#i want him on my blog he inspires me. NO PROBLEM!!!

[bumbleblurr]

oh no I'm out of b1urr posts to spam rb and torment my followers on main with

#well Actually maybe if i looked through some old blogs i could find stuff but i. dont want to #the psychic damage i get whenever i have to look through them and see shit tier b1urr content including #1) b1urr being characterized as ''feminine'' so that he fits in the role as the ''girl'' #(often done specifically for sh0ckb1urr but ive seen it for other ships too) #2) b1urr literally being abused and this is treated as cute or romantic #3) b1urr being extra flirtatious and/or mean as a way to overcompensate #for the popular depiction of sh0ckb1urr that caused the previous problem listed #4) general misunderstanding of his character (making him a social butterfly and stuff like that) #5) general objectifying of b1urr (this tiea heavily with the first issue #and i dont even want to unpack the Mess that is in terms of how feminity is presented as well as gay ppl in weird gay fandom shipping bs #bc this is NOT an exclusive problem to fanon b1urr content but he's unfortunately a great example of it) #and its like. Oh Boy is it Hard to find b1urr content that doesnt fall into any of those descriptions #its just. pounding my head against the wall #this is why i dont look through the tags as much these days 💔 #i just get met with disappointment bc this is #to my detriment #the standard depiction of b1urr in this fandom :////// #anyway this was just sparked by seeing b1urr buttcheeks for the thousandth time. it broke me #maybe this might inspire me to make blurr content again. spite and desperation #🐝 could you repeat the last part? 🟦

[marvelouslizzie]

Same Lonely Night

summary: Your roommate Bucky Barnes hears you pleasure yourself and moan something he never thought he would be into. That forces him to face his feelings for you.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

word count: 2.6K

warnings: 18+, masturbation, fantasies, daddy kink, no mention of y/n

A/N: This is the second part of A Lonely Night. This time we are seeing Bucky's POV and what comes next. You don't have to read that part to understand what's going on but if you want to, you can find it on my blog/masterlist. I planned this as a 3-part story and I hope I'll maintain my inspiration and motivation to write the last part. Wish me luck!

Thank you so much @notafunkiller for beta-reading and editing. You are the best!

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.

Read more tag starts after the second paragraph of the story.

Bucky’s head is resting on the shower wall while the water is running down. His flesh hand is still wrapped around his cock, but he doesn’t move it. Taking a couple of deep breaths, he’s trying to calm himself down. 

He really had no intention to listen to you. He was just watching the news mindlessly, but his enhanced hearing turned into a curse the moment he heard you taking a sharp breath. He couldn’t help but focus on the noises you made. That’s when he started to hear the way you were touching yourself. Every stroke, every rub, every muffled moan… 

He knew what you were doing was private and he had no right listening to it, but he couldn’t stop. He just couldn’t. How could he? You were so needy and subby. Even in your fantasy, you were begging. He wondered what you were imagining. Who were you begging? Your crush? Maybe you have been seeing someone.

That thought had never occurred to him before. You were always in your element, working, chilling at home, doing whatever you enjoyed in your spare time, and occasionally going out with your friends. You never brought someone home. Not yet at least. So he never questioned if you were seeing someone or not. Even if there was someone, he wouldn’t know, and that thought suddenly hurts him.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck.” Your moans bring him back to reality. If you are seeing someone why are you so needy? Are you just that greedy or has it been that long? He’s certainly hoping for the latter. That’s something he can relate to, and it's probably been much longer for him. That’s why he can’t stop listening. That’s why his cock is painfully hard. Normally he would just remove himself from the house, and give you some space instead of creeping like this.

“Oh please, fuck me.” He would do anything to be able to do that. Anything. Just to be in that room with you, taking his time exploring your body and satisfying your needs. Even just the thought of it drives him crazy. “Fuck me, daddy, please.” 

That surprises him on so many levels. He never thought you would be into that. You look pretty innocent. He wouldn’t assume you would have such dirty fantasies. Fucking an old man… Are you into older men or is it just a little fantasy you are playing? Maybe you are seeing someone old. Maybe that’s why your mind goes there. He doesn’t know. He has no idea what’s going on in your private life, and every word that comes out of your mouth confuses him even more. It creates more problems, but the biggest one is, when he heard daddy, his dick twitched with excitement. So it makes him question himself, too. Is he into younger women or is it because you were the one saying it? The latter somehow seems more likely. Yet all of that doesn’t change the fact that he’s listening to you and getting hard just because of it. 

“Yes, yes, yes. Right there.” He hears how your head falls onto the pillow while your whole body is shaking, and how much you are enjoying it. He knows this is his cue. He should just remove himself from the living room so he won’t get caught with a hard-on. He doesn’t miss a beat. Quickly, he turns the TV off and runs to the bathroom. 

That’s how he ended up here, head pressed against the cold shower tiles, thinking about the way you said daddy over and over again. He is trying really hard not to give in, but his cock is aching with need. A part of him thinks he should just give in. It’s not such a big deal. Everyone masturbates. You just did. Three fucking times! That thought makes him groan. If you can come three times just by masturbating,how many times could he make you come? 

So it’s not even a conscious decision when he starts to stroke himself when he starts thinking about making you come. He can’t stop himself from imagining how you would look under him or on top of him. It doesn’t matter which position. He just wants to feel you. Your moans are echoing in his head while he caresses the top of cock. Just one stroke and it makes him tremble. He can’t remember the last time he felt this turned on. He can’t remember the last time his whole body heated up like this, just at the thought of someone. But you aren’t just anybody. You are you.

Maybe it’s because it has been ages since he had sex. Perhaps it’s because of his growing crush on you. He tried to control those feelings, thinking he was too old for you. He thought you would never look in his direction. Why would you? You are intelligent, beautiful and so cute. Like all these qualities aren’t enough, you are always so thoughtful. You always ask if he wants your leftovers, or if he needs help with anything. He knows he wakes you up at night sometimes. His nightmares are loud, but you never complained. Not once. You always let him watch the news even though you would rather watch something else. You even lent some books to him. They were in such good condition he couldn't believe his eyes. It was like reading a brand-new book. So yeah, he really tried to act like it was nothing but a silly crush, but after hearing the way you moan daddy he can’t stop himself anymore. It was as if you awakened something inside him.

He doesn’t know what to do. Should he take his time or just get over with it? He keeps his fingers loose, stroking himself up and down slowly while his head still rests on the tiles. Even with minimal effort, it feels so good. He gently cups his balls, massaging them and imagining you are the one doing it. You are the one touching the most intimate parts of his body. You are the one ready to satisfy his growing need.

“Oh fuck.” A moan escapes his lips. The shower is running and you don’t have a super hearing like him, so he knows he’s safe. Still, it feels like it’s something he shouldn’t be doing. He shouldn’t be touching himself. He shouldn’t be moaning like this, yet you are so beautiful and needy… He already wanted you before hearing how you sound in bed, but now he wants you even more. He wants to be the one to bring you pleasure. He wants to be the one that satisfies all your needs so much that you would never need to touch yourself. Unless it’s to tease him.

He’s feeling guilty. So fucking guilty, but there’s no way he could stop now. Imagining you does something to him. There’s this primal need in his abdomen, building up.

His fingers tighten around his cock, moving faster than before, and he presses his lips together, trying not to make a sound. He keeps rubbing on that one sensitive part of his cock and finally, he starts coming with a choke. He keeps stroking himself, thinking it will be over soon, but it doesn’t end. There’s so much come that it surprises him. His hands continue pumping and his come paints the bathroom tiles immediately. He takes a deep breath when he’s done, trying to collect himself.

It feels like his head is spinning. He had been masturbating for quite some time, but he doesn’t remember the last time it felt this good. He opens his eyes, trying to ground himself, and all that shame he feels comes rushing in while looking at the mess he made. He groans loudly and then reaches for the showerhead. It doesn’t take long for him to clean the shower and then himself with the thought of you is still on the back of his mind. He is soaping himself, scrubbing, and then rinsing while trying to convince himself that it isn’t a big deal. It’s just masturbation. It’s normal.

Of course, he knows how normal it is. It’s like breathing, eating, or drinking water. His body needs it so he gave in, but listening to you and touching himself while thinking about you… That’s where he crossed the line. He knows it, yet he can’t bring himself to wish he never heard you. He might be a creep or a pervert, it doesn’t matter. Your voice, the way you sound while coming, and the way you touch yourself are stacked in his memory forever. It’s something no one can take away from him.

Sighing, he steps out of the shower. Drying himself doesn’t take too long. When he steps into the living room, all that welcomes him is silence. You are still in your bedroom, God knows doing what. The TV is off, and nothing seems to have moved since he ran to the bathroom. So he’s safe. You haven’t heard or suspected anything.

Quietly, he goes back to his room, finds something to put on and just looks in the mirror. Is he really too old for you or is that all in his mind? He doesn’t look older than 35, but that doesn’t change when he was born.

What if you are into that, though? What if you really like older guys? That would change everything, wouldn’t it? You would like that he’s older than you. Maybe you would even call him daddy, just like you did in your fantasy. That thought makes the blood rush back to his cock, making him feel the arousal running through his veins once again. Like he didn’t masturbate in the shower a couple of minutes ago. 

He knows his anatomy by now. He knows he’s able to get hard again pretty quickly thanks to the super soldier serum, but he hasn’t been this horny for a long time. Especially not because of the thought of someone, but the thought of you calling him daddy… 

Jesus… It makes him so hard!

Sighing, he drops his whole weight on the bed and closes his eyes, fighting the urge to touch himself again. It’s for the best if he stops thinking about you and focuses on something else, isn’t it? He tries to think of something, anything that could take his mind off of you, but nothing, absolutely nothing is more interesting. Nothing he tries to focus on lasts. His mind goes running back to you, imagining how you would look the moment he would push himself inside you. How your mouth would open, how you would throw your head back, and how wonderful it would feel.

That thought does it. It breaks his resistance. All the effort he put into not touching himself again goes out of the window, especially once he imagines you saying “Harder, please, daddy, I need it harder.” His hand goes under his boxers, slowly toying with his cock. It feels like he didn’t touch himself today, and the need is even stronger now. After a couple of strokes, he realizes he can’t move his hand properly like this, so he pushes down his shorts and boxers at the same, creating some space for movement. 

He looks down at his cock, already oozing with precum. His flesh hand moves on top of the head and smears it all the way down, making it easier for him to play with himself. He sets a steady rhythm, testing what feels right, but his precum isn’t enough to make it enjoyable. That’s when he reaches for his nightstand and takes out the bottle of lube. His metal hand works fast, opening the bottle and putting a generous amount on hisnhand, before he puts it back and starts to touch himself. 

Now it feels much better. His hand works seamlessly from the top to the bottom, repeating the same movement a couple of times. He tries to get lost in his fantasies but something feels off. He isn’t sure what it is because what he’s doing is enjoyable. Something is not enough. Maybe he should work faster. So that’s what he tries. His hand starts to move faster on his cock, but that’s not helping. 

He’s pretty sure this is what his body wants especially because he’s still rock hard. Should he be more gentle and take his sweet time? That doesn’t seem to work, either. Does he need a tighter grip? Maybe, but he can’t do more with his flesh hand. He glances at his metal hand for the first time since he started. He never used it to pleasure himself before. The flesh looked and seemed more appealing than metal, yet right now it’s not enough.

There’s a first time for everything.

He reaches for the lube once again. This time he uses his flesh hand and pours some on his metal one as he tries to convince himself that this is not a bad idea.

He goes right back into touching himself, just with his metal hand this time. It feels different, really different, and surprisingly okay. It doesn’t feel as warm. The texture is completely different yet it somehow works. His fingers start to work faster, his thumb brushing over the head and, thanks to the lube, it starts to feel much better than he ever expected. His reluctance slowly fades away and he decides to test how fast he can move his metal hand and how much his cock can actually take it. As he paces up, pleasure starts to build so unexpectedly. He takes a deep breath but keeps moving his hand. His head is now thrown back while with the flesh hand, he cups his balls, gently massaging them.

“Oh god…”

He doesn’t realize that he's just said that out loud. He just keeps working on himself, letting his whole body relax under that pleasure. He really didn’t intend to focus on you this time, but here you are again, in his mind. The image of you on top of him… You with all your charm and cuteness, touching him, making him feel this good while he takes your nipples into his mouth and sucks them until you can’t take it anymore. It drives you crazy, so you beg him to fuck you. Just like you begged while touching yourself.

“Please, please, please… I really need it, please…”

He can hear it so clearly like you are here and really begging him. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do to make that really happen.

“Anything you want, doll.”

His fingers move like they have a mind of their own. He knows he should slow down a little, make this one last a bit longer because it feels amazing, but his metal hand isn’t listening to him.

“Oh fuck, fuck.” 

He knows he’s about to come. He can feel it. It’s right there, just a few strokes away. He loses his damn mind imagining you under him, split open, and getting railed by him. God, that would feel so fucking good! You looking at him with those big beautiful eyes and begging him for more… Then your name slips out of his lips like it’s the most natural thing to say at that moment. 

Right when he’s about to come, a loud noise comes from the living room. Like something has just got shattered into pieces. His eyes fly open. He grabs his shorts and puts them on quickly, tucking his freaking erection away, and opens his door to see you standing there with an oversized T-shirt on. The glass you were probably holding is on the ground, but you don’t seem to care about that. You are looking at him with wide eyes and an open mouth.

Shit! She heard me.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #sebastian stan #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x f!reader #avengers smut #roommate!bucky barnes #my stories

[lilacnini]

CALL ME YOURS !! (LHS - 이희승)

SYNOPSIS: ever since you broke up with your ex, choi jiho, who cheated on you with another girl, you have always wanted to get revenge. when you meet jiho again at school, to prove you were over him and had met a better man, you told him you were meeting someone. you lied and told him you were meeting a random guy who you pointed at on your school's bulletin board for being the top student in the whole school. coincidentally, that guy was lee heeseung, known for his quiet and smart personality. then jiho demands to meet him in real life, hand-in-hand with you, which now you have a huge problem. first, you have to find heeseung, and next, you have to date him.

pairing: topstudent!heeseung x popularstudentfem!reader

genre: fake dating, s2l, romance, high school au, sunshine x cold

warning(s): reader + heeseung being in denial, your ex cheated, kissing, inspired by a k-drama (i forgot which one), two of them being awfully awkward at first, swearing, grammar errors, party, lots of love confusions, does say that winter is dating beomgyu, punching, fighting

word count: 7k

AN: guys im back with a long au, i never really write long aus, so this is slightly new to me. i did proofread it but not super thoroughly so if i made any mistakes, my bad for that .

taglist: @yenqa @mylstserenade @jlheon @naespas @jooniesbears-blog @erehkinnie30 @wonifullove @miumiuisme @shawnyle @dimplewonie @beomluvrr @jiaant11 @teddywonss

ALL YOU WANTED WAS REVENGE. Sweet revenge against your idiotic ex, Choi Jiho.You remember the moment you walked into the girls locker room to go deliver something to your PE coach, only to find the room “empty”. It hit you like a ton of bricks when you stumbled upon Jiho, locking lips with your “supposed” best friend, Kim Haeun, in the girl’s locker room Lip on lip, eyes closed, moving in sync. Heart shattered, tears streaming, you bolted, tripping over a basket of equipment and scraping your knees quickly catching attention of Jiho. His voice trailed after you, calling your name as you fled into the distance.

Losing both your best friend and your boyfriend cut deep. Being single was one thing, but being unable to find anyone who measured up to Jiho was another.

"YN, your standards for men are too high!" Karina remarked from the bleachers during PE.

You shrugged. "They've always been high." For the past 4 months, no one was your type compared to Jiho, the perfect boyfriend in your eyes: tall, handsome, a football player, rich, and occasionally nice.

"It's because of that disgusting asshole," Ningning scoffed.

"He isn't disgusting!" you retorted.

"YN, you need to get over him. This is just becoming toxic, plus you dumped him in front of the whole school ," Giselle chimed in. She was right. You vividly recalled the moment, twenty minutes before the bell, eyes swollen from crying all night but disguised behind makeup, replaying yesterday's scene you witnessed in your mind.

"YN!" Jiho's voice snapped you back to reality, his figure rushing towards you.

"Can we talk?" he asked, breathless.

"Talk about how you fucking cheated on me? Fine, I'll hear you out," you yelled, drawing everyone's attention.

"Can you keep it down, YN?" Jiho snapped.

"Sure I’ll quiet it down when I want to. Go to your girlfriend, Haeun. Why does she have to be my best friend, out of all people?" you glared.

"YN, let's talk inside," Jiho groaned, irritated.

"No, we're done. I never wanted you anyway, you asshole. Just fuck off," you spat, the words stinging even as they left your mouth The next thing you knew the scene spreaded like wildfire at school.

"Are you okay?" Minjeong asked as you sobbed at the lunch table.

"Listen, YN, Jiho wasn't worth it. You saw what you saw," Karina tried to console.

"I don't know... it's just over now," you murmured, head in your hands.

"Maybe it's a sign to find someone better," Ningning suggested.

"I don't know..." you whispered, feeling lost, unable to move on.

“I’m for sure there’s someone way better than him.” Giselle added (biggest lie you ever heard).

MONTHS PASSED AND YOU FOUND YOURSELF IN THE LIBRARY, lending a hand to the librarian in organizing books before school started. As you went about your duties, dropping off books and preparing to fetch more, the one and only, Jiho, stood by the school bulletin board waiting for you. It had been months since the breakup, and yet, the wound was still fresh, a constant reminder of the pain (really yn..)

"I wanted to say a word," Jiho awkwardly mumbled, eyeing you for a reaction, his hands in his pockets.

You reluctantly agreed, "Fine, make it quick. I'm busy."

"I broke up with Haeun," he stated, the words hanging in the air.

"What?" Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. 

"I ended things with Kim Haeun," he said more firmly. His words sank in, but confusion lingered. But why was he telling you this now? Then it hit you—he wanted you back. Yet, on a day when you missed him, you suddenly felt nothing. He had left you for another girl (well, technically, you dumped him), betrayed you, and now he came back because you were his second choice?

