorations with his other hand, holding it up close to his eyes as if he doesn’t have perfect vision.
“What are you doing?” you ask.
“Checking,” he mutters, placing a box of lights back down on the shelf before picking up another one.
“Checking for…?”
He huffs, drops his shoulders, and stares at you with nothing behind his eyes. “The perfect lights. They shouldn’t be broken and we need to know they’ll shine bright enough.”
“They’re lights, Hyun,” you respond simply. “It doesn’t matter if they’re perfect or not.”
Pushing your lips into a line, you stare at each other in silence for a moment or two—honestly, you’re not too sure how long the moment actually is. Hyunjin just looks away, placing the box of lights back onto the shelf.
“You’re relying too much on everything being perfect.”
You feel the way his grip tightens around your hand. He stays silent, picking up another box of lights before placing them in the shopping cart. “These are perfect,” he says, ignoring your words. “We should get these.”
He pushes the cart further down whilst dragging you along in the process. Picks up another set of lights, checks them, and puts them down, before repeating this a few times before he’s happy with the one he’s decided on. He does this for many of the tinsel, for some random ornaments, and for random chocolates and candy canes to hang on the tree.
You’re fiddling on your phone when he tugs on your hand, causing you to look up at him. In his free hand are two mini stuffed animal ornaments. He’s gazing at them with a look in his eyes you can’t quite place.
“It’s us.” His eyes find yours. There’s a softness to his voice that compliments the warm smile he gives you. “We should get them… they’re perfect.”
This time, you squeeze his hand back. His smile infects you, and you’re unable to do anything but return it. Nodding, you return your gaze back to the two little stuffed ornaments. “They are perfect… like us.”
“There’s that smile I missed so much!” he says sarcastically.
“Aaaand moment ruined.”
You tug at his hand, trying to get them to finally unlink. The sweat forming in between them is getting a bit much.
“You can’t escape from me that easily,” Hyunjin says with a smoulder.
“Ew,” you fake gag. “You’ve been hanging out with Jisung too much. Only he makes the fuckboy thing work, bestie.”
“Bestie- zoned?” Hyunjin gasps, his over-dramatic look you’re so accustomed to taking over his features. “I thought I was your boyfriend?”
Your smile drops and you want to smack him and his teasing into next week. “FAKE boyfriend.”
He turns from you as he hisses to you or himself—you’re not really sure which—before he pulls you further down the aisle.
“You’re no fun.”
two.
– november 3rd.
Looking around your dorm makes you want to throw up.
After Hyunjin took you (read: dragged you) shopping the other day, the boy immediately took the bags of stuff to your dorm and started plastering the stuff everywhere. Now, the room is filled to the brim with golden lights and colourful tinsel, and your little desk tree was just as flashy. Considering that your space is a tiny college dorm, it makes the space feel a bit suffocating, but not unenjoyable.
You fear Hyunjin took “deck the halls” a little too far and that your dorm will catch on fire because of it, not just because of the three separate Christmas candles Hyunjin insisted on buying, but also because of how dangerously close they were to the tinsel. You wonder what your roommate, Yeri, would say about this. Actually, you’re not entirely sure when you last saw her.
You aren’t able to dwell much longer on the thought as a knock followed by a crash and yelp pulls you out of your own head. You hurry to the door and open it to find none other than your Christmas menace, Hyunjin, sprawled on his butt in front of you. Bags with what appear to be baking ingredients are spread all over the ground around him.
“Hey~” is the only thing he says, a sheepish smile on his face, as you stare at him incredulously.
“What’s all this?”
“It’s…” he starts as you help him up, then trails off once he’s upright. He bends down to pick up a bag of chocolate chips by his feet, then he looks at you and holds them out proudly. “…Our next date!”
You roll your eyes fondly at the boy. Of course, he already thought up a second date idea so soon. Knowing him, he’s probably been planning this since he got home after the first date.
But still, you can’t help but crack a smile. Baking cookies seems like a fun little fake date—after all, it’s hard to make Christmas cookies into some sappy Hallmark scene. Plus, you get to keep half the batch at the end.
What could go wrong?
As you help pick up the rest of the ingredients off the floor, you notice a neatly folded piece of paper fall out of Hyunjin’s pocket. You stick it in your pocket before placing a milk carton and a brown sugar pack on the kitchen island, then you take out and unfold the paper, squinting as you read it.
“Is this… Felix’s recipe?” you say. The distinct way he loops his ‘Y’s gives it away for you.
“N… No…” Hyunjin tries to convince you, but his statement comes out as more of a question than a definitive answer.
You give him another incredulous look.
“Okay, fine, it is!” he huffs, throwing his head back dramatically. “I begged him for the recipe so we could try to make it together. His cookies always come out great, so it can’t be that hard!” He grins confidently, but that facade quickly fades. “…Right?”
A smile returns to your lips. “Right! Yeah!” You’re afraid your smile looks more nervous than confident, though. “Totally…”
“We can do it! I think…”
Hyunjin laughs a little, and you follow too, even if it feels somewhat forced.
“And if we fail, we’ll just get the store-bought ones!” he adds. “Easy as pie.” A small smile dances on his lips. “Anything for my favourite girlfriend~” he sings, winking at you playfully.
Any hint of your smile, real or not, drops at the sentence.
“Fake girlfriend.”
“Potayto, potahto. Now help me with the batter.”
…
“Are you sure you’re doing this right?” you say.
Instead of jumping into baking right away, you and Hyunjin have spent the past ten minutes overwhelmed over the instructions Felix provided. It’s not that they’re difficult or anything—fifteen steps to make some cookies just feels like a lot.
Especially to two beginners, one of which is struggling to cut a one-pound stick of butter in half with a cleaver. You’re left to watch Hyunjin nearly slice his fingers as he tries, a near-grimace twisted on your face.
“I got it, I got it!” Hyunjin grunts as he tries to push the cleaver down. “Almost… there…”
The way his fingers are so dangerously close to the blade makes you wince. After another moment, you can’t take watching him anymore.
“Oh my god, give me the knife.”
In hindsight, it was probably a bad idea to shoo Hyunjin away from the cleaver while he’s holding it for dear life. Knowing him, he could’ve found a way to cut himself even after he let go. Luckily, you both remain unscathed and you successfully cut the butter in half.
“What’s next?” Hyunjin asks as he watches you cut one of the halves. He peeks at the recipe over your shoulder.
You scan the paper for the next step, moving it quickly so he can see, too. “Looks like the… dry ingredients? We can start with the flour, I guess.”
“Flour…”
Hyunjin hums along with “Santa Tell Me” by Ariana Grande as he digs through the ingredient pile on the island. You glance up and find yourself giggling at the silly hand gestures he makes.
“Flour coming right…” he announces, letting out a grunt as he lifts the giant bag, “…up!”
You set the cleaver aside and rush to help him carry the bag. “Why’d you buy the ten kilogram bag?!”
“I didn’t know how much we needed!” He lets out a dramatic huff once you both get the bag on a stool.
“I’m pretty sure a normal-sized bag would have been enough, Hyun.”
“Look,” Hyunjin huffs again and runs a hand through his hair, “I’ve learned from Felix, alright? This is serious cookie and movie date business and we can’t make mistakes.”
Fake cookie date.
“But there’s going to be mistakes, that’s just how it is.” You shrug, carefully opening the bag, then letting out a sigh as a lump of flour falls out onto the floor. “Just think, Felix’s recipes weren’t perfect straight away—”
Hyunjin cuts you off with a gasp. A hand flies over his heart as he stares at you with betrayal. “Excuse you, they’ve always been great. You’re lucky I wouldn’t tell him you said that.”
You decide not to say anything else, but get the flour ready to sieve into the mixture. “Do you want to do this or I?”
Even though he still has too much energy, he gently pushes you out of the way and takes the sieve from your hands. “Me, me, me.”
Without bothering to do anything else, he takes a handful of flour and dumps it into a sieve and starts tapping at the side of it.
“Hyunjin!” you gasp, “We could at least measure it first!”
“Live a little, Y/N!” Hyunjin sways to the music. “You said nothing has to be perfect right away! I’m trying to follow your advice.”
You blink, half-laughing, half-scoffing. “I didn’t mean to not follow the recipe! We still have to, you know.”
Hyunjin doesn’t say anymore, he just continues to sieve the flour into the bowl. However, by the bridge of the song, he’s so into it that he’s nearly forgotten what he’s doing. While he goes on autopilot, the flour soon enough misses the bowl entirely and lands on the kitchen counter and over his shoes.
“Oops,” he giggles.
“I’m baking with a child,” you mutter to yourself, arms crossed over your chest.
He picks up another handful of the flour and looks down at the mixture before looking over at you. He stares at you, you stare at him. It’s like a silent battle.
“Don’t you dare.”
He does dare. However, instead of throwing it at you, he throws it up; and instead of landing on you directly, it falls lightly to the floor, just barely falling into your socks. He grins and a giggle escapes his lips.
Whatever self-control you have leaves you at that moment and you grab your own handful of flour. As you step forward, he steps back, causing you to raise an eyebrow.
“You’re not scared… are you?” you question.
He scoffs. “Me? Scared?” He fakes a cackle. “Never!”
You take another step forward. He takes another back.
“So you wouldn’t mind if I—”
Rushing forward, you push your hand into his cheek, letting the flour fall from your hand and over him. Some of the remnants left on his cheek fall as he huffs.
“That’s it.” He grabs another scoop. “You’re on.”
You have exactly two seconds to decide what to do before Hyunjin stalks toward you, a mischievous grin on his face and handful of flour held high. You turn and start to scramble away from him right as he pounces, trying to grab you so he can dump the flour on your head.
“What’s wrong, Y/N?” He giggles tauntingly. “Don’t you want a hug from your loving boyfriend~?”
“Fake boyfriend!” you call over your shoulder.
Trying desperately not to trip, you make a mad dash for the living room, Hyunjin’s cackles ring in your ears as he bounds closer. You get two more big steps in and just as you’re about to leap for the couch, a strong arm wraps itself around your middle and pulls you back.
“Got you~” Hyunjin’s voice is right next to your ear and you can practically hear him smirking in victory. You wriggle around, trying to free yourself but it’s to no avail.
You’re able to turn just enough to face him and send him the glare he deserves. He just faces you, narrowing his eyes for a second, then that look falls to a more disapproving one.
“Are you ready to follow the recipe now?” the boy asks sassily.
You want to smack his pretty face so bad.
“I hate you.”
…
Surprisingly, Hyunjin keeps his word and actually follows Felix’s recipe, word-for-word. You’re happy with how the balls of cookie dough turned out, even though you just placed them in the oven—and don’t tell Hyunjin, but you ate a bit of the dough. It’s too good.
“And now we wait twelve minutes,” you declare as you start a timer on your phone. You leave it on the island and head over to the living room.
You watch, baffled, as Hyunjin spreads out tattered-looking physical copies of a bunch of Christmas movies over your coffee table. Once they’ve landed in a heap, he turns back and looks at you, the same way a dog does when it thinks it's done something incredible.
To say you’re confused as to why he brought over DVDs when you could just rent the movies online is an understatement. Especially when he knew full well that you somehow had access to Chan’s Netflix account—you hacked it, but is it really hacking when his password is ilovefelix143?
Hyunjin’s eyebrows basically merge. Instead of being a little happy puppy, he’s now like a puppy with his tail stuck between his legs. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Your eyes shift from him to the movies and back.
“You…” sigh. “You know we have Netflix, right?”
“That’s not the same thing,” he whines. “And you know it! The vibe will be totally off if we watch them all on Netflix!”
You might as well be a fan of BlackPink because all you can do is blink. “And it won’t be if we watch them on DVD?”
Rising his fist, Hyunjin grabs your shoulder to shake you lightly. As you attempt to push him away, his grip somehow gets tighter.
“Just pick,” shake. “one to,” he tugs your arm. “ start with!”
“Alright!” You huff, flailing your arms around to finally get him to drop his grip. You point in a random direction. “That one!”
It’s his turn to blink. “You’re not pointing at shit and you know it.”
…
With a movie finally picked out, the title screen theme of The Muppets’ Christmas Carol begins to repeat as Hyunjin is in the kitchen getting the cookies out of the oven. However, after the fifth repeat, you’re ready to pull your hair strand by strand from your head.
“Are you almost ready?!” you call out to him. “This music is driving me insane!”
Part of you wants to complain more, but you bite your tongue. It could’ve been worse—it could’ve been the theme of When Harry Met Sally on repeat.
Hyunjin appears at the door, tray in hand. “You can’t really go mad if you’re already there.”
If it wasn’t a threat to the precious cookies currently residing in the tray in his hands, you would have thrown every pillow on this couch at him.
“You say I’m mean to you, but then this is how you treat me!” You gasp, watching as he rolls his eyes.
You catch the way his lip turns up into a smirk when he sets down the tray of cookies on the coffee table.
“I’m so sorry my precious girlfriend, whom I care so deeply about, how can I ever repay you?”
It’s go time. Grabbing the pillow, you aim and whack him over and over as he falls onto the couch, his arms up in protest, but his laughter is still loud enough to seep into your ears. “Not the face! I’m too beautiful to die this young!”
“I,” whack. “hate,” you huff and raise the pillow above your head. “you,” whack. “so much!”
He somehow grabs the pillow, pulling it towards him. But with his strength, he accidentally pulls you forward, causing you to fall onto his chest. Like on instinct, his arms wrap around you tightly to stop you from falling off of the couch.
You feel his breath on your ear as he lets out a chuckle and it makes a tingle run up your spine.
“I know you love me.”
You’re up in a flash, using all of your strength to push him off of the couch and onto the floor.
“AHH!!!”
You snicker at the loud shriek Hyunjin makes. Plopping your bum on the couch, you shoot your fake boyfriend a petty stare as you reach for a cookie and, very slowly, take a huge bite.
Holy shit. You’ve never tasted a cookie so good before. The way the gooey, melty goodness dances in your mouth is so addictive, you barely notice Hyunjin giving you a death glare from the floor.
“What?” you say with your mouth full, reaching for the remote.
“That’s supposed to be our batch,” he sneers nasally, as if he’s Squidward himself. You try not to spit out the food in your mouth.
“Not anymore.” You point the remote at the TV and hit ‘play’. “You can get the next batch.”
three.
– november 10th.
“Can we let go for a bit?” you mumble, causing Hyunjin to look at you. “My hand is getting sweaty.”
“Oh, sorry,” Hyjnjin gasps, looking down at your hands. He lets go and rubs his palm against his jeans to wipe off the stickiness that has formed.
“Why are we holding hands so early, anyway?” you ask. “I know we’re telling the guys we’re ‘dating’ today, but they’re not even here yet.”
Hyunjin blinks at you, takes your hand again, and entwines your fingers. “Because we have to make it look believable from a distance.”
You try not to laugh. “You think they’ll even notice if we’re holding hands?”
He shrugs, locking eyes with the student worker that’s staring in your general direction. He attempts to follow their gaze. It seems like they’re looking at his and your hands. They could also just be waiting for the microwave oven to ding so they can serve someone their bagel. You never know, though.
“I mean,” he gestures to the cafe worker, “if that person notices, then our friends probably will.”
You raise an eyebrow. “I don’t think that person cares.”
“For Hyunjin?” another cafe worker calls.
With your hand still in his, Hyunjin gently pulls you with him to pick up a freshly-made sandwich for you, and bagel for him. He mumbles a ‘thank you’ before grabbing some napkins and heading for the seating area, scooting past students to the table for four he set his backpack on to call dibs. When the college cafe is always packed for lunch, claiming a table was more than necessary.
Hyunjin presses a finger to his chin as he thinks of where to sit, which chair will allow him optimal coupley vibes. After a moment of contemplation, he chooses one of the seats right by the window.
This prompts you to move to the one opposite of him. But before you can sit down, Hyunjin reaches across the table to grab your wrist.
“No! Sit on this side,” he says, gently tugging your arm.
“Why?”
“I told you, we have to make it believable! Remember?”
It’s a perfect plan. If Hyunjin acts as utterly sappy as possible, his and your friends will surely fall for it. What better way to scream ‘lovesick college couple’ than to sit on the same side of the table together?
Also, how do you hold hands with someone who’s sitting across from you? Spoiler: you don’t.
But for now, you both eat. You plop down on the chair next to Hyunjin, albeit begrudgingly at first, and you end up finishing your sandwich fairly quickly. Hyunjin, however, takes his time. Not because he’s not hungry—he’s starving. But having half a bagel to work his way through is good in case things get awkward later on.
See? Perfect.
Soon enough, Hyunjin catches two familiar heads enter the cafe. He reaches for your hand under the table, lacing his fingers with yours when you take his hand with a sigh. He even considers subtly scooting his chair over to be even closer to you. Something in the dark crevices of his mind keeps begging him to do it. He’s not even sure why, but he scolds at that voice to wait a moment.
His eyes carefully follow Changbin and Jisung as they get out of line. They both wave at him, and he awkwardly waves back before they turn to each other.
After what feels like an eternity, Changbin steps up to the counter to grab two bagels. Then he follows Jisung to your table.
“What’s up, sweetcheeks?” Jisung says.
Hyunjin glances at you and when you look back, you make an expression as if to tell him ‘go on then’. Hyunjin however, decides against that, turning his attention back to the two boys sitting across from them.
Changbin’s already stuck half of the bagel in his mouth to the point he’s struggling to chew. It’s disgusting, but for some reason it keeps Hyunjin in a trance. When that trance is broken by you swiftly jabbing him in the rib, he winces, glares at you, and looks back over the table.
“About that,” Hyunjin laughs awkwardly. If he wasn’t already holding your hand, he would have gone for it to try and calm his nerves.
“What is it?” Jisung asks, ripping a piece of his bagel off and chucking it into his mouth. “You two finally shacking up?”
Hyunjin sits there stunned, only listening as you groan in disgust.
“What is wrong with you?” you say.
Jisung smiles and sends a wink to you before leaning back in his seat. “It’s just my talent, baby.”
Hyunjin keeps his eyes locked on his bag. This is fake, he repeats in his mind after the word ‘baby’ is uttered from Jisung’s lips. Why does it bother him so much? It shouldn’t bother him—it never has before. This isn’t real. It’s just a simple word Jisung has used to refer to literally everyone in your friend group. Hyunjin’s heard worse come from the boy’s mouth. ‘Sweetcheeks’, ‘’bubby wubby’, schmoopy poopy poo’... all Jisung said this time was ‘baby.’
This is fake.
Hyunjin feels you squeeze his hand. He squeezes it back as he finally looks up. You’re looking at him with your eyebrows furrowed, silently asking him what’s wrong.
This isn’t real…
Now his heart burns. He decides to blame it on too much cream cheese on his bagel.
“What did you want to tell us?” Changbin tries to say as he gulps down his bagel before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
Hyunjin glances over at you, and then back to his friends. He raises your enjoined hands.
“So… we’re dating!”
Changbin nearly chokes on his bagel at Hyunjin’s words. He looks up slowly, following your and Hyunjin’s arms up to where your hands meet, and he nods once. “Oh. Well, damn.”
Jisung, on the other hand, takes a moment longer to process the news. But when he does, his jaw slowly drops and he takes in a sharp breath. “Oh. My. GO—”
“Yah, shut up!” Hyunjin leans over across the table to slap a hand over Jisung’s mouth.
“…God,” the younger boy finishes his sentence quietly, his voice muffled.
Hyunjin maintains his stare at the younger boy as he slowly begins to pull back. No more screaming, he begs. He’s had enough of it for the rest of the year.
A tension hangs in the air around the four of them. Changbin goes back to carelessly munching on his bagel, and Jisung is gazing at Hyunjin and you, his very fake girlfriend, with an almost-maniacal smile.
“Soooo…” Jisung starts after a minute. Hyunjin can literally feel him gleefully kicking his legs under the table. “Who confessed first?”
Hyunjin pales at the question. He forgot to go over a cover story with you.
Luckily, before he can struggle to give an answer, Changbin swoops in and unknowingly buys him some time.
“Why are you the one who’s happy?” he questions. “I’m the one who won the bet!”
Hyunjin’s eyes widen. “You guys bet on us?!”
“We all did,” Changbin says. “Now Jisung owes half our group ten dollars each.”
“Wait, but we still don’t know who confessed first!” Jisung says.
“Why is that important?” Hyunjin says.
“‘Cause it was part of the bet, too!”
Hyunjin stills again and looks at you helplessly. He squeezes your hand as if to signal that he needs you to come up with something, and fast. Something about how he had the most magical confession to end all confessions during the first snow that didn’t even happen yet this year.
“I-It was me,” you finally say.
Hyunjin has to stop himself from looking at you in surprise.
Jisung gasps loudly again. He’s so wholly entranced, Hyunjin doesn’t know how lucky he should consider himself for it. “Really?”
Hyunjin watches as you clear your throat before nodding. You smile in a way that he swears he’s never seen before. You tilt your head and break your eye contact with Jisung to look over at him, then you look back at Jisung.
“You expect him to confess?” You giggle lightly, gesturing to Hyunjin. “All he talks about is how he wants someone to confess to him.”
The two boys across from them are just nodding in agreement. That is true, Hyunjin thinks. He’s probably been talking about that since he started college, maybe even before. He can’t really describe the feelings that come from somebody confessing their feelings to you.
“And…” you continue, “after the failed confession with Jisoo, I realised I should take it as a sign to confess.”
You’re smiling to yourself as you shrug your shoulders, keeping your eyes down on the table. Hyunjin has never seen you act—and act this well. Jisung and Changbin are totally hooked, nodding along to everything you’re saying. They’re like two little children listening to a bedtime story doing everything they can to stay awake. You’ve got them wrapped around your pinky finger.
Hyunjin’s gaze focuses on your hand in his. He brings them to his lap and begins to play with your fingers, letting your words between the boys fade into the background. His mind is still lingering around the thoughts of Jisoo and the failed confession.
He still isn’t completely sure what happened there. Why his crush, whom he was sure he was in love with, faded so quickly and so suddenly. He never thought falling out of like—or love—with someone could be that easy… but if he thought about it too much, he’d probably worry about the possibility of love. He decides that’s not a thought for now.
“Woah,” Jisung says, his mouth hanging open. “That’s crazy.”
“That means you owe us another five dollars, genius,” Changbin says.
Jisung quickly turns to Changbin. “Let me grieve for my wallet first!” Hyunjin watches as Jisung rests his head in his hands in despair.
“Why would you even bet on Hyunjin confessing first?” You can’t help but laugh. “You set yourself up for failure.”
“Because maybe I had faith in him!!” Jisung exclaims, looking up at you. “I thought he’d have it in him!”
You glance at Hyunjin, smile sheepishly, and look back at the two boys that sit across the table from you.
“Well you should have known him better.”
“Ooookay,” Hyunjin says, suddenly moving to stand. “We, um, we gotta get going.” He turns to you, hoping you get the message. “Right, Y/N?”
You nod quickly and stand up too. “Yeah, we were gonna have a study date together,” you say as you gather your things.
“Okay, have fun,” Changbin says coolly.
“But we were just getting started!” Jisung counters.
Hyunjin lets out a sigh. “We’ll tell you guys everything tomorrow, okay?”
Jisung’s eyes narrow and he raises an eyebrow. The way he’s staring Hyunjin down is making him want to shrink up and hide.
After a moment of awkwardness on Hyunjin’s part, Jisung opens his mouth to speak.
“Tell us everything?”
“Define ‘everything’, Ji,” you respond before Hyunjin has the chance to.
“Everything means everything,” Jisung drawls out. “Like, come on guys, give us the details! The nitty gritty of it all!” He’s now leaning over the table as he pleads. “I just wanna know all about my two best friends’ relationship! Is that so weird?!”
You share a look with Hyunjin. You’re giggling, rolling your eyes as you look back over at the boy. “Find your own girlfriend, Ji, don’t live through our relationship.”
Jisung huffs, falling back into his chair with his arms crossed. “You guys are no fun.”
“We’ll see you tomorrow,” you say, and you both wave at the two boys. Changbin happily responds and Jisung, still grumpy, begrudgingly waves back.
Luckily, this seems to be enough for you and Hyunjin to leave. Hyunjin swings your hands lightly, fingers still entwined, as the cafe door shuts behind you with a small squeak.
There is no study date. There wasn’t really any regular ‘date’ planned—not unless the confessing? lying? to your friends counts.
Regardless, you and Hyunjin look at each other and silently agree. You both deserve a sweet treat after that.
four.
– november 17th.
You wouldn’t dare tell Hyunjin, but once he told you about his “fantastical Friday date idea” earlier this afternoon, you’ve been feeling like a bottle of Coke about to explode.
Sure, he’s been a little crazy about hitting all the stereotypical Christmas romance activities, but this is ice skating! It’s fun and it’s romantic enough to scratch Hyunjin’s itch, but not too romantic. You’re only fake-boyfriend and fake-girlfriend, after all.
“Y/N?”
Hyunjin waves a hand in front of your face, bringing you out of your daze. You must have been staring at the fake icicles for too long.
“Huh? Yeah?” you say, blinking a few times.
He holds up two pairs of rental ice skates, one for you and one for him. “I already paid, let’s go put these on.”
You wander over to the benches where other skaters are lacing up. They make it look so effortless, but you and Hyunjin keep getting your fingers tangled in the long laces. And every time you attempt to stand up, your ankles feel so wobbly that you have to sit back down and tighten them.
Eventually, your skates feel secure enough that you don’t wobble too much when you do make it to your feet. You look over at Hyunjin, who doesn’t look like he’s faring any better than you.
“Do you think you can get up?” you ask. You’re starting to figure out how to balance, but you hold on to the edge of a table just in case.
“Yeah,” Hyunjin hums confidently. However, the deer-in-headlights look on his face as he slowly lifts his bum off the bench says otherwise. You’d laugh at him more than you already are if you didn’t do the same.
“Are you sure you can get up?”
“Totally!”
As if to prove you wrong, Hyunjin slowly begins to stand up. When he’s upright, he lifts one hand off the bench, then the other. Then he slowly shuffles one foot after the other in the direction of the rink, until he loses balance and nearly falls into the splits.
You try not to snort at his cry that echoes throughout the rink. Of course, you do the same as you try to follow him and your dear best friend returns the favour.
“HAH! Karma!” Hyunjin points and laughs at you before slipping and falling on his back.
“Hyunjin!” you exclaim, shuffling over to help him up.
“I’m fine!” he tries to reassure you once he’s upright again. He reaches for your hand as he waddles his way to the rink, this time successfully, and with you in tow.
You let out the breath you’re holding once your other hand finds the edge of the wall. Maybe you came into the rink too cocky, or maybe the old couple doing laps around you and Hyunjin made this look easy.
After you recenter yourself—well, after trying to—you look at Hyunjin, who has a death grip on your hand. “Are you okay?”
“Yep!” The boy smiles. “Very fine!” He slowly lets go of your hand, attempting to get away from the wall. He’s successful for a few seconds, then he finds himself wobbling again and he quickly grabs onto your arm.
Giggling, you try to shake him off. “Hyun, you’re gonna make me fall, too!”
He doesn’t respond for a beat. When you turn to look back at him, his legs are shaking, but he’s got a stupid smirk plastered on his face. Even when he’s visibly struggling, of course he has to do this.
“Oh, am I?”
You roll your eyes. “Oh, fuck off.”
You try to free your hand again. Somehow, his grip gets even tighter, and he manages to slide his hand down your arm and thread his fingers with yours.
“You’re gonna be wishing you’re holding my hand soon enough,” Hyunjin muses.
“Whatever you say, fake boyfriend,” you sigh sarcastically.
The old couple passes you by again; they seem to be out-skating every couple on the ice by this point. As they go in circles together, they show off their best disco moves as if they were on roller skates instead. The old man, as he swings past you two a second time, makes a heart with his hands behind the old woman, pumping it in the air to the beat of “Mistletoe” by Justin Bieber as his wife continues to dance.
You don’t look back at Hyunjin, but you can imagine the stars in his eyes as he watches them. Instead, you pay attention to the way they move their feet. Push out with your right foot, then with your left. Right, left, right, left. With Hyunjin still gripping on tightly to your hand, you attempt to copy it.
“H-Hey!” Hyunjin squeaks from behind you. “What are you doing?!”
“Trying to get off the wall!” you say. You turn your head to look at him briefly. “You want to be a cute fake couple like those two,” you gesture to the old couple, “right?”
He stumbles over a ‘maybe’, but there’s no denying the way he wistfully watches the old man carefully spin the old woman.
You smile fondly. “Then come on. Watch how they move and try to do the same.”
It takes several laps and several more minutes to get into a rhythm. You can’t say that you’re gliding across the ice, but you’re holding your own without clinging to the wall. Barely. Hyunjin, on the other hand, suddenly seems like a natural. His graceful strides make you question if he was feigning clumsiness half an hour ago, or if he was just that good.
You try to catch up to him as you both make a turn and he looks back to check on you. He smiles at you and holds up a peace sign, flashing you a wink—and you freeze. You were already using all your brainpower to remember to keep moving your feet, and just like that, you forget everything you’re doing.
By the time you snap out of your daze, you’re about to crash into Hyunjin. You yelp, flailing as you try to brake. Hyunjin tries to catch you before you fall flat on your face, but you end up pulling him down with you and falling backwards.