"Why are you telling me this?" You managed to maintain calm.

"I still like you, YN LN," he confessed, causing your eyes to widen. You bit your lip, before you could accept his confession like your 5 minute ago self would. Your heart didn’t thump like it did when you were around him. Your hands weren’t sweaty like they were when he looked at you before. Your mind wasn’t racing like it was when Jiho confessed to you for the first time, months ago. It was nothing like any of that–you just felt empty and cold.

"I'm seeing someone," you blurted out, realizing the lie you had just said. Crossing your fingers, you hoped he wouldn't ask about the identity of your "so-said boyfriend"

"Who?" he inquired, raising his eyebrow. Desperately searching for an excuse, your eyes landed on the bulletin board, displaying a list of top students and their ID photos.

Rushing over, you pointed at the first photo and name you saw, "That guy," you said, reading his name, "...Lee Heeseung! I'm dating him."

"Oh, really?" Jiho cast a skeptical glance between you and the photo, a smirk playing on his lips. "Then," he leaned in closer, "how about you introduce me to him, hand-in-hand, next week? I want to see if he's worthy of you." Panic rushed in you, and your throat went dry. You forced a smile and nodded in reluctant agreement.

"Sure," you replied.

"Great, see you next week," Jiho said, turning and walking away. You were officially doomed. Now, you have to find this Lee Heeseung and give him a deal.

YOU WANDERED DURING LUNCH, TRYING TO FIND HEESEUNG. You only heard about him because he got a perfect score on the hardest SAT exams, but you didn't really pay attention.

"Heeseung? Sorry, I don’t know who he is," a girl replied when you asked her about Heeseung.

"It's okay," you smiled politely and left, feeling frustrated.

"I'll never find him," you groaned to Karina, who was with you while you asked everyone about Heeseung.

"Why did you lie to Jiho then? I thought you weren’t over him. Last night, you were giggling at how cute Jiho is and how much you want him back," Karina asked, taking a bite of her apple.

"I don’t know. He was just using me. I knew it because he and Haeun broke up," you explained, letting out a soft sigh. "He saw me as a second option, and I got into this mess because I lied to him about having a boyfriend who's probably some ugly nerd."

"I told you he was using you the entire time! But you didn’t trust me!" Karina scolded you.

"Sorry, I was just blind back then," you mumbled.

Before your last attempt, you walked up to a boy and asked the same question you’d been asking everyone.

"Do you know Lee Heeseung by any chance?" you asked. The boy's eyes widened, and a big grin spread across his face.

"Yes, I do! For what reason?" the boy quickly replied. For the first time, someone knew who he was.

"Do you know where he is then?" you inquired, hoping he could help.

"I do. I’m close friends with him. Come, I’ll show you where he is," the boy replied as you followed him, waving to Karina goodbye.

As the two of you awkwardly made up the long staircase, you arrived at the rooftop of the school. When the boy opened the door, a lonely figure sat by the table, reading a book.

"Heeseung!" the boy called out, causing the figure, supposedly Heeseung, to turn around.

"What, Jungwon?" Heeseung raised his eyebrow, quickly glancing at you and then back at Jungwon.

"YN was looking for you," Jungwon quickly said, nudging you to speak. Heeseung obviously knew who you were, known for dating Jiho and your soft-delicate visuals.

You walked towards him awkwardly, “Uhm…can we talk privately?” Slightly glancing at Jungwon, signaling him to leave quietly. As Jungwon left quietly, you cleared your throat.

“So…” you started off a bit nervous, “I need some help?”

"What help?" Heeseung answered a bit coldly, “If it’s anything studying related, I’m not interested-”

"I need help dating," you blurted, realizing what you had just said.

"What?" Heeseung gave you a puzzled look, "Dating what?"

"I lied to Jiho. Okay, I don’t have interest in you or even Jiho. I lied to him saying that I’m meeting you," you spilled the news. Heeseung had an empty look on his face as you tried to read his expression.

“Why me?” Heeseung arched his eyebrow.

“You were the first name I saw,” you explained, “So can you fake date me? I need it, please,” you pleaded, hoping he would accept your request.

"No, I’m not interested," he turned around, quickly getting his book to start reading again. Your jaw dropped, no one had ever rejected you like that.

"What?" you spat, feeling terrible that you got rejected for the first time.

"I’m not interested in you or in dating. So, I strongly believe that I shouldn’t do it," he said, quickly focusing his attention on his book.

“I’ll do anything!” you begged, feeling desperate.

"Anything?" Heeseung quickly averted his attention to you, dropping his book slightly to make eye contact with you.

"Yes, anything. I’ll do anything," you replied, hoping he would accept it.

"Then introduce me to her," Heeseung answered. You looked confused.

"Who's her?" you raised your eyebrow.

Heeseung’s cheek slightly blushed, it was the first time you saw him so embarrassed. “Karina,” he mumbled under his breath. Suddenly it clicked—he was interested in Karina, your best friend.

You gave an eager look, “Deal! I’ll introduce you to her after all of the fake dating.” You pulled out your hand.

"Deal," Heeseung replied, shaking your hand.

A  FEW DAYS LATER, YOU FIND YOURSELF in the convenience store, an unexpected place for someone like you—a popular girl to be at. Your outfit was simpler than usual, baggy gray sweats and a white tank top, with your hair thrown up in a messy high ponytail and an oversized jacket completing the look.

You scan the snack aisle, contemplating your choices, when the doorbell chimes, signaling a customer had entered. Your heart thumps as you recognize the last person you expected to encounter—Heeseung. He's dressed in simple gray sweatpants and a black hoodie, his messy hair somehow adding to his charm.

Your eyes lock momentarily before you both awkwardly shuffle towards each other. "What brings you here?" you ask, surprised to find him in a convenience store at 2 am.

"Why are you up so late?" he counters, swiftly turning the interrogation on you.

"I couldn't sleep. What's your excuse?" you reply.

"Studying," he responds matter-of-factly, grabbing an energy drink before swiftly checking out and leaving. You hurry after him, catching up as he strides down the street.

"Studying late? That's a first," you mutter to yourself, gazing up at the night sky.

"I don’t want to flunk my classes, unlike you," he retorts, avoiding your gaze.

"I'm not that hopeless," you roll your eyes.

"Yeah, you are," he quips, taking a sip of his drink.

"Hey!" you playfully threaten, pulling back your arm as if to hit him. But then something unexpected happens—you catch sight of Heeseung's smile, genuine and endearing. You quickly shake off any wayward thoughts; after all, you're just his so-called “girlfriend”.

"Where do you live?" you inquire, trying to change the subject.

"Stalker much?" Heeseung teases.

"Shut up," you retort, rolling your eyes.

"I live in the house near the college," he answers, disposing of his empty can.

"Do you walk to school?" you ask, trying to prolong the conversation.

"Yeah," he replies.

"Then... do you want to walk together tomorrow?" you suggest, stopping in the quiet and empty streets.

"Walk together?" he repeats, surprised.

You nod and quickly add, "Yeah, you know, for you know..."

Heeseung considers for a moment before agreeing, "Sure."

"Great! I'll come by your place at 7 am since school starts at 7:30!" you smile, remembering to ask for his number. He inserts it into your phone, adding, "Don't blow up my phone."

"I'm not that obsessed with you," you retort.

"I think you are," he jokes.

"In your dreams," you shoot back.

YOU FOUND YOURSELF STANDING OUTSIDE Heeseung's door, feeling an awkward knot tighten in your stomach as you waited, fingers fidgeting nervously. After what seemed like hours, the door swung open to reveal a woman, likely Heeseung's mother.

"Hi, who are you?" she inquired, her eyes curious but welcoming.

"I'm YN LN," you replied, managing a warm smile despite your nerves. "A friend of Heeseung's."

"Heeseung's friend?" Her expression softened into a delighted grin. "I didn't realize Heeseung had such a pretty friend. I'm Heeseung's mother. Just call me Mrs. Lee."

"Mom..." Heeseung's voice interrupted, his presence suddenly beside you as he quickly shuffled to put on his shoes.

"Heeseung, she seems like a sweet and pretty girl," Mrs. Lee remarked before Heeseung darted, closing the door behind him before his mother could say anything else.

"Your mother seems really nice," you commented, attempting to ease the tension.

"Mhm," Heeseung mumbled, his attention already diverted to his book that he quickly pulled out from his backpack. 

With a pointed look, you reached out your hand, silently urging him to remember.

Heeseung sighed, rolling his eyes in mild exasperation, but he relented, tucking the book away and clasping your hand in his. The touch sent a jolt through you, a feeling you couldn't quite grasp.

"So..." you began, eager to break the silence. "Where's your class?"

"Class 3-B," he replied shortly, his gaze fixed ahead as if unwilling to meet your eyes.

"Mine's right next door." you exclaimed, hoping to inject some enthusiasm into the conversation. "Perfect! Do you know what this means?"

"What?" Heeseung's response was clipped, his tone guarded.

"That I can come over to your class during lunch!" you declared with a wide grin, trying to lighten the mood.

"I eat on the rooftop, alone." he added, emphasizing the word alone.

"Ah, I forget you’re a loner," you teased gently.

"At least I'm productive with my free time," he retorted.

"Well, today we're together!" you suggested brightly and then with a smirk you whispered, "And I can introduce you to... Karina." The mention of your best friend's name made Heeseung blush slightly.

"Shut up," he groaned, moving to cover your mouth with his free hand just in case you would say anything else.

"Like I want to-" feeling a sudden hard squeeze in your hand "Ow..."

"Now shut up before I squeeze harder," Heeseung warned, though there was a hint of genuine threat in his tone.

"You're no fun," you muttered. Eventually, you arrived at the school, fingers still intertwined as you drew curious whispers from the hallway.

"YN and Heeseung, dating? No way..." you heard a girl whisper by the lockers, causing a flush of embarrassment to color your cheeks. When you reached Heeseung's classroom, you reluctantly released his hand, noticing the tension in his posture as he leaned against the doorframe.

"See you later?" you asked, "I'll be on the rooftop during break."

"Alright..." Heeseung's response was hesitant, but then came an unexpected word that caught you off guard. "...baby." The pet name hung in the air.

"R-right... anyway, bye..." you stammered, feeling a rush of different emotions. You'd been in relationships before, but you were never so flustered for such small things like that. Could it be... you weren't falling for him, right?

HEESEUNG SETTLED AT THE EMPTY TABLE on the rooftop, his gaze drifting across the school grounds. The rooftop held a special meaning for him, offering a quiet place to read, barely visited by others.

“Heeseung!” Your voice sliced through the silence, drawing his attention. He glanced up to see you approaching, two lunches in hand.

With a bright grin, you placed the meals in front of him. “I brought lunch!”

"Thanks," Heeseung replied , his tone cool as he examined the homemade kimbap. As you both sat down, awkwardness settled between you, by the avoidance of eye contact.

Summoning his courage, Heeseung brought a question that had lingered in his mind for months. "Why did you like Choi Jiho?"

Your eyes widened at the unexpected, catching you off guard. You paused, hesitating with how to respond.Memories of Jiho flooded your mind. You had forgotten about him for the past 4 days due to Heeseung being on your mind 24/7.

You cleared your throat, summoning a bitter lie to your lips. "I... uh, he was nice, I guess."

"Did Jiho even like you back?" Heeseung's question cut through the air. That’s when you realized something. You remembered the way Jiho would never defend you in any moment or barely spend time with you. And the time when he did? He would always be on his phone. You realized how stupid you were as you thought the moments where he just wanted attention from the public by kissing you or flirting with you meant that he loved you. 

"I... I don't know," you admitted. Deep down, you knew the painful reality—that Jiho had used you.

"Oh, okay..." Heeseung responded, sensing the weight of your words. "So, let's change the top—"

"I know he didn't like me," you interjected, your gaze drifting to the sky before meeting Heeseung's gaze. "I know he was the worst boyfriend I could ask for."

Confusion flickered across Heeseung's features at your sudden confession.

"I was blind. I regret it," you murmured, your gaze falling to your lap. "But it's in the past."

Heeseung regarded you with his usual stern and cold look. "Then why did you tell Jiho you were meeting someone else?"

"Because... I wanted to prove I was happier now," you muttered, grappling with your tumultuous emotions.

"Are you?" Heeseung's gaze bore into yours.

"I... I think I am," you replied

"You 'think'?" Heeseung pressed, his tone firm.

"I'm happier than before," you insisted, though the vagueness of your answer hung in the air.

"That's not specific," Heeseung challenged.

"I can't be specific," you confessed, frustration simmering beneath the surface. "Because I don't know, at all."

"Are you sure?" Heeseung persisted.

"Heeseung, it's my feelings, yes I'm sure," you asserted.

"I'm just physically and mentally curious, so it allured me to—" Heeseung began, but you cut him off.

"Okay, I think that's enough. The bell's going to ring soon. Text me later!" With that, you rose abruptly, snatching your lunch bag and offering a quick wave before descending the stairs back to class.

HEESEUNG LAY ON  HIS BED,  staring up at the ceiling. He knew he should be studying, but your words about Jiho lingered in his mind. "I'm happier than before." Why was he even pondering such things? Lost in thought, he was jolted back to reality by a faint buzz from his phone. Retrieving it, he found a message from you.

YN LN: heeseung!! all my friends rejected me to go to the mall TT, so wanna go together?? ><

Heeseung paused, a moment of surprise flashing across his features. You were asking him to go to the mall with you? It felt almost like you were asking him out. He composed himself and replied:

Heeseung: Sure. Send location and time, I’ll be there.

Putting down his phone, he realized the weight of his agreement. He had just agreed to go on a date with you. And now, he needed to get ready. Hastily, he rummaged through his closet, seeking out a suitable outfit. Opting for his lone stylish varsity jacket paired with jeans, he ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to tidy it up.

Rushing to the mall, he found you leaning against a store wall, your attention fixed on your phone. As he approached, a cupid seemed to strike him with an arrow as his cheeks flushed. The simplicity of your outfit and the gentle cascade of your hair rendered you utterly captivating.

You looked up, catching sight of Heeseung's slightly stunned expression, and greeted him with a warm smile, gesturing for him to join you.

"Hi," Heeseung muttered, still awestruck by your beauty.

"Hi!" you returned the greeting with equal warmth. "I just need to buy some makeup for my friends, or maybe myself, and possibly shop around! Anything you need?"

"Not necessarily," Heeseung replied, scanning the mall.

"Okay then, follow me," you said, seizing his arm and leading him to the nearest makeup store. Arriving at the lip product section, you perused the selection of lipsticks, lip glosses, and lip tints. Grabbing a random lip tint, you turned to Heeseung.

"Can I try it on you? I need to see if it looks good on a person," you suggested.

"What? When did I sign up for this?" Heeseung sighed.

"Please," you pleaded, giving him your best pout. "I can erase it right after."

"Fine."

With careful precision, you applied the tint to his lips. The warmth of his breath brushed against your cheeks and neck, sending a flurry of sensations through you. Your heart raced as you admired his perfectly shaped lips, now tinted with color. After smoothing out any unevenness, you stepped back to admire the look.

"Hmm... I think this works," you concluded, grabbing the new tint to go check out and pay for it.

YOU SAVORED THE SWEET TASTE OF vanilla ice cream as you took a bite, sitting side by side with Heeseung on the bench outside the convenient store where you first met. He listened attentively as you shared stories about your friends and family.

"And then Giselle told me—" Your sentence was cut short as Heeseung's fingers delicately wiped a smudge of ice cream from the corner of your lips.

"Mhm?" He hummed softly, encouraging you to continue. Your heart fluttered at his touch, beating rapidly in your chest.

"...y-yeah," you stammered, trying to regain your composure, your gaze drifting to the hues of the sunset painting the sky in shades of blue and orange.

"Are you done with your story?" Heeseung inquired, to which you nodded hastily. You weren't finished, but another word might turn you into a flustered mess.

After a brief silence, you suggested, "How about we go for a walk by the Han River?" Heeseung agreed with a nod, and soon you found yourselves strolling side by side along the riverbank, the gentle sound of water trickling in the background adding to the peaceful atmosphere.

Unexpectedly, Heeseung asked, "Are you going to the dance?" It was a question he wouldn't normally ask.

"The dance?" you raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by his inquiry.

"Yeah, the school dance?" Heeseung clarified, his expression tinged with skepticism.

"Oh, well, yeah," you replied, feeling a pang of disappointment as you remembered his feelings for Karina. He didn't like you, so why did you allow yourself to hope for something more?

"Is Karina going?" Heeseung continued, and you struggled to find your voice, your throat suddenly dry.

"O-oh, uhm, I think she's going..." you managed to say, the reality of your situation crashing down on you like a wave. Foolish fantasies had consumed you for the past five days, but now you bit your lip to stave off the embarrassment and tears threatening to surface.

"I think I'm tired. I'm gonna go home now. Bye, Heeseung," you forced a small smile before turning away, walking in the opposite direction. Heeseung watched you go, a confused expression clouding his features as you moved farther and farther away.

LEANING AGAINST THE WALL, you found yourself lost in thoughts of Heeseung, the person who was on your mind day in and day out. Why did it bother you so much if he had feelings for your best friend, Karina? Why did his presence hold such sway over you?

"YN?" Winter's voice broke through your trail of thoughts,snapping you back to reality.

"Oh, sorry, I was zoning out," you replied, trying to shake off the distraction.

"You've been distant all day. Is everything okay?" Ningning's concern was evident in her voice.

"Just tired, didn't get much sleep last night," you reassured them with a forced smile, hoping they wouldn't press further.

"Are you sure?" Giselle's skepticism lingered, her gaze searching yours.

"It's nothing, just life being complicated," you offered, trying to reassure their worries.

"If you need to talk, we're here for you," Karina chimed in, her comforting touch on your hands a familiar gesture she usually did. How you longed to confess and tell them about Heeseung and the jumble of emotions you felt and fought with, but the fear of ruining your relationships with both him and Karina kept you quiet.

At that moment, it came to you: you were in love with Heeseung. It had to be a mistake right? You could never like someone like Heeseung.  The way your heart thumped when Heeseung did small actions like hold your hand or even wipe off anything from your mouth.

 Yet, you couldn't shake the fear, the fear of history repeating itself with someone like Jiho, selfish and foolish. What was the point of falling for someone who didn't accept your feelings and liked someone else

HEESEUNG HAD REHEARSED EVERY WORD, every breath, for the moment he would finally summon the courage to ask you out for dinner. With trembling fingers, he reached for his phone, his thumb hovering over the call button. The weight of his nerves pressed down on him as he prepared to take the risk.

As the phone rang, his heart raced, the sound of your voice on the other end sending a jumble of emotions through him "Hello?" you answered, your voice like music and beauty to his ears.

"Hi..." Heeseung replied, his voice betraying his unease.

"Why did you call me?" you asked, curiosity tinged but yet your voice sounded heavy and drained. Heeseung couldn't help but notice the change in your tone for the past days, wondering if he had somehow caused it. Had he done something wrong? 

"I was just wondering if... uhm... you wanted to go get dinner tonight together?" Heeseung's voice faltered slightly, the weight of his question hanging in the air.

"Dinner tonight?" Your voice held a hint of confusion, but there was also a spark of interest. "When and where?" you inquired.

"At the Japanese place down the block, at 6?" Heeseung suggested, hoping you would agree.

"Sure, I'll see you at 6 then," you replied, your voice brightening slightly.

"Right, anyways, bye!" Heeseung quickly ended the call, a rush of happiness coursing through him. He had done it. He asked you out for dinner.

With a sense of pride, Heeseung flopped onto his bed, his phone resting on his chest as. a wide grin spread across his face. He replayed the conversation in his mind, excited for the evening of day. 

Meanwhile, on the other end of the line, you couldn't contain your excitement. Heeseung. Lee Heeseung. had. Asked. you. out. to. dinner. You, YN LN.  You couldn't help but squeal with delight into your pillow.

Eager to make a good impression, you jumped out of bed and rushed to your closet, rummaging through your clothes in search of the perfect outfit for the occasion. 

HEESEUNG SAT NERVOUSLY, tapping the table as he waited for you to arrive. Within minutes, you rushed in and quickly spotted him.

"Hi!" you greeted with a smile, settling down at the table.

"Hi," he smiled back (inside you felt a flutter at how cute his smile was). You both looked at the menu and ordered as the waiter approached. After eating, you quietly walked outside, enjoying the cool evening air.

The dark, cloudless sky revealed a glimmering array of stars. You admired the view, unaware that Heeseung was watching you, captivated by your beauty.

"The stars are so pretty," you remarked in awe.

"Mhm," he replied, still focused on you. Suddenly, you felt his fingers gently tuck a stray hair behind your ear. Your face flushed as butterflies fluttered in your stomach.

"I have a question, YN..." Heeseung began, and you turned to him, curious.

"Do you... want to go to the dance?" he asked. Your heart raced, your stomach churned, and your head spun. He had just asked you to the dance.

"T-the dance?" you stuttered.

"Yeah... I mean, just as... you know, for visual purposes," he tried to clarify.

"Right..." you nodded, agreeing. "I'll go with you." Heeseung's face lit up with a big grin as you accepted his invitation.

"That's great! I'll, um... see you at the dance then," Heeseung said with a small smile and a wave as you both went your separate ways, heading home with a light heart.

As you walked home, your mind buzzed with excitement. The thought of going to the dance with Heeseung made your heart skip a beat. You couldn't help but replay the moment he asked you, feeling a rush of happiness each time. It was like a dream come true, and you couldn't wait for the night of the dance to arrive.

WEEKS FLEW BY, each one filled with anticipation, excitement, and a series of dates. Finally, the much-anticipated day of the dance had arrived. It had been six weeks since you eagerly marked this date on your calendar. Reflecting on the past four months since you met Heeseung, you knew deep down that you were head over heels in love with him. The moment he asked you to the dance, those feelings intensified.

"Do you think this dress is pretty enough?" you asked, twirling in your knee-length black dress adorned with delicate lace details, a sweetheart neckline, and spaghetti straps.  The dress hugged your figure perfectly.

"It's gorgeous," Ningning complimented, deftly assisting with your hair.

"It's perfect, just like you," Winter reassured, adjusting your dress with care.

"Easy for you to say, with Beomgyu as your date," you teased, prompting laughter from your friends.

"And you have Heeseung," Winter smiled, smoothing out the fabric of your dress.

"You two are so cute together," Giselle teased, earning a blush from you.

"I love you guys," you said, feeling grateful for their support as you shared a group hug.

"Even if I'm dating a man, you'll always be my number one," Winter jokes, lightening the mood as you head to Karina's car.

Upon arriving at the dance, the lively atmosphere was perfect. Laughter, music, and chatter filled the room as people talked, danced, and enjoyed themselves. Spotting Heeseung entering the room, you felt a rush of excitement.

He looked perfect in his suit, his hair perfectly styled. Rushing over to him, you greeted him with a beaming smile.

"Heeseung!" you exclaimed. Heeseung looked up, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you. I

"You look amazing, YN," Heeseung complimented, his smile genuine.

"Thanks, but you're the one who looks stunning," you replied, feeling your heart flutter as you took in his appearance. "Come on, let's grab some snacks and go have fun!"

The next two hours were filled with laughter, dancing, and cherished moments spent with Heeseung and your friends. However, amidst the joy, an unexpected encounter with Jiho cast a shadow over the evening.

"YN," Jiho's voice cut through the noise, sending a chill down your spine.

"What do you want, Jiho?" you asked, your tone laced with irritation.

"Are you here with your 'so-called' boyfriend, Heeseung?" Jiho taunted, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Yes, and what's it to you?" you retorted, your patience wearing thin.

“Yeah there is.” his smirk widened, “Don’t act stupid, I knew everything.” 

“God I hate you Jiho.”  you spat, feeling your anger rise.

"Come on, YN. Admit you still love me, and everything will go back to normal," Jiho sneered.

“I don’t even like you anymore, Jiho.”  you said firmly, trying to keep your composure.

"Oh, really? Maybe this will change your mind," Jiho said, leaning in closer. You felt his fingers slip into your waist, his grip firm and tight. You felt his face leaning closer to yours. You quickly stepped back and pushed him aside. 

“Are you fucking crazy?” you yelled. 

“YN, why are you so pissed? Not like you like anyone.”  Jiho's eyes bore into yours, a smirk playing on his lips.

“I don’t want to fucking kiss you,” you glared, “Now fuck off please.” 

“Why is it because of Heeseung? Your fake boyfriend? God, he probably doesn’t even like you YN. He only likes you because you're popular.” he laughed. Your heart sank at his cruel words. The words stung as you heard each word. Heeseung was just a stupid fake boyfriend you had. The two of you had never had a real relationship. A real love. Was Heeseung just playing with your feelings? Did Heeseung even love you like how much you loved him? 

"I hate you, Jiho," you whispered before leaving the party alone, your heart felt heavy. 

YOU SPENT HOURS lying in bed, staring out the rain-splattered window, your cheeks damp from the relentless stream of tears. Days had passed since the dance, and you hadn't mustered the strength to leave the confines of your home. 

"YN, you've been here for hours," Karina's voice broke through the silence, her concern evident as she entered your room. 

"Why didn't you text me?" 

"Phone died," you muttered, burying your face deeper into the sheets. "

Tell me what's wrong," Karina urged gently, taking a seat beside you. 

"I don't know," you confessed, your voice barely audible. 

"Come on," Karina coaxed, her comforting presence offering a glimmer of solace. 

"Okay, fine," you relented, the words tumbling out in a rush. "Jiho said some awful things to me at the dance. Now I'm a wreck, and I can't face Heeseung. I'm in love with him, and it's tearing me apart." 

Karina's eyes widened at the torrent of emotions pouring out. "And you kept this from me all this time?" 

"Karina, I didn't know what to do," you admitted, your voice choking with emotion. "I thought Heeseung felt the same way, but then Jiho made me doubt everything."

"How does Jiho know anything? He's not Heeseung," Karina retorted, frustration evident in her tone. "He's just trying to mess with your head." 

"But what if he's right? What if Heeseung was just pretending all along?" you sighed, a heavy weight settling in your chest. 

"YN," Karina's voice softened, her touch gentle as she sought to comfort you. "How do you know Heeseung doesn't like you? Have you talked to him?" 

"I haven't," you admitted, uncertainty clouding your thoughts.

"Then how can you be so sure?" Karina questioned, her eyes searching yours. "Heeseung cares about you, YN. He was worried sick after the dance. He searched everywhere for you and even left the party early out of concern."

"Are you serious?" you asked, a glimmer of hope flickering in your eyes. 

"Dead serious," Karina affirmed, her sincerity unwavering. "Talk to him, YN. You'll see." 

"But what if I'm wrong?" you hesitated, your fear holding you back. "Just trust me on this," Karina reassured, squeezing your hand gently. "Talk to Heeseung. You'll thank me later." Karina offered you a reassuring smile before enveloping you in an embrace.

HEESEUNG WAS SERIOUSLY DEAD WORRIED about you. He thought you were possibly hit by some car or even worse kidnapped. His thoughts wandered as he tried to think of all the possibilities you were. You stopped even coming to school for weeks.

The memory of the dance replayed in his mind like a broken record, haunting him with unanswered questions. Your sudden disappearance after excusing yourself to the bathroom left him questionable and restless. Desperately, he asked your friends as your friends only left him shrugs and quietness making him uneasy of the situation.

When you finally returned after a week-long absence, Heeseung couldn't help but notice the change in you. You awfully looked tired and you had eyebags. And the most important change, you were avoiding Heeseung. Was it something he had done to mess things up?

Heeseung sat at his usual spot on the rooftop, gazing out at the view, trying to get his thoughts out.

"Look who it is, Lee Heeseung," a voice pierced through the silence, pulling Heeseung from his reverie. Turning, he found Jiho leaning casually against the stairway exit, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Heeseung's girlfriend, huh?" Jiho taunted, his words hitting Heeseung like a sudden blow.

"What did you do to YN?" Heeseung's voice was edged with a mixture of anger and concern, his gaze sharp.

"Nothing much, just a little truth-telling," Jiho chuckled, his demeanor full of arrogance. 

"What truth?" Heeseung's tone was laced with urgency, his fists clenched in frustration.

“Just a few things that need to be said. Like how you guys are just dating, nothing more than that.”

Heeseung's jaw tightened as the weight of Jiho's words settled in, his mind reeling with disbelief and anger.

"Do you even know why YN hates you?" Heeseung spat, his voice seething with contempt.

"Why don't you tell me?" Jiho's smirk widened.

"Cause you’re truly an awful person” Heeseung retorted, his patience wearing thin.

“Oh really?” Jiho teased, “I didn’t know.”

Jiho's mocking laughter only fueled Heeseung's rage, his frustration exploding into action as he delivered a swift punch to Jiho's jaw.

"You're really undeserving of her," Heeseung's words echoed in the empty space.

“You could punch me as many times, I don’t care.” Jiho smiled. 

“I would but actually I don’t want to see your ugly face, so fuck off.” Heeseung stormed out of the rooftop leaving Jiho alone on the ground.

IT WAS 1 AM WHEN YOU FOUND YOURSELF at the convenience store, clad in your most comfortable clothes, not even caring if people saw you. The rush of cold air from the conditioner greeted you as you stepped inside, scanning the assortment of snacks. The scent of sweet delights filled your senses, tempting you to buy more. You reached for a snack when the chime of the door signaled someone's arrival.

Looking up, you were met with the sight of Heeseung standing across the store, his gaze fixed on you. It felt like deja vu, reminiscent of the first time you laid eyes on him. Your throat went dry, memories of Jiho's words echoing in your mind: "He probably doesn’t even like you." Anxious, you bit your lip as Heeseung approached.

"Can we talk outside?" Heeseung's voice broke through the tension. With a quiet nod, you followed him out of the store.

"YN, what's going on?" Heeseung's concern was evident as he confronted you, hoping you would answer honestly.

"Heeseung, it's nothing," you lied

"It's not nothing," Heeseung persisted, his tone firm.

"Okay, fine, I'll tell you. I fell in love with you, but then Jiho made me doubt everything. I thought you probably didn’t even like me, maybe you liked Karina instead. What was the point of being with you if I'm only going to hurt myself?" The words spilled out in a rush, leaving you empty.. Heeseung froze at your confession, disbelief in his expression.

"You like me?" Heeseung's eyebrow arched in surprise.

"I know you don't like me—" Before you could finish, Heeseung silenced you with a soft kiss. His lips were soft and perfect.You felt his fingers sliding into your waist, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss. Your lips were moving in sync, in the same passion, kissing each other back. You felt his fingers intertwined with yours, drawing soft circles on the back of your hand.

Pulling away, breathless, you attempted to speak, but Heeseung beat you to it. "I like you a lot, YN. I was in denial of my feelings for months, but I realized I was actually in love with you." You widen your eyes at his confession

"Heeseung, you're not lying, right?" suspicion tinged your words.

"Do you think I would ever lie to you?" Heeseung chuckled, tucking your hair behind your ear, a gesture that he would always done 

"No, but it all seems real," you confessed.

Heeseung's laughter, the sound you cherished the most, filled the air. "Then, will you be my real girlfriend, YN LN?"

"Of course, any day I'll choose you," you smiled, leaning in for another kiss. 

MONTHS HAD PASSED and you found yourself in a state of bliss you never imagined possible. Seated on the rooftop with Heeseung, your fingers intertwined, you gazed out into the view before you, the cool breeze enveloping you in a sense of serenity.

"Look how far we've come," you remarked, a smile gracing your lips as you watched Heeseung absentmindedly draw small patterns on your palm.

"Yeah," Heeseung nodded, his touch gentle and comforting.

"I love you, Heeseung," you whispered softly, your words carrying the weight of your affection.

"I love you more," Heeseung replied in a tender whisper, his warm breath tickling the sensitive skin of your neck as he leaned in to press a series of delicate kisses along its curve.

"Heeseung, that tickles!" you laughed, squirming slightly at the sensation.

"This is your punishment for getting a 60% on the exam," Heeseung teased, his tone playful yet teasing.

"Hey, I'm not some nerd like you!" you retorted, playfully poking his side.

"Nerd?" Heeseung chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"A cute nerd," you amended with a grin, your heart swelling with affection.

"And you're my cute princess," Heeseung declared, pressing a sweet and tender kiss to your lips, his love for you shining brightly in his eyes. You truly were in love with Heeseung, and you weren’t going to deny it.

#𐙚 nini works #enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen masterlist #enhypen x reader #nini talks!!! #enhypen scenarios #enhypen au #nini rants !! <3 #enhypen imagines #heeseung scenarios #heeseung x reader #heeseung enhypen #heeseung imagines #lee heeseung #jay enhypen #heeseung fluff #park jongseong #sim jaeyun #heeseung au #heeseung x yn #heeseung x you #heeseung soft hours #heeseung soft thoughts #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung fluff #lee heeseung x you #lee heeseung imagines #heeseung #enhypen x female reader

[gadriezmannsgirl]

I suddenly got a wave of inspiration and several fics are going to be done today (Hopefully at least two) , so first fic out!

Also I just realized that this past February 24th (Or 26th, Idk) was my first ever post in this place, so happy anniversary to this blog and to this piece!

Night Out Problems -P.G6

Summary: A night out in which you had a little too much to drink

You giggled once again at your friend's mistakes, you two were singing at the top of your lungs in the backseat of a car

"Así no va, tonta" (That's not how it goes, silly) You giggled "It's got me looking so crazy right now, your love's got me looking so crazy right now" You corrected while laughing

"She repeats it?"

"Then how else is it?"

"Isn't there something page me?" You look at her

"What?" You said after a minute of silence before you two broke in laughter

"Y/N, we're here" Your best friend's, Melissa's boyfriend, Frank says "Are you good to go or should I call-?"

"I'm good, I'm good"

"Sure?" You opened the car door and went to get out but almost met the floor "Ok, no, I need help"

"I'm calling your boy" He said getting out of the car and estabilizing you

"Pabs?" You asked excited and he hums, you heard the singing of your friend "¡Loca, bajale a la voz!" (You crazy woman, lower your voice!)

"Hermano" You soon heard another male voice greeting you by the car "Gracias por traerla" (Thanks for bringing her back)

"No worries, bro. Everything's good"

"Have a good night, text when you both get home please" Frank nods

"Have a good night guys and Y/N" He called you as you look at Frank "I'm glad you're getting your degree"

"Oh shush as if you sing any better" Both guys laughed as you watched how Frank got in the car and drove off

"Venga, c'mon Amor. Let's go inside"

"I'm not your amor, muchacho. I'm waiting for my boyfriend to come here"

"Oh yeah?" You hum nodding "Where's he?"

"Inside that" You point out your house "house"

"Bueno but let's go closer so we are not standing in the middle of the road"

"Only because I don't want to get run over by a car, my boyfriend wouldn't like that"

"I bet he wouldn't" He said shaking his head "Don't you perhaps have a key to enter?"

"You might be so good looking but I'm not entering with you here, I'll wait for my boy" The guy smiled

"Venga bebé, let's go inside, it's 3am" He tried touching you but you pushed his hands away

"No" You say "I'm going to call my boyfriend if you keep that up"

"Call him then"

"I will" You pulled your phone out only to see the call didn't go through "I don't have signal?" You look at the guy who has a smirk on his face and one of his eyebrows up "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Nothing. Don't mind me" He crossed his arms around his chest letting you see his muscles.

But you didn't let that fool you, you had a boyfriend and you wanted your boyfriend now.

So, you narrowed your eyes looking at him

"Why are you looking at me now?"

"You know, for very weird reasons you look exactly like my boyfriend"

"Do I?" You nod

"But he doesn't have a brother. Or that's what I know. So, you are not him"

"Why I'm not him?"

"Because he has beard and you are clean shaved"

"That's because I shaved in the afternoon"

"Yeah, he knows that's my thing to do"

"Alright, amor. I'm truly tired and I have recovery session at 10am today. What do you need for me to prove I'm your boyfriend?"