Then you realise the position you’re both in. You’re on your back, and Hyunjin is half on top of you. You’re trying to catch your breath, but the way he tries to prop himself up with his elbows somehow sucks the air out of your lungs all over again.
“Hyun, slow down,” you say as he almost slips again. You catch his arms in yours and lose your breath for a third time. “One foot at a time, okay?”
You swear Hyunjin spaces out as you speak—there’s a gleam in his eyes you can’t quite place. But the gleam goes away just as quickly as it came, and he begins to regain his balance enough to stand up.
He holds out his hands for you and you grab on. He then slowly pulls, allowing you to find a way to get up with a pair of blades on your feet.
When you’re nearly upright, you take a wrong step and feel yourself flying backwards. You flail your arms as you try to prepare to land, but you feel Hyunjin’s arm wrap around your waist and pull you in just in time.
For a second, you feel like you’re in a cheesy Disney movie. The moment happened so fast, but feels so slow in hindsight. Now you’re here, your jaw dropped open in surprise, as your hands find their way to Hyunjin’s shoulders. Is this how Cinderella or something felt—
Wait, what the fuck?
“Are you okay?” Hyunjin says. His eyes search yours for any sign of hurt.
You take a beat to respond, nodding rapidly. “Y-Yeah, I’m okay.”
Hyunjin nods once. “Oookay. Do you wanna keep going?”
Right there, you contemplate just packing up and going back to your dorm. Even though the only one staring at you is Hyunjin, it feels like a thousand pairs of eyes are boring into your soul.
However, something in your heart, or maybe your brain, begs you to stay. So you nod.
five.
– november 20th.
Hyunjin stands and leans against the stairrail by the front of the university library. He’s too busy fiddling with his perfectly curated Christmas playlist, fall in love with me (this christmas), to even notice you pull up in your car. So when you honk the horn, he yelps and falls on his butt, then down a couple stairs, before sending daggers your way.
He watches as your passenger side window rolls down slowly and your shit-eating grin becomes clear from behind it.
“You ready to go?” you ask.
Hyunjin, still glaring at you, slowly nods his head in response.
“Then get off your ass!” you say. “You’re the one that wanted to go to this!”
He gets up with a dramatic huff and drags himself to the passenger seat of the car. The second he hops in, he leans forward and grabs your aux cord, plugging it into his phone and unlocks his phone, once again showing the Christmas playlist.
Meanwhile, you watch him in amusement. “You want aux?”
Hyunjin rolls his eyes at your sarcasm. But he answers regardless, too excited about the idea of a Christmas tree farm date. Another thing from his bucket list of Christmas dates to check off.
“Of course I want aux!”
Clicking shuffle, he cheers to himself when the mystical violin intro of “Christmas Tree Farm" by Taylor Swift begins to play. Clicking twice to make the song repeat, he locks his phone before placing it in one of the free cup holders.
“This is perfect!” He claps to himself, swaying the best he can to the music as he fastens his seat belt. “🎶And I’m somewhere else… just like magic… 🎶” he sings along.
He looks over at you and you’re watching him again. This time he can’t tell if it’s in amusement or bafflement. “Can we go now?”
Hyunjin nods, leaning back into his seat with a content smile. “You could’ve started when I got into the car.”
He lets his gaze linger on you for a second. When you look at him, he quickly looks away. Maybe he’s too impatient, but when he looks back at you a moment later to see if you have finally turned your focus to the road in front of you, you’re still staring right at him.
His cheeks begin to feel warm. Your gaze is practically peering into his soul, and you have your heater on full blast—it feels like a sauna in here. It’s not his fault you get cold so easily. It’s also not his fault a little voice in his head is telling him to use it as an excuse to be near you…
No. Bad Hyunjin.
He quickly shoves the thought away into a neat little box, something future Hyunjin will have to deal with. Right now, all present-day Hyunjin cares about is Miss Swift playing through the speakers.
And so he starts humming, which soon turns to quiet singing. Soon enough, the quiet singing soon turns into full-blown yelling of the lyrics. He’s here for the vibe, and the vibe is immaculate.
“🎶AND YOU WOULD BE THERE TOOOO~!!🎶”
Good Hyunjin!
“Hyun, shut up! I can’t see the road!” you shout, your voice carrying over the music.
Hyunjin throws his head back in feigned agony. “Okayyy, okay!” he groans before bringing it down to quiet singing for the rest of the song.
When the music fades out, it’s silent for a moment. Hyunjin feels his cheeks hurt from how much he’s smiling. When it starts again, he bounces in his seat.
“Again?” you question, bringing his attention back to you. “Can’t we go to the next song?”
He gasps and shakes his head. “Nuh-uh! It’s for the vibe, Y/N!” He nods slowly to emphasise his point. “The vibe!”
You nod, your face full of confusion. “And the vibe is…?”
“That we’re literally going to a Christmas tree farm! Do you know how exciting that is?!” Hyunjin turns right to you as you pull up to a stop sign. He almost gets lost in your eyes when you look back at him. “It’s one of the key Christmas dates in the movies! And there’s a whole song about it!” He lets himself ramble on for a minute, trying not to get too lost in his fantasies. Despite his efforts, he soon feels himself about to spiral…
Then you look away.
Hyunjin lets out a sigh as he glances over at you. You’re focused on the road, your eyes flickering around as you wait for a good time to merge lanes. He knows that you only looked away to continue driving, but deep down, he fears that he pushed you away with his babbling.
He just looks down at his lap before he speaks, his voice trembling slightly. “Look, I… I know you hate Christmas, but—”
“I don’t hate Christmas…”
Hyunjin is surprised he can hear you with how quietly you’re talking.
“I…” You sigh. “I just don’t understand why you’re so obsessed with this ‘Christmas romance’ thing. Like, what makes it more special than a romance-romance?”
“Because…” He takes a breath before releasing it. “Christmas is magical.”
The song ends. He reaches for his phone and his finger hovers over the pause button.
“Hyunnie, you don’t need to stop the—”
He stops the music, ignoring the sigh you let out when you do.
“It’s just…” he starts, then trails off. “I…”
A beat of silence.
“You…?”
Hyunjin looks at you, trying to read your reaction. It’s hard to tell if your furrowed brow is from concentration or confusion.
“Like…” he starts again, then he sighs.
How would he even begin to explain that the warm, fuzzy feeling he gets from Christmas, is one he’s only ever experienced secondhand? How is he supposed to tell you that he hopelessly projects onto an array of chiselled brunet men in cheesy holiday movies without sounding insane? That he dreams of taking walks in the snow and under the Christmas lights and in Christmas tree farms with someone, like all the male leads on the Hallmark channel seem to do? Will it seem naive? Or childish?
At the same time, though, if all these ordinary guys can find love without even trying… who’s to say he can’t, too?
“It’s… like… why wouldn’t you want that, you know?”
But of course, Hyunjin’s feelings are so grand that he can’t find the words to explain it.
You let out a sigh again, a more sympathetic one this time. “I… I guess? I…”
Hyunjin watches you carefully as you find your words. He realises, a few moments later, that he’s holding his breath. Why is he holding his breath? It’s as if this is a big deal. But it’s not. It’s just you.
You shrug, and something in him twists. “I– I don’t know. I just… I can’t see it for myself.”
A thick silence hangs in the air. It seems to taunt Hyunjin, pointing and laughing at him like the playground bully for even daring to open his mouth. He bites his tongue for another moment or two, thinking of a way to lessen the tension. But after that, he can’t bear the silence anymore.
The song begins again. Maybe he was right to feel like a child.
…
By the time you park, the mood inside the car is much colder than the weather outside it. Hyunjin shuts the door behind him and lets it slam, even though he knows you’ll be annoyed about it. He shoves his hands inside his jacket pockets and hides himself the best he can in the collar of his coat.
In a moment, you’re next to him. Your own hands in your pockets as you silently glaze over the mass of trees that seem to go on for miles. You both stand there for an uncertain amount of time, just utterly blown away by the amount of Christmas trees.
In the corner of his eye, Hyunjin notices you hold out your hand in front of him and leave it there. He stares at it wordlessly, and after a moment or two of nothing, you make grabby hand motions at him like a small child.
“What?” he questions quietly. When he finally looks over at you, you’re too busy staring at the lights beyond the entrance to look back.
“Just come on. We’ve got a date to enjoy…” You pause and take a breath. “Boyfriend.”
A breath hitches in the back of his throat. You merely mumbled that last word, but Hyunjin heard it loud and clear. You begin to bring your hand closer to his again, motioning silently for him to take it, and he mentally curses at himself for how quickly his lips twitch up into a small smile.
Slowly, he reaches over and takes your hand in his, linking your fingers together. He uses every fibre of his being not to beam like an idiot.
“Where do we start?” you say, not really aiming the question at anyone.
Hyunjin shrugs. “I mean, we can start with the Christmas trees…”
His comment earns a chuckle from you, then a light punch to the arm. It’s a pity chuckle, but he’ll take what he can get. “No shit.”
Chuckling too, he gently tugs at your hand. “Come on, the Christmas tree farm awaits.”
Hyunjin squeezes your hand lightly as he leads you to the counter. He slips a five-dollar bill in the donation jar before walking in the farm with you. The golden lights of the welcome arch surround him with warmth, just like the feeling of your hand in his, as he makes a beeline for the rows of Christmas trees.
To Hyunjin, you seem content with him guiding you around all of the large Christmas trees, even when he takes longer than necessary to take in the waft of fresh pine coming from a few of them. He tries to hold back at first, but eventually he stops at a tree and comments on how much prettier it would look with a string of colourful lights and candy canes lining its needles. Then you two stop at the next tree, and he babbles about how fun it would be to have a real tree one year.
He’s sure he has stars in his eyes much brighter than the one he’d put on top of a real Christmas tree. And he’s lucky that it’s just you with him and you allow him to ramble on, nodding along as he does so. Every once in a while, he looks at you for your reaction to something he said, and he catches the small smile on your face. Whether it’s at him or the children who chase each other through the gaps between the trees, he doesn’t care. He’s just happy that you’re happy, and indulging in his silly fantasies.
There’s a relaxing aura about being at a Christmas tree farm that Hyunjin never expected. Well, maybe he should’ve expected this from the movies he’s watched, but experiencing the warm atmosphere himself is different than seeing it on a screen. The trees around you two seem to lift the tension from the car off your shoulders. He feels lighter, more at peace. And, more importantly, so do you.
The sun has dipped below the horizon, making way for strings of lights towards the centre of the farm. Lines of a purple hue dip upward to a point that stands taller than all the pine trees that seem to go on for miles. Maybe there’s something there that Hyunjin missed.
The light glow catches your attention, too, and you start walking closer to it, keeping a hold on his hand. You two weave through the rows of Christmas trees until you happen to pass the last row, and you find a spectacle of sparkling lights. Lines of red and white make a tent shape and meet the purple lights at the top. Beneath them, two reindeer made of wire and golden lights greet you. They almost look like they’re cuddling under the tent of red and white—something about it makes Hyunjin’s heart sing.
“Wow…” he whispers to himself.
And somehow, without realising it, words leave your lips softly. Hyunjin is so in awe of the lights, he barely notices. “🎶Under the mistletoe…🎶”
He almost doesn’t feel your head lightly rest against his shoulder. The reindeer… why is it reminding him of you two?
“🎶Watching the fire glow…🎶”
The faint melody makes Hyunjin’s ear perk up, causing him to turn and gaze at you. You’re too immersed in the trees and the occasional giggling child running through to even notice you’re quietly singing “Christmas Tree Farm'' to yourself.
It makes Hyunjin’s heart race just like it did back in the car. However, now, he doesn’t have the car heaters to blame his red cheeks on. He’s thankful you're too absorbed in your own little world to even notice anything going on around you.
“🎶And telling me, ‘I love you’ …🎶”
It’s like whatever is above is blessing him, letting him in on a little secret, in the form of light snowdrops falling from the sky. They land so delicately on your hair and shoulders and there’s a little flicker in your eyes that Hyunjin can’t ignore.
Never once in his life did he think he would see the first snow with someone. But now that he is, the hopeless romantic in him is screaming at him what he should have known all along.
“🎶Just being in your arms…🎶”
There is no big realisation. There is no big freak-out. There’s nothing to unpack or be scared about when his heart swells just that little bit more than usual. As he’s looking at you—still too oblivious to notice—everything just makes sense. There is no need for perfect, there is no need for the unattainable.
All he needs is you.
“🎶Takes me back to that little farm…🎶”
He doesn’t need to second guess himself, or try to convince himself of anything. He just knows. All the stories he was told by his parents, the ones he watched in the movies, every little fairytale that he’s held onto his whole life is true.
Maybe it’s not childish, and maybe he didn’t need to chase his fairytale moment at all.
He already has it.
“🎶Where every wish comes true…🎶”
As you continue to mumble the lyrics to yourself, Hyunjin squeezes your hand, finally bringing your attention back to him.
“Thank you for being here with me.” He smiles sweetly.
Your returning smile makes his heart do laps. “No, thank you.”
He squeezes your hand again. You squeeze his back.
six.
– november 23rd.
It’s only when the mass of people leaving your class dissipates that you notice Hyunjin standing out in the hallway waiting for you. He’s leaning up against the wall, focused on his phone. When he finally looks up and sees you, his smile grows and he pockets his phone, holding a hand out to you.
You raise your eyebrow and glance at his hand for a second too long before he makes grabby hands at you. A giggle escapes your lips. “Why do you want to hold my hand so badly?” You take his hand before he can answer.
“Because my dearest and best girlfriend in the world, it’s time for another date,” he muses, skipping slightly and rocking your entwined hands in a more exaggerated fashion.
Humming and nodding your head, you lean into him slightly. “What are we going to do?”
He shrugs. “I was thinking we go to the park close to campus? Since the snow has settled and everything, we can just walk around for a couple hours until I have to go to class.”
It’s then that you register that Hyunjin called you his girlfriend. Not his fake girlfriend, just his girlfriend. You don’t do anything to correct him right now.
Instead, you look up at him, a pout gracing your lips. “But I was going to studyyyy.”
Hyunjin just shoots you a doubtful look back. “Oh, really?”
“Uh-huh!” you whine. The professor of the class you just got out of kept hinting at a pop quiz next session—considering that you failed the last pop quiz, you really didn’t want to fail a second one.
Nodding slowly, Hyunjin still looks sceptical. “Riiiight, okay.”
“I’m serious! We’re graduating soon, I can’t flunk out now!”
Hyunjin nods again. “Okaaaay, but you have…” he counts with his fingers on his free hand, “five days until then!” He stops in the middle of the walkway, stepping in front of you and taking not one, but both your hands in his. “Come onnnn, please? It’s just one day! And it snowed! It’s the perfect day to not study!”
When you respond with a blank stare, it seems like Hyunjin is forced to take drastic measures. So he tries one more very convincing line. “I’ll make you a hot chocolate when we get home! I know how much you love hot chocolate. Pleeeease?”
Something about the way his bottom lip juts out and his eyes twinkle with hope makes you want to cup his cheeks in your hands and… punch him. Yes, exactly, punch him right in the face. Hit him where it hurts.
But alas, despite your growing urge to lovingly ki…ck him off the fifth floor of the university library, you know even that won’t stop him begging you to ditch studying. So you sigh.
“Make it with milk, not water; whipped cream and chocolate syrup on top. Don’t forget the marshmallows.”
That quiz will have to wait another day, but seeing the wave of happiness and relief wash over Hyunjin’s face right before he crushes you in a hug makes it worth it.
“Deal!”
…
The park is less crowded than you thought it would be. In your experience as a college student, you thought more of you would use the snow as a way to escape the stress of upcoming deadlines. Yes, you had to be bribed with hot chocolate to be here, but still. If you know, you know.
Regardless, you’re not complaining that you and Hyunjin basically have the whole park to yourselves.
“We should sit under there,” Hyunjin says, pointing to a cedar tree. Never mind the blanket of snow covering its needles that could fall on your heads.
You look up at him, your face sour. “Is that really a good idea?”
“Oh… right,” he says sheepishly, then points to a bench several feet away from it. “How about there?”
You nod and let him drag you there, ignoring the pathways and cutting through the grass. You take it as an excuse to hear the snow crunch underneath your shoes.
As you both approach the bench, Hyunjin slowly lets go of your hand to scurry ahead of you and wipe the thin layer of snow from its surface. It earns a cry from him at how cold it is, causing you to shake your head fondly.
“Why not get your gloves out?” you ask.
“I forgot I had them!” He plops down on the bench with a frown and pats the spot next to him. “Sit.”
You take a seat, pulling your backpack off your shoulders and onto your lap. Reaching in the front pocket, you blindly search for his and your gloves. When your fingers graze the soft fabric, you pull both pairs out and hand Hyunjin’s pair to him.
“Thank you,” he mumbles, hurrying to slip his gloves on his hands. Once you do the same, he holds his hand out to you.
You furrow your brow at him. “We just held hands earlier?”
Hyunjin pouts. “But my hands are cold.”
“Is that not what the gloves are for?”
“Y/N…” he pulls out the bottom lip and puppy dog eyes again. Oh no…
Your eyes guiltily flicker between his outstretched hand and his face. His stupid, pouty face that is making your heart feel things you don’t want to think about. God..
“It’s coooold,” Hyunjin whines. “And it’s a coupley thing to snuggle when it’s cold, right?”
Fake couple. But you don’t correct him out loud.
“Okay, okay,” you huff, taking his hand in yours. He smiles and entwines your fingers together.
You and Hyunjin sit in silence for a while hand-in-hand as you take in the serenity. Sounds of children giggling faintly ring from the other side of the small park, and the blanket of powdery snow in front of you is still fresh and untouched. You feel so at peace here, you don’t notice you’re scooting closer to Hyunjin.
Wait. You’re scooting closer to Hyunjin. And you’re leaning your head on his shoulder.
It’s because it’s cold. Yeah. Your bum is freezing and you could use the body heat of a fellow human. It’s like how penguins huddle for warmth in the winter, except you’re not in Antarctica; you’re in a quaint little park on a snowy day with your best friend—fake boyfriend.
And as a good fake boyfriend does, Hyunjin lets go of your hand in response and slips his arm around your shoulders. You feel his cheek gently rest on top of your head. You instinctively wrap an arm around his waist—instinctively? How did you know to do that? What are you doing?
Right, you’re snuggling. Snuggling like any ordinary couple would do. It doesn’t matter if you’re a fake couple; this is how you fake it till you make it, as they say. So you just stay like this for a few minutes. Hyunjin’s making for a great cuddler, anyway. Is he worried about not being as good as the guys in whatever movies he watches? He shouldn’t. Because he’s gentle and warm and sweet and now he’s kissing the top of your head.
Wait, what are you doing?
Your eyes fly wide open. You don’t move, but suddenly Hyunjin’s too warm and you feel suffocated in his arms. Now, all you can think of is any excuse to get up.
As if the universe was answering your prayers, a small tennis ball rolls by your feet. You look at the light green ball, then the dog leaping through the snow to chase it, then a kid you assume is its owner, far away but visibly out of breath. Letting go of Hyunjin, you bend down to grab the ball, running a few feet away before chucking the ball in the kid’s direction.
After watching the dog dash after the ball for a moment, you feel something cold splat against your back. You gasp in surprise and turn to see a frowning Hyunjin.
“You left me for a dog!” he whines childishly. He tries not to smile, but lets out a giggle at the end of his sentence.
You stare at him with your jaw dropped. “He’s cuter than you!”
He gasps loudly in offence and chucks another snowball at you.
“Who’s cuter now?!”
You scoop up some snow and toss it at his chest. “Still the dog!”
He gets up and runs straight for you. You squeak and run away, looping around the cedar tree close to the bench to try and slow him down. He quickly catches up with you, and you soon feel his arms wrap around you and pull you back. You let out a squeal at the move.
“You thought you could get away with that, huh?!” he says in between giggles. You’re just as giggly.
“Let me go!”
“Not until you say I’m cuter than that dog!”
He looks at you and you look up at him. He’s trying to pout at you, but you’re both laughing too much to take him seriously. But there’s something in his eyes, or maybe in his silly back-hug, that feels different… but you don’t want to think about that right now.
Instead, you smile and poke his cheek with one finger.
“Okay, fine. But only just a little.”
seven.
– december 1st.
Hyunjin feels himself buzzing from excitement as he guides you, hand-in-hand, through the busy streets of downtown. He would never admit it outright, but ever since you came up with the idea of fake Christmas dates, watching the switching on of the Christmas lights was high on his list. He’s dreamt of counting down the seconds until holiday lights illuminate the city, and has watched them alone. Just… not with someone. Not with someone who means as much to him as you do.
He can’t tell what’s louder: his heart thumping when your hand squeezes his as you both tuck and swerve through the busy crowd, or the crowd itself. After his realisation a few weeks prior, there’s something new and addicting about how your hand feels in his—like they were pieces of a puzzle, like they were destined to fit each other. He can’t get enough of it. He wonders if Christmas romance movie characters feel their heart beating as fast as his when he’s around you. And he wonders if it makes your heart race just as much, if there’s even a slight possibility that you look at him the same way he’s grown to look at you.
A slight tug on his hand pulls him out of his daze for just a moment. He looks back at you, who points excitedly at the giant Christmas tree in the heart of the plaza you two had just walked past. Smiling fondly, he follows you to get a closer look.
Hyunjin stops next to you, looking up at the huge, sparkling tree in front of you. He takes a moment to marvel at the bright lights strung across the expanse of the tree, the tinsel hanging from each branch, and red and gold ornaments sprinkled throughout. The tree stands at such a great height, Hyunjin can barely see the shining gold star perched atop it.
As his gaze drifts downward, across the tree again, his eyes fall on you standing by his side. In that moment, under the glittering lights bouncing off the small ornaments, Hyunjin thinks you’ve never looked prettier. You’re looking up at the tree in wonder, twinkles in your eyes as you take in the sights. You’re unaware of the way Hyunjin beholds you like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever seen. All the glowing lights surrounding you go dim in comparison every time you smile.
To Hyunjin, you’re the sun, and he’s just a star in your orbit, circling around you and living for every moment your warm light shines on him. Without you, his world would be cold and dark, just as it was before you came into his life.
Eventually, he tears his eyes away from you, focusing once again on the tree. Between the strings of bulbs, he sees flashes of a future he can picture with you: your first kiss, waking up to you in the morning every day, your wedding day and carrying you over the threshold of your home when you’re back from your honeymoon. He can see it all. Three kids, two dogs, and a hamster, family vacations, their friends being honorary uncles.
Maybe he’s getting ahead of himself, but when he’s with you, he can’t help it. You are his forever and a day.
Every time he steals a glance at you, you’re in a world of your own. You’re so focused on looking up at the pre-hanging lights that you let him drag you along without much thought. Not that he minds much, himself. The little sparkle in your eyes as you look around in awe is utterly adorable. Not to mention that you’re willingly out with him in matching Christmas sweaters—maybe reluctantly at first, but willingly nonetheless. He never thought he’d get you to agree, but now that you did, the oversized tacky sweater somehow makes you look even cuter than he imagined.
He can’t decide whether or not to scream to the world about how precious you are, or if he wants to wrap you up in a blanket and keep you all to himself. He thoroughly believes the world deserves to see your brightness, but at the same time, he only wants you to smile at him. He wants to be the reason you smile so wide your cheeks hurt, he wants to be the reason to laugh so hard you fall off your seat.
Hyunjin’s focus returns to in front of him, a small content smile playing at his lips. Not because of you (mostly), but because he already knows the perfect place to watch the switch on. He’s had this planned for weeks now—another thing he will never admit.
Ever since the announcement of the light switch on came on social media a few weeks back, Hyunjin has been on a special mission. Every weekend since then, he’s sneaked off to the city to find the best spot possible to see the lights in all their glory. (He had told you that he had been helping Changbin with some stuff; whether or not you believed him was another story). Somewhere not too crowded, somewhere not too far away. Something perfect—something you deserve.
That’s when he discovered a small cafe, its entrance hidden in a small alleyway wedged between two buildings. He was surprised at first that it was open since there were no signs on the street to indicate its existence, apart from the small menu board at the bottom of the metal staircase.
As he guides you into the alleyway, he hears you hum in confusion. Feeling your hand tense up slightly in his, he stops and turns around.
You’re looking at him with furrowed eyebrows, concern drawn all over your face. With a light squeeze of his hand, Hyunjin sends you a smile.
“Do you trust me?” he says barely above a whisper, squeezing your hand once more.
Hyunjin’s smile widens as you don’t even hesitate to nod your head at him.
“Always.”
Before you get the chance to speak, you’re already up on the roof of the small coffee shop. It’s surprisingly empty with how busy the streets are down below. It makes Hyunjin wonder why there aren’t more people up there, not that he’s complaining.
Even though you’re both out of the crowd, Hyunjin still doesn’t let go of your hand just yet. He’s too content in the way it feels right now, and he wants to soak up every moment of it, because he doesn’t know when he’ll get the chance to again. He could play the clingy card to buy himself more time—it’s something he’s done before when he was sick, and it’s worked—but it doesn’t feel quite right this time. This was different from his usual antics somehow. It feels natural, it feels right. But at the same time, he wants to jump around and do some somersaults, much like his heart in his chest is.
He quickly hides the way his smile drops when you let go of his hand and runs over to the metal railings, gasping at the better view of the hung-up lights.
When you turn back to him, it’s like everything has disappeared around him and all he can see is you and your smile. He forgets how to breathe, he feels faint, and he wants nothing more than to wrap you up in his arms and to kiss you all over your pretty face. He can’t do that, of course, but will he do it in his dreams later that night? Probably. Most definitely.
He almost misses it when you speak to him, your smile growing by the second.
“This is great Hyun!” You’re bouncing in place. “How did you find this place?”
He shrugs and looks everywhere except in your eyes to try and calm his heating cheeks.
“Oh you know, I just stumbled upon it.”
He can’t help himself when you hold your hand out to him. “Let’s watch the lights together.”
So he takes it, letting your warmth dance around his hand in a mix of comfort and giddiness. He’s sure you haven’t noticed the new effect you’ve had on him, too oblivious to the world around you to know when someone is falling head over heels for you.
There’s a part of Hyunjin’s brain that tries to remind him of the deal. A reminder that all of these events are not real, just as he wanted. However, Hyunjin decides to push these thoughts down into a little box, lock them up with a lock and key, and bury it in his mind.
The countdown is like a faint blur in his ears, the chanting taking a backseat to the person right in front of him. All he can hear is your soft counting, all he can feel is his pulse racing in his fingertips.
“Five, four, three,” Hyunjin squeezes your hand. “Two…” You squeeze it back. “One.”
At the flip of a switch, a blaze of colourful lights brighten up the town. But to Hyunjin, even they don’t compare to the awestruck sparkle in your eyes that sets his heart aflame.
eight.
– december 7th.
Since it’s the week before finals, Hyunjin insisted this past weekend that you two have dates every day this week. One, you suggested to stop the dates so you could study and he said no. That’s an understatement, actually—he practically got on his knees and begged you not to do that. Like, shook-you-by-the-shoulders, one-step-away-from-giving-up-his-americano begged.
It’s funnier now that it’s over, but you’ve never seen him more desperate for anything. Weird. Maybe he ate too many of Felix’s brownies that day.
When Hyunjin arrives at your dorm for your daily date today, the first thing he tells you is, and you quote, “Sit your ass down and wait until I finish setting up.” So, not wanting to deal with his whining today, you do exactly as you’re told for once.
You let yourself sink into your couch as your eyes lazily follow Hyunjin around. He goes in and out of your kitchen, places his laptop on the coffee table in front of you, and opens it. The screen lights up, prompting him to input his password, but instead of doing so, he heads straight back into the kitchen without a word.
Huffing silently, you lean forward and type in his password: the month and day of both of your birthdays. It takes a second, but when the screen loads into an already-opened, paused, full-screen video of a fireplace, you furrow your brows.
“Hyun? What's this?” you call out to him.
Almost instantly, you hear him groan in response. Then he appears at the kitchen door and stares at you with his arms crossed. “I told you to sit down.”
“Oops?” You smile at him sheepishly. “I’m a rule-breaker.”
Hyunjin rolls his eyes before disappearing back into the kitchen. “A freak is what you are,” he grumbles.
You gasp. “HEY! I HEARD THAT!”
“THAT’S THE POINT!” he yells back from the kitchen.
Getting up from your seat, you make your way over to the kitchen, shivering slightly from the light chill in the air. You stay at the doorway, not wanting to sacrifice your feet to the cold tiles of your kitchen floor. Your eyes land on Hyunjin’s frame faster than you’d like to admit, and he’s standing over two mugs as he places tiny marshmallows into each of them.
“I thought I said sit down,” he says, not looking in your direction. You don’t want to know how he knows you’re there; you didn’t even move from the doorway. Maybe he saw you staring, maybe he just knows you that well… you hope it’s the second one.
“I couldn’t sit still,” you huff, bringing your arms across your chest.
He picks up the two mugs, takes a few steps towards you, and gestures to them with his head.
“Take these,” Hyunjin says as he hands them over. “Go sit back down, I’ll get some blankets.”