"Nothing because you're not! My boyfriend is Pablo Páez, a football player mostly known by Gavi, you're not him and once he finds out you're hitting on me, he'll be so pissed at you" The guy's smirk keep growing each time "And stop making fun of me"

"You said you wanted to call your boyfriend?" You nod "Try again this time without the airplane mode on" You look at your phone to see the airplane on top of your settings

"Oh!" You looked up at him "I'll call him now" You took a few steps off the stairs and almost fell making the guy come to you "No! I'm good, I'm good. Don't need to touch what's not yours" You said and dialed your boyfriend

A few rings went by only to hear his phone ring behind you, you turn around seeing the guy with the phone in his ear

"Go ahead" He smiled widely "¿Qué querías decirme, preciosa?" (What did you wanted to tell me, pretty girl?)

"You are my boyfriend!" You smiled widely "My lord, I have such a good taste in men. You're the prettiest boy I've ever seen" You giggled coming up the stairs once again to wrap your arms around him

"You said not to touch what's not mine?"

"But you're my boyfriend, I'm yours and you're minee" You dragged the 'e' out "That's why you looked exactly like my boyfriend, because you are!" You laughed squishing his cheeks

"Yes, I am" He said in between your hands

"So prettyyyy" You said "Why don't you open the door? I wanna lay on top of you, cuddle and kiss you so bad. God, you look so comfy, how is that even possible?" Pablo laughs at you buried depp into his chest, your voice coming out muffled

"Thank god, I'm recording this, you wouldn't believe it"

"Are you recording?" He hums as you grab his hand pulling it up to your mouth "Whatup girl?-

"You need to marry this man like as soon as possible, he's the love of your life and he's so perfect, you wouldn't believe it"

You groan hearing your voice as you grab a bite of the sandwich your boyfriend made for you "Please, stop that, even thought I mean it, I was drunk as hell"

"There's no need to be embarrassed about it, amor" Pablo laughed wrapping his strong arms around you and kissing your neck, the recording still playing "You are the love of my life as well, you're the perfect girl for me and I do plan on getting down on my knee and propose, just waiting for the right time"

"I would say yes anytime"

"That's good to know" He smiled "Can I pull this audio in our wedding?"

"Definitely not"

"Oh, c'mon! Why not?"

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviymarcsbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld @http-isabela

#gadriezmannsgirl replies #gadriezmannsgirl writes! #pablo gavi x reader #fc barcelona #pablo gavi #gavi #gavi x reader #pablo gavi imagine #pablo gavi fluff #gavi fluff #pablo gavi icons #gavi icons #football players x reader #football fanfic #football players imagine #gavi imagine

[peachsayshi]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ when gojo has a crush on geto's childhood best friend

minors / ageless / blank blogs dni

ೃ⁀➷ notes: a little match up break because this has been running through mind all day & it was inspired by this fun quiz! my baby boy is so sweet and sincere when he's love, even though it's doesn't always come across that way x

ೃ⁀➷ tags: angst and fluff; unrequited(ish) love; pining wc: 970

♡ satoru's heart races when suguru introduces you to him for the very first time. of course, he's dated before but those were fleeting. the ones who came into his world swiftly left because he was too "emotionally unavailable" and "never made enough time". he wonders if his infatuation hit him this hard, and struck him this deeply to the point where it actually rendered him speechless, or if this sudden problem is simply because of you.

♡ my goodness, you're pretty. so, so pretty that he can't stop blushing. that he stumbles over his words and says the wrong thing. that he can't stop walking into doors and knocking over glasses. he can't compose himself and winds up coming across as a complete and utter fool. how is he supposed to keep an even keel when at the slightest look you manage to throw him off center?

♡ suguru eventually tells him that you were both neighbors, your families very good friends, and that you used to have sleepovers every weekend which have made you both inseparable ever since. he shares his memories with little anecdotes about you, but he pays attention to the intrigue in satoru's eyes. geto is extremely protective of you and warns his friend not to mess around. "satoru, she's just as important to me as you are," he lectures, "and I won't hesitate to kick your ass if you try and mess around with her". satoru raises his hand in surrender, and stammers out promises that his inquiries are completely Innocent.

♡ you don't take to him so quickly, but satoru insists that it's okay. he thinks it will all change once you get to know him a little bit better, but in the process of proving something to you, he can't seem to stop himself from falling for you. every interaction results in him crawling back to suguru for some guidance on how he can work his magic to win you over. "I just...I just want us to get along..." he murmurs, like a sad little puppy licking his wounds.

♡ at first, geto takes it all with a grain of salt. this isn't the first time a guy has tried to worm their way into your heart, and he isn't surprised that his own best friend would be so taken by you. over time he starts realizing just how serious it is for satoru. how failures on his part to earn your affection results in him wallowing in sadness and pouting with frustration. "you really like her, don't you?" he confronts one night, and to his surprise his best friend simply sighs in defeat as he gazes longingly into the distance. "yeah, I really do..."

♡ geto watches satoru go to extraordinary lengths just to impress you. an idiot in love, he thinks with a smile, but one whose heart is truly worthy of yours. he doesn't step in satoru's way, and offers his assistance wherever he can. he plays matchmaker on the side - removing himself from scenarios in the hopes that quality time can bring you both closer together. he notes all of satoru's gestures: like when he pre orders your favorite drinks so it's ready by the time you arrive, or how he sifts through the compilation of information that he's memorized about you to find you the "perfect" presents, and that he is always the first to jump at your every beck and call.

♡ and satoru...can see it's working; you no longer regard him with disapproving eyes, have dropped your reservations and allowed the most vulnerable parts of you to flourish with him around. he makes you laugh, and it's like walking out of a battle carrying a victory flag. he sees you inching closer when you both sit together, and his heart is so ready to leap out of his own chest just to rest comfortably on your lap. you actually enjoy his company, and he can tell because you both spend a lot more time together without suguru around...

♡ satoru is trying is best, and he thinks he's doing great. "I'm going to tell her tonight," he informs suguru - his cheeks so pink and his smile stretching from ear to ear that suguru thinks it might stay that way permanently. the two of them glance over to you speaking with shoko and utahime, and suguru sweetly pats him on the shoulder before grinning softly in his direction. "go for it," he encourages, "you've been holding out for so long, I think its about time"

♡ satoru approaches you - his palms clammy, his heart racing so fast that it makes him a little dizzy.

♡ but...you don't notice that he and suguru are just within your reach when you let the following confession slip: "satoru is really sweet, but...he's not my type..."

♡ his world stops there.

♡ there's a catch in his throat, and his cheeks turn about five shades of crimson as the three of you turn around to face the interruption of him and geto approaching. you're taken aback by his presence, and he can practically see the shock washing over you, but before you can say anything else he quickly excuses himself and heads outside.

♡ oh, he feels lightheaded, so much so that he needs to sit down. long legs collapse onto the front steps just outside the door and he's struggling to catch his breath. his chest is tight, the stretch extending from his torso down to the discomforting knot in the pit of his stomach. his face is hot with embarrassment, and tears prick his eyes as your words ring around his head in taunting failure.

♡ but you're perfect to me, he thinks with a slight upturn of his brows. you're all I ever wanted.

ೃ⁀➷ part two will be from the reader's pov. ps - im gonna squish this boy with so much love, I swear :ccc

#gojox reader #gojo x you #gojo x female reader #gojo x y/n #gojo angst #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x female reader #satoru gojo x y/n #satoru gojo angst #jujutsu kaisen fan fiction

[cryptidghostgirl]

Hello hello!! You're probably swamped with asks, but if you have the time and energy, you should do a slow burn Alastor x reader set in the 1920s where the reader is a performer at mimzys speakeasy and that's where Alastor goes to chose his victims. He sees the reader for the first time and immediately thinks that they are his next victim but he keeps getting thwarted by small incidents, such as the reader leaving early and him barely missing his chance. After a while he notices small things about them and their personality after sort of observing them, and then they meet and he loses his interest in killing them. Of course the slow burn happens, the drama ensues, he's still a killer but keeps it a secret and then after a while the reader finds out. You can choose if you want a happy ending or not, but I had that idea in my mind and your one of the only writers I see that could do it justice. Thanks for sharing your talents!!! Your amazing and gifted in ways that inspire everyone who interacts with your blog🫶🫶🫶

A/N You’re literally so sweet?? Wtf?? I love you?? Thank you??? I hope you like what I did with this fun and fluffy idea!!! ahhhhhh!!!! also, I am running with the ambiguity of the ending. I am such a little slut for ambiguity.

Burn (Human!Alastor x Human!Gn!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: SLOW BURN. SLOW. BURNING IMAGERY. A LITTLE OVER THE TOP ON THE BURNING IMAGERY THING. Dead bodies, blood, murder, killing, mentions of stalking. This one got away from me a bit.

Word Count: 4,197

Master Lists:

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Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask about it.

Ravenous, that was the word. Not in the way where everything dissolves, leaving only the object of your affection. Not in the way that someone is controlled by desire. Hungry in the way fire eats paper, in the way kindling catches light. Starved in the way that leads to a progressive repeated sense of the word, a starving. A constant state of being famished that turns into a well loved and cared for blaze. Alastor burned.

The box of matches pulled from the pocket had been Alastor going to the bar, all those months before. Nearly a year now, once he sat and really thought about it. He had been going to Mimzy's little speakeasy on the outskirts of town since it had been just that, a little speakeasy on the outskirts of town rather than the full fledged, illegal club she ran today.

Back when it was a speak easy, there had never been a problem. On that fateful day, though he hadn't known it then, the club had changed its form. It had become the kindling. Sitting down at the table had been pulling a match from the box and Y/n.... Y/n had been the rough hewn striker paper he lit it on. It was all so obvious now, looking back. The expression 'hindsight is 20/20' existed for a reason.

So, Alastor had entered the club (matchbox out of pocket). As soon as Mimzy had spotted him, she had run over with a bright smile and a glass of whiskey on the house as always. Alastor had always liked Mimzy. She was wild and positively hilarious when she wanted to be but, at the same time, she had a good head for business. Her morals were just wobbly enough that Alastor felt comfortable with her, a camaraderie he felt with no other.

The lights had gone down suddenly and Mimzy, cutting herself off mid sentence, had turned to the stage in excitement.

"Good show tonight?" Alastor had asked.

Alastor never came to Mimzy's club for the music. She knew he didn't care, not really. Still, he had the curtesy to ask and so, she whipped back towards him.

"You betcha." she grinned up at him, "I just got this new kid? Came from all the way up north, can you believe that? Anyway, they have a set of pipes like you wouldn't believe! Just the bees knees, I tell you."

Grabbing Alastor's arm, Mimzy dragged him to a table by the stage. Alastor sat down across from her (match from the box) with an air of mild reluctance. Mimzy tapped her hands on the table impatiently.

A spot light flickered on and a scrawny young kid stepped onto the stage. He couldn't be much younger than Alastor or Mimzy themselves but he was one of those people that always look younger than they are. He had been working for Mimzy for a while now but, Alastor had never bothered to learn his name. He was simply 'Mimz's Manager' in his view of the world. The kid cleared his throat, leaning in towards the microphone which had been placed at center stage.

"How are we feeling out there tonight?" he asked the room at large and there had been a miscellaneous cheer from the room at large, "Well that's good to hear! We've got a real treat for you tonight folks. All the way from the Big Apple, we bring you, Y/n!"

The kid left the stage and a new figure stepped out from the shadows (revelation of match striker paper). The minute Alastor saw them, in the well cut suit that shone dark in the light, he knew. They were perfect. Slim, but not too fit and shorter than he was. Morally ambiguous enough in their aims that they had come running from New York to work at a speakeasy. This 'Y/n,' if that was even their real name, was his ideal next victim. Alastor smiled in the dim light as somewhere off stage, a piano began to play.

"I'll be loving you, always" the person sang and Alastor was taken aback.

Mimzy had been right. He had never heard a voice like it before. They sang with an emotional depth that could be heard from few. Somehow, they still managed to keep it sounding like music.

"When the things you plan Need a helping hand I will understand, always, always"

Mimzy leaned across the table to Alastor, her eyes alight.

"What did I tell you?" she whispered.

Alastor nodded his head to the side in vague agreement.

"Not for just an hour Not for just a day"

When they finished their set a half hour later, it was to raucous applause. The house lights raised and with them, Mimzy stood from her chair.

"I'll be back in two shakes." she promised before disappearing off into the crowd.

Alastor leaned back in his chair, the wood creaking beneath his weight. Contemplatively, he took a sip from his drink. The time before a kill was nearly as an enjoyable as the act itself. It was ritualistic, it brought him closer to god.

Before he knew it, Mimzy was back, dragging the singer behind her. They looked slightly frazzled, their hair a bit messy and their brow furrowed.

"Mimzy!" they exclaimed as they struggled to keep up with the woman holding their wrist in her vice-like grip.

Their speaking voice was... different than Alastor had expected. From the way they had sung on stage, he had thought it would be sharp, loud, ebullient. Instead, it was rather soft. Alastor couldn't help but think of the creek out back of the house he had grown up in.

"Al, meet my new favorite!" Mimzy announced, coming to a stop beside Alastor.

"I..."

The situation had been unexpected to say the least. Alastor had had a long day. He hadn't come here to socialize, he came here to drink. Now, he was at a loss for words, the haze of sleep and irritation clouding his mind.

Y/n looked at Mimzy before fixing their gaze back on him. The took a step forward, fixing a smile on their face, and held out their hand.

"Y/n."

So it was their real name. The one they presented to the world, at least.

Alastor smiled, standing from his seat and taking their hand in his.

"Alastor."

They had a firm handshake. There was something authoritative about it, something just a bit too confident.

"Pleasure to be meeting you." they said.

"Quite the pleasure." Alastor nodded.

They broke contact and Y/n turned to Mimzy, suddenly seeming very tired.

"I'm gonna head, Mimzy." they hummed, their voice nearly drowned out by the cacophony surrounding them.

Before Mimzy could say a word against their statement, they were gone. The crowd sheltered them from sight almost immediately. After that night, Alastor started coming to the club a lot more often.

He always sat in the same seat, the table near stage left. It was right next to the exit. Anyone getting off the stage had to go right past him. It was a calculated choice. Step one of his little projects, so to speak, had always been learning more about his victims, finding out their patterns.

The problem was, Y/n never seemed to do the same thing twice. Every time Alastor would think himself ready, would ready everything for the action, something different happen. The first time, it had been that Y/n had simply managed to slip out earlier than normal. Mimzy was always introducing them to someone or another after their shows, delaying their departure. That night, it seemed, they had somehow been able to avoid the mayhem.

Another time, the problem had been that Y/n had stayed at the club too long. Alastor was a working man and once the clock hit midnight, it was time to cut his losses and go home. A third time, Y/n had just happened to call out sick the very night he had gotten everything back in order.

A month in, and Alastor was ready for his fourth attempt. He sat at his usual table, drinking his usual drink. When Y/n left the stage, he kept his eyes trained on them as always. It went like clockwork - Mimzy pulled them away, they tried desperately to escape and eventually, they succeeded. That was when everything went south again.

One second, Y/n was by the bar and the next? Gone. Alastor got to his feet, tossing a bill or two to the bar tender and disappearing out through the door. He was determined. Tonight had to be the night. If tonight wasn't the night? He was done. Alastor was not a foolish man, he knew when he was beat.

Quietly, nothing but the sound of cicadas and the occasional echo of a car from elsewhere in the city accompanying him, Alastor slipped down the ally he knew the club's back door let out into.

"There you are."

Alastor spun around.

"I was beginning to think you wouldn't show."

Y/n leaned casually against the wall, the dark fabric of their dress blending softly with the night. When Alastor didn't reply, standing in their gaze like a deer in headlights, they stood themselves up and walked the step and a half it took for them to be face to face with him.

"I'd like it if you stopped following me. Or, trying to follow me. It's getting kind of old.'' (match struck paper, match remained unlit.)

Alastor resumed his composure. Sliding his hands into his pockets, he leaned forward, fixing a teasing grin onto his face.

"Oh, would you now?"

Y/n, much to his surprise, held their ground.

"Yeah, I would. Whats your interest in me anyways?"

Thinking on his feet had never been an issue for Alastor. Besides, he really did have some questions for the illusive singer. Or, he had one question for them. One that might lead to others.

"Oh, you know." he hummed, straightening back up, "All the way from the 'Big Apple.'"

Y/n scoffed at his parody of their nightly introduction to the stage. They crossed their arms, glancing off to the ally's entrance as a drunk couple stumbled by.

"Yep."

"Why?"

Turning to face him again, Y/n narrowed their eyes.

"Why do you wanna know?"

The hint of an accent. At least he knew they weren't lying about where they came from.

"I suppose you can call me a curious fan."

"I think being a bit less of both those things would suit you."

They fell into a brief, nearly uncomfortable silence. Letting out a sigh, Y/n was the one to break it.

"Look," they began, "I know you're friends with my boss and all but... I am going to go back into that dive and I am going to stay there until you are long gone. I'll stay the night if I have to, d'ya get it?"

Alastor's smile tightened.

"Loud and clear."

"Good."

Y/n didn't see Alastor for another week. Slowly, the tension that had permeated their every waking moment since meeting Alastor that first night, the constant ache of his eyes on their back, began to fade. Just a little, but it was enough. When they saw him sitting at the bar almost two weeks after their little altercation, the amount it had faded was just enough to make them angry at his return.

Alastor hadn't really meant to come back. His plan was to give it a month, maybe even two. His plan was to come back and resume life like it had been before he had ever even known Y/n existed. His mind had other plans.

He had tried to find another target, occupy himself with a new victim. There was something unsatisfying about it, he couldn't quite get his head in the game. Every time he went to trail a potential victim, he heard their voice ringing out in the silence of his mind.

There you are.

Alastor had been killing for about three years now. He had a good number of victims under his belt and was in no ways a newbie. Even back when he had been one, no one had ever caught him out like that before. There had been a couple close calls, sure. There always were but waiting for him? Thwarting his plans repeatedly? Beating him at his own game?