“M’kay.” Your voice comes out higher than usual. Praying he doesn’t notice, you quickly cover it up with a cough. “I mean, yep. Mhm.”
You hold your breath as you shuffle back over to the couch, exhaling deeply as you place the two mugs on the coffee table next to Hyunjin’s laptop. It’s when you sit down that you notice the whipped cream and drizzle of chocolate syrup he added to top both of your drinks. As your gaze follows the steam lightly swirling out of the mugs, you can’t help but smile. He remembered your favourite.
Not even a minute later, he’s back, your duvet in his arms. Before you can ask why, he throws it down on top of you.
“ACK!” you shriek. “I thought—” you attempt to speak as you wrestle your way out the duvet, “you were getting blankets!”
“I got a blanket, didn’t I?”
“But why the big one?!”
You feel the couch dip as Hyunjin sits down beside you. He helps free you from the duvet before he straightens it out, waving it once and letting it drape down across your laps.
“So we can do this.”
You just keep your eyes down on the duvet for a moment. It’s more than enough to cover both your and his legs, which you guess a throw blanket wouldn’t have been able to accomplish.
When you finally look up, though, Hyunjin is smiling at you tenderly. You catch yourself holding your breath again as his soft gaze finds yours. For a second, the brown hue in his eyes reminds you of the chocolate drizzle in your hot chocolate—comforting, sweet—maybe too sweet for some, but just the right amount for you. Has the brown in his eyes always sparkled like it is now?
Wait… what are you doing?
“Oh, u-um…” You blink a few times to try to bring yourself back down to earth. “Then this works, thanks, Hyun.” You take a mug from Hyunjin when he hands one over to you. “So what exactly are we doing?”
“We’re going to cuddle and drink hot cocoa by the fireplace,” Hyunjin hums, nodding proudly before taking a long sip of his drink.
You take a second to process his words, then you glance at Hyunjin’s laptop screen. “But that’s YouTube?”
He turns to look at you and blinks. If you could reverse time, this would be the perfect time to do it.
“Well, I know that, but we don’t have a fireplace.” He sighs. “This is the best we got.”
He leans over, clicks ‘play’ on the video, and the delicate crackling of fire emanating from his laptop begins to fill the room. Maybe it’s not a real fireplace, but the heat you’re feeling from him sitting so close and the comforting sounds make you feel plenty warm.
Hyunjin settles back into his spot on the couch, picking up his mug with one hand. You lift up your mug, too, and softly clink it with his, taking a sip together as well. You’re so engrossed in the sweet, creamy drink melting in your mouth, that you don’t notice Hyunjin has casually slipped his arm around your shoulders until another few sips later. You lean your head against him and do nothing to shake his arm off, even though a tiny part of your brain screams at you to make it stop.
You’ve lost track of how much time has passed, but when the hot chocolates are finished, the crackling has faded into the background and the sound of Hyunjin’s faint snoring fills your ears. It’s enough time and space to let your brain wander. Iit wanders to the way Hyunjin’s cologne is a constant in your life, the way you always know where he is and where he’s been. It wanders to how every piece of clothing you own, and your whole life, is in some way infused with the essence of Hyunjin.
Moving your head ever-so-slightly so you don’t wake him, you let your eyes gaze at the blond-headed boy for a moment too long. You can’t understand why he tries so hard to chase after perfection, when that’s already what he is. The way his eyelashes lay across his cheeks and the way his nose scrunches up at something in his dream—you can’t help but smile at the boy who has you wrapped up in his arms.
It made you wonder when the feeling of his arms around you began to feel different. Hyunjin is Hyunjin, your best friend and nothing more than that. This fake dating thing is just that—fake. It’s a made-up relationship, a scheme to give Hyunjin what he’s always wanted: a college Christmas romance. One that started to feel a little too real to you.
There shouldn’t be feelings involved when it comes to fake dating. Everyone knows that. You can count all the romcoms you’ve ever seen on only one hand, but even you know that rule. But the way Hyunjin hugs you tighter in his sleep causes not only your heart, but your head to race as well. You’re suddenly too warm, the laptop is too loud, and you feel like the weight of the world has just fallen on your shoulders.
Your breathing begins to pick up, but you’re pulled back out of it when you feel Hyunjin move beside you. Your eyes find his half-opened ones; he looks like he could fall back asleep at any moment.
“Are you okay?” he mumbles before letting out a yawn, his arms still secure around you.
You hum, pretty much shoving your head into his chest, your eyes focused on his laptop. “I’m okay, Hyunnie.”
Luckily, the sleepy Hyunjin doesn't question it. He just pulls you closer and places a kiss on your hairline, sending your mind into another spiral.
“Just take a nap.” You feel him yawn again. “Just enjoy this time.”
When Hyunjin’s snore fills your ears once more, you let out a breath and do your best to blink away the tears swelling up in your eyes.
This was a big realisation for your brain to handle on a Tuesday night. And you're not sure what to do about it apart from what you do best—ignore it and hope it goes away.
nine.
– december 14th.
Before anyone can even say anything, Hyunjin knows he should be focusing on his art theory class. However, as he’s laying down across his desk with his head resting on his arm, he can’t help but stare at his phone in despair.
It had been seven days—one week—since the magical movie night at your dorm. Since then, all of his messages had gone unresponded—actually, you responded exactly one time: the morning after when Hyunjin had asked about getting breakfast. You were busy.
He mindlessly unlocks his phone, opening his message chain with you. Still no response or even a ‘read’ alert from you at the bottom. Deep down, he knows you haven’t even clicked on his messages if there is no ‘read’ alert, just like how his fridge won’t magically fill up with food if he doesn’t restock it… unless you turned read receipts off entirely, but that’s too much effort for you to do.
He lost count of how many times he told you in high school to turn it off when you were in fights with your friends. You’d keep opening their messages and the fights would only continue when they saw you were ignoring them. You always brushed him off saying that there was no point, that they’d still know anyway.
But here he is, staring at his phone, wishing for something, anything from you. At this point, he would take a ‘read at 3:25pm’ over the vacancy his inbox seems to taunt him with.
He only realises that class is over when the mass of people in the lecture hall scramble around him to leave. Hyunjin picks up his head from his table and sits there a moment longer.
The other students make a beeline for the door, the professor glances at Hyunjin still sitting there and shakes their head, before following the students out the semi-open door, closing it behind them. Even with everyone’s presence in the room gone, it still feels just as empty as it did twenty minutes before.
His phone lights up and a little bit of joy enters his heart, only for it to be smashed into pieces when the words become clear.
Binnie : YO !!
Binnie : free to get lunch or you with y/n?
Hyunjin responds with a simple ‘i’m free.’ He locks his phone and shoves it into his pocket before throwing his messenger bag over his shoulder, dragging himself out of the lecture hall to wherever Changbin and the gang are.
…
Hyunjin can hear them before he sees them.
Jisung’s incessant screams and Changbin’s laughter are both way too loud for Hyunjin to put up with in that moment. But still, he wonders, following the sounds as they grow closer and closer and the two clowns (said with affection) become clear.
Jisung’s too busy running around the picnic table, screaming about something with Changbin laughing so hard he has tears streaming down his face. Next to him is a silent-as-ever Chan, watching in amusement with a dopey smile present on his lips.
It goes silent when Hyunjin drops his bag with a thud on the table. It makes him wince and the stares from three of his friends makes him wish the world would swallow him whole. It’s still silent when he throws one leg over the bench and sits himself down, bringing the other leg in before using his bag as a pillow.
Three, two, one… he thinks.
“What’s up with you?”
There it is. Hyunjin ignores the question as he tries to push his head further into his bag.
“Hyun?” Chan’s voice is softer than the other two boys. Whilst he knows the other two mean well, it’s a lot more comforting when it’s coming from Chan. “Are you okay?”
It takes all of his strength to pick his head up off of the table and look at the eldest of the four boys. Hyunjin feels as if his default look is to frown and when the other two boys clock on, Jisung is sat down next to him in a flash.
“Bro,” Changbin starts. “You look as if your mum told you you’d never see Kkami again.”
This clown (again said with affection) really did not have the slightest indication of how to comfort someone. There was something unique about Changbin, he had heart, but brains? That and reading the room wasn’t always his strong suit.
“I think what he means is,” Chan rephrases, “you look really down in the dumps. What’s up, buddy?” There he goes, talking as if he’s seventy when he’s barely twenty-six.
“Y/N hasn’t spoken to me in a week…” Hyunjin mumbles, letting his head fall back onto his bag. “Do you think she hates me?” he asks, but to the trio it comes out more like, ‘o u inks smates me?’
He isn’t sure who places a hand on his back—he assumes it’s Jisung with the angle. All he knows is he can feel a cold hand just barely pressing through his hoodie.
“Maybe she’s busy?” Jisung says, patting Hyunjin’s back lightly. “She’ll send her usual emoji update when she’s ready.”
Hyunjin only picks up his head again so his friends can hear him. “She hasn’t even read any of my messages.”
It’s quiet, too quiet. When he sits up to look at them and Jisung’s hand falls from his back, Hyunjin’s frown just enhances. The boys look at each other, frowns present on their own faces. Hyunjin doesn’t think they completely understand the situation. But then again, neither can he.
“What do I do?” he says.
“She’s probably busy with exams…” Jisung blurts out, looking at the two boys sitting across from them before looking back at Hyunjin.
“Yeah!” Changbin pipes in. “Plus her internship! That’s probably keeping her busy too, especially since it’s close to Christmas!”
Hyunjin looks over at Chan, he’s silent like usual. He has a sad smile on his face, like he wants to say something to calm Hyunjin’s worries, but he’s just not exactly sure what those words are.
“Thanks guys…” Hyunjin does his best to smile.
Jisung brings him in for a tight hug. Even though he normally would have, Hyunjin doesn’t try to push him away. The coos from the two other boys make his heart feel just a bit warmer.
…
– december 15th.
Hyunjin should have called first. But with how silent you’ve been over the past eight days, he knew you wouldn’t have picked up. So here he stands, two pizza boxes in one hand as he tries to pluck up the courage to finally knock on your door after standing outside it for god knows how long.
He wonders if you’ll smell the pizza from inside and open the door yourself so he wouldn’t have to knock. A boy can dream.
He clenches his fist so hard it turns white. Takes a deep breath, releases it. Takes another one. He thinks about how he’ll knock on the count of three—but then procrastinates even more by thinking about if he means he’d do it on three or after three.
In actuality, he doesn’t need to do anything when the sound of your door unlocking makes him smile slightly. He knew you’d smell the pizza.
When the door opens up wide enough, you jump back slightly in surprise. Hyunjin can barely believe himself either. He’s actually here… in all his anxious glory.
“Hyunjin…”
Your face visibly pales, causing Hyunjin to frown. Did you really not want to see him that badly? Over a week of nothing and this is how you react when you see him again?
He looks down at your outfit. You’ve got your puffer coat on and your bag draped across your chest, sending the puffiness out in awkward directions. “Where are you going?”
“I– I’ve got class,” you stutter.
“Oh.” Hyunjin’s shoulders drop.
He motions to the pizza boxes in his hand and smiles sheepishly. He watches how your eyes glance at them before darting off in another direction.
“I thought we could chill and have pizza, like normal,” he explains, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m sorry, I forgot you had class today and…” Hyunjin pauses. He takes another deep breath as he watches you, waiting to see if you’d finally look at him. “I was just wondering if we could talk… it’s been a while you know?”
One of your hands comes up to fiddle with the hair behind your left ear. Hyunjin takes note of how you bite at your bottom lip.
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that.”
Hyunjin blinks. You’re still avoiding his gaze.
“Can we at least talk quickly?” he asks. He can’t tell if he’s grateful or not when you open the door wider for him to enter.
“Okay. Just make it quick.”
He shuffles inside, placing the pizza boxes down on the coffee table that once held his laptop as their makeshift fireplace. Turning back to you, Hyunjin now sees how your hands are shoved into your pockets. Your coat is zipped all the way up so you can hide your face in your collar.
“Where have you been?” The question escapes his lips before he can even register it.
He’s watching you for every single change in your body language, every little muscle movement. Anything that will clue him into what the heck is happening.
“I’m sorry,” you say, barely above a whisper. “I’ve been busy with schoolwork, and my internship is piling more on me because Christmas is coming up.” Just like Changbin had thought. But even then, it didn’t feel enough.
“You could have said something,” Hyunjin sighs. “Anything. Even just an emoji like you usually do when you’re cramming.”
He’s surprised when you have nothing to say. You’re just hiding in your coat collar and he can see the distressed look on your face. Hyunjin has never felt more confused in his life, and here you are, doing nothing to help. He feels as if he’s questioning every life choice he’s made up to this point.
“Are you okay?” he speaks again after another moment. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”
Hyunjin feels like tiny needles are being pricked into his heart, and your silence is pushing them deeper. The more seconds that tick by, the more his heart crumbles in his chest.
He watches as you take a deep breath in. He watches you as you exhale.
“About that…” You gulp and take another breath. “We should stop this… we should break up.”
Hyunjin can hear the glass house around him break into hundreds and thousands of little pieces. He’s sure that in all that rubble is his heart—pierced and splinted, bleeding out from each wound. Yet all that he can do is blink.
“...What?”
For the first time in his life, he cannot read a single expression or feeling on your face. It’s like he’s been placed in the middle of the desert; no map, no compass, nothing. He’s lost, afraid, and so, so alone. And you’re just standing there, a mere few feet away from him, unable to even look him in the eye.
“We should end our agreement.” You’re fiddling with the strap on your bag as if to keep your mind from spiralling or wondering. “Look, everything with class and my internship is getting busier, and you wanted Christmas dates, right?”
You gulp again. Hyunjin is just silent. He can’t even nod.
“You got what you wanted. You got the dates and to experience a Christmas romance.” You finally look him in the eye, and it’s like one final stab to his heart. “So we should end this now, so we can both focus on the things we need to.”
You’re finally staring at each other, battling it out silently for who can keep their hold the longest. It’s torture and Hyunjin’s never felt pain like this… it pierces into his stomach so bad that he wants to throw up.
“Hyunjin—”
Before you can even finish your sentence, you’re cut off by the sound of the door unlocking. Your eyes widen in surprise as Yeri, your usually missing roommate, walks through the door. She has a suitcase behind her, probably back from whatever adventure she’s been on with her girlfriend.
You seem glad to see her back in one piece, but god, did she have the worst timing. It makes Hyunjin want to scream. Why now, of all times, did she have to decide to come home? Right when Hyunjin’s in the middle of being ‘dumped’ by the person he’s in love with?
Yeri looks up in shock, takes one of her airpods out of her ear, and grins sheepishly.
“Oh, I’m sorry…” Her eyes flicker between you and Hyunjin. She’s not sure what to make of the awkward atmosphere, but Hyunjin doesn’t blame her. “I’ll…” She motions to her bedroom door to insinuate the end of her sentence, before dragging her suitcase behind her.
When the soft click of her door closing behind her is heard, you turn your attention back to Hyunjin. You open your mouth to speak, but before you can utter a word, he shakes his head.
“No.” He doesn’t even let you begin.
He wants to scream and cry out, not only in confusion, but in what Hyunjin can’t tell is anger or just pure sadness. He doesn’t, partly because he knows Yeri is within earshot, but also because he doesn’t know if he has the energy. His mind is making so many laps and leaps trying to figure out everything that he just wants to lie down.
He gasps for air. His eyes feel misty and he wants to do nothing but run.
“I get it,” he mutters, looking away. “You can have what you want.”
Hyunjin says no more, leaving the discarded pizzas on the coffee table. He ignores the way his heart stings when you don’t call after him. He doesn’t even bother to wait for the elevator, choosing to rush down the stairs to get out of the building as fast as possible whilst wiping his cheeks haphazardly with the back of his sleeve.
He once again wants the world to swallow him whole—or for him to sleep for the rest of the Christmas season. Because, honestly, none of it seems worth it anymore.
ten.
– december 18th.
How is it possible that three days can feel like an eternity?
‘We should end this.’ Your voice repeats in Hyunjin’s brain in a constant loop. It torments him when he’s awake and stays to haunt him in his dreams. ‘We should break up.’
The first day felt like torture. All he wanted to was rant about you, to you. Sure, he could go to his other friends, but when you’re his first choice… what could he do? He couldn’t call or text you now that he wants to more than over. He wanted to cry at the sound of your voice and beg you to reconsider—to go on real dates with him—to have a real Christmas romance.
‘You got what you wanted.’
Day two was just as hard. When he hadn’t blown up the group chat over some random thing in over twenty-four hours, this was when his friends got worried. So they blew up his phone instead with a mixture of concern and heartfelt care, and whatever you call Jisung’s messages. Hyunjin decided to ignore them, but kept checking his phone on the off-chance he’d get a text from you. Eventually, he turned over his phone and rolled over in his bed, shutting his eyes and hoping the world would disappear for a bit.
‘You got the dates, you got to experience a Christmas romance.’
Now here he sits, on day three, in the trio’s shared off-campus apartment. He only begrudgingly got out of bed when Jisung threatened to start screaming outside his door. He’s lying sideways across the couch, his feet propped up against the armchair. He hasn’t washed his hair in too long, he vaguely thinks a family of birds might nest in it someday, and his grey sweats have a big blotch of brown on one leg. He spilled hot Americano on himself when he got home after your breakup, but he didn’t have the energy to change out of them.
He knows he shouldn’t be calling it a breakup when you two were never really together. But when his feelings are completely and utterly real, it really feels like one. He feels his eyes start to become misty again, and he shoves his head into his sweater paws as he tries to bury himself in the sofa more.
‘So we should end this now.’
Chan, Changbin, and Jisung are all watching from the barely-used dining table. They are at a loss for words, they hadn’t thought about the possibility of you and Hyunjin ever breaking up. To everyone in the friend group, you two were set for life, ride-or-dies, the sunshine to the flowers. To them, there was never any possibility of a break up. They just didn’t get it.
Changbin takes a sip of his protein shake through a bright pink curly straw, and huffs. “This is weird, dudes.” He looks over at the two other boys, who still have their eyes on Hyunjin. “He’s never been like this with anyone.”
“Y/N isn’t just anyone, though,” Chan responds.
“Yeah,” Jisung sighs, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. His eyes still bore into Hyunjin. “They’re, like, totally made for each other.”
Hyunjin brings his hands away slightly, sending the best glare he could manage. To the boys, however, it was more pitiful than scary, like a kicked puppy. All they want to do is scoop him up and never let him go until his heart is unbroken.
“You know I can hear you, right?” Hyunjin asks. “And to be honest, I really don’t like all this mumbling.”
The boys don’t hold his bad mood against him. He’s upset, frustrated, and they know he’ll apologise when he’s feeling better. Chan takes the lead, opening his mouth to speak before the other two dummies could say anything to make Hyunjin more upset.
“We’re sorry, we’re just confused on why you guys broke up,” he explains. The other two boys nod their heads as the eldest speaks. “You two have always seemed so perfect for each other.”
They notice how Hyunjin’s shoulders drop and he goes to hide his face in his sweater paws again. His words come out all muffled and Chan, Changbin, and Jisung all glance at each other to see if any of them understood what he said.
“What was that?” Chan asks. Hyunjin yanks his sweater paws away from his face, turning his head sharply at the boys.
“We never broke up, okay?!”
The trio can now really see how glassy Hyunjin’s eyes have become. They exchange concerned glances with each other, frowns of their own also covering their faces.
“W-Wait. What do you m—”
Hyunjin cuts Chan off with a hiccup.
“We— we were never really together... So w-we never really broke up.”
The boys are stunned, confused and so completely stunned. They don’t know where to even begin to wrap their heads around the confession. But it also leads them to the next question, if it was all fake… why was Hyunjin so distraught now that it was over?
Now it didn’t take a genius to figure that out, but it was better to hear it from Hyunjin himself.
“Okay,” Chan gulps, “do you want to start from the beginning?”
So Hyunjin starts from the beginning. He starts off with the confession from Jisoo that was totally not the vibe. He talks about how he went to you to whine about how he was losing his chance for a college christmas romance, to how you suggested he should fake date someone to get the experiences he wanted. To how he had decided you were his perfect person for the task.
“Why didn’t you just tell us it was fake, man?” Changbin asks, “it wouldn’t have been that much of a deal.”
Hyunjin sighs, falling back into the chair and letting his head fall backwards so he can look up at the ceiling.
“I don’t know, just wanted it to seem more realistic I guess.” He sighs.
“Well…” Jisung continues, “what happened next?”
So Hyunjin continues with his story. He talks about the decorating of your dorm, he ignores the comment from Jisung about that’s how your apartment got that way. He goes on to talk about the movie night and the cookies to the ice skating, and he talks about the Christmas tree farm.
“From there…” Hyunjin slows down and pauses.
The trio is silent, waiting for the blond to admit what they all know. They’re not sure how long he’s silent for, it could have been only a second, but in that moment it could have also been a lifetime.
“From there… It was different.”
He looks over to the three boys at the dining table. He felt like his heart was cracking in a whole new different way. When he was keeping it to himself, he could shove it into a little box and act as if it was something future-Hyunjin had to deal with. But now this present version of him hated past him for even thinking about putting the emotions aside to begin with.
“I don’t know when it happened, or if it happened long before I even realised it, but she’s different. She’s her version of perfect and now it’s blown up in my face.” Hyunjin’s frown is contagious. “I– I love her and now she wants nothing to do with me anymore.”
“I’m sure that’s not true…” Changbin tries to sympathise, but Hyunjin just shakes his head.
“You should have seen her, she would barely look at me.” Hyunjin begins to hiccup again. “She’s the love of my life and it ended before it even started.”
Jisung opens his mouth to speak, but Chan quickly nudges him in the side to be quiet. When Jisung looks at the older boy, all Chan does is shake his head. A look on his face saying let him get this out.
“Ever since the Christmas tree farm, she’s been different, she’s amazing and kind–” Hyunjin hiccups, blinking away the tears he could feel welling up in his eyes. “She has this sparkle about her and even though I know it annoyed her, she still let me go on and on about how I wanted a perfect college Christmas romance when with her… I don’t need perfection.”
“What are you going to do?”
Hyunjin feels like curling up into a ball. He wishes for his friends to stop staring at him. He wants to hide, he wants to cry, and he wants to eat his body weight in a food that isn’t going to remind him of you– not that there were many types of those things.
“I need to give her the space she wanted,” Hyunjin states. “She can do the things she needs to: focus on work and her internship. And I'll wait…”
“Wait for her?” Jisung says.
Hyunjin nods. “I’ll wait forever if I have to.”
eleven.
– december 14th.
When the soft click of her door closing behind her is heard, you turn your attention back to him. You open your mouth to speak, but before you can utter a word, he shakes his head.
“No.” He doesn’t even let you begin.
He gasps for air and you can see him blinking rapidly. You feel your heart tear in two.
“I get it,” he mutters. “You can have what you want.”
Before you can utter another word, he’s out the door. You’re sure the pizza he leaves behind is cold by now, but even if you were hungry a few minutes ago, you’re not anymore. What you want more is for him to turn around, to come back when you call out to him.
But he’s gone. It’s too late.
“Okay, so what was that all about?” Yeri’s voice breaks you out of your trance.
You’re not sure how long it’s been since Hyunjin left your dorm, your door is still wide open, and you haven’t even moved a muscle. Even though you have class in twenty minutes—that part you didn’t lie about—you want nothing but to run into your room and hide there for the rest of the year.
You clear your throat and your hands go back to the strap of your bag to keep them entertained. “I… I don’t know what you’re on about.”
You haven’t even turned to look at her and you know that she knows you’re lying through your teeth.
“Uh huh,” Yeri tuts.
You hear her footsteps get closer to you before she’s come up beside you and is now in eye view.
“So no trouble going on with Mr Blond Best Friend, then?” she continues to question.
You stay silent in response, not trusting your own voice. Your eyes start to feel wet. You were able to keep up an act in front of Hyunjin, but now that he’s gone and the vision of his teary eyes keeps repeating in your mind, it’s getting more and more difficult to pretend.
“Nothing’s going on,” you clear your throat again. Tugging on your crossbody bag, you look at her once before rushing to the door. “I need to go to class, glad to see you back.”
Yeri can’t even get another word out as you rush out the door, slamming it behind you. You unknowingly take the same route as Hyunjin, rushing down the stairs to get out of the building as quickly as possible.
Once the cold air hits you, you take a deep breath and wipe your cheeks with the back of your hands.
You had to, it was the only option.
“Hyunjin!” you call out, looking all around you. Several students push by you, some wearing holiday pyjamas or Santa hats. You don’t understand how they can feel even an ounce of Christmas spirit right now.
You try running somewhere, anywhere, ducking and weaving through the pack of students making their way to wherever they want to go. There are hundreds of students out, yet you can pick out one blond head from the crowd.
“Hyunjin!”
You run faster. Before you’re able to process it, someone on an electric scooter whizzes by, knocking you off your feet. You yelp and stretch your arms out to catch yourself.
And now you’re on the ground. Groaning, you slowly move to get up. Hundreds of students pass by where you lie, but not one stops to help you. Until…
“Oh my god, Y/N!”
You light up for a second at the familiar voice. Once you realise who it is, you roll over, deflated.
Jisung gasps. “You look like death! What happened to you?!”
You blink once. “Gee, thanks,” you say flatly.
The boy stares at you for a second before finally reaching a hand out. You take it and he pulls you up.
“O-Okay, but seriously, what happened?” he says. “Are you okay?”
You search his eyes for a moment before shrugging. What are you supposed to say to Jisung? That you just ruined your friendship with the love of your life?
“It’s about Hyunjin, isn’t it?” Jisung says, his voice softer. The way he’s watching you makes you tear up all over again. He seems to let you process for another moment before reaching over, rubbing your shoulder gently.
“Look,” he sighs, “I… I know you two weren’t real. I honestly thought you were, though.” He then mutters something along the lines of, “So I didn’t owe our friend group sixty dollars after all.”
“That’s your first thought right now?”
“Wait, nonono!” Jisung’s stance changes in a snap and begins frantically smoothing out your outfit, ruffling your messy hair and making it even messier. “It’s okay, it’s okay, everything will beeee okaaayyy.”
You groan and roll your eyes fondly, but you let him continue.
“Okay, but for real now…” He rubs your shoulder again. “I think you should tell him.”
A breath hitches in the back of your throat. “Tell him… what exactly?”
He sighs deeply. “You know what I mean, Y/N.”
It’s your turn to sigh, and you look down at your shoes as your eyes well up again. Jisung smiles sadly at you and pulls you into a hug.
“He misses you, you know that?” he says. You nod, shoving your face in his shoulder before he can see you cry. “And don’t worry, I won’t tell him you miss him, too. That’s your job.”
In between sobs, you nod.
“And once you two get together, I can get my damn money back,” Jisung grumbles.
You let out a wet chuckle and hold onto him for another minute. You’re terrified of what may happen, but no amount of fear in your body is worth the heartbreak you feel right now.
twelve.
– december 24th.
Hyunjin feels… something.
Every year on Christmas Eve, the boy would scramble to get to bed early, so he could be asleep by the time Santa comes. Obviously, though, he’s since outgrown that tradition, but now he stays up till midnight like every other teenager and college student, counting down the seconds to Christmas Day. It’s as if Christmas is Hyunjin’s pre-New Year of sorts. He may not believe in Santa anymore, but the childlike wonder and excitement he gets during this time of year has never changed. He’s all jumpy and hyper and jittery like a kid who ate too much candy, eagerly awaiting the day that the movies and the lights and the snow have made so magical.
And this year, for the first time ever, he might not be counting down alone.
Going the past week without hearing the sound of your voice felt like walking barefoot through a pit full of Legos—doubly so because he saw you on campus during finals week talking to Jisung once. Jisung! Out of everyone in your friend circle, of course you were still talking to the one who flirts with everyone for fun. At least he didn’t wink at you this time…
But after what felt like aeons of being sent to voicemail, you finally called him back six days, sixteen hours, and forty-seven minutes ago. You said something about meeting up for lunch the day after or something; he barely remembers anything from that call other than that you called. That lunch at the university cafe wasn’t much different. He was so relieved that you were in front of him talking to him again that he wasn’t paying much attention to what you were actually saying.
…Okay, maybe that’s a lie. You rearranged the Christmas decorations he had thrown all over your dorm on your first date, you got all your Christmas shopping done, and you have a super-duper special date planned for Christmas Eve. Dress warm. You’ll pick him up at 8 for dinner. And you’ll both be getting home late.
Hyunjin can see his breath just past his nose as he checks out his reflection in the glass window panes of the university library. He picked out his best winter coat for tonight—the one that goes with almost any outfit he could put together, but also doesn’t take the limelight off of yours. He also broke out the pristine white sneakers—you know, the ones he cleans frantically after every use. Were they going to get dirty in the snow? Maybe a little. But it’s you, and they go so well with his sweater and jeans. You deserve his best fit.
He knows nothing about what your plan is for tonight. All he knows is that you’ll be here in five minutes, his stomach is doing flips inside him, and he’s got shivers going up his spine.
Hyunjin feels something—he just can’t name what that something is. All the adjectives he can think of don’t feel quite right. The closest he can get is ‘tingly’, and even then, he can’t explain why he landed on that particular word. But when you pull up at the library and roll down your window, all the words he’s ever learned fly out the door.
No combination of letters could capture how beautiful you are to him.
…
Hyunjin is surprised to find himself back in the heart of downtown. This time, it’s after a lovely meal and hours-long conversation with you, and you’re the one guiding him around now.
He swivels his head around as he lets you lead, taking in all the glittery Christmas lights the same way you are. Quickly, he recognizes you’re taking the same path he once did to the cafe where you two watched the light switch. He feels like he’s on the Polar Express to the North Pole—yes, of course he was watching the movie before your date tonight. It’s a Christmas must.
Wait… fake date. He nearly forgot these dates aren’t real.
He’s not sure why he let himself get away with calling all these real dates. Clearly, it made you uncomfortable to the point where you felt the need to fake-break up with him. He’s also not sure if he should consider himself lucky that the breakup wasn’t real.
Does this mean the fake Christmas romance thing is back on? You two never actually discussed it, but you did also ask him on a… fake date.
Despite this, there’s still something in the air that’s giving him that tingly feeling. He’s still not sure if that’s the right word. He just knows that standing right next to you on the balcony of an abandoned cafe to witness the arrival of Christmas Day… it feels so, so right. Almost like everything is falling into place.
“Hyunnie… can we talk?”
—
Hyunjin turns to you, his gaze soft, and you freeze in place. Did you really just say that? Now? What if you ruin Christmas Eve and Christmas because you didn’t wait?
You sigh to yourself, a small puff of air escaping your mouth. You know that this was something you needed to do, both for yourself and your peace of mind. Maybe Jisung, too, and whatever lost money he was moping about that one time. But there’s still ten minutes to midnight. Is that too soon?
No. It’s not. If anything, it’s long overdue. No more running. Plus, if he’s truly your best friend and he doesn’t like you back, nothing should change… right? At least, not for the long term.
“Is everything okay?”
Hyunjin’s honey voice pulls you out of your thoughts. Hyunnie, sweet like honey… wait, Y/N, don’t get distracted. It’s almost midnight.
Take a deep breath.
“Hyunnie, um…” You fiddle with a small object in your pocket as you try to think.
When you look up, he’s nodding. “Yeah?”
Deep breath.
“I’m sorry… I'm sorry for ghosting you and stopping this so suddenly.” You’re blinking and Hyunjin watches as you open your mouth to speak before closing it again. Like the words are at the tip of your tongue, but the courage just hasn’t bubbled up enough. “I…” You take a breath, looking up at anywhere but him as you mumble to yourself, “God, this is so much harder than I thought it’d be.”
You take a little shuffle forward.
“I… I think I realised too late, and by the time I realised, I freaked out and just… I shut down.” You look at him, your eyes boring into each other like you’re both trying to find the centre of each other’s soul. It's too much for you to stomach while you struggle to pull words out of your throat, so you let your gaze fall.
“Realised what?” Hyunjin whispers. You somehow hear it over the crowd of people forming below you.
You shuffle forward unconsciously again, keeping your eyes down.
“Do— do you hate me?” Hyunjin says.
Eyes wide, you snap your head up and shake your head quickly. “N-No! Of course not.”
“Then what—”
Your gaze shoots down and your hand goes for Hyunjin’s. A small gasp leaves his mouth before your brain catches up with the rest of you.
When you finally have the courage to look back up, it’s like everything has blurred into the background. Everything except the boy in front of you, who looks about as shocked as you are at yourself. Is this it? Is this going to be your Hallmark moment?
Deep breath.
“I love you.”
Hyunjin’s eyes grow wider, his mouth opening and closing like a fish a couple times. He probably thinks someone took over your body, that this isn’t really you.
“You… love me?”
You nod and smile. It’s hard to tell if he’s still in disbelief, but honestly, you can barely believe you’re saying these words. But you mean every single one of them.
“I do… and there’s no one else I’d rather have a Christmas romance with.”
There’s a feverish look grazing Hyunjin’s face, his mouth opened just slightly as he gasps quietly. You swear you can see little stars adorning his pretty brown eyes.
“Well,” you clarify quickly, “a college Christmas romance. But I don’t think I want this to end after we graduate.”
Hyunjin’s eyes are crinkling at the edges, his nose scrunching just slightly with the force of his joy. You’re sure of two things in that moment. One, your own expression must look just as lovesick as his. And two, you’ve never seen anyone as beautiful as Hyunjin under the glow of the lights surrounding the plaza.
“Y/N, I… can I kiss you?”
From somewhere in the streets below, you recognize the gathered crowd beginning the countdown to midnight. You barely pay it half a mind as you pull the object from your pocket. Hyunjin’s eyes follow you as you hold it up over your heads. It’s a small sprig of mistletoe, and you can’t help the proud smile that sweeps across your face.
“You know, you wanted to hit all the Christmas traditions and you forgot one of the best ones.”
“God, I love you.”
You practically jump into his arms when he presses his lips against yours. Fireworks explode in your chest as the clock rings twelve and cheers erupt from the streets below. It’s all a buzz in your head, though, as you cup Hyunjin’s cheeks in your hands and melt into his arms and lips and just him.
You hope he never tries to chase perfection again, because you’re sure that this moment, right now, is the definition of it. Nothing has ever felt so perfect, so right, and nothing else will ever come close.
As if on cue, when you two slowly break the kiss, you feel something wet land on your head. You and your not fake boyfriend?—you’ll have to talk to him about that later—look up to see fluffy, white snowdrops falling all around you two.
“Merry Christmas, Hyunnie,” you say, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
Hyunjin has the biggest smile on his face as you pull away. “Merry Christmas, Y/N.”
You let out a joyful giggle. It looks like Hyunjin got the cheesy Christmas romance he’s been searching his whole life for. It might not have gone the exact way he’d dreamed of, but you hope he is as happy as he has always made you.
And maybe, just maybe, you also got the ending you’d been dreaming of all along.
#straykidsland#kflixnet#kwritersworldnet#stray kids#stray kids written#stray kids x reader#stray kids fanfic#stray kids imagine#stray kids imagines#skz#skz x reader#skz fanfic#skz imagine#skz imagines#hyunjin#hang hyunjin#hyunjin fluff#hyunjin angst#hyunjin fanfic#hyunjin fic#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin x you#hyunjin imagine#skz hyunjin#bystay#merry skzmas#merry christmas
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Kiss, Marry, Kill: Part 2/2 (LA!Buggy the Clown x F!Reader)
Summary: In which Buggy saves your bacon and you continue to lie to yourself.
Pairing: LA!Buggy the Clown x F!Reader
Rating: Explicit.
Word Count: ~2.3k (of 5.3k)
Warnings: Canon-typical violence, sexual fantasies, needles.
A/N: I was going to wait a few days to post this, build some anticipation, but y'all thirsty and I am a woman of the people.
---
Does Buggy feel a twinge of regret as he hauls ass out of Arlong Park? Sure, but not out of any sense of honor or decency or whatever. He just wishes he could have seen your lovely face one last time.
And he must have racked up some good karma recently, because he does indeed see your lovely face. It's curled up in a snarl as a fishman bears down upon you, but it's hot in a warrior princess kind of way.
You throw a right hook that collides with the fishman’s jaw, but no dice. He belts you right in the mouth. It lays you flat, but you take it like a champ and pop right back up.
He hates the idea of such a pretty face being marred in such an unfair fight. So he lends a hand.
Detaching said hand, he sends it floating toward the scuffle. A hard pinch on the ass throws the fishman off guard with a yelp.
You see the opening and slam him across the face once, twice, a third time. He collapses to the side. You waste no time jumping atop him, straddling his chest as you wallop his face into hamburger.
Still kinda hot.
Satisfied that he’s unconscious, you climb to your feet, resting your hands on your hips as you catch your breath. You run a hand through your hair, mussing it in a most handsome way.
Buggy saunters up behind you. Not particularly quietly, but you’re so winded you must not notice. He hovers his chin right over your shoulder. “Boo.”
You screech. Loudly. And whirl around and throw a haymaker that he only just catches with his remaining hand.
“Aw, c’mon,” he grumbles. “That any way to treat your coffee soulmate?”
You blink at him. “When’d you— How— What?”
He recalls his other hand. It reattaches with a little flourish. “Saved your life, babe. You're welcome.”
You look around, then frown. You give his chest a weak shove and stumble away. “I gotta… gotta find Usopp…!”
“Up-bup-bup. Not so fast.” He snags you by the back of the shirt and pulls you back. You whine in protest. "You owe me, Miss Sawbones.”
You scowl at him. “I didn’t ask for help.”
“No, but you got it. Which means…” He taps the tip of your nose. “You.” Tap. “Owe.” Tap. “Me.”
“Fine. Whatever. Cash it in later when I’m not in a rush.” You try to run again, and again he snatches you. “What’s your problem?!”
“My problem is that, if everything comes up Buggy, I’m never going to see you shitheels again.” He leans in close enough for his nose to bump yours. “But I don't like having unfinished business.”
Your eyes are so hot that steam might as well be coming out of your ears. “Just tell me what you want and fuck off.”
Finally, just what he wanted to hear. But what to ask for? You most certainly don't have money. And the map's a wash — even if you could get it, all your little friends would beat him black and blue. No, this has to be something that will get under your skin. Pull your pigtails a little. Hurt your pride.
Like a ray of divine inspiration, it hits him. He can't help but grin as he steps towards you. You take a step back. He matches it. Another step. Another. He backs you right into a tree.
He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, tracing his finger down your jaw to tip your chin up. He pulls out his best imitation of that damn cook. "Give us a kiss, love."
Your face screws up in disgust. You slap his hand and try to jump away, only for him to grab your arm. Swinging you back around, he pulls you flush against him, his free hand on your waist. He revels in your warmth. He missed his body so much.
He puckers his lips. “C'mon, just a little smooch. Won’t even use tongue.”
You yank your arm from his grip and stare up at him. Grabbing him by the collar, you jerk him downwards. He braces himself for a slap. Or maybe a punch. That seems more your style.
But then you yank him forwards and his lips collide with yours and every joint, every tendon, every inch of sinew in his body locks up. It's all he can do not to topple into a thousand parts and pieces.
He's in shock. He never freezes. Not in the middle of a performance, not in the middle of a fight, and certainly not in the process of sweet talking a kiss out of a pretty little thing.
And yet, here he barely stands. Probably because it’s none of those things — there's no one around, the fight's over, and you're not a pretty little thing. You're a very beautiful grown woman.
His heart flutters against his ribs like a starved hummingbird barred from a flower. He wants more. He wants everything. He wants you.
Oh, this isn't good. It's never good when he catches feelings. Especially not this quickly. Never ends well for him.
...but maybe this time...
You pull away with a pop, but your grip on his waistcoat stays strong. Your mouth remains open, and you waggle your lower jaw, running your lip along your bottom teeth. Your tongue darts out to lick your lips.
He wants to lick them too.
You let out a yip as he swings you down and dips you low, one hand on your neck and the other hooked under your leg. You gaze up at him with wide eyes, twinkling like mischievous little stars.
He dives in for the encore before he can lock up again. Somewhere, some idiot sets off fireworks.
Oh, what a kiss. It’s the kind of kiss they write songs about. The kind that breaks fairy tale curses and turns frogs into princes. The kind that lonely sailors dream of, wishing on shooting stars for someone to love. Someone to laugh with, argue with, cry with, share a treasure with, share a bunk with, share a crown with. Someone to be his and his alone.
And then he feels it. A little nudge against his lips. He pulls away in surprise. “So much for no tongue.”
Smears of red lipstick and flakes of white greasepaint coat your lips. You lick them anyways. “I never agreed to that.” You throw your arms around his neck and force your way inside his mouth.
Now it's the sort of kiss that haunts the dreams of all men. Fiery. Slick. Dexterous. You stroke his teeth and nip his lips and fill his mouth in due measure. He can barely keep up.
The images come unbidden. You, lying across his bed, eyeing him like a tigress eyes her meal. Him, ripping your shirt off to get at those delicious breasts. You, bouncing on his cock, moaning like a whore. Him, flipping you over to fuck you more efficiently. You, begging and whining as you hit your peak. Him, climaxing so hard he sees lightning. You, resting your head against his chest as you drift off to sleep. Him, pulling you closer and burying his face in your hair and whispering sweet little things that you won’t remember—
God damn, are all your kisses like this? Is this what you treat every man to? A lightning strike, a cool plunge, a searing brand, all in one? What kind of devil did you make a deal with to be so beguiling?
His head spins like a carousel as you pull away, from either shock or oxygen deprivation. Probably both.
Even more old paint covers your face. And you still don’t care. Your chest heaves and your gaze burns as you lick your chops.
While his brain processes what just happened, his poor, stupid heart takes the wheel and shoots its shot. “Wanna come with?” he rasps.
The smolder in your eyes snuffs out and your brows scrunch. “Huh?”
“Ditch the punks. Join up with me. It'll be great."
You blink a few times, eyes darting around. “Why?”
Why? A kiss like that and you’re asking why? “Group of weirdos like us could always use haircuts.”
That marvelous sound leaves your lips. First that glorious snnnrrrk and then that clattery laughter. Your face lights up with glee, your pretty teeth on full display. “Sell me on it.”
That’s a good sign. “Your own cabin. An operating theater. More treasure than you can carry and the best barber chair it can buy.”
Your smile grows. You slip a finger below his chin as you gaze up through your eyelashes. “Sweeten the pot.”
Oh, that’s a dangerous look. His mouth starts writing checks his ego certainly won’t let him cash. “Your own act. Your name in lights. And you can kiss me like that whenever you want."
Those eyes turn downright smoky. You say in a low, low voice, "Just kiss you?"
He almost drops you. All the blood rushing to his cheeks stops dead in his arteries. Then it waterfalls all the way back down.
He jerks you upwards and presses his lips to your ear. “I’ll screw you to the wall every night and eat your cunt like a wild dog every morning. How’s that sound?”
A little hiccup of a gasp escapes you. “Sounds— Sounds good to me, Captain.”
He's ready to throw you over his shoulder like a sack of flour when something whistles through the air above him. He looks up. Pain explodes across his jaw, popping his head off and sending the rest of him sprawling.
It takes him a moment to shake the stars out of his eyes and get the blood back where it belongs. The sniper kid stands a few yards away, quaking in his boots as he loads up his slingshot. Next to him, you scramble to your feet, clutching your makeup-smeared hand.
"Nice timing," you say to Usopp. You pat his shoulder, leaving a streak of white.
“Don’t mention it.” He swallows. "What do we do about him?”
“Iunno. Either kill him or let him buzz off.” You grip your wrist. “Yeow, that hurt…”
Buggy recalls his head to his neck and gives it a good shake. How dare you? How dare you use him like that? Give him feelings only to play with them? What kind of heartless bitch are you?
He's got quite the eloquent insult prepared, but it vanishes as soon as his mouth catches up to his thoughts. “You...!”
He launches his fist at you, but the kid fires off a round from his slingshot. Buggy yelps as a dozen pinpoints of pain pierce his palm, and he recalls it back. There are, in fact, a dozen pins buried deep in his hand. Ow.
He looks up, but the kid is speeding away. You're close behind, but you do glance back. He swears he sees a glint of remorse in your dark eyes, but you're gone moments after.
Alone. Again. After getting his emotions kicked around like a naughty puppy.
Fuck this. Fuck Rubber Boy. Fuck the sniper kid.
And, most of all, fuck you.
—-
You're no good at art, but you're the only person around here with steady hands, a sterile needle, and a willingness to inflict pain. Thus, redoing Nami's tattoo falls to you.
"So how was it?" she asks.
You're so focused on tracing the design onto her arm that you almost don't respond. "Not too bad, if I do say so myself. Might have to adjust the angle."
"Not that. The other thing."
The tangerine connects to the tangerine leaf. The tangerine leaf connects to the pinwheel spoke. “Yes. Of course. The other thing.”
“Heard you kissed the clown.”
The pinwheel spoke connects to the other spoke aaaand the pen slips from your fingers. Fortunately for you, it doesn’t screw up your careful tracing. “We’re gonna need a new sniper when I’m done keelhauling the old one.”
Nami laughs. It’s not bitter anymore, which you’re thankful for. Girl’s been through a lot. “C’mon, how was it?”
You scoff. “Sudden. Sloppy. Tasted like greasepaint and self-loathing.”
You leave out that you actually like all that. Surprise. Spit. Theatrics and desperation. What can you say? You’re a dumb bitch with a bad taste for pathetic men. You accepted this about yourself a long, long time ago.
If Nami picks up on your deception, she doesn’t let it show. “Thanks for taking one for the team, doc.”
Taking one for the team. Yeah. That’s what it was. A distraction. A diversion. You didn’t manipulate a madman’s feelings for you. He didn’t read you like a giant neon sign. Nor did you feel anything in that kiss. Not in any of them.
Certainly not the first time — that was impulse. Nor the second time — that one was thrust upon you. And the third time — brain was preoccupied with stalling for time so your cooch took over for a moment.
A moment that almost led to you abandoning your friends for a psycho, your conscience reminds you.
You shake the guilt off. “I’m not a doctor,” you mutter, “and let us never speak of this again.”
You swear she stares right into your soul. That she knows what you’ve done. But she nods. “Speak about what?”
It takes a few hours, a few curses, and a few tears, but the tattoo comes out great, if you do say so yourself.
And the entire time, you’re distracted by thoughts of a psycho with a very persuasive tongue.
---
Never had you on my mind
Now you're there all the time
Never knew what I missed until I I kissed ya
---
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#buggy the clown#buggy x reader#buggy x you#buggy the clown x reader#one piece x reader#one piece#one piece live action#reader insert#x reader#emberly writes
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𝐌𝐲 𝐉𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐒𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐥𝐝
18+ | For Mature Audiences Only
Pairing: Siren Hyunjin X AFAB Reader
Genre: smut, pirate/siren AU, slight yandere themes
!!WARNINGS!! yandere themes, cream pie, making out, doing it from the back, facefucking/intense blowjobs, fingering, cunnilingus, degradation/slight dumbifcation, DOM HYUNJIN, SUB READER, reader gets super fucked out. I think that's all, but I'm bad at warnings. Also, there is slight control over the mind, but everything is consensual!
Word Count: 7,222
Requested: Yes!
Author's Note: I used several references while writing this including Pirates of the Caribbean, H2O Just Add Water (literally only the moonpool/grotto area, that's what the scene is based on), and the faces I envision the sirens having is basically the vampire faces in "The Vampire Diaries." I also watched One Piece while writing this. Avatar (James Cameron) also inspired the mermaid/siren sex biology. (When they use their hair to touch and that's sex, yeah I did something like that). Reader is a pirate that basically only uses pirate slang around her crew, besides that she talks normal. I figured the pirate slang would get annoying to y'all, so I kept it own.
I hope you like it! I'll be transparent, this fic is the only one I've ever questioned and been tempted to re-write a few times. I'd love to write something like this again, but I do need to practice.
Synopsis: You're a pirate captain that's looking for sirens and mermaids, but what happens when you attack the enemies, and a beautiful siren takes you away for himself?
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EDIT AFTER POSTING: Y'all be making me blush and shit with your feedback. I'm giggling and kicking my feet <3<3<3
For hundreds of years people have roamed the oceans. From sailors on ships to the deadliest pirates of the seven seas, the treacherous waters have taken many lives, not only to the water itself, but the unknown dangers of what lies beneath its surface.
Stories of many kinds have stumbled their way out of survivors and drunken deadbeats. What they saw at sea or what they heard from someone else, anything was plausible in this kind of world. If it came from someone’s mouth, it was bound to be true in one or another. No one can ever be careful enough, so it was better to take everything as truth. Even the most ridiculous sounding claims shouldn’t have been taken lightly.
You were the captain of a large pirate ship named The Corruption. You weren’t the most feared pirate known to man, but you were certainly amongst them. You were the only pirate willing to tread where others never came back from. You had faced the Kraken, not killing it, for your adventure only called to find where it rested to avoid crossing near the area at all costs. You faced several other sea monsters, whether they were larger than three ships or nearly as small as a minnow. In this place, the unknown were considered monsters until proven friendly. You and your crew were one of the reasons the unknown creatures were given names in the first place.
People often wondered about the name of your ship, The Corruption. As far as anyone knew, you weren’t one looking for a good or quick fuck like anyone else when drunk, stressed, or just plain horny. Anyone who would have ever heard your name knew you were one of the bravest captains in the known lands, but they also knew you weren’t one to hurt.
You were known for finding creatures but never hurting them. You never forced your crew to walk the plank or make a sacrifice. You were feared for confidence and bravery, not unjust corruption like other pirates. The name of the ship didn’t make sense. How could you, a captain so understanding, sail a ship with an unfit name? Everyone wondered. But you knew. Only you. Only you had the actual mindset to understand why it would be given such a name, and it was simple: Those who sail on it are corrupted by the wonders, those who sail on it live to tell the tales, and thus are corrupted by the truthfulness filled in the sea. They were not killed, they survived intentionally, as long as the captain had any say in it.
Though there was no reason to fear you, people were still terrified because you were willing to explore what others wouldn’t dare go near. You didn’t take shit from anyone. Your very presence, the kind that was filled with confidence, your willingness to look anyone in the eye, and you could get anyone to tell the truth. You could read a lie from nautical miles away.
This next voyage of yours was not the most dangerous, but somehow it scared the crew and anyone new willing to sign up. You were on the search for something that was only legend. Nothing proven, no one alive to tell the tale, and it was strictly based on sightings, no real interactions. For years there had been narratives of half fish, half humans swimming by ships quickly, like they were doing their best to not be seen. Oftentimes the quick glimpses made were described as beautiful women, long hair flowing down their backs and breasts out with no cover. The Englishmen called them “mermaids.”
You wanted to see them for yourself. It was what you did: searched for the tales, or in this case tails, to prove they were real, and if they’re dangerous and how to avoid them. But you questioned why they were so afraid of beautiful maidens that swam along beside them.
Annoyed by everyone’s lack of commitment, you rounded up your crew and anyone else interested in the voyage.
“What the hell is wrong with this lily-livered crew? You wanna sail, especially on my ship, you’re gonna get the hell on and go. What happened to me swashbucklers?! You have faced the kraken and you’re all scared to go hunt for half fish half humans? Now, all hands hoay!”
Your crew didn’t move, barely budged actually, they just blinked at you. Until one man stepped forward and spoke up.
“Captain, we don’t mean to seem like landlubbers, but rumor has it these mermaids ain’t that friendly. Says they sing with perfect pitch and harmony to lure anyone to their deaths, then snack on them like we’re a hearty meal. We ain’t wanna die to the hands of lust, ya hear?”
In disbelief by such words and rumors you had to understand it was important to be cautious. This wasn’t the type of journey you could just set sail for, it seemed there were more obstacles. You had to come up with more of a plan than a simple aboard ship and sail off.
“If these ‘maids are so dangerous then why is it they swim by our ships without going in for a snack, aye?”
Another mate spoke up to answer your question.
“Captain, it’s been said that they could be related but they ain’t the same creature, savvy? Rumors been calling the ones who sing ‘Sirens’ instead of mermaids. They look the same, but they await on shores singing to lure them whereas mermaids are friendly, helpful fellows.”
“Ya sound like you’re three sheets to the wind. Where’d you hear this scuttlebutt?”
“Came from an old seadog, Captain Rattles, Captain.”
You thought for a moment. Captain Rattles was one hell of a source, to be honest. He sailed the seas for decades, every warning he ever came about ended up to be true. Never once had he lied to crews and captains. He was a pirate to behold, really.
“Fine. I’m gonna have a meeting with Rattles to figure out a plan. Then all of you are boarding my ship, or else you’re gonna find yourselves lovers with the hempen halter. Savvy?”
“Aye aye, Captain!”
And the mates scurried off while you made your way to the old tavern where Rattles always seemed to be. It was time to figure out what you were gonna do with the ole hearties. It was annoying to you though. They were willing to die by a giant octopus and not a pretty girl. Typical pirates looking down on women.
Later that night you found yourself seated next to Rattles with a notebook to take notes on anything he had to say.
“I remember encountering them for the first time. We heard a beloved voice and heard it coming from a distance. We saw a mermaid. She turned on her back and swam while her mouth opened. The song came from her. We were all entranced. We followed through a fog until her song became a screech. Her face contorted, and her teeth became sharp fangs. The fog dissipated. Then there was a colony of them. They looked so peaceful in the water, until they all did the same thing. They began to attack. It didn’t help that the ship was smaller. I barely escaped. Only me and two others got out. Everyone else was ripped apart in front of us or dragged into the water where the carnage was hidden. We aren’t sure if there were survivors. We aren’t sure if sirens and mermaids are different or if one makes the other. There are so many things we don’t know, but no one should trust a half fish, half human. It’s not safe. We need someone to figure it out. We need you to figure it out.”
“I know. I want to. My crew is scared.”
“Come on, Captain. Let’s figure this out.”
“Aye aye, Captain.”
That night over drinks the both of you came up with a plan. You and the crew needed to wear cloth in your ears to prevent the sound of songs from working. You needed to stack on weapons, ready to attack back. You all needed to pretend that the song was working. The plan was to sail east off the island. That’s where they accidentally found the cove they named “Libido’s Lounge.” It was noted that there weren’t just women, there were men as well. Even those who didn’t fancy men still fell under the spell, and vice versa.
A few weeks passed by while you gathered the supplies you all needed for the voyage. It was dangerous, and those who began to board knew that. Even you, the bravest of adventurers, were slightly trembling as you boarded last. You weren’t sure why you were so nervous, but you had a gut feeling this was not going to end well. You wanted to cancel it because you’ve never had a gut feeling like this before, but it was too late. You had to go through with it.
“Anchors aweigh! Better get your sea legs in quick because we’re in for a ride!”
“Aye aye, Captain!”
The escapade took a few weeks. The bad feeling in your stomach grew worse. Some days you could barely walk, the anxiety crumbling you. Your head had shooting pains that grew worse the closer The Corruption got to Libido’s Lounge. The crew noticed, but they refused to say anything. It's never good to doubt the captain, especially when they’re in this position of danger with no one else to lead them out.
Dark grew over the horizon as the sun hid itself. The ship continued to sail onwards until a crew member looked over the deck and saw a beautiful face emerge from the water. She smiled at him, and he smiled at her fondly. The way her face was beautifully carved made him feel butterflies, and it wasn’t just the fact that he’d been living off of rum for a while. A crew member next to him noticed his gaze followed towards the girl. He quickly ran towards you to alert you that you’d reached the cove.
“Alert the crew to get the cloth in their ears, now. Get Barbins over there out of that trance or he’s gonna be feeding the fishes.”
“Aye aye, Captain.”
Without a second to lose he began to round up the crew one by one to let them know the plan needed to go into full effect now. They plugged their ears with cloth.
“Hey, Barbins.” The man whispered.
Irritated, he turned to face him.
“What is it?”
“Cloth, now. Captain said so. Or you’re gonna be dinner for them.”
“Gyah, whatever!”
He stuffed his ears quickly before facing the pretty girl again. She smiled, and he smiled back. You noticed this. She began to swim away, and you quickly alerted the crew to follow her. You grabbed a hold of the wheel and spun it to change direction. Through the mist you blindly followed the girl.
“Oi! Be ready for anything. The second her face turns ugly, start attacking!”
The mist cleared and water grew shallower. There was a clearing filled with the most beautiful faces ever seen. You glared at them as they opened their mouths and began to sing. Through the cloth, all of you could hear the song, but you were hoping it stopped the hypnotic way it enchanted the ears. They all stared at the ship while they harmonized their song. But you couldn’t see any men. Your father had told you there would be men, but there were none here. They were all beautiful girls, you could admit to that. You saw the attraction, and you understood the danger of their beauty.
You looked to see Barbins jumping off the ship. You were stunned. What was he doing?
“Man overboard! Start the attack, now!”
WIth a yell the men began to shoot at the water, and the creatures became angry. Soon they lunged at the ship, managing to grab hold of the crew and dragging them down to the depths. There were way more of them than you had crew, and you knew there’d be more to come.
Honestly, you lost your depth. Your stomach grew more knots as you watched the bloodshed. There was going to be no survivors by the look of it. Your head felt full and heavy. Your vision became blurry. Your legs felt weak. The epitome of this dreadful feeling somehow worsened when you got to the clearing, and it hurts even more now, like the source of it is getting closer.
You began to back away from the wheel when you felt yourself hit the back of someone’s chest. You wanted to turn around, but you couldn’t move. Two arms arose to your ears on both sides of your head and pulled the cloth out of them. Then one arm wrapped around your throat and put you in a chokehold while lips quietly sung in your ear.
“Dead men tell no tales.
Ugly men raid our seas
So we tear their sails
And hear their begging pleas.”
A mate saw you in danger, so he began to run towards you. The figure who grasped you hissed at him while his eyes shriveled, veins protruded, and fangs threatened. The mate didn’t back down, so the stranger put you down and lunged at him. He quickly sank his fangs into his shoulder and tore a bite right through him. The mate cried before he was pushed overboard.
You tried to flee in the distraction, but you weren’t fast enough. Furious at your attempt to escape he continued to sing as he stalked towards you.