"I thought I told you to leave me alone."

Alastor looked up from his glass of whiskey, smiling politely up at Y/n. He could feel the anger radiating off them in waves.

"Mimzy would be rather sad if I just up and disappeared like that, no explanation."

He caught sight of her across the open space and waved. With a bright smile, Mimzy waved back before returning to the conversation she had been embroiled in. Alastor turned back to Y/n.

"Oh, wouldn't you hear that? You're getting sober. Congratulations."

"Ah, but there is still the music and that wonderful new singer who came down from up north not too long ago."

Y/n took a deep breath, calming themselves.

"It's not that hard of a question to answer. Or at least, it shouldn't be for most people. What, are you on the run from the cops? I heard life is oh so dangerous in those big cities up there, after all. Maybe part of the reason was you."

"If I answer your question, will you leave me alone?"

Alastor was silent for a short moment before he replied.

"If I like the answer? Sure. I'll leave you alone."

In a single, sharp movement, Y/n dragged the stool beside him out and sat down. Tapping their fingers on the table, they got the bartender's attention and ordered themselves a drink.

"You want to know why I left New York?" they hummed thoughtfully, "It's because of guys like you."

A shock of sudden nerves fought through Alastor's system. Did they somehow know? After all this time, had someone figured it out? After just under two months?

"Guys like me? What ever on earth do you mean?"

"You know, pretty boys. Pretty boys who turn out to be creepy boys that don't know the meaning of the word 'no.'" (match struck paper, match remained unlit.)

It wasn't the first time Alastor had been called pretty or handsome or something of the like. In fact, he knew he was pretty. It was part of why the whole ruse worked. Normally, however, when people told him he was, it was accompanied by far too much blushing and looks to the side. Y/n held his gaze firmly the whole time.

"So, you're escaping an ex? A jaded lover?"

"A jaded 'someone-who-watched-me-perform-once-and-decided-it-meant-we-were-married'? Yeah."

The bartender placed the drink in front of Y/n. They picked up the glass, downing it in one go. They grimaced.

"You like my answer?"

"Hmmm... no." Alastor grinned, ear to ear, "I don't think I do."

Y/n sighed.

"What is it you want from me?"

Alastor's brow furrowed in confusion. He was very good at keeping the inside from showing on the outside. The question had just caught him so off guard, or maybe it was something about Y/n that had him on his toes, he couldn't help it. They kept seeming to make his head spin.

"Want from you?"

"Money? Sex? Fame? A fall guy? What."

"I don't want anything from you." (match struck paper, match remained unlit.)

Y/n eyed him suspiciously. The answer had been automatic. Alastor himself was struggling to comprehend the words that had left his mouth. He wanted to kill them, right? What he wanted from them was their life, right? That was what he had been working for over all these days, fighting for. He knew it was true so why did the statement not feel like a lie as it had traveled from his tongue?

"Yeah right." Y/n placed their hands on the bar, pulling themselves to stand, "I totally believe that."

"Just your time, Songbird. Just your time."

They turned to him.

"I don't understand you."

"You don't have to. I don't understand you either."

They paused.

"It frustrates me." Y/n admitted, "Who even are you? I don't know anything except your name."

Alastor gave their now empty chair a pointed look. Y/n stood in contemplation for a few seconds before they nodded their head once, seemingly to themselves, and took their seat once again. Confidently, they tapped two fingers on the lip of their empty glass.

"Another."

(match strikes paper, match lights.)

Alastor was the match, Y/n was the paper. The club stopped being kindling the moment the pair took their conversation outside its boundaries for the first time, about a month or so later. For a while, there was no kindling, there was just match and paper. Alastor liked it that way.

It had been hard enough to come to terms with the fact that he really did have no interest in killing them anymore. That the moment such an idea occurred, he could see them in his minds eye, smiling or picking at the hem of their shirt the way they did when they were nervous.

The kindling reappeared when Alastor realized the match had been struck in the first place. That was a whole other thing. The friendship suddenly seemed easy, the loss of bloodlust directed toward them was like nothing in the face of a realization like that. Once he recognized the flame, Alastor stopped being a match and Y/n stopped being paper. The match became the little flutter of their stomachs when they caught sight of one another, the tension of the moments where they could make contact. Y/n and Alastor were kindling now and they were standing oh so very close to that dangerous flame.

It was Alastor's sleeve that caught fire first. It happened when they had gotten caught in the rain. Y/n had opened their umbrella and, seeing Alastor had none, insisted he join them in its cover. Alastor had, of course, refused. With a roll of their eyes, they had grabbed his hand and yanked him forcefully into place beside them. Alastor hadn't realized they had only touched once, when they first shook hands, until Y/n's skin made contact with his once again.

The worst part about it all, was that it made sense. It made so much sense. They were quiet, contemplative, and calculative. Before long, being with them felt like being with an extension of himself in an odd way. Alastor couldn't quite describe it, he didn't have the words.

Y/n always seemed to notice things no one else did. When Alastor had forgotten his umbrella the next three or four times it had rained, they had confronted him.

"Almost like you're doing this on purpose." they had hummed softly.

Though they didn't look at him, Y/n knew Alastor was blushing.

"Shut up."

The next thing to catch had been Y/n's collar. Y/n had been chatting with him, sharing a drink before their set and they had lost track of time. At the sound of the stage manager, Alastor still did not know his name, beginning their introduction to the stage, they had jumped up in fright, hurriedly tightening their tie which they had loosened in the casual atmosphere. Noticing that the action had caused part of their collar to fold awkwardly, Alastor had gotten to his feet as well. With a gentleness he had not made use of since his mother died, he had fixed Y/n's collar.

"Wh-" they had stopped mid question, having realized what he was doing.

His hand lingered on their collar. Y/n's eyes traveled up his arm, at last meeting his own.

"Thank you."

Those big wide eyes, full of curiosity and comfort. Alastor could get lost in those.

"Y/n!" the stage manager announced.

"Shit!" they exclaimed and the magic of the moment was broken as they pulled themselves away.

All it took was that. It wasn't much but, fire has a way of working with what it has. When a few days later Y/n had stepped out into the street without looking, being too caught up in the story they were telling Alastor, and he had pulled them back just as a car passed, it was too late. The house couldn't be saved, the flames had gone too far. A few blocks later, after thanking him, Y/n had realized they were still holding hands. They stopped, pulling Alastor to a halt beside them.

"What are we doing?"

"We're going for lunch. Are you quite alright? You were the one who sugge-"

"No, Alastor. I mean: what are we doing?"

Alastor followed the path of their eyes to their interlaced fingers.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

There was a pause. The world turned around them.

"I don't... I don't know if I can do this anymore."

Alastor took a deep breath before braving the sight of their bewildered and slightly saddened face once again.

"I said all I wanted was your time."

"That's the problem."

Y/n let go of his hand, running their own through their loose hair.

"That's the problem, Alastor." they said again.

"What is?"

Y/n had a habit of telling him the most serious things eye to eye with a stoney demeanor. He was surprised to see them break from this confident custom of theirs as they looked away, their arms wrapping protectively around themself.

"I want more. I want you to want more."

Alastor was stunned, he was speechless.

"I... I'll see you tomorrow, Al."

Before they could make it more than a step away, Alastor grabbed their shoulder, spinning them to him. Y/n looked up at him, confusion painting their features with the most delicate brush.

Alastor struggled, he fought. Still, there were no words.

"Don't you get it?" he asked, "I want your time. Y/n, I want you."

Alastor kept finding himself in trickier and trickier situations. First there had been trying to kill them, then the hurdle of not wanting to kill them. Friendship had given way to its own bag of worms and now that they were more than friends?

He had thought that it all would stop. He had thought that if things ever worked out the way they had, everything would be okay. He had forgotten his nature.

At first, hiding the killings was just as easy as it had been before. It did not stay that way. Alastor was good at hiding things, always had been. That wasn't the issue. What was the issue was that he cared about Y/n, he didn't want to hurt them. Keeping secrets... well, his mother had always told him that no one ever fools anybody. His mother was a wise woman. His mother had been right.

Y/n had stopped by as a surprise. They had a home cooked meal in a basket and a bag over their shoulder full of records they thought he would like. When they stepped into the foyer of Alastor's large, garden district home, they had called their usual greeting.

Alastor's heart had stopped at the sound of their voice. He froze, his cleaver still firmly wedged between the shoulder and chest of the man he was chopping into pieces for easier disposal. Hoping it was his mind playing tricks on him, he waited. They called again.

"Al! I have a surprise for you! The surprise is me! And also? I made you dinner. Come out! I know you're home!"

Under any other circumstances, them showing up like this would have filled him with unbridled joy. However, it wasn't any other circumstances. It was these circumstances. Alastor was covered in another man's blood. There was a body just a few rooms from his beloved. Either way, they would find out the truth. They were a nosey thing, always so inquisitive.

"Alastor!" he heard them call again.

They were closer now, much closer. He watched in a mixture of horror, despair, and a twinge of excitement as the doorknob jiiggled.

"Alastor?"

How would Y/n react to such a sight? Would they cower in fear? Was their love alone enough to hold them here, to tie them to him in loyalty? Would they run to the cops? Would they cry? Would they ask to help? Would he have to kill them too?

It was sickeningly delightful, all the unknowns. His heart pounded violently in his ears. The door swung open.

"There you are!"

Ravenous, that was the word. Not in the way where everything dissolves, leaving only the object of your affection. Not in the way that someone is controlled by desire. Hungry in the way fire eats paper, in the way kindling catches light. Starved in the way that leads to a progressive repeated sense of the word, a starving. A constant state of being famished that turns into a well loved and cared for blaze. Alastor burned.

"My dear! How wonderful to see you."

----

TAGS:

@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet @reader3 @lazygirlfanfic0-0 @kahlan170 @wendyphan01203-blog @fairyv-ice @clarakainda @lunaramune @mcueveryday @luxky-aish @peterpankat @corvid007 @juskonutoh @simpingsohard @sethianaa @gabile18 @slytherin4ever @skyeliteratures @zombiesnips-blog

Sorry if the end made you angry,,, I just think the not knowing is so much more fun!

Also the song is "Always" by Irving Berlin.

#hazbin hotel #x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #x reader fics #fic writer #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x gn reader #alastor x gn!reader #gn reader #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral reader #gender neutral pronouns #alastor imagines #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor fanfiction #human!alastor #human!alastor x reader #the radio demon x reader #radio demon x reader #the radio demon #radio demon

[ikigaisvt]

Everything Everywhere All at Once

You have always loved Vernon and that much he knows. What he doesn't know is that you love him more than a best friend probably should. He also doesn't know you're virgin; but that has no correlation, right? Or does it?

What you don't know about him? Well, he's in love with you too. And surprise, surprise, he's a virgin too.

pairing: reader x vernon, she/her!reader x vernon, virgin!reader x virgin!vernon, inexperienced!reader x somewhat experienced!vernon, bottom!reader x top!vernon (but no real power dynamics) words: 3.9k content: smut, fluff, slight angst warnings: dirty talk (subtle), begging, praising, fingering, first time for mcs, protected sex, kinda love making, very sappy tbh, vernon is vry horny, they're desperate for each other, petnames (for reader: babe, baby, sweetheart, my girl, girlfriend / for vernon: babe, baby, boyfriend), vernon is called pretty, slight angst ig?, reader wears lingerie note: MINORS/AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DNI. i first thought of this idea after playing a silly kpop dating game with my bff and i got vernon as my best friend and first time,,, i thought it fit him all too well so i decided to write it! you absolutely don't have to know the movie EEAAO to read this, it's absolutely not related to its story. the last paragraph of the fic is inspired by a quote from EEAAO which i'll put here "of all the places i could be, i just want to be here with you." (same quote as on the banner). also, once again, shout out to @homerunhansol for hyping me up while i was in the process of writing this and for being so excited! this one is for you, my fav dolly 🫶

You love Vernon. You really do. You don't think you could have lived your life without him and thanks god you didn't had to. You often talk about being soulmates with each other; how the feeling of being together transcends anything else. Any love you have ever felt feels so little compared to what he makes you feel.

And people must be thinking how lucky you are to have such a wonderful partner.

But here's the problem: Vernon is your best friend and you have been in love with him for as long as you can remember.

As Vernon looks at his best friend sat next to him, on his couch, in his dorm, he wonders how a situation can feel so blessed and yet so cursed. He truly thinks being your best friend is the greatest gift in his life; you are an amazing friend, you never fail to support him and let him know how precious he is to this world. You understand every single one of his obsessions, from movies to cats to tacos. Despite all of this, you will forever – at least he thinks so – a source of hurt for him. Vernon has been in love with you for as long as he can remember and that's a lot of time. You have always been part of his life, just like his love for you has always been here, rooted deep in his heart, never swaying or moving aside for anyone else.

He knows it's all because of this love that he's still a virgin. He also knows that he probably should have gotten over it by now and lose his virginity with the numerous girls who have tried to get with him. He truly knows all this and yet he cannot get over this deep-rooted emotion he feels when you look at him, just as you are doing right now.

"Vernon? Earth to Vernon?" you say, waving your hand in front of his eyes, "Are you even listening to me?" you ask him, chuckling.

"Sorry, was up in my head for a sec." he answers, turning to give you his full attention.

"Let me guess, were you thinking about Everything Everywhere All at Once, again?" you tease him in a smile.

"No, I wasn't," he says, frowning a little, "It wasn't anything important." It was important.

"Okay, if you say so!" you tell him cheerfully, "Anyway, as I was saying, I was on a date with this boy and you know what was one of his first question?" you ask him, waiting for his answer which comes in a shake of his head, "If I was a virgin!" you say, dropping your hand in a dramatic way, "When I told him I was still one, he bolted out of that café-"

"Wait, you're still a virgin?" Vernon asks, completely surprised at the news. If there was someone who could pulled anyone, it'd be you.

"Oh, you missed that part too?" you tell him, still annoyed at the memory of said boy, Vernon nodding again, too shocked to let any words out, "yeah I confessed to- no I mean, I broke the news like 5 minutes ago. What you were thinking about must have been really important. Anyway, now I’m thinking I really need to get rid of my virginity card because it's blocking every relationship for me."

"But how can you get rid of it? It's not like you're going to jump on the first boy who's slightly interested in you?" he says, in disbelief at your words, "Right?"

"No! Of course not," you say trying to calm down your nerves at what you're about to say, "That's why I was thinking about this- What if you become my first time?" you finally throw as Vernon takes a sip of his coke, making him choke on it.

"What?" he answers in a strangled voice.

"Listen to me before you say no, please!" you beg, your hands joined in front of you, "I just- I trust you and I love you and you are definitely experienced," I am definitely not, Vernon thinks to himself, his cock already straining in his pants at the thought of even touching you, "And I can't think of anyone else better than you for this." you conclude, looking desperately in his eyes for any sign that you did not scared him away.

"This is a crazy idea, Y/N." his voice still hoarse from the coke incident.

"It really isn't," you fight back, "We don't have to talk about it to anyone. It will just be between me and you."

"Do you really trust me with this?" he asks you, pondering about the idea. if I say yes, when I say yes, it will be for me only, Vernon says to himself. So selfish. "If we do this, I have one request." Vernon tells you, already knowing his answer.

"Anything you want." you tell him, already eager to please. Cute.

"You have to watch Everything Everywhere All at Once with me." he asks, making this easier on purpose – if he’s true to himself he’s doing it mostly for him rather than you.

It's a few days later, when you scrubbed every inch of your skin that you and Vernon meet up – in your apartment (as it is roommate free) so you can, quite literally, fuck around. If someone told you months ago, you'd be doing this with your best friend, you wouldn’t believe them.

When Vernon walks in your apartment, you can see the anxiety on his face and in the way he holds himself. You’re starting to think you have broken your best friend with your proposition.

"You good?" you ask him, getting a hold of his hand, making him jump out.

"Y-Yeah! I'm fine," he tells you, his cock hardening already hardening against his pants for you.

"Come on," you say as you give him your hand, leading him to the bedroom.

When you both go into your room, Vernon notices how it is cleaner than any other day, no clothes lying on the floor (even though that will not last) while your bed is done nicely. You sit down at the foot of the bed, Vernon still standing in front of you.

"How- How do we process?" Vernon asks you, his knees shaking slightly.

"We don't have to do this, you know?" you say softly, "Maybe it was a bad idea after all." you mumble.

"No, no, no," he tells you hastily, falling on his knees to get to eyes level with you, "It's fine. I want to do this." he says, holding your hands tightly. "Do you?"

"Yeah, I want to do this too." you say, looking up at him with doe eyes.

"That's good to know," he chuckles slightly, stroking your hand with his thumb, "Can I kiss you?"

"Hm, you can." The nerves starting to get to you too, before easing up when Vernon gets a hold of your hand.

He leans in slowly at first, so you can back out at any moment but when he feels your hand squeeze his in a you can kiss me, he slams his lips to yours. He feels your hands move to his shirt, grabbing it tightly. After a few seconds of a sweet kiss, you part, feeling the emotion of finally sharing a kiss settle down in the pit of your stomach. You hide your face in his neck, whining softly.

"What is it?" he whispers, rubbing your back over your shirt.

"Nothing, 'm fine." you mumble, raising your head slightly, kissing at his jaw, making him shudder. You make your way back to his mouth, leaving a trail of wet kisses along the way. Vernon hisses at each one, feeling sensitive already, his cock getting harder every time your lips touch his skin.

"Can I kiss you again?" you whisper against his lips.

"Of course," he says as he gets up, "Come on, lay down for me."

"Y-Yeah, okay."

"Good." he says as he gets onto the bed, holding himself up above you.

"Come here," you mumble softly, raising your arms to touch him, "please."

Vernon lowers himself, your nose touching, as you close the space between your lips, opening your mouth slightly. You moan quietly when he starts to kiss you harder as if he wanted to do this his whole life. If only you knew.

As the kiss gets even more heated, you start to play with the hem of his shirt, wanting him to get it off so you can feel him completely.