“Dead men tell no tales,
But you my sweet
Are beautiful as my scales
You’ll stick around as my treat.”
He grabbed you by your arm and pulled you toward the ship’s main deck. You were confused by the man’s ability to walk if he seemed to be the same creature as the ones in the water. Your head hurt too much to fully wrap the idea in your brain. Another mate tried to go for the enemy, but he was knocked to the ground.
“W-what is g-g-going on?” You tried to speak, but you only stuttered the words.
“My name is Hyunjin, and you attacked my kind. That does not go without punishment.”
He pushed you overboard into the water before diving in right behind you. You swam to the surface as best as you could until you were pulled underwater by Hyunjin. His legs were gone, and they were replaced with an abstract tail. It was a warm brown color with hints of crimson red and golden yellow. Though he was a being that belonged to the sea, his tale resembled fire with its colors and extension fins like that of a betta fish. The colors felt inviting.
He placed a kiss on your lips which then gave you the ability to breathe without worry. You tried to fight against him, but once he began to sing with his beautiful voice you were lost again. You stared blankly at him as he took your hand and swam away with you, leaving the war to finish itself without guidance.
Hyunjin swam towards a vacant grotto where he laid your body on a rocky surface. The grotto was his secret hideaway. The only life around it were the fishes and the plants that danced in the water. Hyunjin kept his tail in the water while he laid his arms on the rock staring at your unconscious body. He couldn’t help himself. There was something about you that captivated his attention. Your breathing was calm, you felt lost. You couldn’t think proper thoughts, and you were lost in a void where there was everything and nothing at the same time.
He wasn’t sure what it was. There was something about the way you lead your ship through the mist, thinking you were being strategic, but he stalked behind the ship the entire time. He grabbed onto the side of the ship, beginning to climb his way onto it and watching the scenes unfold. He noticed you were teetering while you ordered your crew around. He could tell you weren’t entirely there. There was a feeling in his stomach that made him want to help. He felt compelled to aid you. He wasn’t sure if it was your bravery for willingly going where every man fears or if it was because you were the most beautiful face he had ever seen. Even though he was and lived amongst a species that matched the beauty of gods on earth, no one looked as beautiful as you.
He was supposed to be the one who lured people into his trap. That was what being a siren was about. He wouldn’t sing so beautifully if it wasn’t for that. Even before he was trapped in this cursed body, women would swoon over his artwork. Every woman would look at him lustfully, some of them were quite attractive, but no one was ever able to catch his eye. So, why are you, some pirate trying to kill off his kind, making him feel ways he has never felt before? That wasn’t fair. That defeated the point of all of this!
He found himself caressing your head softly, staring at the way the water soaked clothes clung to your body accentuating every nook and cranny of it. His body tingled in ways it hadn’t in awhile. Excitement filled his face while he watched you breathe steadily. There was something about the way you were under his spell, under his control, that turned his brain to goo. His mouth began to water, his face felt hot, and his head started to ache at the uncontrollable feeling of wanting to touch you and make you scream his name, but instead of begging for mercy to live you’re begging to have him touch you more and more. The thought alone made him groan.
You began to wake up from your hypnotic state, stirring slightly, eyes blurry, blinking back to reality only to be met with the high ceilings of a cave and an uncomfortable pain in your back from lying on dirt. Human nature made you want to bolt upright and run, but your pirate nature wanted you to remain calm, find a plan, and escape danger without causing a disaster. You laid there, eyes open, trying to avoid the small sounds of splashing water and the glaring gaze of your captor’s eyes digging into the side of your head attempting to read your thoughts.
“I know you’re awake, Captain.” He taunts you with your title. “For the Captain of a ship, you’re certainly pretty inferior and weak right now.”
You grunt at his comment, starting to haul yourself up to find a way out of this mess. As you stand, you’re immediately stopped when a blissful tone reaches your ears, and once again, you don’t have control over your own body. You can feel it. You can feel yourself wanting to resist but being unable. Hyunjin speaks.
“Ah ah ah, darling. Lay back down. We are not finished here. I told you that you’d be punished.”
His words made chills sprint across your spine. Your cold, goosebumped covered body felt warm from nothing, and you felt yourself melt back to the ground. You turned your head towards his, and he lifted himself out of the water and hovered over you when his tail became two long, clothed legs. He looked at you too, and you daringly stared into his eyes. Within them you saw lust and desire, nothing more and nothing less. Well, there was something more, but you couldn’t decipher it.
Hyunjin bent down and crouched next to you, cupping your cheek and gently caressing his thumb over reddening skin. He stared into your eyes, reading them, finding your scrambled thoughts.
“You need to be good and listen to me. I can’t keep making you listen to me by using my voice, but if you make me, then I will. Am I understood, Captain? Nod your head if you understand, pretty girl.”
You nodded your head. You did understand, but the nodding of your head was not on your own free will. His touch made you burn more. There was something about his over looming presence that made you feel small. One thing you always hated was the belittling you dealt with when it came to being a woman in a pirate’s life. Always trying to act above you when you know damn well it’s for their own ego. However, Hyunjin was alluring to you, equally as much as you were to him. There was something about his confidence and dominance that made you horny instead of angry. Maybe it was because it wasn’t his ego talking, it was just who he was. He knew he was in control here, and that’s why he didn’t feel nervous around you. The other men who made comments towards you always ended up being the weakest. Not Hyunjin though, nothing about him seemed submissive.
The horrible feeling in your stomach never subsided. It grew even more in the position you laid in, and you started to wonder if the wetness in your panties is more than the wetted undergarments from being dragged through the sea like a monster’s prey. Maybe the horrible feeling in your stomach was just your gut feeling telling you to get dicked, and there was something about the nearing presence that made the feeling grow.
Sirens, you think to yourself, are lust filled devils that overwhelm one’s desires when they approach them. Their songs do not force falsified love into someone, but overpowers their primal desires more than they can bear, weakening them, and taking them as food. But why do they want to hurt us, and the sighted mermaids want to help us?
Hyunjin sang another tune, but it made the hypnotic effect wear off, almost like an anecdote. You didn’t move, too afraid for your body to not be your own anymore.
“Tell me, Captain, do you want me?” He asked boldly.
You looked him deep in his eyes. You wanted to deny it, you really did, but just as they claimed, he was as beautiful as they came, more than likely the most perfect one, even beating the gods’ beauty. You wanted him in many ways, and he wanted you all the same. Like the bold pirate you were, you spoke up.
“Yes, I do. Do you want me?”
“Yes, surprisingly I do.” He wasn’t lying. You knew it, you could read lies, and even if it was in his powers to be able to lie without getting caught, this seemed too desiring to him. His breathing was barely steady at the start. He was struggling to hold back.
He moved to plant himself between your legs and then moved his hand to your neck and applied pressure to the sides of it carefully, taking away some air, but not a lot. You gasped, trying to take back all the air he cut off but failed.
“It actually pisses me off how much I want you. Do you know what I’m supposed to do with invasive pests like you?” He leans in closer.
“I’m supposed to rip you apart, limb from limb, and drag you down in the deep to eat you…”
He comes closer, grip tightening, his mouth right to yours, hovering above it just barely.
“But something in me, something about you, makes me want to rip you apart for my own sake, and I want to hear you cry my name while I do.”
He releases your neck and puts his lips to yours. As he makes contact, you kiss back. He isn’t sweet with it, you aren’t either. His kiss is rough, teeth hooking onto your bottom lip and tongue prodding its way into your mouth while he uses one hand to hold himself up and the other to roughly massage your breast while he rolls his hips between your legs to give your clit the smallest bit of tension. He rolls over with a rhythm, enough to make you let out small, pleading whimpers. He smiled, hearing you fall apart on nothing when he’s just begun.
He moves, and he begins to peel off the damp clothes from your body. You want to shiver, you want to be cold when your entire naked body is exposed to the elements, but it only burns. You can barely think, and it’s no longer the lack of air’s fault or Hyunjin’s songs. It’s just how horny you are for this angelically handsome devil. He takes off the rags that hide him as well. The sight of his slightly toned chest and thin stomach fills you with more desire than before. Then he removes his pants, and that makes your pussy throb the most.
He leans back down to you, except he faces your core, and leans in for a meal. The spit from his tongue meeting your untouched folds makes you shudder, and you grab his hair and pull him closer on instinct. His tongue licks in and out of your vagina and messily makes his way to your clit where he sucks on it and nips on it slightly. Your sensitivity is so intense that you feel yourself leak a bit more over his face. He continues his assault on your clit while his hand makes his way to tease around your hole before entering one finger, and a few thrusts later adding a second.
“Hyunjin, fuck-” You moan while he continues his actions. He takes his mouth off of your clit for a moment to say, “Good girl.” You gush at the nickname and turn your head to the side to hide from how excitedly the praise made you feel.
The knot in your stomach was ready to be untied. Your quiet whimpers and moans got louder and increased, which signaled him to pick up the pace a little faster.
“Whenever you’re ready. Just sail with the wind, Captain.”
As soon as he said that, you released onto him and rode out your high as he calmed his movements before pulling away. Your eyes felt heavy, your body felt relaxed, but you didn’t want to stop there. Hyunjin didn’t either. You fell limply onto your back when Hyunjin moved himself from you.
“Hey, there, pirate, we aren’t done with this voyage of ours yet.”
Looking down at you, he bent down and picked you up by your hips, moving you to sit in front of a rock on your knees. The rock was at your eye level. Hyunjin sat on top of the rock. He slightly flinched at the coolness of the rock against his ass, but he warmed up to it quickly. He spread his legs, leaving his dick out, and the perfect space for you to crawl in and suck him off. You stared at his long, hard dick while it waited for attention.
“Hey, princess,” Hyunjin snapped his fingers in front of your face. “Get to it.”
You crawled to him on your knees, head bowing down in embarrassment, but Hyunjin grabbed the roots of your head and pulled you close to his dick. “Open.” And you did. You opened your mouth wide and took him in while he kept his hold on your roots for physical control. You bobbed your head up and down, moving your hand up to grab what you couldn’t reach, but Hyunjin stopped you.
“You’re a Captain, aren’t you? Using your mouth to bark orders all day? Not to mention how much you unhinged your jaw to take me. If your pretty mouth can do those things, then you can suck my whole cock without taking a shortcut with your hands.” He pushed your head all the way on his cock, making you gag, but he ignored it. He kept this up, barely letting you breathe. All he did was assault your throat with each thrust making him groan at your warm, wet walls that felt like heaven’s touch. You could feel your throat become sore, but you honestly didn’t want to stop him. There was something about the way he sounded and his control over you that made you want to please him forever.
Not long later, his groaning increased and became louder. He was going to cum soon, and you could tell when he pushed your head into cock faster.
“Fuck!” He moaned when he felt cum spurt from his tip. He calmed his pushing, but he made you keep your mouth around his cock until he was fully finished, then he withdrew himself and forced you to swallow all of it.
Drool was falling down your chin, your jaw and throat hurt, your scalp was slightly burning, but your eyes were glazed over, wanting even more of him. You felt like you were floating, the pain in your body making your pussy wetter. Even though you felt like Hyunjin was controlling your body with the way he used you like a toy, a new melody filled in your ears making the ache in your body reside. Each tune he sang seemed to do a different thing, but each of them were helpful in the situation you found yourself in. This tune didn’t put you in his control, but it rather settled you to be comfortable for what he was going to do next.
Hyunjin stood up and looked down at you while you remained on your knees. He brought his hand underneath your chin and forced you to look into his eyes.
“Tell me your name.” He spoke. His tone was stern. It wasn’t like the way he spoke before, this was a hard command. You weren’t sure why he was so stern about your name and not the intense oral sex you performed on him moments ago.
“It’s Syrena.” You lie.
Hyunjin grips your chin tighter and glares daggers at you.
“You’re lying. Tell me your name.”
“Ariel.”
Hyunjin pushed your head to the side harshly before bending down and grabbing you by the base of your neck and forcing you to look at him again. This time he’s much closer. He’s more intimidating this way, and you feel your stomach jump.
“Lie to me again, and see what happens. Tell me your name or I will leave you here to die.”
“My name is Y/N. Captain Y/N.”
“Now was that so hard, Y/N?” You glared at him, tempted to rip out of his grasp and kill him on the spot, but you didn't. You stayed put because your sinful temptations were getting the best of you.
“Captain, Y/N.” You corrected him. Even though he’s been calling you pet names since you got there, now you were starting to grow tired of his taunting and teasing. You let him have his fun, but now you wanted your respect back. However, you were basically willing to do anything for him to fuck you at this point, but you didn’t want to admit that.
“No, no, no,” He paused, lifting you by your hips again and sitting himself back on the rock. “You are no captain to me.” He sat you slightly on his lap, grabbing his dick and teasing your clit. Your arms were wrapped around his neck to keep you up. The feeling made you whine loudly. He smirked, slowly pushing his head into your soaked cunt until his long length was fully inside you. Your head fell back, and your mouth opened without control as you let out of the loudest moan you could muster. He used his hand to bring you back to face him and look into his piercing gaze again. Your mouth stayed open, moaning with each small thrust he gave as he pushed himself into you, but keeping most of his dick inside you.
“You are just a pathetic, cock-hungry, submissive, girl.” He said between his small thrusts.
“H-h-hyunjin, please.” You plead. He gives an evil smile and lets go of your neck making it fall back again. He stood up, holding onto you, bringing you off of his cock almost entirely before harshly thrusting himself back inside. You couldn’t control your reaction, even if you tried. You screamed in pleasure, the noises echoing off the grotto’s walls. He continued to plow into you, but it was enough to ensure it was pleasurable for the both of you and not just his own selfishness.
“Hyunjin! I can’t- Fuck!” You moaned.
“Yes, you can. Fucking take it.” He growled, fucking into you harder.
“Ah- I can’t, please!” The pleasure was insane, impossible to describe. Then, again, there was another new melody that rang through your brain, and you felt like you were floating. You were able to take whatever he gave you without worry, but the pleasure somehow doubled. Your eyes were oceans with the way the tears spilled from them each moment he didn’t stop. But everything was bliss. Everything was perfect. You felt more relaxed and calm than you ever had before.
Hyunjin switched the positions you were in, lying your stomach against the rock, and your ass in the hair where he entered you from behind and held onto you by your head fucking into you even deeper.
“My little pirate taking the cock of her enemy.” You wanted to correct him, tell him that your intention was to learn about them, not to hurt them, but that thought left your mind as soon as you had it. You couldn’t think. You were almost brain dead, only being able to feel everything he was giving you and more.
“I’m gonna cum soon!” You managed to choke out.
“Fuck, baby, me too.” He groaned back.
“Ah, Hyunjin, please, I can’t hold it.”
“Just a little bit. I’ll tell you when you can cum.” His stern voice was back, there was no choice whether you did or didn’t on your own terms.
He moved out of you for a brief moment and turned you around to face him. Quickly and carefully he picked you up and thrusted his cock into you. You shoved your face into his neck, kissing and sucking and biting him to bare the orgasm building inside you.
“Can I please-”
“Yes.”
As soon as you released, Hyunjin did too, fucking his cum into you while you moaned. He found your lips and kissed you while slowly walking towards the moonpool of water and allowed himself to fall in with you while you kissed him lustfully and passionately, and he did the same.
In the water, you were lost, eyes open, but not having control. Hyunjin’s presence was not absent from you, but you still felt sexual pleasure. You weren’t sure how.
Hyunjin was in front of you, facing you, and smirking. You looked at him, confused as to how you weren’t sinking without him holding you and without swimming. Then you realized you couldn’t feel your legs. You looked down, and your legs were replaced with a shining mermaid’s tale and extensions of a betta fish, just like Hyunjin’s, right in front of you. You noticed one betta fin of yours and his were connected. That was where the pleasure was located.
You wanted to scream and cry. Hyunjin could tell, so he came closer to you. He held your face in his hands again, stroked your cheeks gently, and leaned in to kiss you. You happily kissed back. Within the midst of your kiss, your tails intertwined with the other, and you felt like you were floating again, but this time it wasn’t Hyunjin’s range of melodies, it was a tone that felt like love. You felt whole and safe. You didn’t freak out about the mermaid tale that now lined your body.
Hyunjin moved away from your lips, grabbed your hand, and swam you towards the surface of the water. After breaking the surface, you began to speak, but he stopped you. “Don’t freak out. You will be fine.”
The second his tail was entirely out of the water, he had legs again, and he helped you out of the water where the same thing happened to you. Hyunjin grabbed you again, and held you into his lap bridal style while leaning against a rock. He looked at you, and you looked at him.
“Humans can’t have sex with mermaids or sirens without turning into one of us. It was a curse put on both humans and merfolk such as ourselves years ago when a human and a mermaid fell in love. However, a jealous sea witch grew envious of their relationship, and put a curse on mermaids that they’d become lust filled demons that killed humans that came near, and anytime a human had sex with one, their curse was to become them too.”
You looked at him dumbfounded.
“What the fuck?” is the only thing you can muster.
Hyunjin laughed and explained more in depth.
“I wasn’t always like this. I was a human too. In fact I was a painter whom all the ladies fell in love over. I adored it. I adored their attention. One day, while I painted by the seaside, I heard a beautiful noise come from the water. I discovered a boy peeking out of the water. He extended his arm to me, I gave him my hand, and he pulled me in. Then, things escalated, and now I’m like this.”
“But I still don’t understand the mermaids and sirens thing. And why’d you have to do this to me? What the hell.” You felt a lot of emotions, but you weren’t as mad at being a siren than you thought you’d be. Depending on the conditions, being part fish could help yourself as a pirate captain.
“I barely understand myself, but I’ll try to explain more. It used to only be mermaids. That was it. Mermaids are beautiful creatures that swim in the sea and have beautiful voices that can do all sorts of things like lure people in and make them feel better. However, mermaids were never inherently evil. Their songs were meant to lure people in for good things, like steering life away from dangerous areas. However, the sea witch’s jealousy got the best of her. She wanted to be the one the human fell in love with, but instead it was someone else. Blinded by rage, she cursed any mermaid who dared fall into the lust trap. Oftentimes mermaids are used to resemble purity because of this, and they distract themselves from carelessly falling into anything that can change that. The sirens curse, it wasn’t just motivated sex, it was killing anyone who tried because the lust was so strong. When the mermaid was first turned into this monster, she kissed his neck, but began to rip it apart. The sexual desires began to settle after the fact, like killing someone brought down the hunger. No one has been able to find an alternative. As for me turning you… I couldn’t help myself. Ever since I saw you there was something about you I needed. It ached, in ways I couldn’t explain, and I knew you felt it too.”
You stared blankly at him in disbelief. Then you spoke up.
“We weren’t coming to hurt you. My pirate ship is more of a learning experience. We discover things in the sea and tell others about it. We don’t harm anything, we just teach ourselves. Granted we know how to defend ourselves in an attack, but we came to study the mermaids, and we ended up in a killing trap. Now all of my men are dead.” Your voice turned cold by the end, just remembering the bloodshed of the battle you were ripped from for no reason.
“But you began to attack, don’t deny that.”
“It was self defense. We knew you were going to do something.”
“I don’t doubt that. Even though I haven’t always been a siren, I can’t sit back and watch my newkind get slaughtered. I will defend them, and now you will too. You’ll learn to.”
“Hyunjin, I didn’t want any of this.”
“But you were so beautiful, I had to have you. You’re mine; you belong to me. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be so off balance when I’m around, just like a bit ago when you lost everything the second I was completely near you. I hadn’t even started singing.”
He was right. You knew it too. He was the reason you felt off. He was the reason you were off balance and off guard and off everything. Now he’s the reason you’re part fish.
“You can go back to being a pirate captain, if you so please, but I am so deeply infatuated with you, I couldn’t bear you to go. I don’t ever want you to leave me, Y/N.”
It was the way he stared deeply into your eyes that made you melt. There was no convincing melody of his to convince you to stay, though you must’ve had that too now if you were one of them. But his eyes, his pleading, and the slight fear you had of him kept you put on his lap.
“Come, my treasure, explore the ocean with me.” He said, standing you up, and bringing you to the water, jumping in with you, grabbing your hand, and swimming off.
Your tail made you swim as a pace that was hard to comprehend. You were out of the grotto and near the island you sailed off of in minutes rather than the days of voyage you spent. Hyunjin showed you all about the water, pointing out friends and foe, things to eat, ways to improve your life as a merfolk.
Down in the water, the two of you faced the other where your betta fins touched, bringing you closer into a kiss. The two of you chased each other around, creating tiny waves in the water as you playfully messed around.
Resurfacing from the water and staring at Hyunjin, he sang,
“My heart is pierced by Cupid.
I disdain all glittering gold.
There is nothing can console me,
But my jolly sailor bold.”
You smiled, happy to hear this song that he sang often. He sang it about you.
But little did you know, that song is the only reason you stayed with him.
Hyunjin found you perfect, so beautiful that he couldn’t let you go. He knew you would've left the second you had the chance, but he can’t let someone he’s besotted by go, so he’ll do what he can to keep you around a little longer. I mean, he did tell you that bullshit story about sirens and mermaids. Had he been turned into a siren by a boy with a freckled covered face? Yes. Was that witchy nonsense true? Of course not. But if you believed him, who cared? He turned you into a siren on his own, so he could keep you around forever. He was going to have you no matter what.
You are his treasure, not any of the pirates, his.
#stray kids#skz#fanfic#stray kids fanfic#stray kids smut#yandere#hyunjin#hwang hyunjin#hyunjin smut#siren#hwang hyunjin smut#hyunjin x reader#skz smut#stray kids hyunjin smut#stray kids scenarios#stray kids imagines#skz hyunjin smut#hyunjin imagines#hwang hyunjin scenarios#hyunjin scenarios#kpop scenarios#kpop smut
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Crush | Charles Leclerc x Reader | Part 3
Genre: Fluff
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Summary: You're in love with your best friend, Charles Leclerc…
A/N: Unrequited love sucks. It inspired me to write this though. Here's the final part. What started off as a one shot has become a three part mini series, hope y'all enjoy it.
The final part!! Thank you for all the love you've poured.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Masterlist
You wake up to the sound of utensils clanking and sweet fragrance wafting through the air.
There are butterflies in your stomach.
Is Charles up? Is he cooking?
When you go out you see your mom working in the kitchen.
“Hi love,” she waves at you after wiping her hands on the apron.
Your heart sinks in disappointment.
“Hi Mom,” you reply halfheartedly, sitting on the dining table.
“What happened?”
“Nothing. Just tired.”
You refrain from telling her about your interaction with Charles. You check your phone to see if he has left a message.
And he has.
We need to talk.
Of course you need to talk, but not how it happened yesterday.
Charles is never vulnerable. It caught you by surprise. You've only seen him this sad and intoxicated when his father passed away and after his breakup with Charlotte.
You scared me yesterday. You respond back.
I'm sorry. I'll come over at 5 pm. His reply is instantaneous.
Okay. See you.
“Why are you smiling like that?” Your mom places a pancake in front of you.
“Nothing.”
“It's Charles, isn't it?”
You roll your eyes.
“Not everything is about love, Mom.”
She gets one plate for herself along with maple syrup.
You look at the array of disorganised and unmatched utensils. You see your mom sitting right next to you, relishing her pancake.
You're going to miss this place so much.
She gives you a very suggestive stare and you finally give in.
“Okay, it's Charles, but can we please talk about something else?”
“All I see is Charles, all I see is Charles Leclerc,” your mom sings and you blush, embarrassed.
“Stop it, Mom.”
“Okay,” she says, but she's smiling. “I couldn't find so many things in your kitchen, Y/N. Why don't you have dinner at our place?”
Knowing your mom, you have a gut feeling that she is up to something.
“Okay,” you respond, taking a bite of your delicious homemade pancake.
“Good,” she says.
You both finish your breakfast.
“I'll do the dishes Mom. Don't worry.”
“I'll see you at dinner, love.” She kisses your cheek. “Please dress nice."
You chuckle.
“I'm going to come in my pyjamas.”
Your mom sighs. You love annoying your mom like this. You'll miss this banter. This pure energy of love.
You're planning to sell your apartment. You've sorted your possessions- a lot of them are going to Goodwill. Your mom will keep the rest of the stuff because you're moving back in with your family.
Affordability is obviously not an issue. But you feel like this job would open a portal of new opportunities. And there is a slight possibility that you will end up staying at Milan.
You're going to miss your little world.
The rest of the day flies by as you do your chores and a bit of packing. It's almost 5.
You get dressed, mentally preparing yourself for a conversation with Charles. You plan everything out in your head, trying to memorise your responses and how to tackle this awkwardness.
The doorbell rings and this time you open the door to see Charles with a smile, unlike yesterday, when he was drunk and vulnerable and also angry.
He's wearing a light blue shirt with white pants, looking gorgeous as always. You get a little conscious because of your pyjamas.
“Come in. Have a seat.” He follows your instructions and you sit beside him.
“So…” Charles puts his hand in its pockets, feeling a little awkward.
You decide not to beat around the bush.
“Can we talk about the kiss?”
“Yes. I was about to bring that up.” He pauses, searching for the right words. “Y/N, I know we've been best friends for ages and I don't want to ruin that at all…”
“I like you, Charles. I always have and maybe I always will.” You decide to be upfront and honest.
This takes him by surprise. He's speechless.
“You do realise what you did was super impulsive and wrong.”
“I'm sorry.”
“You don't have to be.” He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, staring deeply into your eyes.
“I like you too. I always have.”
Wait. What?
Your heart skips a beat. It feels like it will come out of your chest. Charles’ confession excites you as well as relieves you.
“I've been running away from my feelings but I won't anymore.” He inches in closer and gives you a kiss.
You can't believe what is happening. It feels like a fairytale come true. You've always loved Charles, but you never expected him to feel the same way.
You spend the rest of the time together- talking, laughing over the silliest jokes.
“When did you realise that you liked me?” Charles asks you, sitting next to you inside your bedroom as you both watch Netflix.
You've decided to watch a movie. It's a classic rom com- When Harry Met Sally- which is ironic considering that the storyline of your life runs parallel to it.
“Senior year, prom. When you asked our Catherine for your date. I was jealous.”
He chuckles.
“But you were the one who set me up with her.”
You sigh. “I was trying to be a good wingwoman.”
“Don't ever sacrifice your happiness for someone else, Y/N.”
“I won't, I promise.”
"What about you?"
"What about me?" He asks, confused.
"When did you realise that you liked me?"
Charles sighs. "When you kissed me."
A blush spreads on your cheeks.
"Right."
You're glad that the kiss stirred his feelings. And you're excited for what is to come ahead. You both will make this work, no matter what.
As the movie ends, it's 7.
“I have to get ready for dinner at home.” You say, getting up.
“Don't go…” Charles pulls you back and starts tickling you.
“Stop it,” you laugh, hitting him softly.
He tickles you even further. You run away as he loosens his grip.
You've always loved spending time with Charles but this time it feels different. This time, it involves feelings.
“Charles! I have to get ready.”
He laughs. “Don't worry, I'll drop you.”
You get ready, deciding to wear a dress that compliments Charles’ shirt.
“Wow, Y/N. You look stunning.”
“Thank you.”
You leave for your parents' home around 8. The drive is quiet, almost serene. As you enter the premises, you see a lot of cars parked in.
“Wait-”
As Charles parks the car, he puts a finger on your lips.
“Wha-”
“Shh.” You both get out of the car.
“Close your eyes.”
“But why-”
“Trust me.”
You close your eyes and Charles gently guides you to the front door. He opens the door and as you enter, you can hear whispers.
“Surprise!”
You get scared as you open your eyes. You see everyone you love gathered in the living room.
Tears cloud your eyes. The room is decorated with your pictures and balloons.
It's a farewell party.
You start crying.
Charles hugs you, gently stroking your back. You're too emotional to respond.
“Thank you everyone.”
“It was Charles’s idea,” your mom chips in.
You look at him with the biggest smile on your face.
You're lucky to have someone like him by your side. Someone who respects you, loves you. Your heart is happy and full.
“Thank you, Charles.”
“Always.”
Taglist - @janeholt3 @rhythmstars @missenclod @phantomxoxo
#f1#formula 1#charles leclerc#cl16 leclercings#leclercings#cl16 x you#cl16#cl16 one shot#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#f1 one shot#f1 fic#f1 imagine#charles leclerc x y/n#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x reader#f1 x reader#fic#love#f1blr#SoundCloud
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deep end (explicit)
genre: pwp / domestic-ass smut hehe 💕
pairing: namjoon x reader (ft. no gendered language! bc lots of people get periods!)
summary: your boyfriend suggests a new way to relieve your period cramps.
word count: 4.2k
contains: explicit sexual content ~*~*~ established relationship, boyfie joon in a hoodie/glasses/with stubble (yes that's a warning), they use the term 'baby' a lot because it's me writing joon duh, some minor implications that menstruation is gross (from reader) (buuuut they get over it lol), 🩸period sex🩸, nipple play, fingering and clit stim, joon has a monster cock bc of course he does, size kink, bulge kink, he's all up in their cervix, reader has a.... cervical orgasm which might just be an a-spot orgasm my googling was inconclusive whatever none of you care - a good mix of fluff and playful bickering, the ending is soft 🫠
A/N: JOON HOES I HAVE RETURNED FOR YOU 🫡 it's been too long, so please take one of my favorite things i've ever written as my very sincere apology. idk this really just flowed out (no pun intended ksdjhgdfsdf) and i had a lot of fun with it, i heart bodies doing body things yknow. shout-out to my period for being extra bad last month and inspiring this.... it's called MANIFESTING amiright besties 💅✨ i hope y'all enjoy!!!! would love to hear your thoughts if you did 🥺💜
and all the love in the world to @haliiimede for betaing and being my emotional support capricorn, where would i be without you my love
read on AO3 !
~*~
The hinges of the bedroom door creak softly as it’s pushed open, and you glance up.
You’re where you’ve been for as long as social responsibilities will allow you to hide from the world and futilely attempt an afternoon nap: curled up on your side, knees pressed tight to your chest, gritting your teeth through each fresh round of stabbing pain. It’s worse than usual this month, for no discernible reason, which is stupid.
Namjoon leans against the doorframe, domestic-cozy-cute in the way that usually makes you want to jump him, glasses and a hoodie. He can’t help but smile sympathetically when he notices your arms are wrapped around an emotional support Koya plushie.
“You okay?”
You wince. “Cramps. I’ll be fine.”
There’s a flutter of mattress springs and bed sheets as he sits down at your side. “Is today the worst of it?” You nod. “Did you take your stuff?”
You smush your cheek against the top of Koya’s head, nuzzling into the soft fabric, tactile comfort. “Yes.”
“Extra-strength?”
“Yes, Joon,” you snap. “I’ve been having periods since I was twelve, I know what I’m doing.”
“Okay, baby.”
You feel guilty as soon as the exasperation-tinged words leave your mouth. “Sorry. I’m being an ass. Just… fucking hurts.”
He tries again. “Heating pad?”
“Worked for a bit, but I got too hot.” Your feet kick frustratedly under the blankets. “I’m ready for winter.”
Namjoon laughs at this. “Does that mean too hot for some company?”
The corners of your pouted mouth just barely start to pull up as you pretend to think it over. “…No.”
“Okay then.” He pushes back the sheets to slide in next to you, removing his glasses and reaching over to deposit them on the nightstand. He smells good, clean laundry and woody cologne. You don’t fight him when he moves to gently pry Koya out of your hands.
“Get out of here,” he murmurs, and you laugh in surprise when he unceremoniously flings the plushie across the room.
“Hey!”
“We don’t need him,” Namjoon says with a smug smile as he adjusts the blankets so he can settle in behind you.
Just the presence of him pressing into your back, big and solid and familiar, makes you start to unwind. His hand slips under your oversized t-shirt to rest on your low belly, fingertips dipping beneath the band of your underwear to gently trace over your skin. The warmth is nice— you feel yourself melt a little under his touch.
“You know what’s good for cramps?” He asks softly. You hum a response, prompting him to continue, and he does. “Orgasms.”
With a sigh, you turn your head to press your face into the pillow. “Vibrator’s dead.”
“Do you want me to plug it in?”
You make a sound that isn’t a clear yes or no, debating internally, then finally answer. “Don’t leave.”
He doesn’t. “What can I do then?”
The answer is immediate, paired with a dry laugh. “You can put me out of my misery.”
Namjoon shakes his head, tuts a little. “Can’t do that. But maybe I can help another way.”
The hand on your stomach slowly starts to slide further up, over your waist and rib cage, coming to cup one of your breasts. He gives it a tentative squeeze. “Sore?”
You shrug. “A little.”
“I’ll be gentle.”
His thumb starts to move, tracing slow, lazy circles over your nipple, coaxing the soft bud to a peak.
You let your eyes flutter closed and allow this sensation to overtake the others, enough to pull an appreciative noise out of you. “Nnh— feels good.” Your voice comes out nearly a whisper.
“Good.”
He wiggles his hips a little in response, and you can’t help but laugh when you feel something firm press against your ass. “How are you hard right now?”
“I don’t understand the question.”
You roll your eyes, but you’re still smiling, and you shift to turn onto your back so you can see him properly. It doesn’t hurt that it also gives him a better angle to play with both of your breasts— a second hand quickly finds its way up your shirt. “Everything turns you on.”
Namjoon shrugs, unbothered. “With you, yeah.”
“But…” You shift your legs vaguely under the sheets, knowing he’ll understand what you mean. “It’s gross.”
“How?”
The feeling of his fingers gently flicking over both of your nipples simultaneously makes your brain lag. “Uh— dirty.”
“Not true.”
Your eyes flutter shut again as you try to keep up with the conversation despite the heat of arousal that’s starting to swell in your gut, and lower. “Okay, messy.”
“All sex is messy,” Namjoon says, like it’s a given.
You huff a noise of frustration, glancing over at him. “Stop being obtuse. It’s different.”
“I’m not,” he insists. “It just sounds like you have some unnecessary shame. It’s a natural thing.”
“Natural,” you deadpan back. “You’re a hippie.”
He smiles. “Maybe.”
The admission is paired with a light pinch to your nipples, and you inhale sharply, biting back a whimper. “A freak.”
His laugh is soft and deep. “Sure. Have you fucked on your period before? I know we haven’t, but— ever?” You shake your head into the pillow. “Might feel good. They say it helps.”
You scoff at this. “Yeah, I bet ‘they’ all have dicks.”
“We don’t have to.”
Namjoon pauses, as if waiting for you to make a decision. You can’t ignore the way his hands on your tits have worked up a steady pulse between your legs.
“…You’ve done it before?” You squeeze your thighs together as you ask the question.
He shrugs. “Yeah.”
“And it wasn’t gross?”
“No, baby. It’s just a—”
“Do not say fluid,” you interrupt with a grimace.
He quirks an eyebrow. “An output.”
“Actually, I think that’s worse.”
A smile blooms on his face, dimples popping, his hands jiggling your breasts. Playful. “It’s free lube.”
You laugh despite yourself. “We’ll mess up the sheets.”
“We’ll put down a towel,” he corrects. “And if we do, I’ll wash them.”
You pause for a moment, considering. “Promise?” There are few things more torturous than the idea of doing laundry on your period.
“Yes, baby,” Namjoon assures you, his gaze roaming over your face. “But I don’t wanna force you. If you feel that bad, let’s just watch a movie.”
You narrow your eyes at him, unable to hide your smile. “Nuh-uh.” You scoot a little closer, rolling in to hitch a leg over him, your socked foot teasing up the back of his calf. “You played with my tits too much. No turning back now.”
The answer makes him cocky, his tongue briefly toying at the corner of his mouth when he smirks. “I’m not scared.” His voice is deeper, darkened by lust, enough to send a shiver through you.
You tilt your jaw up towards his mouth. “Kiss me.”
His lips are soft and warm when they press to yours, and you tip onto your back again, his knees and forearms sinking into the mattress as he follows to cover your body with his.
Your palms slip under his hoodie to slide up over the smooth, defined muscles of his stomach, the broad expanse of his chest. His tongue flutters over your lower lip, and your hands trace back down to the hem, bunching the thick fabric up in your fists.
“Take this off.”
Namjoon smiles against your skin, trailing kisses down your neck, his hands still pawing under your shirt. “Bossy today.”
You tug at his hoodie again for emphasis, earning a pinch to your nipples in response. “You like it.”
“I do.”
“Off.”
He sits up on his knees, untangling himself from under your shirt to strip, and you do the same. You can see the imprint of his dick already straining against the thin fabric of his joggers, and you reach up to slip your fingers under the waistband, running your palm down the length of him over his briefs. There’s a new kind of ache in your core now.
“These too.”
He laughs a little. “Okay, baby. And do you wanna—”
You follow his gaze to stare down at your own sweatpants. “Yeah, let me just. Bathroom.”
Namjoon leans forward, so his mouth ghosts over yours when you sit up. “I’ll get the towels.” He sucks gently on your bottom lip when he kisses you. It’s enough to leave you breathless.
You do your best not to overthink it as you slip into the bathroom and go through the motions. Sweatpants off, underwear too, pad discarded, attempt to clean up a little. You move fast, trying not to leak. The blankets are pushed to the foot of the bed when you return to the bedroom, brown towels laid over the sheets, even a box of tissues on the nightstand.
Namjoon has kicked off his pants and underwear, one hand lazily pumping himself as he turns to face you, muscles in his forearm shifting from the motion.
You lick your lips appreciatively. His cock is flushed dark, hard, already wet at the tip. The thought of him dripping precum just from setting out towels and tissues makes you giggle a little as you climb into bed— a Virgo through and through.
The mattress shifts as he crawls over you, letting go of himself to trace a slow hand up your thigh, over your hip, to finally settle at your waist. “Still okay?”
You nod and pull him down.
He kisses you more fervently this time, and you tilt your head to lick into his mouth, your breath edged with a moan when your tongues pass over each other. You run your hands along his back, nails scratching gently, as his lips move to brush against your jaw, then nibble at your ear.
“How do you want it, baby?” Namjoon’s voice goes straight to your cunt, thick and dripping like honey.
Your mind swims as you try to answer the question, and you instinctively bring your knees to your chest, not unlike the way you were curled up in bed earlier. You pull them apart a little, spreading yourself for him, nowhere to hide. Heat blooms in your face as his eyes trace your body down to your pussy, and he hums softly.
You suck in a breath at the barely-there brush of contact, his slender fingers tracing over your folds. “Is it bad?”
“It’s perfect. It’s you.” You bite down on your lip, not quite willing to believe it’s that simple. “Can I touch you?” You nod again. He groans a little in the back of his throat when he presses in. “Fuckin’ wet.”
“Joon,” you gasp. Your cunt flutters around his finger, tender, as if to suck him further in. He adds a second, sliding easily, and you can feel the way he curls inside to pet long strokes over the ridges of your front wall, made supple from sensitivity. The pleasure sends a shower of sparks through you, and your spine arches. You squeeze your eyes shut as they roll back in your skull.
“This okay?”
You reach up to dig your fingernails into his arms, his biceps flexing under your touch. “’Sgood, baby. More.”
“More fingers?”
You shake your head, eyes flickering open to meet his. “Cock.”
It’s both dirty and domestic, doing it in broad daylight, the bedroom drenched in mid-afternoon sun that pours between the cracked window blinds. No shadows to disguise it, no questioning the color painted over Namjoon’s fingers when he withdraws, dark red.
Your discomfort feels like an afterthought compared to how badly you want him now. He pauses to wipe the excess off on the towel beneath you, free hand guiding the still-slick tip of his cock to brush over your folds, teasing.
You can’t help but whimper. “Baby.”
With a soft grunt, he does it again, more purposefully now— the whole of this thick cock grinding over your slit, both of you smeared messy with arousal and flushed warm from blood-flow.
You press yourself up on your forearms in time to see him wrap his hand around the base and slide it in. He pushes slow, but you’re wet enough that he can slip right to the hilt without resistance, and your jaw goes slack as you watch all of him disappear up inside you.
“Ah, Joon—” you hiss a little as he bottoms all the way out, fucks in until there’s no space left between you.
He stills his hips, eyes flitting up to find yours. “Hurts?”
You shake your head and whine softly. The stretch was easier than normal, actually. “Just, nnh— full.” Letting your head drop back on the pillow, you breathe a laugh. “You’re fucking big.”
He’s nearly wincing. “You’re swollen, baby. Makes it feel like more.”
The pressure of being filled blooms thick, indulgent, a sensation you can feel all the way down to the soles of your feet, every inch of you plugged up with his cock. You lick your lips and try to speak.
“Can you move?”
Namjoon flashes a dimpled smile, suddenly shy. “Hang on.” He scrunches his nose a little, eyes rolling up briefly to fix at a spot on the wall behind you. You can hear the strain in his voice. “Trying not to come.”
Your eyes go wide. “Really? Are you a teenager?!”
He huffs an indignant laugh, face flushing. “It’s like a fucking flood down there! And you’re extra tight… So damn, give me a second.”
Giggling a little, you reach up to loop your arms around his shoulders, fingernails lazily scratching at the nape of his neck, combing through his dark hair that’s gotten so long. He exhales a slow stream of air as he closes his eyes for a moment, then blinks them open again with a smile.
“Okay. You okay?”
You hum. “The pressure is… it’s good. Think it’s helping.” Your cramps have started to subside, or at least you’re not focused on them.
“It’s not too much, all the way in like this?” He circles his hips experimentally, which makes the head of his cock press firmly against your cervix.
“Fuck,” you hiss, and you feel him reflexively start to pull out, paired with a concerned look flashed over his face. You smack a hand to his lower back to stop him, to hold him still.
“Please, Joonie, don’t— it felt good. Just, ah, keep doing that.”
“You squeezed me so hard. Thought I hurt you.” He rolls his hips again and you both groan softly. “Shit, baby, look down.” Namjoon’s voice is slightly hoarse.
You tilt your head up to see an unmistakable bulge in your lower abdomen that shifts as he ruts his hips into you again. You gasp at the rush of pleasure and the visual of his cock so deep inside you.
“You like that?” You swallow hard and nod at his question, whimpering as he brings one hand up to gently press down around his girth. A mixture of pleasure and relief floods through you, and you moan. “Like it when I’m in your stomach, baby?”
Your head drops back against the pillow. “Fuck” is the only answer you can give as he keeps moving his hips.
It takes you by surprise when you feel the brush of his lips over yours, and you tilt up to deepen the kiss instinctively. “So damn sexy,” he murmurs into your mouth. For a minute, you let the rest go, and allow yourself to believe him.
Namjoon falls into a consistent rhythm, cock grinding into your cervix so steadily that it makes it impossible for you to bite back your moans. He keeps one hand splayed over your stomach to meet himself there, and your cunt squeezed in between feels liable to overflow, on the verge of splitting open.
“Nnh, shit, Joon, that feels so good.” It’s like he’s pressing up on your lungs now— you can hardly breathe, dizzy with pleasure.
Fucking is somehow more intimate this way, taking him as deep as you can go and keeping him there, his shallow flutter-thrusts rocking slow and heavy for your shared sensitivity. Trading lazy kisses and stilted breaths and pretty sounds into each other’s open mouths. The press of his broad hands into your skin and the towel-guarded mattress, the wet squish of your folds on the base of his cock.
“God,” Namjoon groans, breath ghosting over your lips. “This perfect fuckin’ pussy.”
Without warning— or maybe in response— your walls start to pulse, and then the dam of steadily built-up pleasure bursts, a rush so intense that you can only gasp and dig your nails into Namjoon’s shoulders. “Joon, Joon—” You clarify when his brow creases with concern: “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” You think you might die if he does.
He keeps going, barely-there strokes that rub the thick head of his cock into you over and over, and you cry out as you come fully undone.
A strange new feeling lights you up like a live wire, warmth radiating through your body as contractions squeeze your pussy so tight you swear you see stars when you close your eyes.
Namjoon curses under his breath, your whole body shaking beneath him as he works this surprise orgasm all the way out of you, until your thighs reflexively pull together and he stills his motions again.
“Oh my god,” you murmur, turning your head to press your cheek into the pillow. You slowly start to come down through the aftershocks, a lingering buzz glittering in your fingertips from the weight of his cock still crammed up inside you.
Namjoon’s large hands pet up the backs of your thighs, trailing soft heat. “You good, baby? That was crazy.”
“I-I just—” You exhale in an attempt to catch your breath, and it turns into a laugh as your eyes flicker open. “I didn’t know I could come from that. Fuck.”
He cracks a smile. “Sensitive. How’s it feel?” He leans forward to seek a kiss and you return it, nuzzling along the line of his jaw once you break apart. His stubble drags against your cheek, not unpleasant, and you shiver a little.
“I don’t know, I just had a crazy fucking… cervix orgasm,” you tease. “I’d say it’s pretty good.”
“Just don’t want it to hurt.”
“It doesn’t,” you murmur into his mouth. “So fuck me?”
You both moan when Namjoon begins to properly move, thrusting slow and deep-deep, your pussy clinging tight to him on the upstroke. You’re wet enough to gush when he fucks back in— just the sound of it makes your head spin. Your clit aches, so worked up untouched that it’s starting to throb.
“Baby,” you whine. “Touch me. Wanna come again. Please.”
He hums a soft noise of surprise, eyebrows raising, hips worked up to a steady rhythm now. “Already?” His lips press to yours again, and a sly smile spreads across them as he pulls back. “Needy.”
You huff a laugh, leaning up for another kiss, insatiable. “I said please.”
Namjoon earns a whimper out of you this time when his tongue swipes into your mouth, and he’s a little breathless when he breaks away. “I like you needy. I’ll keep you in this bed all day, if that’s what you want.”
“I—nnh—” you lose the thread of mid-sex conversation entirely as he shifts to free one hand and bring the pad of his thumb to your clit, flicking down firmly at a pace to match his strokes. “Fuck, Joon.”
Your hands grasp at the pillow beneath your head, fingers sinking in to grip desperate. He’s pounding heavy into your g-spot now, your legs spread wide and back arched up to take it.
It’s so good, it’s overwhelming, warm glow all the way through you. Arousal drips from your cunt to make the squelch of his strokes even messier. His hips are unrelenting, and your thighs start to shake from the pleasure, amplified with every pass of his thumb over your clit.
“Just—” You can barely speak, have to gasp for air after the first word, “—just like that.”
“Baby,” Namjoon’s voice comes out hoarse, in the way it does when he’s close, too. The bed creaks from the weight of his strokes. “So damn tight, so soft, can you feel it?”
A whine and a nod are all you can manage. You can feel him everywhere, down to the details, the fat veins that run the length of his cock molded to your walls, pulsing velvet heat. Your cunt melts lush around him, wet and raw as he fucks you apart. He rubs you in time to bring you over the edge again, and you’re helpless to it, can only let out a strangled sob of a noise as you tense up and come hard.
Namjoon’s thumb keeps circling, hips keep rocking, working you through it and groaning low in his throat for the way your cunt clenches up around him. Your nails dig into the pillow as you shudder and gasp.
“That’s it, shit, baby. Tight little pussy, gonna make me come too, fuck.”
With a grunt of effort, he pulls out, one hand reaching down to stroke his cock as he comes, thick ropes of his release painting your stomach in milky gloss. Your cunt pulses around nothing, hot pleasure aftermath, twitching sensitive.
Fucked to oblivion, you collapse against the mattress, feeling spent and heavy-all-over. Your head is still spinning, enough that you’re only distantly aware of the way Namjoon’s ragged breathing softens at the edges and starts to dissolve into gentle laughter.
Your eyes blink open to see him leaning over you, reaching for the tissues on the nightstand.
“Good thing I grabbed these,” he remarks as he lifts up his red-stained palm.
You can’t help but gasp at the sight. “Oh my god, Joon.”
The corner of his mouth pulls up enough for a dimple to wink back at you as he goes through a couple tissues to clean himself up. “Relax, baby. It really doesn’t bother me.” He pulls a few more loose from the box to deal with the mess on your stomach. “Just wanna point out that you don’t mind when I come on you.”
You huff. Smart-ass. “It’s different.”
“Is it?” He challenges. “It’s just bodies being bodies. Byproducts of the human condition.”
You can’t quite hide your smile. “You’re a poet.”
“Maybe.” His clean hand smacks playfully against your thigh, jiggling the soft skin there. “Shower time.”
The whine that escapes you sounds pathetic, even to you. Movement of any kind feels impossible. “I won’t make it.”
“Come on.” You yelp and grab to wrap the towel beneath you over your waist as Namjoon scoops you up in an effortless bridal carry and heads for the bathroom. He turns the shower on with his foot as you cling to him for dear life, but he somehow manages not to drop you.
When he deposits you onto still-shaky legs, you let the towel drop to the bathroom floor. The water is scalding when you step into the shower, the way you both like it. Crowding you under the spray, he reaches for the washcloth and squirts a liberal amount of body wash into the fabric, infusing the steam with eucalyptus and mint. It feels like you can breathe a little deeper.
One large hand comes to your hip under the water as he works up a lather. “Turn around.”
You can feel the staining at the crux of your thighs, dry and sticky, as you shift unsurely in place. “Nnh,” you pout. “Can I rinse first?”
“Nope. Tryna take care of you, so let me.”
Scrunching your nose for dramatic effect, you turn for him. When the washcloth passes over your skin, his touch is so gentle, so immediately overwhelming, that emotion bubbles up before you can stop it. There’s nothing you can do to hide the way your shoulders start to shake as tears spill down your face.
It takes a second, and then you feel his motions slowly come to a stop. “Baby?”
You shake your head, embarrassed, bringing your arm up to wipe at your nose. “‘m fine. Emotional. Ignore me.”
“I can’t do that.” He rights himself, and the fingertips of his free hand trace the line of your jaw, encouraging your gaze to meet his. “Talk to me, please.”
Another fat droplet slides down your cheek, and his thumb catches it. You inhale, trying to catch your breath, and your chest shudders. “It just. Feels like too much, sometimes. Like I don’t deserve it.” You gesture broadly. “Everything, you. I don’t know.”
Namjoon frowns a little as he momentarily drapes the washcloth over the edge of the tub. “C’mon, don’t think like that.”
When he pulls you in, you allow yourself to sink into the embrace, tears flowing freely as his strong arms press you close. You know he’ll let you ride it out, the same way you do with him.
His lips brush over your hairline. “You’re good to me, wanna be good back,” he explains, voice low. “That’s all.”
Your cheek rubs against the hard plane of his chest as you nod.
“You’re so good to me, Joon. Too good.”
“Nah.” You don’t even have to look up to know he’s smiling— you can hear it in his voice. “You’re easy to love.”
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-> somebody come get her (she's dancing like a stripper)
-> SUMMARY
You have bills to pay. That's the only thing on your mind when you go in for your shift at the strip club. The only thing on your mind until you see Daichi.
Daichi doesn't expect to find you, the girl of his dreams, at the strip club. In fact, he's 99% certain he shouldn't be here. But now he can't stop thinking of all the things he'd let you do to him.
Will your mutual attraction pay off for the both of you?
-> STATS
Pairing: Daichi Sawamura x Stripper!Reader (get that bread!)
Rating: M for Mature, MDNI
Warnings: My take on a corruption kink except Daichi's the one getting corrupted
Tags: Corruption, strangers to lovers, smut I tell you, filthy filthy smut with my husband, strip club au, oral (m receiving), p in v, creampie, a bit of choking (like a tiny bit), hair pulling, nasty nasty f*cking with my husband, sex in public (sorta, it's in a public restroom), a little dominant confident Reader (if I missed anything y'all can let me know in the DM's)
Word Count: 6.3K
Author's Note: I knew the moment I saw Mint's post . : HERE : . that I had to write something about it. They obligingly gave me the go ahead to be inspired so off I went a-writing. Obviously, this might be considered mild corruption by some but to me? This was like I went into a blackout and woke up not knowing what year it was. So, here you go, enjoy some nasty filthy smut with my love!
-> LINKS
Main Masterlist
HQ Masterlist
Playlist
Moodboard
“Rent’s due on Monday,” your roommate reminds you, concern masked with sympathy clear on her face. She’s not trying to be mean or overbearing but damn it, the stress of the situation makes you want to snark back. But you don’t.
“Do you have your half?” She nods. You nod back decisively. “I’m working tonight. Fridays are good days to work. It’s my first one without shadowing anyone. I’ll have the rest of my half in tips, don’t worry.” Her face brightens as she pours herself a glass of orange juice, sunlight streaming in the kitchen window of the tiny two-bedroom apartment you share with her.
“Thank god. The landlord’s being an ass again. We’ve been late one time. I have half a mind to give him a list of all the things wrong in this shithole instead of the check.” You roll your eyes conspiratorially but in reality, you don’t know if you’ll make your half in tips or not. Maybe your boss will give you an advance. You’ll talk to him tonight. He was surprisingly reasonable so the odds were at least in your favor.
Either way, you’ll get the money. You just hope you’ll be able to put the nervous energy thrumming through your veins to good use.
Daichi Sawamura should not have come here tonight. The guys in the office had convinced him, said there was a new pretty girl who was exactly his type. But this place was not the sort he was used to coming to. It wasn’t that this establishment was a bad one or that he had any problem with it; people had to make money how they could. Empowerment and autonomy and all that. It was more that he felt a little inadequate if he was being completely honest with himself. He wouldn’t know what to do with someone from here. He was used to good girls, the ones who had a routine and didn’t like anything too kinky. Which was also fine. But there were things he wanted to try, had a suspicion he would like that he just couldn’t ask of anyone he’d been with. He scrubbed a hand over his face, realizing the conversation he was having completely in his head was stressing him out.
“Dai, bro, just relax. She’s pretty. You better tip her good but you don’t have to talk to anyone but me and the bartender if you don’t want to. Just enjoy the show.” Kuroo smirks at his friend; it has been a long week. It’s not like he doesn’t deserve to wind down. Part of him just wishes he was doing it in the comfort of his home, with his favorite ramen from around the corner and a good movie. But who knows, maybe he’s getting complacent.
So he sits in the seat Kuroo has pulled out for him, a front-row spot directly in the middle of the runway. Right in front of the center pole. The seats are comfortable and he’s got a whiskey neat in his hands. He can feel a little of the stress release from the muscles in his traps, can feel his jaw unclench just in the slightest as the first warm sip of whiskey flows down his throat.
This is fine, he reassures himself, pushing work from his brain. Kuroo takes a sip from his own drink, a fruity one that he insists is the most delicious ever but is just a little too sweet for Daichi. The place is in a lull right now, preparing for the next act. But soon there’s a growing murmur from the back. Someone whistles, and a few others catcall. Daichi bristles just a bit, but he can’t even see anything until you hit the steps and it’s then that Kuroo elbows him.
“That’s her,” he says, raising his voice so Daichi can hear over the now thrumming bass. He feels it in his toes, in his chest, in his head. But your steps, the bounce of your tits in a skimpy bright blue bikini top, he feels in his dick. It barely covers anything, just like the matching bottoms. Cute little bows keep them on your hips and your heels are a deep black. As you get closer, your walk slow and sensuous, he can see the peep toe and your fresh French manicure poking through. He tries to adjust his navy suit pants with little success. He’s in so much fucking trouble.
You strut up the steps, the blinking LED strips embedded into the floor blinking in rhythm with the bass and the rhythm of your hips. You put a little bit of extra attitude into the sway tonight, praying to any higher power that will listen that tonight will be a good one for tips, even though it’s your first show without any supporting performers. Part of you gets it; you’re new. The owner has to make sure you know how to use those doe eyes and amazing tits properly. The other part of you, the one that knows you’re hot and knows exactly what you’re doing, wanted to smirk a little when your boss had said you wouldn’t get a Friday on your own until you’d completed two weeks of bartending and shadowing.
Your hard work has paid off though, and when you take your place at the center of the runway, you know you have your audience hooked even before dancing. There’s one guy in particular, right below you. He got arguably the best seat in the house along with his friend. You’ve seen the friend before, all confidence, slicked-back black hair, and a steamy attractive smile. Your coworkers say he’s pretty regular and always tips well. Thank god. The one next to him though, you don’t know anything about him except for the fact that the five stages of something flow across his face as you make eye contact with him. The low lighting does nothing to hide the blush flushing from the open neck of his crisp white button up to his cheeks and over the bridge of his nose. He’s got a wad of cash already set casually on the bar top in front of him.
You smile, bright and unguarded, knowing. You’ll have the rest of Monday’s rent if he’s an indication of the rest of the customers that will be coming in tonight. He turns away, uncomfortable. Aw, how sweet. So unlike some of the slimy patrons you’re used to. Something you don’t like trips low in your belly. The biggest rule was no sex with any of the customers. It was in place for a reason and a majority of the time was a good one. You remind yourself of it as the song for your first dance starts playing over the speakers.
Buss it, buss it, buss it, buss it
Is you fuckin’? Two shots, fuck it
You take a deep breath, hands on the shiny silver pole, and wrap one leg around it. The metal is cold to the touch but something else has goosebumps crawling up your bare skin. When you spin, turning in the new guy’s direction, your suspicions are confirmed that the feeling is not the rest of the eyes on you but his. And his are suddenly, somehow, the only eyes you want to perform for. So you do.
Daichi can feel Kuroo snap to attention next to him; he can’t blame him. You’re stunning and you know it. You look like maybe you shouldn’t know how to do this so well, but none of that matters as all coherent thoughts leave Daichi’s head when you spin and drop, rolling your hips so your ass faces him. You turn and look at him as you rise slowly, a deliciously naughty smile still all over that pretty little mouth. He rushes to take a sip of his drink, drums his fingers on the bartop, runs them through his hair, anything to occupy his hands. Because he knows the only place they really should be is all over you. Oh, the things he would let you do to him. He’d do anything for you. He takes another gulp of whiskey, disappointed when he drains the heavy glass.
Oh, shit. Oh, shit. He knew you were making eye contact with him but when you get on all fours and crawl to him like some lethal jungle cat, the end of the song nearing, he knows he’s in for it. And he’s okay with that. Any doubts he had, about being here at least, have vanished completely. He doesn’t know what’s gotten into him but he leans forward to meet you where you are at the edge of the stage. The crowd is roaring around him, the cheers only growing louder at the chemistry shooting like electricity through the air between the two of you. They’re jealous cheers he thinks, although he’s sure as hell not looking away long enough to check anyone’s expressions to confirm.