"Want me to get this off?" he asks you, trying to keep it together for your sake. After all, you think he has experience.

"Yeah," you breath out, "I can take mine off too." you whisper softly.

"it's okay, you don't have to," he utters, sitting up on his heels, "Anything you're comfortable with."

"I want to." you tell him, looking up with shiny eyes.

"Alright, baby." he answers before pulling up his shirt, revealing his toned torso, blushed a light pink.

"You look so pretty-" you sigh out, laying your hand on his stomach, feeling his happy trail under your palm.

"T-Thank you." he mumbles, reaching out for your shirt in a sign that he wants to see you too. Your shirt gets pulled off in a few seconds, revealing a pretty baby pink bra, made mostly of lace.

"Fuck- You look so good," he moans out, his pants getting tighter at every passing second, “Is this for me?" he asks in a low voice, reaching out for your chest, almost hissing – as you moan – at the sensation of the lace under his fingers, as if it burns him.

"Hm, yeah," you admit in a small voice, "Wanted to be pretty for you- It's a matching set, too." you moan out at the way he plays with your covered tits. He must have done this to so many girls, you think to yourself, and you feel the tears welling up in your eyes but you push it down. If you can have him at least once, you will take it. No matter how much it hurts.

"You're going to kill me," he whines, the desperation making the fire in the pit of his stomach grow bigger and bigger, "Can I see?"

"Yeah." you nod, feeling the shyness gather up in a blush all the way down your neck. As soon as the words are out of your mouth, he works at the buttons on your pants, chuckling slightly at the way his hands are shaking from nervousness. Once your pants slide down, Vernon gasps at the way your baby pink panties hug your pussy so well.

"It looks gorgeous- No, I mean- You look gorgeous." he sighs out, the stress making him mumble rapidly.

"Thank you," you exhale, clutching onto his hand tightly, "Why are you so nervous? You already did this. I’m sure you know what to do."

"Well- I know what I’m doing b-but only up until this point." he mumbles under his breath, finally confessing to being a virgin too.

"What do you mean?" you ask, not quite understanding the situation.

"I mean- I already did all this and some more. I already used my fingers on someone but-" he chokes out, the words not quite wanting to form in his throat, "I’m a virgin too."

"Oh." you say softly, shocked that your best friend – whom you are deeply in love with and who's extremely hot, is a virgin too. He softly lets go of his hold on your hand, understanding that you might want to back out of your arrangement. After all, this is not what you were expecting.

"I’d understand if you don't want to keep going." he utters.

"Hey," you interject gently, holding his hand once again, "Can I know why?"

He sighs out; "Maybe one day I will tell you." In a very very very long time.

"Okay, that's fine," you smile, "It doesn't matter anyway."

"No? It doesn't?" he asks, surprised.

"No, it doesn’t. I want you," you reply, looking up at him, a pleading look across your face, "And I’m so wet. You can't just leave me like this."

"Fuck- Okay," he murmurs, knowing you want him and not his experience making this whole situation way different, "What can I do? I don't want to do something you don't want."

"Will you touch me? Please?" you ask, your hands softly touching his back, goosebumps appearing on his skin.

"Can you open your legs for me, baby?" he asks, his hands pushing your legs open gently. You fall open at his might, Vernon seeing your pretty panty with a wet patch already showing.

"Shit baby- You're so fucking wet for me already."

"i told you so," you whine as your hips buck at him, "Will you touch me n-" you choke out, not even being able to finish your phrase that his fingers meet over your panties, rubbing your clit in a circle motion. Your moans fill the room pretty soon and its only music to Vernon’s ears.

"You sound so good for me- you're driving me crazy." he tells you, his cock pressing against the harshness of his pants' seam making him groan out. He knows he already ruined his briefs from how much pre-cum is oozing from his cock.

"Shit- Vernon," you say, choking out on your moans, "Just get rid of my panties, please."

"Y-Yeah, of course, sure," he mumbles, panicking at the thought of seeing your pussy in full light. He tugs at your panties, your hips raising to help him get it off, "You look so pretty," he says, the second it's off, already teasing your hole with one finger, "Everywhere. You look so pretty, everywhere." he rectifies, blushing deeply. "I’ll start slow, okay? Tell me if it hurts or you want me to stop."

"Don't worry," you say as you grasp at his other hand, intertwining your fingers together, "I will." you whisper, bringing your intertwined hands to your lips, kissing his knuckles.

He slowly thrust his index, feeling your warmth hugging him tight, making him wonder how the fuck are you even gonna take his cock.

“You good, babe?” he tells you, breathless, brushing your hair out of your face messily.

“Yeah- feels so good.” you say, in a high pitch, already choking on pleasure. “You can move. I- can take it.” you assure him, closing your eyes, letting your body fall into the slow rhythm he settled for.

Vernon works you open slowly, your hips bucking up slightly at the sensation after he adds a second finger.

“You’re so tight, sweetheart,” he says, your walls clamping around his fingers, “How are you even going to take me?” he mumbles under his breath as he never stops his movements, bringing you so close to the edge.

“I’m so close, please-” You beg, wanting to fall off the edge already. Your hand grips his even harder, wanting to feel him all at once.

“You can come whenever, okay? Just let me know,” he replies, adding pressure to your clit with his thumb, “I might need to prepare my heart to see my pretty girl cum.”

“Stop being so silly,” you say, short of breath, “you might kill the mood.”

“I’m not silly,” he says out loud but as you fall of the edge he adds, “I’m just in love with you.” quietly, thinking you will not hear it with the fog shortening all of your sensations but your sense of touch. You feel Vernon everywhere; in the depth of your brain, thoughts of him dazing everything for you and also in the beating of your heart, how it slows down when his breath gets caught in his throat and how it speeds up when he utters a word, especially when he confesses of being in love with you. Your pleasure keeps going up and up, thinking of how he’s in love with you as much as you’re in love with him, until it starts to goes down and you realize he doesn’t know you heard him and that you love him too.

“Me too.” you whisper, once you catch your breath, as if loving him is still a shameful secret that should never be brought into daylight.

“This is not the kind of things people say after their first orgasm.” he utters as he rubs at your hips, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m in love with you too.” you clarify, bringing your hand up to the hair falling into his eyes as shock can be read on his face.

“Y-you heard me?” he answers quietly, his world slightly crumbling around him as his brain didn’t register your words just yet.

“Yeah, I did.” you chuckle slightly as your rub at his hand, waiting for realization to hit him. Realization that you love him too.

“Shit- this is so ba-” he starts, before cutting himself off, “did you just say you’re in love with me too?”

“Yeah, I did.” You repeat, amusement showing on your face.

“Oh. Oh.” He utters, happiness making its way on his face as quickly as pink tint his cheeks, “Do you, really? You’re not just saying this, right? It’s not an in-the-moment thing? You really do, right?” he babbles fast, nervousness still present within his heart – and in his voice.

“Vernon, baby,” you say, grabbing his face in your two hands, stroking his cheeks, “I’ve been in love with you since the first time I got to learn about love. This is the cheesiest thing I can probably say but it’s the truth. You’re who taught me love, who made me realize I’d never settle for someone who loves me less than you do. Trust me when I say I love you; I do, in every way. As a best friend and as a girl who thought she was in an unrequited love all of her life.” you confess, hoping it can ease his nerves – mostly so he can fuck you. You want him even more, now.

“Do you know you just made this whole thing way hotter, now?” He mumbles, redness still covering his cheeks – and even his torso.

“By confessing my undying love for you?” you giggle, your hands resting on his shoulders, playing with his hair at back of his neck, “I’m glad then, baby.”

“Do you want to keep doing this?” he asks, leaning down to kiss at your neck, leaving a trail of kisses from one side to the other as your hands wrap around his shoulder, whining at the way he’s so eager to please you.

“Baby- yeah, please,” you plead, “I want you.”

Vernon groans slightly at your desperation, thinking that maybe all along you wanted to have him and not just to have someone take your virgin card. Vernon keeps leaving kisses along your neckline, your collarbones, your jaw, slowly working you two up again; you, pleased by the sensation of his warm mouth marking your body forever and him, thrilled to please you as he hears your sweet whimpers begging him to fuck you. He detaches himself from you, despite your whines making him want to grab you in his arms and never let you go, to take a condom from his jean’s back pocket. He climbs on the bed again, sitting on his heels as he puts the condom on, while you watch him resting on your elbows.

“Are you ready?” Vernon asks as he finds his place over you again, opening your legs slightly with his hand while you lay down again.

“Hm, I am,” you whisper, brushing his hair back, “Are you?”

“Y-yeah,” he says, offering his hand to you in a please hold me, “take a deep breath for me, okay? I read it can sting but we will go slow, okay?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, “I trust you.” you add before he pushes his tip inside. He keeps going so he fully settles in you, your pussy clenching around him as your hand squeezes his.

“You’re okay?” he asks, nuzzling his nose against your cheek before leaving a full of love kiss against it.

“Hm, j-just give me a minute.” you utter out, leaning into his touch against your cheek.

“You feel so good around me, my girl.” he whispers as he moans out loud at the way you clench around him at his words.

“Y-you can move.” you tell him, feeling your slight pain subside, only for pleasure to replace it.

As soon as he settles a gentle rhythm, you can feel his pleasure building up as he moans out louder at every passing second, your whines mixing with his, your pleasure sitting in the pit of your stomach.

“Babe- fuck, I’m not gonna last long,” he whines, loving the way you tighten around him, “You feel so good- fuck, you’re so good for me.” he mumbles incoherently, pleasure taking over his every cells.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” you whimper, “you can cum, cum for me, cum for me, baby,” you tell him, holding him as he plops against your chest, his hip giving one last push as he comes, burbling against your shoulder – a mix of moans, I love you’s and thank you’s.

You rub his back for a few minutes, waiting for him to come down his high, feeling his breath hit your neck every time he exhales. His heart, which you feel strumming against your chest, slowly calm down before he pulls out of you and gets up to get rid of the condom. He’s quickly back on the bed, holding himself over you, his face still harboring a pretty hue of red, drops of sweat still showing at his hairline.

“You look so pretty,” you whisper, looking up at him with stars in your eyes, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he whispers, a deeper shade of red creeping on his cheeks, “you didn’t come.” He mumbles under his breath, a slight pout making its way on his lips.

“It’s okay,” you mumble, slowly pushing him back so you can straddle him, “we have a whole life now, don’t we?” you laugh, kissing his cheek before getting up, “Come on! We need to shower.”

It’s only after a shared shower and countless kisses that you find yourself under the sheet again your head resting against his naked chest. You gently play with his fingers as it rests over the sheet, his other hand lightly rubbing at your bare back, giving you goosebumps all over.

“What now?” he says quietly, as if he expects you to let him slip through your fingers.

“Now, you can call me your girlfriend,” you chuckle slightly, knowing he doesn’t how to go about the new relationship, “and I’ll call you my boyfriend.” Vernon giggles at your corniness, loving how you can ease up his nerves so quickly.

“Okay, girlfriend. What do you want to do for our first date?” he asks after leaving a kiss on the top of your head.

You think for a few seconds, still playing with his fingers as he rests his chin on your head, before you sit up quickly, turning around to face him.

“I know, I know!” you say loudly, almost jumping up and down from excitement.

“Okay, babe,” he says, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, “care to share a thought?”

“Let’s have watch Everything Everywhere All at Once as a first date!” you tell him, proud of your idea.

“Oh, didn’t I choose my girl well?” he says before grabbing your arm, making you fall down in his embrace again.

No matter what the future holds for you and Vernon, you both know that despite all the places you could be, you both just you want to be with each other. In every world. In every timeline. And in every universe.

thank you SO much for reading! remember that likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated so don't hesitate if you liked it 🫶

#seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen one shot #seventeen fics #seventeen reactions #svt smut #svt x reader #vernon smut #vernon x reader #vernon scenarios #vernon imagines #vernon one shot #vernon fics #sammy's works

[moonsaver]

Hi! It’s @pix3lplays! (On anon because I have another account and I can’t switch which account I’m asking from haha)

I wanted to say thanks for being so nice when I responded to your comment on one of my posts~I really appreciated what you said hehe, definitely made me feel bit more confident and inspired me to keep writing :)

So I thought I’d throw an ask out since requests are open~

If you’re not interested no problem but I’ve thought about it a little and I thought maybe you’d have some thoughts.

Yandere!Sunday when his darling somehow gets seriously hurt, how do you think he’d feel, what would he do?

Personally I think he’s a complete control freak already when it comes to reader, so it just gets WORSE…ANYWAYS I wanna hear YOUR thoughts if you’re interested in the prompt hehe~ also if you’ve already talked about this oops I must’ve missed it, sorry in advance-

But yeah thanks so much, it was really cool to talk to you, take care of yourself, please!!

Hello Pixel! Thank you for sending in this ask, you're very sweet haha <3 i like your writing and im glad i helped you become more confident in it. Also,same issue here, i cant send asks from this account specifically, so i use anon or just use my personal blog to send asks.

Anyways, onto the request,

Ooh, my Yan!Sunday brain is ticking.. he really is an absolute control freak, and is a bit of a mess when he sees you seriously injured. A miscalculation, ignorance, negligence, or perhaps just.. an oversight from his part? Whatever the reason is, he's in high-drive now, and absolutely stressed about it. He only has a worried and distant look on his face, and at this stage he's prone to easily snapping at anyone, but his mind would be on a completely different level of stress. How dare they? How dare anyone lay a filthy inch of a finger on you? To stain you with their sins, and to breach your skin in such a grotesque manner.. he's absolutely enraged.

He insists on tending to you himself personally, unless it's so serious paramedics have to be involved. Stays by your side until he cant, sitting on the egde of the bed, body turned halfway to face you, fingers ghosting the edge of your face with tenderness.

However, this tenderness is only limited to your recovery period.

After you wake up or recover a bit, practically any freedom you would have had is gone. Completely.

Scolds you, borderline yells at you, holds you still with a deathly tight grip on your arms, forcing you to look into his eyes. This happened because you left. This happened because you were out of his watch. This all happened because of your freedom. Don't you dare even bother mentioning going out anywhere. You will be surveillanced almost all the time. He spends a suffocating amount of time next to you, harshly spitting back whenever you try to protest or reason with him. His words aren't gentle at all, and you're getting on his nerves. Perhaps he should just look over you himself, force you into a borderline coma in the dream fluid, and deal swiftly with the perpetrators.

Robin catches wind of this at some point.. she tells you that he's just worried, and there's a lot of people that don't quite hold The Family in high regards. Just.. its okay. Let him do this.

Let him pick out your clothes, brush your hair, check your healing wounds, gently ebb the water over them as you bathe, and kiss the skin of your shoulder when both of you stay silent after another argument.

If you still continue arguing.. he doesn't have a choice. He slumps a bit, a hand coming up to massage his temple as he sighs, and tells you in a softer voice that he's terrified. The worst thing that could happen did happen. He almost lost you. Can't you just go with it and let him be assured? You're dragging it out much more than it needs to be. He's spent many sleepless nights, ideas of dreamscapes turning into nightmares as the image of your hurt face flashes in his mind. Just cooperate, for Aeons' sake.

And no one speaks after that. He emotionally blackmails and manipulates you as a sort of final resort. Surely, you'd understand. It's not like it's far from the truth anyway. He is scared. But more than that, he's enraged this happened in the first place.

Adding on more to it,

Once things calm down.. in a twisted sort of way, he realizes just how perfectly he can get you under his complete control from these events. He may even not so subtly orchestrate similar events to scare you, to keep you in check, forcing you to rely on him completely, as he swoops in at the right time, acting as some kind of a "savior". Its a sick mindset, and he's not ashamed of it. Oh dear, you were just so pleasantly compliant after that event. And it just solidifies his statement that you shouldn't be going outside anymore, or be constantly accompanied by the Bloodhound Family guards, after only a few incidents of various threat levels.

In the end, it's a cycle that repeats up until you finally give in and let him take any and all freedom you have. He sets down your hairbrush with a gentle 'clack', kisses the crown of your head, and tells you it's alright. He will take such good care of you. Just listen to him. Listen to his every word. He has your best intentions in mind. Don't think about anything, anyone. You're a smart girl, surely you understand?

#moonink #hsr #honkai star rail #hsr sunday #honkai star rail sunday #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr sunday x reader #yandere honkai star rail #yandere sunday x you #yandere sunday x reader #yandere sunday #yandere hsr sunday #yandere hsr x reader #yandere hsr x you #yandere hsr #yandere honkai star rail x reader #sunday hsr #hsr sunday x y/n #hsr sunday x you #sunday x reader #yandere headcanons #sunday x you

[teatreeoilll]

|| Blind (Gojo Satoru X Reader) ||

(Reposted from my old blog which I don't have access to anymore (thanks Tumblr), if you liked it reblogs or likes would be appreciated to get me back on track since I've lost all my followers and half my work :(

Not me getting inspired by rom-coms to write this.

The wind ruffled your hair while you walked, and the song playing through your headphones was about to reach the best part. You felt your eyes slowly closing to relish in the moment, breathing in the soft cool air. But, in the busy city streets, a moment is too long.

"Oh god, oh no! All your things! I'm so sorry -" Your shoulder still hurting from the hit you took to it, you plummeted down to collect shopping bags the man you bumped into dropped in the collision.

You put the bags gently in his arms, looking up to meet his face. His white hair sticking up from the tension of the blindfold he was wearing. "Oh - oh my god, I'm so sorry!" You fumble, "I - I'll help," you grab the bags back from his arms. Oh god, suits me fine to bump into the only blind man on this street.

"It's fine, really." The man's hands took hold back on the bags. "How can it be fine? Please! I don't think anything's damaged, we'll check later, please. Tell me where you need to go!" You insisted. "I - uh," The confusion on his face was obvious. In your mind the racing thoughts, the bitch who hurt a blind man and wouldn't even help him? How could you live with that?

You took his side and grabbed his forearm lightly. "Listen, I'm really fine -" He tries to protest. This is no time for niceties, he may be too proud to receive your help, but you'll give it either way. "Oh god, Is your arm hurt too?" You mumble, remembering your own aching limb, "Do you want to get it checked out? The hospital's not far, I swear!" The man chuckles for a moment, the smirk staying permanently on his face.