“Got anything good for me, pretty boy?” Your voice is pitched low as you blink big eyes at him, a smirk playing on your lips. Because, goddammit, he is pretty. Prettier than any other patrons you’d ever catered to. You would not mind if he came to be one of your regulars, regardless of any funds that might be exchanged. You would not mind if he came regularly—in your cunt, on your ass, on your tongue… A girl could take her pick with a man like him. Thick dark hair, glittering brown eyes, full lips. A barrel chest and wide shoulders to boot. No sex with the customers, no sex with the customers, no sex with the customers…
You watch, heat pooling low in your belly, as he unbinds the cash you had noticed earlier. You can’t quite figure him out. Because he’s making eye contact with you as he spreads the folded bills, licks his thumb, and pulls out two crisp Benjamins but there is a nervous tremor in his large hands as he passes the bills to you. Your eyes widen, the act dropping momentarily before you catch yourself and push out your bottom lip in a pout.
“Hm, a girl should get a little more than that for such a good performance, don’t you think?” You are completely used to this, the schpeel. You’ve done it thousands of times at the last place you worked and hundreds more at this club. It’s part of the persona within these walls. Mystery man is apparently not used to acting this way. You can see the war within him as you take the bills and he leans back, trying to be casual but every line of him is taught like a rubber band about to break.
“You here all night?” Don’t give anyone your schedule. If they like you enough, they’ll figure it out on their own by being a regular paying customer. You nod, liking this new game. Toeing around something you would normally consider dangerous, if only for all the variables far out of your control. But that makes it all the more fun, especially when he clicks his tongue behind his teeth and replies “Good, then so am I. I have more where that came from. Do you?”
Kuroo is watching the interaction with a gaping mouth. Daichi doesn’t have a clue where this new side of him is coming from. Except. Except he does. And it feels damn good. Despite being sure it is glaringly obvious that he is leaping so far out of his comfort zone, you seem to be very receptive. He shouldn’t be entertaining the idea of staying all night. He could use some sleep. But he could also use that mouth around his cock. You probably have rules, rules that should be followed, for your safety. Daichi knows he’s safe, but you don’t. He most definitely should not ask for your number or give you his or ask what time you’re off. You shouldn’t answer him.
But you do, nodding earnestly when he asks if you’ll be here all night. He has no choice. There’s something about you that he can’t shake off. The extra cash is of no consequence to him, and maybe, just maybe… No, he won’t let that thought go further. He won’t imagine how you’d look on your knees, or bouncing on his cock. He won’t imagine you writhing beneath him or securing him to his headboard with those cuffs he’d bought but never gotten to use. He won’t imagine you breathily calling him pretty boy again even though, fuck, he wishes you would so, so bad.
“What’s your name,” you ask before you can stop yourself, before you rise to your feet. The rules here are good ones, meant to keep both the patrons and performers safe. You’d worked at other establishments before that didn’t care so much about safety so much as they cared about money. Your radar has never been off in the past and maybe that shouldn’t be enough for you but everything about Mystery Man makes you want to break every rule ever set before you. There’s something about him that makes you want to risk it all. You want to hear him whimper and you’d place bets that you could get him to do it in record time. Even now, his breathing is shallow and he seems unable to answer you. His friend leans over, elbowing him into action.
“His name’s Daichi. And mine’s Kuroo. Ya know, in case you wanted to know.” His smile is genuine, not creepy at all. You return the grin as you stand before turning back to Daichi. He straightens a little, snapped back to reality by his friend.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” you say to Kuroo. He is attractive, just not who you have your eyes set on. But it’s good information to pass along to your coworkers. Judging by his tailored suit that fits just as good as Daichi’s, you’d wager his job pays like his friend’s. The music swells again, the DJ cueing to your next song. “Kuroo, make sure your friend doesn’t go anywhere. Tonight’s for him.” Kuroo scoffs in friendly disbelief at Daichi’s luck.
“I’m hauling you to the club more often,” he says to Daichi, who flashes a quick small smile. Oh god, that smile could bring anyone you know to their knees. It could certainly do it to you. That smile alone could get you to do anything Daichi would ask. You point at Kuroo as you take your place at the center pole again.
“I’m holding you to that, Kuroo.” You brace your hands one over the other on the pole, and shake your ass for all it’s worth.
Body crazy, curvy, wavy, big titties, little waist.
Daichi’s going to have a stroke, he just knows it. He can feel the veins in his forehead and neck bulging. The blood has flowed elsewhere too. His cock is so hard it feels painful. There are several different ways he could get relief, most of which he should not be considering seeking in a public area. But it’s unbearable and there’s no way he’s going to let himself come in front of all these other people. He waits for the end of your current number and then he’s standing so fast his chair screeches out behind him; a couple of people look his way but for the most part, you’ve got everyone’s attention. Kuroo glances sideways at his friend; he doesn’t say anything, just smirks as Daichi tosses another hundred on the bar top, telling Kuroo to give it to you before rushing to the bathroom.
He makes his way down the hall and notices there are several doors marked RESTROOM in bold capital letters. Thank god there are single-person stalls. He stumbles into one, shutting the door and locking it with shaking hands. The music is still audible, even here; it seems to have dropped to a low steady hum. Intermission. Perfect. Daichi turns to the sink and splashes cold water on his face, one last attempt to snap himself out of this fucking trance. Because that’s what this has to be. He’s getting all hot and bothered over someone who he doesn’t even know. And god, he wants to think that you like him but he knows he’s tipping good and he’s not one of those creeps that can’t recognize it’s your fucking job.
The image in the mirror is one that almost shocks him; his eyes are glazed, and his hair’s a mess. Just once, he just needs to come once and then he can stay here until the end of the night like he said he would. He’ll tip you like a good customer would. Then he’ll leave and he’ll never come back. Because this? This is Daichi out of control and he’s not sure that’s a good thing. Maybe he should go back to making love to nice girls in his king-sized bed. Yes, that’s what he’ll do. He’ll leave here and he won’t come back and he’ll never think of you again.
Daichi unbuckles his belt, the metal of the buckle clanking as he yanks his zipper down. He lets out a pained breath, his cock straining against his underwear. He slips his hand into the elastic band, taking it into his hand and bringing it out into the air. He backs up to the wall, the cool air offering little comfort for the engorged head, and closes his fist around himself. A breath comes fast and heavy out of his mouth as he starts jacking himself off slowly, trying to make the moment last.
You watch as Daichi stands abruptly, so quickly and sharply that he almost topples his chair over. You watch as he tosses another bill on the bar top, leaning in to say something to Kuroo. You watch as he throws one last glance your way before beelining to the bathrooms. Idiot. Absolute idiot is what you are because you’re making your way off the runway, ignoring the audience as a low boo goes through the crowd. Your boss catches your eye from the end of the bar and waves you over.
“What the hell is going on?” It’s not said unkindly but more with an air of annoyance. This is your first Friday night on your own and you might be blowing it. But you don’t care. You put on a fake wince and point at your head, trying to look as contrite and imploring as possible.
“I’m so sorry, I know it’s my first Friday and I’m so grateful. But I’ve really gotta pee and I’ve got this horrible headache starting. Can I take ten? Just ten minutes, enough time for an ibuprofen to set in while I go to the bathroom, and then I’ll be back out. Please.” You put those big eyes back to use, blinking slow and tilting your head slightly like you’re trying to relieve the pain of your fake headache. Your boss squints his eyes but doesn’t protest as he pulls a bottle of Advil from behind the bar. He hands you a couple with a glass of water.
“Ten minutes. Go to the bathroom. Take a breather. Then get your ass back out there. I’ve seen the business you’re encouraging after two sets. You’ll be back up there as one of my main performers if you keep up the good work.” You smile as you throw the pills back with the water and hurry in the direction of the restroom, pulling on one of the extra robes from the bar. Now to find Daichi.
A couple is making out in the hallway; you brush past them and knock quietly on the first door. A voice answers quickly that the stall is occupied but it’s not Daichi’s voice. You knock on two more doors before getting to the last one. You suppose he could have gone into the multi-stall restroom but you’d seen the look on his face when he’d stood and you’d bet all the cash he’d given you so far that he wasn’t coming back here to take a piss. You rap your knuckles on the last single-person stall. You’re rewarded with his voice coming from the other side.
“There’s someone-ha-there’s someone in here!” He can barely get the words out; you know what’s going on in that stall and you want to help. You rub your thighs together, realizing you’re already getting wet.
“Daichi, it’s me.” This is stupid. Maybe he doesn’t even like you that much. Maybe you’re just some stripper at a strip club. There’s a heavy silence now, almost solid enough that you could cut it with a knife. Another pause and you’re getting ready to leave, cursing your confidence for all that it’s getting you, but then you hear the click of the door unlocking. He opens it but only just so. Still, it’s an invitation and one you are eager to accept. You open the door just wide enough to slip through to shield yourself from any potential wandering eyes in the hall. The scene inside the stall nearly wrecks you.
Daichi has backed up against the wall, as far away from you as humanly possible. It’s so obvious that he’s been jacking himself off. His hair is messy, his eyes wild like he was already on the brink. He’s desperately trying to cover his cock with his hands and even though they’re large, they can’t cover it completely. You meet his gaze, which he tries to avoid, his eyes fluttering left then right with shame, before finally settling on you. Something trips across your skin.
“Babe, let me help you with that,” you whisper as you direct your line of sight to his cock. It twitches as you move closer, slowly, as if you’re approaching a cornered animal. Daichi groans a little when you reach him, one hand steadying on his shoulder and the other reaching up to touch his face.
“This is—this is not what it looks like, I swear. I promise I’m not some creep, I just—” You put a single finger softly to his lips, making sure he’s got his eyes on you. They widen just a bit. In the brighter light of the bathroom, you can see how rich the color of his irises are, golden brown like sunlight streaming through an autumn wood, or espresso, or something corny like that. Fuck the rules.
“Daichi, can I kiss you?” The question is out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. His mouth drops open but his eyes rove from yours down to your lips, then your covered chest, and back up. Finally, he nods so you guide his face down to yours and kiss him. His lips are soft and warm and pliable. He makes a little sound in the back of his throat, so unlike the image he’d put out walking in this place with his fine, tailored suit and stack of cash. Your hand slips from his shoulder and moves down the ridge of his pectoral, then lower still to the hard planes of his stomach. You trail your fingers over the now wrinkled fabric, close to his undone belt and open pants. His cock jumps against your abdomen past his hands and he gasps. “Is this okay?” You ask the question, certain that Daichi just needs the chance to give in. He nods again so you smooth your hand lower until it wraps around his cock.
Daichi’s head thunks against the wall of the bathroom as another sharp breath explodes from his open mouth. “Oh, fuck,” he growls quietly. You move your hand experimentally, softly, swiping your thumb across the head, gathering the bit of precome at the tip and smearing it about. You can’t decide what you want to look at more: the red bleeding over Daichi’s skin from the neck up, his heaving chest, or how his cock looks in your hands. He’s so… responsive. Each turn of your wrist has him shuddering beneath you. More. You need more. You want to see him beg. And part of you also realizes that he needs this too. You drop to your knees and his eyes snap back open as he watches you. “What’re you doing?”
“Only what you want me to do, Daichi. Unless you don’t want me to?” You don’t even finish your sentence before he’s shaking his head. He wraps his hand around yours, enveloping it, and moves it once, twice, over himself. A thought occurs to you, one you’re denying even as you ask him “Daichi, have you ever come down anyone’s throat?” The answer is obvious but you still feel incredulous as he tells you no. The veins in his hands are bulging and he’s still, like the calm before the storm. You lean in, maintaining eye contact, as you blow a breath over his cock. “Do you want to?”
It’s like you flipped a switch. Daichi, slowly now so you have time to pull away if you want to, curls his fingers in your hair, stroking them along your scalp. “Yes, please.” He whispers it, certain this is a dream. This has to be a fucking dream. He’s had a blow job before but never has he ever asked to come in someone’s mouth. He’s a clean guy but he’s not clueless; he just assumed most people thought it was gross and never had a problem with the fact that no one wanted to do that. At least not anyone he had been with. But, oh, he’d thought about it, lots of times. Most of those times in one night.
His pupils are blown wide as you lick your lips and take just the tip, swirling your tongue over the head. His skin is smooth, molten hot. The way your eyes never leave his is something else entirely and when you hollow out your cheeks and relax your throat to take all of him, he thinks he might die. He’s trying to maintain some semblance of control but it is already dwindling to nothing. There’s a coil building in his abdomen. Not yet he thinks viciously. Not yet. You take a few more pulls before releasing him with a pop. Frantic, he feels frantic. Maybe you decided you didn’t want to do this and he’d have to be okay with that, he couldn’t blame you but god damn—
“Daichi, eyes on me.” The man’s Adam’s apple bobs as he locks in on you again. “Let go, babe. Show me how you want it. Pull my hair. Set the pace. And when you’re gonna come, you come down my throat. Nowhere else, you got it? I’ve got five more minutes. Think we can get you there, pretty boy?” He nearly blacks out when you say those words he needed to hear again. Oh, yes, yes he’s sure you can. His eyes search yours once more before fisting his hand in your hair, tightening experimentally. You smile around his cock, deep-throating him once more, but waiting expectantly. He’s not going to come back from this. You’ve ruined anyone else for him. And he’s accepted his fate.
The moment he lets go, the moment he breaks down whatever wall is holding him in place, you can sense it. You place your hands on his thighs as he pulls you nearly all the way off before shoving you back down. Your eyes water just a bit but you feel the slick gather between your thighs. Yes, the girl inside of you that wants to see him to the end hisses. He sets the pace, a strong and quick one, but somehow still gentle. If you said you needed to stop now, you somehow know he’d do so immediately. He twists a little more, angling your head just how he wants it. You set your teeth down ever so lightly just to see….
Daichi whimpers and gasps, the sound nearly a sob on his lips. You swirl your tongue again and suck. “Ha—shit. Just. Just like that,” he grits out as he grips tighter. It hurts a little, your hair and your knees, but the pain swirls with the pleasure in a delicious slide of skin against skin. Your nails dig into his thighs again before he takes one of your hands and closes it around the base of his cock. You grip, working your wrist along with your mouth. He bucks against you, a jerky movement. “I’m close, fuckfuckfuck I’m close. I’m gonna come.” His voice lies somewhere between a bark and a whine. He can’t decide if he wants you closer, or farther, to stop or keep going. His brain is short-circuiting. He tries to pull back just a little bit, but you won’t let him in the best way possible.
You quirk your wrist and tilt your head in just a certain way… Daichi cries out, long and broken, as he curls in over you, his orgasm washing over him in waves so intense his vision goes black. His entire body shudders with his release, his form towering over you as he spurts ropes of come all the way down your throat. You milk him for all he’s worth. Not a single drop is getting away from you, no way in hell. Next time, you want him to come in your pussy. Next time? God, you want there to be a next time. He’s still leaning over you when his breathing slows and steadies; his hands are bracing themselves on your back rubbing soothing circles there with his thumbs. He helps you to your legs and steadies you for a moment.
The silence stretches on as you look at each other, both a little shocked at what just conspired. Daichi slowly puts himself back into his pants and you help him buckle his belt. You’re both on the verge of saying something either extremely brave or extremely stupid with each moment that passes. You’re about to make the first move again when he reaches up and takes your jaw in his hand, running a thumb along the corner of your mouth to gently push the last of his spend into your mouth. You lean into the touch and welcome his finger, sucking it clean just like his dick. He thinks he might be in love with you.
A breathless giggle comes out of you as you back away just a fraction, trying to give yourself space from the startling sensation fluttering in your stomach like butterflies. Your boss is gonna kick your ass if you don’t get back out on the floor. “I would invite you to my place to continue this after I’m off but it’s a little crowded and the walls are thin,” you say, hoping against hope that he wants more just as much as you do. There’s no room for doubt when he leans in and kisses you, deep and slow, tasting himself in your mouth.
“That’s no problem, princess. If you’re still feeling this when you’re off, I’ve got a penthouse all to myself.” Oh, there it is—the swagger you expected him to have. Your eyes glitter as you smooth out your hair, knowing it still looks good enough to perform. If anything, the smell of sex and the appearance of your swollen lips will get you better money, as long as your boss doesn’t catch on. You don’t think he will. “I’ll find you at the end of the night.” You nod, suddenly the bashful one.
Somehow, everything that just transpired did so all in your ten-minute break. In fact, you have one minute to spare as you strut back to the runway, giving your boss a wink and blowing a kiss to the stupefied audience.
“Harder, Daichi, harder.” You can barely get the words out as he thrusts inside of your aching cunt. Your face is pushed into the pillows on Daichi’s king-sized bed, your ass in the air. The sound of skin slapping on skin in the quiet of his room is pornographic but you can’t waste any thoughts on being even remotely embarrassed. Tears stream down your face as he continually hits that spot inside of you that you’ve only been able to hit with a dildo and even then it never came close to this. Daichi’s a machine, the way he keeps going. After you sucked him off and he came so quickly earlier in the night, he was determined to make this one last longer. One of his hands is gripping tightly into the plush of where your hip meets your ass cheek, the other is splayed over your back, even now caressing the skin, alighting it with goosebumps. “Oh, fuuuuuck,” you whine as that same hand snakes around to your neck to pull you up.
His fingers and palm ghost over the skin as he thrusts up into you and it’s all you can do to hold to his thighs for dear life, your nails digging in so hard you’ll know they’ll leave a mark. “Are you close, princess?” He whispers it labored into your ear, his breath hot, his mouth even hotter as he leans in to nip at your pulse point from behind. You nod frantically, almost unable to answer. “Can I come inside, baby? Will you let me? Will you let me be a good boy for you?” His hand moves from your throat to your clit, stroking one slow circle over the oversensitive nub. Thank god for birth control.
“Yes, Daichi, yes, come in my pussy. Oh, god, yes be a good boy for me.” You squeal as he thrusts hard, once, twice, swiping his fingers over your clit again in a more concentrated pattern and you feel your first orgasm of the night sweep over you as Daichi finds his own release with a mangled, animalistic groan. You think he’s done, especially when he pulls out leaving you feeling way too empty. But you’re wrong, so, so wrong. He proceeds to flip you over and push back in, a ring of white forming around where he’s begun thrusting inside of you again.
“I thought about this all fucking night.” He surges up over you, grabbing your wrists and pulling them above you. “I thought about that pretty little cunt around my cock. I thought about how pretty you’d look laying in my bed.” One thrust, slow and teasing. You roll your hips up to meet him, even though your thighs are weak and shaking. “I’ve never–I’ve never fucked anyone like this before, it’s,” he leans in to suck on your pulse again, runs his tongue over the salty skin there, “magical.” You whimper beneath him when you feel the familiar coil tightening once more in your belly.
“Do you think I can make you come again, Daichi? Can you come for me one more time?” He groans, sealing his lips over yours as he releases your hands so that can pull him closer into you. You scrape your nails from the nape of his neck into his hair, and grip, breathless, as his rhythm becomes choppy again. God, you don’t know how he’s still going. The two of you are so frenzied, the blood in your veins hotter than a blue flame. “Look at me when you come, baby, look at me,” you whisper, bringing your hands to his cheeks. His eyes are glazed, his face strained but still beautiful. “I’m going to touch myself now, okay?” His mouth pops open again as he nods, before watching as you wrap one arm around his shoulder and bring your other hand to your clit. You swipe around his cock, collecting some of the mess you’ve both made there. You know how to pleasure yourself and with Daichi’s expert stroke, it doesn’t take long before it snaps over you, the walls of your pussy squeezing around him forcing spend from him one more time. It’s not as explosive as the first time but still enough that you can feel the wet leaking out onto his sheets. “So good for me, Daichi, look how good you are for me,” you chant as you wring the last of the pleasure from each other.
When it’s over, he stills, pulling out of you and collapsing onto the bed beside you. There’s a sheen of sweat covering you both. The cool early morning air coming in Daichi’s open window creates the perfect juxtaposition of sensations. He reaches over to trace patterns into your palm. “Can I hold you?” The question is so sweet, it makes you huff out a laugh. The man just blew your back out and he asks if he can hold you. But you are more than willing to oblige him so you roll into his open arm and lay your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. You wait a moment before looking up at him, relishing the feeling of his fingers now tracing patterns into your arm and shoulder.
“Didn’t you mention something about handcuffs earlier?” He looks down at you jerkily, a sheepish grin on his face. You smile mischievously. You’re going to ruin him. He’s going to let you. And he’s going to love it.
“Let me make you breakfast first, yeah?” You nod and breathe in the smell of him, all sex and musk and expensive cologne. Neither one of you knows where this is going to go but right now, it doesn’t matter. You yawn and snuggle closer.
“Just so you know,” you intone sleepily, “I like French toast.” He laughs softly, his own body relaxing into a lazy slumber.
“Hm, French toast? I pinned you as a pancake kinda girl. Good thing I also like French toast and always keep the supplies in to make it.” His breathing is slow and shallow, matching the rhythm of yours. The sun peeks over the cityscape around you as the two of you go under, cradled in each other’s arms.
This work and its digital elements (photo credit to photographer) are © Kait of @kaitsawamura 2024. Please do not alter or copy this work. Please do not repost this work to other platforms without my express permission.
#daichi sawamura x reader#sawamura daichi x reader#daichi sawamura x you#sawamura daichi x you#daichi x reader#haikyuu x reader#haikyu x reader#hq x reader#fic: somebody come get her#kait writes#daichi ♥︎
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Twin Flame - Dean Winchester (smut)
Inspired by the song "Twin Flame" by Brennan Story. I love love love this fic, and I hope y'all will love it too. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: Months ago Dean had broken the reader's heart, a desperate try to protect her. But he no longer manages to stay away, needing to find his way back to her.
Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, slight breeding kink, makeup sex, some heartbreak in the beginning, a very very happy end
Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (2.8k words)
Well this road don't get no shorter, I would've drove the whole thing for you, my tank down to a quarter, and it'll be gone soon
„What is up with you lately, Dean?” Sam’s voice filled Baby, worried eyes watching his brother. No reply left Dean as he kept driving on, caught in his memories like a fly trapped in the web of a spider set to kill. He was stuck, without a way out, and yet, deep down inside he prayed that he’d never be able to leave those memories behind.
Whenever he got a moment to let his thoughts wander, he had to think of her, the one who still holds his heart in her hands, even after all these months. Being with her had been something he had never experienced before, a new sensation he longed for like a man dying of thirst dreaming of any water he could drink. Loving her had been everything Dean wasn’t, it had been sweet, easy, it had been too good to be true.
Whenever he was lying awake at night, eyes staring at the dirty ceiling of the motel rooms he and Sam found shelter in, he imagined her laying next to him, head resting on his chest, listening to his calmly beating heart. Dean still felt her weight on him, if he closed his eyes he could feel her right there with him, murmuring sweet nothings into his ear, words that had been etched into his mind.
“Dean?” Sam tried again, worried eyes flickering back to the dark road ahead, knowing that it would take them at least a couple more hours to make their way to the bunker. “Hey man, c’mon, talk to me, I can tell something is going on.”
“It’s nothing, Sammy.” His voice told Sam everything he needed to know, exposing the hurt, the sadness flushing through Dean’s system. Dean’s green eyes were hazy, no longer filled with that special glint spurring him on whenever they were on a hunt, it felt as if he was no longer in the car with Sam, just a body without a soul tied to it.
“Is it about her? Dean, you should just call her, reach out, it’s never too late.” A sharp inhale of cold air was forced into Dean’s lungs, teeth grazing his lower lip to stop his angry words from rolling off his tongue. He couldn’t reach out, couldn’t call the one whose heart he had broken, leaving her behind without looking back once, choosing the life with his brother over her, a hunter just like him and his brother – a woman Dean wanted to protect from being hurt because of him.
The cold words he had spoken to her were still ringing in his ears, how he had pushed her away, nothing but a stupid spiel Dean stuck to, in order to save her from a life filled with uneasy times, with hunts that would leave their marks on her. Dean Winchester would do everything to keep her safe, even if it meant breaking (y/n)’s heart, and his own.
And my drink been feelin' lighter, 'cause I'm a lover not a fighter, and I seen that you caught fire, when you put me out
“Sammy, wake up, we’re home.” Dean’s rough voice filled the dark night, hand shaking his brother’s shoulder. It took Sam a moment to wake, hands rubbing his tired eyes. Slowly did the younger Winchester brother undo his seatbelt, halting his movements as he noticed that Dean wasn't moving.
“What’s wrong?” Worry dripped from the tip of Sam’s tongue, watching his brother’s gaze flicker between the steering wheel and the phone Dean kept clinging to.
“I have something to do, I’ll be gone for a few days.” Silence filled Baby, a silence so loud, Dean started to shuffle around in his seat, waiting for his brother to speak up or to start moving, already annoyed with the time they kept wasting just now. Dean was feeling antsy, nervousness filled his system, a sensation so unfamiliar he couldn’t help but curse it.
“Dean,” Sam whispered his brother’s name, hand finding his shoulder. “Get her back, stop worrying about dragging her down with you, she’s stronger than the both of us combined, she’ll do just fine being around us.”
Dean couldn’t reply, throat too tight, mouth too dry to produce any sounds, unsure what to say to the brother of his that looked at him with so much hope swimming in his pupils. Sam didn’t know much about the night where Dean had left her, he didn’t know of the words he had spoken, hurtful words that have left their scars on his and her soul, it’d be a miracle if she’d take Dean back. But he couldn’t breathe without her near, couldn’t live on without her by his side.
……
“Absolutely not.” (Y/n)’s eyes met Dean’s desperate ones, body turned from him as she tried to close her door, without any luck, wood caught by the boot he had pushed past her entrance. A string of curses left her, jaw ticking in anger as her eyes found their way back to his, reading the pleading swimming in his pupils before she slowly took a step back, inviting him back in.
Dean followed her through the all too familiar four walls he had once started to call his new home, the house they should grow old in, the house they should raise their children in, nothing but mere dreams that have evaporated into nothing but a hazy dream both could no longer recreate.
“I always knew you’d step low, but turning up here is ruthless, even for you, Dean Winchester.” (Y/n) had her arms wrapped around herself, eyes not daring to leave his once. Slowly he sank down on her couch, right next to her, not giving (y/n) a chance to move away. Without thinking he reached for her hand, moving faster than she had anticipated, catching her fingers before she could move them away as if he was a flame she burnt herself on.
“I wasn’t planning on coming here, hell, I wasn’t planning on ever setting my foot back in this house.” His whispers were torn between sounds reminding one of cries for help and a voice so quiet one could have problems understanding what he was saying. An angry huff left (y/n), glassy eyes focusing on the calloused fingertips stroking the back of her hand, pushing an all too familiar sensation through her body. She was trembling, begging for whoever was listening to relieve her from the pain she had never been able to let go of, and yet she had tried to keep on moving, without looking back once.
“You broke my heart, you left me without an explanation, just your awful words. One day you were here, and the next you were suddenly gone. It took me a while to give my life a new meaning, to adjust to hunting on my own, but I managed just fine for the past months, Dean. Why do you have to return the second I’m finally okay on my own?” Her tears started rolling down her cheeks, dripping from her chin like a once dry waterfall regaining its impressive strength. With his other hand finding her jaw, Dean started drying her tears, heart clenching in his chest as he was once again reminded of the pain he had pushed her through.
“I know, and I’m so sorry for being so fucking selfish, but I can’t stay away. Every second without you by my side is pure torture, you’re the only thing I can think of, no matter when or where I am. I’m sorry sweetheart, I really am. All I ever wanted to do was keep you safe, after watching you getting hurt because of me, because I couldn’t step back from a hunt we should have called backup for, I knew i had to get away from you. I can’t be the reason you get into any more danger. But as much as I hate myself for saying it, I can’t live without you, not any longer.” A heavy sigh left (y/n) as she looked at Dean, focusing on the pain filling his green pupils, on the lifeless expression tugging on his features. He was no longer the Dean she had once been with, no, he had changed, their breakup had left its marks on him, as much as it had left its marks on her. And yet she still longed for him, after all the sleepless nights she had cursed him for.
“I need time to think this through, you have hurt me so much, Dean, so much. But I still love you, a lot. You can sleep on the sofa and we can talk in the morning.” Slowly Dean let go of her, pulling his hands away to give (y/n) enough space to rise to her feet. With one last glance thrown his way, she disappeared down the hallway, letting the door to her bedroom fall shut with a soft thud.
And as Dean sat on the sofa he had once put together with (y/n), he couldn’t help but give into the tears welling up in his eyes.
And I'd set fire onto, these boots running from the hard truth, that you don't need me the same way I need you
……
Dean woke with a groan leaving him, back aching from the uncomfortable position he had been sleeping in. It took him a few seconds to remember the past hours, how he had turned up at (y/n)’s place, how he had cried into his hands as she had parted from him. His green eyes shot open, finding a pair of all too familiar eyes already staring at him. (Y/n) was sitting on the edge of the sofa, wearing the same shirt she had worn hours ago. Only now did Dean realise that the shirt had once belonged to him, pushing a very welcomed heat through his aching body.