"It's fine, really. I was just going to the shop down the road, they have the best Mochi there." He announces. "Oh, I know the place!" You chime, holding both his shopping bags and arm hostage to drag him down the street. You try to walk slower at first, but he seems to have no problem adjusting to your pace.

Once you've reached the shop, you tugged softly on his sleeve to signal him to turn, propping your arm up for him to lean on while stepping over the stairs leading to the establishment, then quickly holding the door open for him. "I'll treat you, please!" You pull out a chair for him to sit on, "What do you like?" “I like girls who grab me by the hand, just to take me to my favorite place,” He laughs, his pale hands reaching to his blindfold, dragging it down until it rests on his neck.

Through his white lashes, a pair of bright blue eyes stare directly at yours, his face far more handsome than you'd expected. You put the bags down on the empty seat, a sigh escaping your lips, your hands reaching to cover your sheepish face. "So, you're not, uh -" You mumble through the uneasy feeling taking over your body.

"Blind?" He grins, "No, I'm not blind."

"You could have said something earlier," you complain.

"I tried, you wouldn't let me. You still dropped all my things you know - so how about that treat now?"

You found yourself with no choice but to agree, you sighed while standing at the register, probing through your bag for your wallet.

Just as you've received your order, three teens in similar uniforms had surrounded the man's table.

"Gojo-Sensei, are you okay? Is this your girlfriend- no, that's not possible," The girl exclaimed.

"What are you talking about, Kugisaki? That so-could-be possible!" A pink-haired boy retaliated.

#jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo X reader #satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo X you #gojo satoru x reader

[junkissed]

goodnight moon

member — boyfriend!jun x gn reader genre — fluff word count — 1.1k synopsis — jun comes home from a bad day at work and he just wants to cuddle. warnings — established relationship, pet names (baby, my love), lots of kissing & cuddling, some humor bc it's literally impossible for me to write jun without making him a little silly, they are soo disgustingly in love notes — requested by @rainbowhao on my nsfw blog @onlyhuis! this request was so sweet it only inspired fluffy thoughts so i wrote about it here on my sfw blog instead :) rereading this ask i think i may not have written it like how you wanted akshdgfj v sorry but i hope you still enjoy!

you’re on the couch, scrolling through social media as the tv plays in the background, commercials quietly advertising the latest phone and new fast food restaurants in between episodes of your show.

it’s later than usual, and you yawn, glancing at the time on your phone. your boyfriend often works late, but you always stay up to greet him when he gets home. your job allows you to make your own hours, so on nights like tonight you have no problem staying up a little later so that you can fall asleep at the same time. but that doesn’t mean the late hour makes you any less tired.

you’re just about to get up and get a snack from the kitchen to help keep yourself awake when you hear keys rattle on the other side of the front door, signalling that your boyfriend is home. you look up as he walks in and slips his shoes off, throwing his bag on the counter with a groan. 

you turn around, leaning your arms on the back of the couch. “what’s wrong, baby?”

“long day. too much work. tired,” he whines, and you hum sympathetically.

“i didn’t make anything for dinner, but i can now if you want me to,” you say, trying to hold back another yawn as you stand up from the couch.

he shakes his head as he starts to shrug off his jacket. “just wanna go right to sleep,” he pouts. he wraps his arm around your waist and brings you closer, leaning in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek. “i’ll meet you in bed, just… give me a couple minutes.”

you smile and head to the bathroom to wash your face. when you’re done you sit down on your side of the bed, checking your phone one last time before you set it aside for the night.

jun walks in not far behind you, flipping off the light when you give him a thumbs up.

he flops facedown on the bed, bouncing the mattress and wrinkling the comforter as he lands with an ‘oomph!’. 

“junnie, you’ll mess up the sheets!” you giggle at him.

he rolls over onto his side, brown hair falling across the pillow. “don’t care. we’ll mess it up anyway.” he reaches out towards you and you yelp as he tugs you across the bed into his side. “c’mere, i wanna cuddle.”

before you can do anything he’s wrapped both his arms around you, holding you tight against his chest with his head in the crook of your neck. he sighs as you immediately melt into him, and his breath is warm on your cheek.

after a moment, you pull on his arms and he whines but loosens his grip, letting you move away. but you don’t move away; instead, you shift around, pushing him to lay on his back so you can crawl on top of him.

once you’re situated laying on him, he puts his arms around you again, rubbing one hand up and down your back in gentle circles. you sit up a little, putting your weight on your elbows as you reach to play with hair, twirling his soft locks between your fingers before moving to massage his scalp. 

he sighs and his eyes flutter shut, lips unconsciously parted in a relaxed smile. “feels so good, baby, thank you,” he murmurs. you can practically feel the tension dissolving from his body, and it makes you smile.

he slides one of his hands up beneath your shirt as his fingertips begin to draw shapes on your back, and your skin prickles with goosebumps at his touch.

“let me take care of you,” you say with a smile as you lean down, leaving a feather-light kiss on his lips. “you wanna tell me about your day?” you ask, brushing strands of hair out of his face as he lifts his eyes towards you again.

“don’t wanna talk about work. want you,” he whines, and you giggle at how he clings onto you with his long limbs.

“i’m right here, my love, don’t worry.”

he lifts his chin up, puckering his lips to ask you for another kiss in his own silly way that you love so much. you give him a quick peck, just to tease him, knowing it’s not what he wants.

“babyyy,” he pouts, his brows knitting together as he sticks out his bottom lip.

“what is it, junnie?” you say, unable to hide the grin on your face.

“you’re being so mean to me,” he says dramatically as he continues to pout. “won’t even give me a nice kiss, and after the horrible, awful day i’ve had, too…”

“you’re such a dork, jun,” you say with a roll of your eyes, but you lean back down to kiss him again. this time it’s slower and gentler, his soft lips pressed against yours, drinking each other in.

after a while he pulls away, his eyelids heavy as you kiss his forehead. “love you so much, junnie,” you sigh, running your fingers through his hair.

he smiles lazily. “i love you, too, baby.”

he leans his head back against the pillow and you move away from his face, letting your mouth wander across his skin as you leave little wet kisses all down his neck. he giggles and he complains about how much it tickles, but you know he loves it.

there’s a laziness in the atmosphere as you nip at his collarbones, warm and tender like you have all the time in the world.

he hums and tugs on your arm, bringing you back up so that you’re nose to nose with him. “missed you so much today,” he says, tilting his chin a little to meet your lips.

you smile against his mouth. “i missed you too, baby. love you so much,” you mumble into him as you kiss him again and again.

eventually you rest your head in the space between his shoulder, letting your eyes close as you absently brush your fingertips over the soft skin of his cheek.

you’re so tired and so relaxed that you barely hear jun whisper “goodnight, my love.” but in your half-asleep state you feel your chest warm, your body registering the words even if your mind doesn’t. though you told him you would take care of him, somehow it’s always you who ends up being comforted by him as you drift off to sleep, laying tangled in each others’ arms. and no amount of horrible, awful work days can take him away from you.

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#kflixnet #k-labels #🌃 : june.writes #jun fluff #junhui fluff #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #jun imagines #jun scenarios #jun x reader #junhui imagines #junhui x reader #junhui x you #junhui x y/n #svt fanfic #seventeen fic #svt imagines #svt x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #m: junhui #g: seventeen #c: fluff

[cutecatlov3r]

"𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮."

kenma kozume x reader (fem)

some drabbles on your rivals to lovers relationship with kenma !

words: 1.4k

warnings/tw: all characters are 18+, college AU(?), mean! kenma, enemies to lovers, and some suggestive themes.

a/n: I just needed to write about kenma being mean to you and you being mean back, if you want I can make a smut version as well... heavily inspired by the Netflix series "The Beef", made me cry sm . like, comment, re-blog ily ! don't copy my work . not proofread .

★ As soon as he met you he despised you . He couldn't stand the sound of your annoying ass voice, all he wanted was to sit in peace . Usually he doesn't mind being around loud people but you... You pissed him off for some reason, he never wanted to be around you.

"I don't think Kenma likes me..." you whispered in Kuroo's ear. You started to sense Kenma rolling his eyes at you and scoffing every time you spoke. He annoyed you, if he had something to say, you wanted him to say it to your face .

It was so obvious you were talking about Kenma, he sat in front of you and Kuroo. You talked so loud, you couldn't even whisper silently, it irked Kenma even more.

"You're fine Y/n, everyone loves you," Kuroo reassured, patting your back, gently.

Kenma furrowed his eyebrows as he played his game. Yeah right, he can't even stand you. He would never be able to like someone so childish and annoying...

★ He hates the fact that all of his friends adored you. He knows damn well they only like you because you are somewhat attractive. He knows what you are thinking when you show up to their practices in skirts and tank tops, he knows that you're just there because you're a slut .

"Stop distracting our team, just get out of here... We don't want you here anyway," Kenma mumbled, sweat dripping from his forehead.

To be fair, you were kind of distracting Kuroo and Lev by talking to them whenever they got the chance to speak with you. But still! It infuriated you that Kenma worded it like that, it was rude!

"No need to be rude Kenma, I'm here to support my friends," you retorted, crossing your arms. you've about had it with him, you know he doesn't like you. And it pisses you off because you did nothing!

★ Kenma loathed the way his friends talk about you any chance they get. You are a cute girl, those boys just can't help themselves. Still, it makes Kenma frustrated.

"Y/n is so sweet, she made me some brownies today," Kuroo swooned. Kuroo had a little thing for you, you weren't aware of this but all of the boys knew.

"Oh yeah? Well she's planning to wear my jersey the next time we have a game," Yaku teased.

"She said she'll be cheering for me at the next game too. Only me," Lev added, punching Kuroo's shoulder playfully.

Kuroo started to visibly sulk.

"...I hate you guys... She won't be doing any of that, she's going to-"

"Can you guys please shut up? I'm tired of hearing about Y/n, that's all you guys ever talk about. It's annoying," Kenma said, his eyes glued to his phone.

★ Finally, you confronted him at a party in front of everyone. After that day, the two of you HATED each other, or so you thought. You could never see yourself being friends with him, ever.

"What the hell is your problem?! You spilled that drink on me on purpose!" you yelled, very angry at the situation. You were embarrassed, everyone saw, it made you feel like crying. You had issues when it came to having everyone pay attention to you. You only liked being around your group of friends, not the whole damn party.

Kenma did spill his drink on you but it wasn't on purpose, it was a simple accident. He bumped into you as you were dancing with Kuroo and Bokuto, causing his cup to spill on your clothes. Still, he found it amusing when he saw you get angry at the situation, so he did not apologize or even acknowledge you until you called him out.

"I didn't do it on purpose so..."

"Yes you did!" you exclaimed, Kuroo held on to your shoulder, trying to calm you down.

"Let's calm down y/n," Kuroo tried to say.

"Stop trying to defend her idiotic ways. She can handle things herself, she's not a damn baby," Kenma commented, feeling more aggravated

Kenma pinched his eyebrows together.

"What did I ever do to you?! Seriously! You're always so mean for no reason! I knew you didn't like me but holy fuck, spilling a drink on me is a bit much!"

"So bothersome... I'm going to tell you this once. I. Did. Not. You fucking idi-"

Slap!

★ After the whole slap situation Kenma saw you in a different light kind of... He still hated your guts but he did notice how strong and confident you were. He couldn't help but admire some of the good aspects of you. So instead of dreading you, he openly speaks to you, only making rude comments of course. And you did not hold back either.

"What should I wear to Akaashi's party?" you asked, showing off a few outfits to Kuroo and Bokuto. The men sat on the floor, they loved listening to your rants and their favorite thing to do is tell you what to wear.

"The black skirt is cute," Bokuto said, pointing at the skirt in your left hand.

"No way! I like the dress, it always shows off your natural curves," Kuroo added, giving you a sly wink.

You giggled at their suggestions, Kuroo and Bokuto were your favorite friends.

Kenma groaned, bored of the conversation, he was dragged there because he is Kuroo's best friend so he was forced to go wherever he went.

"Do you have an issue?" you asked, sassily, placing your hands on your hips.

"Your voice is so damn annoying,"

You pretended to gasp, gripping your chest. "How mean Kenma!... Is what I would say if I cared. I didn't even want you here so please refrain from making any unnecessary comments,"

Kenma rolled his eyes at your bratty attitude.

★ You two banter all the time, some would consider it flirting but you never saw it in that way. Mutual disrespect for each other... Yeah, only mutual disrespect.

You whined, begging Kuroo not to leave you with Kenma. He was on his way to class, if he went to class, you'd be left with Kenma.

"Please Tetsuro!" you begged, giving him the best puppy eyes you could. "Stay! Skip class! Please!!"

Kuroo smiled, he loved seeing your bratty side, it excited him. "You know I can't n/n, just stay with Kenma, I'll be done in an hour,"

You groaned. Kenma cocked his eyebrow at you.

"Trust me, I'm not happy either," he mumbled, his hands shoved deep into his sweatshirt pockets.

"Oh of course you are Kenma! I know you're in love with me, you love being around me!" you cheered, sarcastically.

Kenma visibly gagged, causing Kuroo to laugh.

★ Eventually though... The two of you were forced to be around each other more, creating an unusual bond. You both don't directly hate each other, you just don't have a super stable friendship. But! You guys can be with each other without having the mean tension.

"Sup bitch, have you seen Kuroo?" you asked, placing your legs on Kenma's lap.

He shoved them off him instantly.

"Disgusting. And I don't know where he is, I think he went to grab some snacks for movie night,"

You hummed to yourself. A happy tune was in your mind and you couldn't help but hum.

"Can you hum quieter? Holy shit, so annoying," Kenma said, pulling his own hair. Obviously he was joking.

And with him saying that, you hummed as loud as you could.

★ Uh oh... Why did he have to walk in on you changing your clothes... That just made some things weird between you two...

"Idiot, where are you-"

Your face burned with embarrassment, you were in the middle of removing your shirt in your room. Why the hell did he have to come in right now?!

The two of you just stared at each other... In complete silence, unsure how to break the awkward tension.

Luckily, Kenma slammed the door shut.

"What the fuck," he thought, taking a deep breath. "No fucking way..." he continued thinking, looking down at his pants.

Kuroo ran to the scene, worried about the door being slammed.

"What's up with you? Oh shit man you have a boner," Kuroo commented, pointing at his pants.

"No shit!"

You heard the whole conversation, shaking your head, wishing you didn't hear anything.

★ After that the two of you just teased each other, meanly, sometimes being harsh. And actually started building a friendship, not a friendly one though.

"Slut,"

"Pervert,"

"You wanted me to walk in on you," Kenma yawned, placing his hands behind his head.

The two of you were currently walking through the hallways, planning to meet up with Kuroo. This was the first time you guys spoke about the situation. It made your cheeks burn thinking about it. But... It made Kenma feel other things.

"Shut up! You probably were spying on me! You wanted to see me like that,"

Kenma shrugged. "I still think you wanted me to walk in on you,". He faked a gasp "Are you in love with me?!"

"You wish," you rolled your eyes.

That's all I have for now... Maybe I'll make a part 2, just wanted to drabble some scenarios :x

#kenma kuzome smut #kenma smut #kenma kozume #kenma x reader #kenma #kozume kenma #kenma x you #kenma hc #kenma x y/n #kenma angst #kenma drabble #hq drabbles #haikyuu #haikyuu drabbles #hq scenarios #haikyuu scenarios #kuroo tetsuro angst #kuroo tetsuro drabble

[saey707]

OMG A LEAGUE WRITING BLOG.. Honestly you’ve partially inspired me to make one!!! I love your works so far :)

But! In the meantime, the S/H comfort you wrote for Kayn was so beautiful! So I wanted something similar with Aphelios with a touch that’s a little more personal to me! if possible i’d like to request heartsteel Aphelios with his s/o (who May or May not be chubby, depending on your preference) struggling with an eating disorder? thank you in advance!

✿ Prompt: Aphelios worships you ✿

♡ champion focus: aphelios ♡ tw: reader w/ low self esteem + ed ♡ Gender-neutral reader

Author's Note: Hi, anon! ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ This was a bit of a difficult subject for me to write, but I still wanted to get something small out nonetheless! I didn't touch too much into the ed, because it is a bit of a touchy subject to me. But I still hope you like what I have in store! ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡

Aphelios knows how to read people like the back of his hand. It's one of his own personal superpowers... Or, more so a catalyst of being unable to speak.

Because of this, he is able to effortlessly observe those around him and know exactly how someone is feeling. He knows how to manipulate people to get what he wants. And worst of all, he knows when someone is lying to him or not. Including you.

That was one of the things you grew to hate about Aphelios. You hated that you could never lie to him.

It took a couple of weeks for Aphelios to realize something was wrong. It was just a matter of figuring out what it was...

You were always so confident and bright. You never cared about how anyone felt about you and never did anything to appease anyone. You did what you wanted when you wanted, which was something that Aphelios loved about you!

Aphelios couldn't help but wonder: Was it him? Did he do something wrong? He thought the two of you had a good relationship, you never had any problems before... It can't possibly be him... Maybe it's the fans? You both did recently come out as a couple! Maybe they were just jealous? Aphelios couldn't see a reason why anyone wouldn't like you right off the bat! But... Could that be the reason??

He had to investigate...

"Did you eat today?" Aphelios typed hastily before holding his phone up. You hummed in response. But he knew you were lying.

"Do you want the other half of my mooncake?" "I'm not hungry right now, Phel. but thank you!" He knew you were lying.

"We're all going to grab dinner, I'll bring you something back!" "You really don't have to! I'll find something here!" Still, he would always bring you something back.

While he was out, Aphelios took the opportunity to turn to his friends for help, which was extremely unlike him. Aphelios usually kept to himself, so it came as a surprise to everyone in the group when he asked for them to look around and see if they could find anything.

And when they did, Aphelios couldn't help but feel a wave of regret wash over him. He felt like it was his fault. He felt responsible for the way you felt. Aphelios pushed for you to have a more public relationship with him after all... In a way, he felt like was responsible for destroying your self-confidence.