“I made some coffee.” Her soft voice left his heart skipping beats, needing to cherish these moments should she ask him to leave in the upcoming minutes. Slowly did Dean sit up, stretching his neck and arms before he murmured a “Thank you, sweetheart”, taking the cup of warm coffee (y/n) pushed into his direction.
“I didn’t catch any sleep, but I got enough time to think.” Dean braced himself for the words she was about to speak, teeth grazing his lower lip. His heart was racing way too fast for the early hour, and yet Dean didn’t manage to calm his system, palms growing sweatier with every second. He struggled to look into the eyes he’d see whenever he closed his at night, desperate to feel her close, pupils that were once so familiar, so loved, pupils that felt like nothing but a fever dream now. “I love you too much to push you away, but it’ll take me some time to trust you again, Dean. You have to accept that we’ll both get hurt on hunts, with or without Sammy. And you’ll accept that I’ll join you on all hunts I want to join, you won’t get a say about my decisions. Are we clear?”
He looked at her for a few more moments before his hand found the back of her neck, pulling (y/n) in for a bruising kiss. With a gasp leaving (y/n) she moved closer, arms finding their way around his neck, allowing Dean to pull her into his lap. The kiss was fuelled by their longing for one another, hearts begging them to never part ways again, unable to endure another wave of heartbreak.
“I’ll do whatever it takes to get you back, whatever you need. I love you so much, sweetheart, I don’t want to live another day without you by my side.” Dean murmured his words against her lips, pulling her in for another kiss as his hands disappeared underneath the comfortable shirt of his she was wearing. Her breath hitched in her chest as Dean shuffled them around, pressing (y/n) against the sofa with him nestling between her thighs. Moans clawed through the two as Dean began to roll his hips, rubbing his hardening bulge against her damp panties.
“Been dreaming about you touching me, as much as I hated myself for it, I couldn’t help but miss you, your lips, your fingers.” A soft, throaty laugh rumbled through Dean as he pushed her shirt up to expose her chest to his hungry eyes, lips finding her hardening nipples almost instantly, leaving his marks on every inch of her warm flesh.
“Fuck, no matter what I tried, my mind always wandered back to you. I imagined the words you’d moan, how you’d wrap your fingers around my cock. Can’t believe I’m getting another chance to love you.” No longer could she reply to his words, (y/n) had almost forgotten the loving words his mouth and mind were able to create in moments like this one, set on making her feel the love his heart pumped through his system. “I need to be inside of you, it’s been too fucking long. Do you have a condom?”
“No, but I’m clean, I didn’t sleep with anybody but you.” She was almost scared to ask Dean if he had touched another woman, struggling to form the question that now rang through her mind, leaving her breathless. Dean pushed another kiss against her lips before he shuffled out of his clothes, exposing his twitching cock to her wandering eyes.
“Good, you’re mine to touch only, forever mine. I didn’t touch anybody else, just the thought of it made me sick, no matter how much alcohol I needed to try and forget about us.” With her hand finding its way back to his neck, and with her legs slowly wrapping themselves around his hips, (y/n) chased his slightly swollen lips.
The sound of their moans leaving them in unison was drowned by their kiss, Dean moved slow at first, needing to hold back before he’d cum right there and then, no longer used to feeling her tightness wrapped around his cock. Both clung to one another as he fucked her into the sofa, with one hand placed on the arm rest and the other on her waist, leaving marks with his fingertips digging into her skin. (Y/n) arched her front against his, trembling legs not daring to loosen their hold on his waist, wondering if she was only stuck in a dream, or if Dean was truly fucking her, reminding her that she was his.
And no matter how hard I try, I'll never learn to say goodbye, you say it's okay to cry, baby that river done ran dry
“God, how I missed feeling you, feels so perfect, so fucking perfect.” With his forehead pressed against hers, Dean added more speed to his thrusts, growing rougher as her walls fluttered around him, tensing every now and then. Dean had lost count on the amount of times he had dreamt of feeling her again, of loving her just like he had always promised he would.
“Same, fuck, don’t ever leave me again, Dean.” (Y/n) choked on his name, hand disappearing between their bodies to circle her sensitive bundle of nerves. Both knew that they wouldn’t be able to hold back for much longer, it felt as if they hadn’t been able to let go for months, unable to touch themselves without thinking of one another. But both had tried to make themselves cum for weeks on end, unable to do so, since their minds painted pictures too painful, pictures they could now finally leave behind.
“Where do you want me to cum, sweetheart? Fuck, I won’t be able to hold on for much longer.” Another moan left (y/n) as Dean’s lips found her jaw, kissing their way down her neck. It took her a moment to reply, choking on her breaths, unable to think clear with her thoughts growing hazy.
“Inside of me, please, Dean, fill me up.” She felt his cock twitching inside of her, forcing her to add more pressure on her clit, crying his name as she came. Dean followed her down the edge, eyes rolling back into his head as he came with a “Fuck” leaving him.
Both were heavily breathing, not daring to part with their bodies still joined, just like their jumping hearts. (Y/n) murmured his name as she combed a hand through his hair, eyes finding his, “I love you Dean, no matter what will happen between us, I belong to you, as much as you belong to me.”
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starved
inspired by @groguspicklejar (you are so good at atmosphere omgggg???)
Part two
plot: you're a zombie babe <3 put y'all seatbelts on
CW: depictions of violence, depictions of obsession, gore, eventual self-cannibalism (stay safe besties), blood, gore, eventual smut
banner by: @frostthecupcake (deactivated) and found by using "Find A Banner"
A/N: This is my first time posting a fanfic of mine! Please be gentle with me ;-;
'I am starving...' The words were so familiar to you that you barely registered that they echoed the moment you saw your Captain's exposed wrist.
Captain John Price, a stern and loyal man. He always made you feel safe...he always made you...
Hungry.
You inhaled sharply as you looked up at your Captain, finally registering that he had been calling your name.
"Are you alright, love?" His usual tone had taken one of concern as his eyes stared into your own.
"Ah-" You smiled nervously as you nodded, "Yes, sir, I'm fine. Just...deep in thought, I guess! What were you asking me?"
"I was asking if you had gotten your paperwork done yet. You look exhausted." He stood up straight, crossing his arms over his chest as his raised a brow.
Perhaps your narrator should explain; it started around...
Three months ago...
It was supposed to be a good Ol' typical hostage situation. Get the hostage, get a Medevac if needed, another easy adventure for our favorite Task Force! Right?
Oh, how terribly wrong you were.
Nothing could have prepared you for the moment you were slammed against a wall by the hostage no less!
You had been sent in to grab the scientist! A scientist! Some little nerd working on bioweapons! Surely, they wouldn't be aggressive, right?
The wind was knocked from your lungs as you tried your best to fend off your attacker. His snapping teeth dangerously close to your neck as you forced his head back with one hand, your arm shoving him away by his shoulder.
Why did you have to be so stubborn? Why didn't you just let Soap help you? Why did you INSIST on going in alone?!
Why couldn't you just accept help?!
You couldn't contain your scream as the doctor sunk his teeth into your exposed wrist, the smell of rot and blood immediately clouding your brain and making you dizzy.
The rest of that mission was fuzzy, really...
You don't remember Soap immediately coming to your aid the moment he heard your scream from down the hall.
You don't remember fainting.
You don't remember a lot of that day after the attack...
Back to the current day,
"Y-yeah, yeah- no- uh.." You stumbled over your words as you rubbed your face, "I've just not been sleepin' too well. Sorry, Cap."
A half-lie...you could tell Price didn't buy it either, but what else could you say?
What were you supposed to do? Tell him how you've dreamt of sinking your teeth into his neck the night after catching him walking back from a workout? Tell him how your heart ached when imagining yourself sinking your teeth into your Lieutenant's arm every time he offered your paperwork to you? How it takes everything in your body to stop yourself from licking the blood from Gaz's wounds when he gets a bump or scrape when in the field? Or how the smell of Johnny's sweat makes your head swim with thoughts of ripping his ribs apart with your bare hands?
Obviously, you can't just say that! Wh- who even-? No! Just, no!
So, you lie. You lie and lie and lie until you can't keep track of your lies anymore.
"I think I just need to go to bed...Would that be okay?" You gave your Captain a forced smile that almost felt like a grimace.
He stared with eyes that seemed to look right through you, "...Well, I suppose it couldn't hurt. Go rest up, love. I'm sure I can handle the rest from here."
You sighed in relief, standing up and organizing your papers for a moment before giving your Captain an appreciative nod before you left the room. You could feel his eyes boring into the back of your skull as you walked away, but you didn't falter.
Don't worry, darling, your team has noticed the lies. They've noticed your change in behavior.
And it's only a matter of time until you slip up...
#141 x reader#cod 141#task force 141#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#john price#simon riley x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#kyle gaz x reader#john price x reader#zombie au#zombie reader#141 au#bug sure is snug in this rug
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Nothing Left to Lose
saw this photo on pinterest and got inspired! happy weekend, y'all!
Masterlist
*.*
"Where the hell have you been?"
"Don't—Don't ask me that. Please."
"Why?"
Harry sighed and rubbed a tired hand over his face, wincing when his fingertips came back with blood on them. "Because we promised not to lie to each other, and I don't want to give you an answer you won't like."
"Damn it, Harry!"
Y/n looked like she wanted to hit something, probably him, but he was too far out of reach. Angry tears lined her eyes as she took an anxious drag from the cigarette that dangled between her fingers, but Harry knew better than to go to her. She was pissed, and he needed to let her seethe properly before comforting her.
"I'm sorry—"
"You're not because you keep doing it!" A tear slipped from Y/n's eye, but she quickly wiped it away. "I told you I didn't want any part of this life. You said—You said you wouldn't do this anymore."
"This isn't something you just send your two weeks notice into, Y/n. I can't just say, 'I quit.'"
"Don't try to explain that bullshit to me, Harry!"
That was a wrong choice of words. Sighing, Harry took a chance and stepped closer to Y/n. "I'm trying, Y/n, really. I know it doesn't sound like it, but I am. I just don't...I don't know how to safely get out of this."
"Then let's run away," Y/n said, grabbing onto his hands desperately, neither of them minding the smoke curling between them. Harry's knuckles were split and bruised, dried blood caked around them, though most of it wasn't his, yet she held onto them anyway. Y/n had never been one to shy away from a little blood. "We can go somewhere, anywhere. The world is such a big place Harry. His network doesn't stretch that far. We can—We can forget all of this."
"It's not that easy—"
"He's using you!" she cried. "He's using you to get to me, you have to know that, Harry."
Harry held her face in his hands as he rested his forehead against hers. He knew nothing about the life they shared was easy. From the moment he stumbled into the bar she worked at, battered and bruised and reeking of trouble, he knew. Y/n had known right away that he was one of her father's men, even if the easily recognizable tattoo that curled around his shoulder and up his neck was covered thanks to the hoodie he wore. What she didn't know was that he'd been purposely tasked with keeping an eye on her, a direct order from her father. That little secret came out months after they met, after Harry realized he was falling for Y/n and that he couldn't hide it anymore.
This wasn't what he expected out of life. He'd fallen into the wrong crowd long before he ever should've, and it spiraled into a life he knew he shouldn't have been proud of. But the money was good and if he kept his head down he didn't get into any serious trouble. There were a couple nights where guilt kept him from sleeping, or when he lied awake in a safehouse because someone else fucked up and he had to disappear for a few days. Maybe his line of work wasn't something to be proud of, but he grew up believing he wouldn't amount to anything, and this life, the one he built for himself, was his and his alone.
All that changed when he met Y/n, though.
He'd never met her prior to the job her father had tasked him with. His boss' daughter was elusive at best, but it was well-known that they were estranged. But Y/n's father still considered her his greatest pride and joy, hence sending Harry to keep an eye on her to make sure she was safe. He'd taken the job, mostly because he couldn't really say no to his boss, but also because he thought it would be easy enough, stress free.
Falling in love was never the objective, yet here he was, and it killed him to see his love cry.
"I know," Harry said quietly, maybe even sounding a little defeated.
"I want a life with you, H," Y/n pleaded, resting her hands over his. "I want a long life with you without my father's shadow hanging over our heads. This...this isn't living. We're hiding."
"I know," he said again. "I know, you're right."
"I love you," Y/n said. "So much, H. That's why it freaks me out when you leave and come back like this. I...I hate what he does. He ruins people, Harry."
Part of him believed it was impossible to get out from under her father's thumb, and part of him was scared of leaving everything he'd ever known behind to start over somewhere new. But for Y/n, he was willing to try. A future with her was worth running into unknown territory.
Harry tried for a smile and kissed Y/n's forehead. "If it makes you feel better, I had a terrible night."
"Mm...Maybe a little," she said, a small smile creeping onto her face.
"Is persuading you to kiss it all away off the table?"
Y/n's smile softened into something more somber. "Promise me we'll run away."
Harry looked into Y/n's eyes, saw all the hurt that the cuts and bruises and blood he came home covered in affected her. He wasn't just looking out for himself anymore, Y/n was a part of his life he wasn't willing to give up. She was a non-negotiable, and making her happy had to be his top priority.
"We'll run away," he promised. "Wherever you wanna go, baby. Just you and me."
"Really?" she asked, as if she actually thought Harry wouldn't agree.
"Name a time and place, and we'll go," he said. "I love you, Y/n. I'm in this with you. All of that bullshit means nothing when I have you."
Y/n exhaled, and Harry could practically see a weight lift from her shoulders. Leaning in, she kissed him once, pulling back and giggling a little as she rubbed a thumb gently over the cut on his lip. Pressing one kiss to his cheek, she took his hand and led him down the hall to the bedroom they shared.
"Let's see about getting those cuts cleaned up."
"I've actually got one that needs really special attention—"
"Shut up, Styles!"
Harry just grinned as he took the cigarette from Y/n's offering hand and put it in his mouth, happy to hear the laughter in Y/n's voice. There was light for them at this long, winding tunnel. He believed in it, he wanted it enough to believe in it. Harry had never tried to leave this life behind because it was all he'd ever known, there was no reason to try to build a life outside of the crimes he committed. Y/n should've felt that way too, but she didn't. She wanted more for herself, and for him now too. Harry was willing to give up everything, to risk everything, to make sure he was happy, that he was able to give her the life that she wanted.
And if slipping between the fingers of the most powerful man in the city was what she wanted, then he'd find a way to make it happen.
#harry styles#harry styles au#harry styles blurb#harry styles x reader#harry styles fanfic#harry styles oneshot#harry styles imagine#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x you#harry styles fluff#harry styles writing#harry styles fic#harry styles one shot
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SPOILED!MEGUMI — headcanons
megumi was raised by gojo, he’s bound to be spoiled one way or another
CHAR: megumi fushiguro, satoru gojo
PAIRING(S): megumi fushiguro x gn!reader (can be read as platonic)
A/N: this is a topic that isn’t discussed enough, so I’m writing it and potentially going to elaborate on some more later
i would like to start off by saying i do not intend to paint megumi in a negative light by saying he’s spoiled — but i do intend on putting him in a goofy one
to be honest, megumi isn't that self-aware as he seems
y'all seen that one episode that inspired this post where yuji and nobara freak out over the price of gojo's shirt and question whether it's with tax or not and megumi deadass asks if tax matters? yea interpret that as you will
there is a decent chance that he doesn’t necessarily understand the value of money very well, which probably has something to do with the Gojo effect™️
ngl he probably said ‘print more money’ once and got attacked for it so he never said it again
but he's also so lowkey about it too like you would have never guessed that this boy would be as materialistic as gojo is
like he wears the same shit gojo does that's really expensive quality but doesn't have the brand name plastered onto it since he finds it tacky so you'll just never know unless he exclusively tells you
he also does have a talent of knowing what is good quality and what isn't; he would do great for those cheap vs. expensive videos
can also spot knock-offs from a mile away but never says anything about it since he doesn't have enough in him to care about that kind of stuff
so the first time both of you — including yuji and nobara — hangout at the mall and when you ask what he plans on getting and he just replies with something along the lines of new shoes so just imagine the collective shock between you all when he makes a beeline towards prada
"My boots got ruined last mission so I plan on getting a new pair."
"Okay, what store are you gonna be in so we can find you later?"
"Prada."
"Bitch what the fuck did you just say."
you didn't know what hurt more, megumi not telling any of you about the fact that he was loaded or his absolute nonchalance about the situation
and due to the amount of shock all of you were in, you all followed megumi like little ducklings bcuz his casual nonchalance about it was concerning
he was slightly embarrassed but found it easier to just pretend the rest of you weren't there during his hunt for new boots
it was also quite nerve wracking for you all since yuji only buys things from walmart and though nobara has expensive taste, she knows how to budget while you stay away from all things worth more than rent out of fear of damaging anything and having to pay for it
so it was safe to assume that it looked liked a bunch of kindergarteners in a line following their chaperone during a school field trip — just a lot more quieter and careful which cannot be said for every outing much to megumi’s dismay
megumi didn't take that long before picking out a pair that he liked and began to pay for under three pairs of wide eyes due to the sole fact that he pulled out a black card in order to pay for it
"Don't worry, it's Gojo's."
that statement did not help the situation at all
it also caused the three of you to demand why he isn't spending that money on you all to which his reply is just a deadpan: 'you never asked.'
i feel like this also extends to his taste in food as well
like when you suggest to head to the food court in the mall since yuji was getting hungry; this man has the audacity to disaprove since he doesn't like the taste
now that reasoning isn't the problem, the problem is that he suggests to eat at some expensive ass place an hour away because he was craving it and it was one of the only places gojo introduced to him as a kid which he actually liked
though he was forced to toss the idea aside due to the fact that there was no way you all could split the bill that way and you all weren’t that patient enough to walk an hour all the way to a restaurant you couldn’t even afford
it’s not that megumi didn’t offer to pay, he did, nobara just didn’t like the feeling of having to owe someone
that is until Gojo stumbles across his students and decides to get them food at the same exact place megumi suggested
A/N: writing this made me hungry
#rin’s headcanon’s 🌷#spoiled!megumi#megumi x reader#megumi x you#megumi x y/n#megumi x gn!reader#megumi x gn reader#megumi x gender neutral reader#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jjk x gender neutral reader#megumi fushiguro x reader#megumi fushiguro x you#megumi fushiguro x gn reader#megumi fluff#jjk fanfic
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Cowboy Ghost x Fem Reader
Everyone thank @ghostslillady, she might not know it (yet) but one of her posts inspired this 😈🥴 and please tell me y'all know the cowboy hat rule (if u take it off u have to RIDE the COWBOY yeehawwww 🤠) this is so silly but it's gonna be so GOOD (i hope hehe) i waited for someone to do this but i was just like 😏i'll write it myself
WC: 2.3k~
It was a late night at the bar, you and your friend rewarded yourselves with some cold drinks after a day's worth of work. You dressed up a bit for your outing, happy with yourself. A few drinks in and you two were tipsy, dancing and singing along to the country songs playing.
Time was going by fast, your cheeks starting to cramp from how much you had laughed and smiled. Your smile faded though when the crowd went silent, a masked man wearing a dark cowboy outfit walked in through the double swinging doors straight to the bar. He didn't pay attention to all of the eyes on him, though he met yours in a split second before he ordered his drink.
The crowd calmed down and went back to their party, so you and your friend continued on as well, slinging back your drinks finishing them off. You slam your cup down and close your eyes as you reach that euphoric, drunken haze you missed. Your friend then dragged you to the karaoke stage, inviting you to sing but you were hesitant to do it in front of everyone.
"Come on!" she pushed with a playful grin on her face.
You shook your head, trying to get out of her grip and you finally slipped out of it before you bumped into... him.
"Oh, uh, sorry," you muttered, looking him in the eye while you stammered with your words.
"Quite a'right," he nodded, fixing his cowboy hat. "Y'come here often?"
You shook your head 'no', feeling slightly awkward. You didn't take him for much of the talking type, him striking up a conversation was a surprise. "Only on weekends!" you laughed.
"I see," he responded, lifting his mask for a moment while he drank the rest of his bottle of whiskey. You politely looked away, not daring to do anything to piss him off. He cleared his throat before he held his hand out to you. "Name's Ghost."
"Y/N," your small hand grabs his, and he shakes it softly before letting it go, letting your hand slowly fall out of his, cherishing the way your hand barely took up any room compared to his large one.
"Pretty name for a pretty lady," you saw his eyes crinkle, knowing he was smiling behind that mask. You blush and cover your face shyly. "Oh, don't do that now, little lady. Let me see that pretty face."
Once again, your cheeks cramp up. He's got you smiling ear to ear, your eyes shine brightly under the low party lights.
"Wanna go somewhere a little more private, darlin'?" he asked, tilting his head as he stood straight up, towering over you.
A smirk crawls up your lips as you look at your distracted friend, knocking down a few more shots before you took his arm and walked with him towards the outside of the bar.
He leans against the wall and lights up a cigarette, leaving his pack open as he offers one. You oblige, placing the cigarette between your lips. You keep eye contact as he lights it for you, your cheeks still flush red even though it was dark outside.
He sighed a few times, before you guys came up with a playful conversation. Somewhere in the middle of it, you took off his cowboy hat and put in on, proudly smiling as you wore it. His body rumbled as he chuckled lowly, crossing his arms against his chest.
You took the last few puffs off your smoke, before putting it out, playfully blowing the smoke in his face. He leaned closer to you and whispered, "You know what you just did, yeah?"
Your eyes widen, thinking you had pissed him off. Your lips stammer as you gulped. "N-no... I'm sorry..."
He flicked the hat that was still on your head as his head tilted, his voice become lower. "You take it off... you ride the cowboy. That's the rule. Your place or mine, doll?"
Oh. Oh.
A smirk was on your lips again, you blushed once more while you thought about it, biting your lip teasingly. "Mine."
You gave him your address as he led you to his motorcycle. He fixed his sunglasses on top of his mask, taking his hat back before putting your helmet on for you. The engine roared as he started it and sat down, patting the back seat as you hopped on, wrapping your arms around his toned torso.
As you finally arrive in your driveway, you hop off, removing the helmet, handing it to him as he placed it on the handlebar of his bike, gesturing for you to lead the way. You can't believe this was happening. You meet some random cowboy and here you were leading him to your bed, leaving your friend behind.
You open the door, letting him enter first as you close and lock the door behind you. You smile up at him, barely entering your house before he removed the hard plastic part of his mask, tossing it on the ground as he lifted up the fabric just above his nose. He grabbed your waist and kissed you, nipping at your bottom lip before his tongue begged for entrance. You allowed him in and your tongues swirled together as his grunts vibrated against your mouth, his hands wandering, becoming needier as they grabbed at every part of your body.
Your hands wrapped around the back of his neck for leverage before he cupped under your ass, lifting you up against the wall. The kiss only broke when he asked where your room was.
"Left. Second door," you panted, your lids now heavy with desire. You leaned down, kissing and sucking on the exposed skin of his neck earning a deep groan from him. His Adam apple bobbed as you bit the skin gently before soothing it with a cool kiss. He laid you on your back at the edge of the bed, he grabbed both sides of your face as he kissed you roughly. He pushed himself between your legs that wrapped around his waist.
"Fuckin' hell, so pretty," he muttered as he kissed and sucked down your neck to your collarbone. He didn't give a shit about your shirt, quickly bringing out a knife and slicing it clean off in the middle as he pushed it off of you. Clearly in the heat of the moment you didn't care either as you helped him remove it, reaching behind you as you unclip your bra, letting your tits bounce free. "Oh, fuck."
He growled as one hand grabbed a fistful of your breast, his mouth sucking harshly on your other. He wrapped his lips around your nipple and rolled it in between his teeth, earning a sweet little yelp from you as your back arched. His free hand caressed your curves, rubbing over the small of your back as it bowed up.
"Fuck, Ghost," you panted, tilting your head forward, meeting his dark eyes as he kissed down your naval, unbuttoning your pants impatiently. He bit at your hipbone as it was exposed while you were now pants-free.
"Perfect fuckin' figure," he praised, his eyes taking in the sight before him as he kissed and nipped at your inner thighs, making quick work of removing your panties. Your hands grasped at anything possible, soon finding his hands that held yours tightly, his veins popping as he held you still. His kisses trail lower, and lower. You gasp out, watching his every move with intense eye contact. He chuckled as he licked a circle around your puffy lips, testing you. You moaned out as he teased you again, licking your clit one time, testing your reaction. He hummed in pleasure before licking a fat stripe up your hole to your clit, flattening his tongue as he pushed his head into you as deep as he could.
"Oh my god, yes," you mewled for him, your grip on his hands tightening.
He cherished your scent, your taste, your reactions as his tongue worked magic into your cunt. He wagged his head like a dog, causing your legs to shake at the feeling, feeling that knot tighten in your stomach as you couldn't help leaning up, almost trying to run away, but he reenforced his grip, unrelenting as he moaned into your pussy.
The knot snapped, your eyes snap shut as your body convulses in pleasure, your spend leaking and shining the sides of his face. He didn't waste a drop as he lapped it all up eagerly before sitting up, a proud smile across his face as you caught your breath.
"Good girl."
Your hands reached out to him, and he helped sit you up. He tapped his belt, and you quickly got to work undoing it, pulling his pants down his thick thighs. You bite your lip as you see his hardened cock strained by his boxers. His pants fall with a thump to the floor as he then sits down on the bed, letting his legs sprawl out, which you crawl in between on your knees.
He folded his arms behind his head, letting you do your thing. You run your palm across his length, looking up at him with a sultry look on your face as you grab the hem of his boxers, freeing his cock of the restraint. It bounces up and hits his abdomen with a sharp slap, before your hand wraps around it and you hold your tongue out. Bringing the tip up to your tongue, you swirl slowly around it, testing the sweet saltiness and letting spit drool down along his length.
"Fuck," he moaned, bucking his hips into your face. You laugh lowly before you take it into your mouth, slowly bobbing down as you hollow your cheeks. The wet warmth of your mouth wrapping tightly around his cock caused his fists to clench, one coming down to hold a makeshift pony of your hair.
You looked up at him through your teary eyes as you took as much as you can. His hand grabbed your jaw and held it there. "Fuckin' hell, luv, right fuckin' there."
You moaned against his cock, his cock bucking up further caused you to gag, the tear finally falling out of your eye. He pulled you off of his dick as he sighed out in pleasure, watching the drool spill out of your lips before you grinned. "Good fuckin' slut."
You crawled up his body, settling your legs on either side before you grabbed his cock, letting the tip meet your entrance, gathering slick. He held onto your waist as you adjusted yourself, ready to sink all the way down. You gasped as you sank down slowly, not used to his girth or size.
"Shit, such a big fucking cock," you moan out. He replies with a deep chuckle, looking up at you with desire, watching your naked body shine under the moonlight creeping through the slit of the curtains.
He helps you with a quick thrust, now all the way inside of you. Your hands gripped his chest as you hissed. "Ah, shit...." you giggled, finally somewhat adjusting as you started bouncing up and down at a steady pace. Holy fucking shit, it was bulging out of your abdomen.
"Atta girl..." he purred, his grip on your hip tightening. The other hand rested behind his head once more, enjoying the show. "Feels good, huh?"
You nod as you bounced faster, leaning back with your hands on his thighs. The sounds of your ass slapping on his skin along with your moans echoed off the walls. Your tits bounced in rhythm to your pace as his hand trailed up, cupping them softly as he soothed up and down your body before settling between your thighs, his thumb rubbing tight, firm circles on your clit that made your legs threaten to close right then and there.
"Like ridin' my cock, doll?" he chuckled.
"Fuck, yes!"
He met your hips with small thrusts, furthering your pleasure as you were about to come undone once more. Your cunt clenched impossibly tighter on his cock as your orgasm was about to wash over you. Your vision was hazy, all you saw behind your closed eyes was colorful stars as he coaxed that orgasm out of you, breathy pants and grunts as he held himself back from erupting at your pleasure.
"Cum for me, that's it," he gritted through his teeth, thrusting harder up into you as you screamed out, nails scratching down his chest, both of your bodies tensed up.
"I'm cumming! I'm cumming, fuck, fuck, fuck!" you chanted in your ecstasy.
"Shit, I can't... Fuck..." he groaned out, emptying his spend inside of you as his cock twitched inside of you. "Fuck, couldn't hold back."
You gasped in all the air you could, meeting his still lust-filled gaze looking up at you. "It's okay... I'm on the pill," you laugh.
He chuckled, rubbing softly up your back as he pulled you down into a gentle hug. "Wanna do that more often, little lady?"
That was definitely the best lay of your life. No way you're letting him go.
You laugh into his neck as you shake your head. "Yeah... definitely."
Your phone vibrates on the floor and you lazily get up, his soft cock falling out of you, mixtures of both your arousal seeping out of you.
Your friend: Hey
Your friend: Are you okay?!
Your friend: Y/N! Answer me!
You: I'm fine, sorry. I got a ride home. Did you make it home safe?
Your friend: Yes! I was worried sick about you! 10 more minutes and I would have called the cops! What happened?
You: I'll tell you later, okay? Glad you're okay <3
"Everythin' a'right, doll?" Ghost asked.
"Yeah, friend I went with was worried about me. Told her I'm okay," you smiled, heat rising over your cheeks again as you thought about how all of this happened. "Care for a shower, cowboy?"
"Sure thing, sweetheart," he chuckled.
--
Hehehe cowboy Ghost 🥰😍
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