But that feeling was quick to fade with Yone's reassurance. Instead, Aphelios felt angry. Not at you or himself... But at the entire world for expecting you to change.

You didn't need to change a single thing about yourself. You were nothing short of perfection to Aphelios. And he intended to remind you of it every day from there on out.

As soon as Aphelios got home, he burst through the doors, carrying 5 bags of food and a half-eaten box of chocolates he somehow swiped from the back of Ezreal's car.

"Phel..?" You were caught off guard by your boyfriend unexpectedly engulfing you in a big hug. His shoulders were shaking, giving you the surefire indicator that he was only beginning to cry.

You tried to pull away from him, but he only held on tighter.

Tears poked at the corners of your eyes. You knew.

Aphelios didn't need to speak to convey his love for you. His actions alone did that. That was one of the things you grew to love about Aphelios. You loved how he always knew the precise way to show you how much he loved you.

And you didn't realize how much you needed for him to see the issue at hand until now.

#saeybaewrites #request #headcanons #heartsteel #heartsteel aphelios #aphelios #heartsteel aphelios x reader #heartsteel x reader #aphelios lol #x reader #lol x reader #aphelios league of legends #aphelios lol x reader #aphelios league of legends x reader #league of legends x reader

[aroacebkgo]

Saw a post about you wanting welcome home requests. Dont know how old it is but.

What would wally be like as a CG???

Feb,20,2024

Caregiver Wally Darling!

A/N: OMG YAY!!! I already have a shorter more general version of this on my blog, so I’m gonna repeat myself a bit here, but that’s okay because I love this man and I really wanna talk about him.

He is such a good caregiver, I think. Like…he struggles a bit at first but he eventually gets the hang of it and does really well!

I mean. He is quite literally the host of a children’s TV show. He knows how to take care of and entertain kids.

He likes taking you out on little play dates and adventures. One of his favorite things to do is take you to the park, and you often see Julie and Sally there, so you play with them a lot. :)

He paints you a lot. You’re his muse. ❤️

Speaking of painting, if you’re down for it, he’d be happy to paint with you! Finger paint, watercolor, anything! And if not, that’s okay too! He’s fine with just using you as inspiration.

He actually made a deco paci for you one time (if you use pacifiers)! It was for your birthday. You have loved and cherished it ever since.

If you ever draw or color something for him, it immediately gets hung up on the fridge or on a wall somewhere.

He does better with calmer littles. If you’re like me and you get very sleepy randomly or very easy, he has no problem with cuddling you while you sleep if you want. He doesn’t try to sleep with you; because he can’t, and his “I’m sleeping” chant gets a lil annoying.

Barnaby is Wally’s go to babysitter, as you probably expected. Barnaby is basically your uncle. He’s the cool, fun uncle who loads you up on sugar before sending you back to your parents. And that is exactly what he does!

He is VERY cautious and protective. He baby proofs the hell out of everything.

He also does most things for you. You need to tie your shoes? He’s got it! Wanna refill your sippy cup or your bottle? That’s his job, sweetheart, don’t worry about it.

He will love any nickname you give him, “dad/daddy/dada”, “papa”, “baba”, etc.

He loves them all.

He canonically goes limp when you hug him but I’d like to think that he eventually gets the hang of it and becomes a really good cuddler. 😭

He has so much apple juice. And apples in general. Does not understand apple pie or anything with apple filling in it, though…where are the apples…where did they go?? 😥

His voice is super monotone and his face kinda is too, so he actually does super well with autistic littles. Cuz like. He gets it. Also I know Wally isn’t CANONICALLY autistic but. Erm. Yeah he is. In my mind he absolutely is.

He doesn’t do too well with tantrums. He’ll try his best to calm you down, but if that doesn’t work, he usually has to call Barnaby for help. He always feels so bad, though. He’s your caregiver, he’s supposed to know how to help…

All in all, 10/10 caregiver. Would recommend.

#age regression #agere #welcome home #Wally darling #wally darling x reader #welcome home x reader #welcome home agere #Wally darling agere

[heartkyeom]

fine line

figure skater!joshua hong x f!reader

synopsis: as a joshua fangirl, getting the chance to interview him as a teenager was an absolute dream. 10 years later with a flourishing career as a writer and a strained relationship with him, he wants to do a 10 year reunion interview about his path to the upcoming Olympics. there’s only one problem: you’re staying at his house and trying not to address your old feelings for him.

word count: 19.9k

tag list: @junhui-recs @bfwonu @huiranghaes

warnings: figure skater!joshua, writer/fangirl!reader, best friend!jeonghan, dad!seungcheol, smut, fluff, angst, some occasional skating jargon, this is a lot about the Olympics

a/n: y’all. this fic has been reworked over and over and over since spring 2022, it’s the longest fic I’ve ever done. it’s given me so much trouble and seen me through so many changes in my life. doing my final undergrad dance show, writing my undergrad capstone, finishing undergrad, and finding my first apartment. it is my baby and has grown as much as I have since march. thank you to the sports au discord for being so lovely <3 I hope you enjoy it as always and I hope you can feel how much heart I put into this! this is for @gyukult’s sports au collab + this is loosely based on the plot of the book “funny you should ask” by elissa sussman which I can’t recommend enough! title also inspired by the harry styles song ok bye lmao <3

Work isn’t particularly difficult, in your opinion. You’re used to hearing the people around you complain about how much their workload consumes them to a point of no return, but as you made your way into your first adult job as a writer, you tried to stop that from happening.

It’s not exactly easy when you have to navigate the entertainment industry while writing, but the idea of trying to craft new narratives about celebrities that the public is convinced that they know inside and out still excites you.

Even if you’re not exactly fond of whoever you’re writing about, the challenge still intrigues you. Thus, the conversations surrounding ideas for new profiles are always equal parts captivating and nerve-wracking.

“How do you feel about Joshua Hong?” Your manager asks. You look up to see her balancing her weight on the side of your desk, a neutral expression paints her face.

She knows this is a loaded question, all things considered.

“You know how I feel about him,” You blink at her before facing your computer again.

“I do, but I need an updated response considering the anniversary,” She persists. You sigh, swiveling around to face her again before responding.

“He’s great. I like him,” Your voice trails off, you try to nod to convince her, but it’s not working.

Your life has been so intertwined with Joshua Hong’s career as a professional figure skater that it’s hard to delineate life before and after him. He wasn't there, then one day he seemed to consume your life completely.

Before your start as a journalist, you ran a very well-known, albeit secretive, blog about Joshua Hong as a teenager. It was relatively harmless and safe for work, spare the occasional thirst posts sprinkled in. It mostly contained updates about the then emerging skater’s career, offering illegal torrent links for broadcasts of his performances that weren’t available worldwide and communicating with other fans about your love for him. Yet, some random post about him qualifying for the Olympics went insanely viral when you were 17, garnering over 1 million shares in under a week.

It was substantial enough to get his management's attention, and you had the opportunity to interview him not only for your blog but for a major publication for their Winter Olympics coverage series.

With two opportunities to write about him, you were able to fulfill the fan service pleas from your fellow fans for the blog and write a serious piece that made the general public interested in him from the perspective of a fan that knew the general timeline of his career.

The quick success felt like a fluke, but it led you to an undergraduate degree and a dream job as an entertainment writer at one of your favorite companies almost immediately after graduation.

He technically made your career, whether you wanted to admit it or not.

You’ve been trying to forget about the anniversary, but everyone in your life seems determined to bring it up whenever they see you.

“Well, we want you to do a 10-year reunion interview piece with him. That’s only if you want to,” Her voice was sympathetic, but you’re mainly focused on the number. It really had been 10 years, hadn’t it?

You were both incredibly established in your respective careers, him as a 5-time gold medalist with appearances at 3 Olympic Games, and you with a prolific image as a relatable yet incisive celebrity interviewer. It completely makes sense for you two to meet again, considering how much the first interview changed the trajectory of your lives.

It would feed into the nostalgia of Joshua fans that grew up alongside you as readers of your blog and new fans that clamored for any new Joshua content.

Yet, you weren’t exactly convinced.

“I mean, his team could’ve had anyone else write a big profile on him. We’re not the only website in the world with an entertainment section,” You fight the urge to bite your nails and instead choose to wring your hands together.

“He asked us to do it,” She admits.

You try not to look too shocked, but that definitely changes things. You were not close with Joshua whatsoever. Sure, he’d occasionally like your social media posts and wish you a happy birthday every year, but that was the extent of your relationship.

Your teenage self thinks it might be him looking for closure, wondering what might have happened if you stayed in touch.

Yet, you can’t let yourself dive back into the fantasy of him again.

You search for a response, but you can’t land on anything substantial. “What would I have to do?” You ask, you barely notice the unconscious habit of biting the inside of your cheek.

“Well, in addition to the profile, you can attend his practices and any private schedules he invites you to. It’s mostly up to the discretion of him and his team,” She offers and you nod. You’re good with that, you can watch him practice and go to a random professional event he’s booked for.

“He did offer something else, if you’re up for it,” She gives you a pointed look which makes you a bit hesitant.

“What is it?”

“He asked if you were open to staying at his house,” She smiled through her answer, but you’re sure your face was completely pale.

You didn’t know if you were more shocked or nervous at the idea of it. It was ambitious, considering that you haven’t spent more than a few hours in the same room with him at a time, much less stay with him.

You think you might die if you go through with it.

“He’s not serious,” You find yourself laughing in disbelief. You can’t even fathom the idea of being further sucked into Joshua’s life after so long.

“He really is. You don’t have to give me an answer right now, but within the next day or so,” She leaves your desk without giving you a chance to respond, but you revel in the opportunity to think about everything.

It’s a bit too much to wrap your head around, so much so that you don’t remember much else of the work day.

For the first time in a long time, Joshua Hong was all you could think about.

—

The more you think about the interview, the more it gives you anxiety.

All of the possible outcomes float around in your head during the commute home that you can barely enjoy the music blaring in your headphones.

Once you arrive home, you figure that you need a second opinion on the matter, so you decide to call your far more opinionated best friend for his input.

The phone only rings for a few seconds before he picks up.

“What happened?”

“Joshua wants to do this 10-year anniversary interview where I follow him around,” You sigh.

“No fucking way,” He burst into laughter, his giggles echoing loudly through the phone.

“Jeonghan, this isn’t funny,” You whine. He was probably the last person you needed to call, seeing as he almost never had a sympathetic response to your pain.

“It’s hilarious, and this is karma for trying to ignore his existence for the past 5 years,” He replies with a teasing lilt.

You hate that he’s right.

You were very proud of Joshua’s successes, in a “retired fan celebrating from a distance” sort of way. Yet, you tried to distance yourself so much from the blog that he inadvertently got caught in the crossfire. You cared about him so deeply for so long that you lost yourself in that, so you tried to cope with the state of your uneven relationship with him in your own little fucked up way.

You let out a frustrated sigh. “I just didn’t think he’d be the one to do it, you know? I thought I’d get a polite email from his assistant, not my manager telling me he wanted to do a profile.”

“That means it’s personal to him, then. That’s actually kinda charming of him,” You feel your phone vibrate, so you check the notification.

Joshua messaged you on Instagram, and from a quick glance at your lockscreen, it’s long.

Your heart drops to your stomach.

“Wait, he just messaged me,” You quickly put Jeonghan on speaker and opened the app without a second thought. You read his message out loud:

joshuahong: Hi! Not sure if you’ve heard my request yet about the anniversary profile, but I would really love it if we could make it happen. I know it’s been a really long time, but I think it’d be fun to do it again. You’ve always supported me from the beginning of my career, so it would mean a lot to me. I miss talking to you, so we would definitely be catching up in more ways than one. We’ll only do it if you’re up for it though, please don’t ghost me this time lol

“Holy shit,” Jeonghan fills the silence immediately. You were pretty much lost for words, but you managed to speak. “Holy shit is right,” You mumble to yourself.

You suddenly feel guilty for trying to bury him out of your life, especially when he clearly said he misses you.

Were you trying to set your boundaries by pushing him away or were you just being an asshole?

“I feel really stupid,” You hate that you want to cry. You can’t reckon with the fact that Joshua has wanted to reconcile for so long that he had to do this to get your attention.

At least, that’s what the selfish part of you thinks. You know the interview is so much bigger than yourself, but then again, it is a symbol of you and the years of effort you put into your blog.

“You’re not stupid, but you need to worry about what you’re gonna say. Are you gonna say yes?” He asks.

Admittedly, you do feel the pull to say yes.

“I think I might. Is that a bad idea?” Internally, you know the answer, but your insecurities need some validation.

He clears his throat before responding. “I think you’ll regret it if you say no. I think it’ll hurt you more to not have closure with him.”

You don’t think you necessarily want anything out of this besides becoming friendly with him.

You’d like to think that’s what would’ve happened if you didn’t completely ice him out.

“That’s true. It’s gonna be so hard to see him again,” A whine pulls your lips into a pout and you already know Jeonghan will protest.

“Stop talking yourself out of it. Who knows, you might end up enjoying everything,” he suggests openly.

“That’s possible. His house is supposed to be insanely big,” You shake your head at the idea of how a 27-year-old millionaire pro figure skater would be living, definitely far better than your current apartment.

“You can only know for sure if you say yes.”

“I know,” You figure you need a vacation anyways, even if it means facing some unresolved emotional baggage.

“So, you know your answer then. I need to get back to work, but don’t blow him off. Respond to him tonight or I’m not giving you the deluxe massage package gift certificate like I promised,” Jeonghan was not above threatening you into action, and this one had the right level of stakes.

“Fine, okay,” You huff out, already opening the Instagram app again to motivate you into typing a proper response.

You exchange quick goodbyes and you let yourself look, albeit for far too long, at the message again to gain some inspiration.

Before you know it, you’re sending him a formal reply.

you: Hi! You’re right about ghosting, no excuses for that so I’m sorry lol. I’ve thought about it and I’d be happy to do it, it’s been too long since we’ve talked. Let me know the timeline you’re thinking of and I’ll get my schedule figured out

You figure that’s just enough to ease your nerves. It’s not exactly as earnest as his original message, but it’ll work for now.

You even send a screenshot of the message to Jeonghan as proof for the sake of accountability and the state of your deluxe massage package gift certificate. You place your phone on your nightstand to avoid fixating on another response, letting yourself go fix dinner and get ready for bed without thinking.

It’s only when you’re about to settle into bed that you remember your phone. You reach for it and Joshua, who is somehow extremely prompt with his messages, sends you another reply 10 minutes after your message.

joshuahong: Great! We’ll start sorting out more details then. I’m really glad you said yes

He’s already trying to pull at your heartstrings and it’s working. Despite everything, Joshua has always been kind. He doesn’t just seem nice, like what most celebrities are assumed to be around other people, he’s always made sure you know he cares about you even if you hadn’t known what to do about it.

You type out another quick response before going to bed.

you: Of course, it’s gonna be a lot of fun

You hope that’s true, you hope that you’re not already in over your head with the situation. He still seems to have faith in you, so why not trust that instinct?

—

During pre-trip preparations, you found yourself talking to Joshua far more often than before.

The conversations didn’t go too deep of course, you couldn’t get everything out of him before you even had a chance to conduct the interview, but the harmless banter seemed to slowly bridge that treacherous gap left between you two.

You even thought it would make your first meeting less awkward, but that wasn’t even remotely possible. It had only taken a few days for the entirety of the trip to be confirmed by your workplace and his team, and the final itinerary made your head spin.

You would follow Joshua around for a week, primarily to his private daily practices in an effort to show his infamous dedication to Olympics training.

All while you stayed in his guest room.

You couldn’t get out of that obligation, no matter how much you tried to convince him that you would be perfectly fine staying in a luxury hotel room paid for by your employer. He was confident that you could get a better view into his life while staying at his house which you reluctantly agreed with.

His idea definitely didn’t cross any professional boundaries at all, none whatsoever! This is what he’d do as a friend if you were coming to visit anyways, right?

You were still slightly afraid to hear his voice, you weren’t exactly sure why, but you were hoping it would keep the image of him unchanged in your mind until you saw him in person again.

You knew you were heavily biased going into this situation, so why not protect your heart for a little bit longer?

joshuahong: Are you nervous about tomorrow?

you: Not really

joshuahong: Y/N, please don’t lie.

you: I’m not!

joshuahong: I’m kinda nervous to see you, though

you: Really? Why?

joshuahong: I think it’s been 6 years since I’ve seen you in person. That’s scary to think about

you: The passing of time is scary

joshuahong: Definitely. Promise to not be awkward?

you: I’ll try my best!

joshuahong: That’s not a promise!

you: Fine, I promise but you have to promise too!

joshuahong: I promise :) now get some sleep, I don’t want to hear you complain when you have plenty of time to get 8 hours of sleep

you: You’re so mean!! but you too, get lots of rest so you can give me a good show tomorrow

He doesn’t reply to that last message, only using a heart emoji reaction instead.

The weight of the trip suddenly sits on your heart, and the main objective of writing an exceptional interview is somehow the least of your worries now.

—

The flight to Korea is unceremoniously long, you have far too much time and anxiety to let yourself fall asleep. You go through all the Netflix episodes you downloaded for the flight, finish the book that’s been sitting on your shelf for ages, and write down some preliminary notes about what you’d like to cover in the interview.

You decide to keep your ideas vague so that you’re not overexerting your brain during the flight.

First, a general discussion of the Olympics. That’s the main appeal of the article, seeing what his main preparations are like and hopefully getting some better insight about his feelings surrounding everything.

The second is his recovery from his last Olympics injury. He landed the most ambitious jump of his free skate program completely wrong, breaking his ankle in the process. It was during the last event of his Olympics run for that year, and he still placed third in the men’s individual skate program overall, but it’s been a sore subject for him in most interviews he’s done since the incident.

The footage is as agonizing as you can imagine, but the fact that he finished the routine at all is stunning. You figure that you can get some in-depth reaction about that moment and the subsequent recovery, more than the extremely media-trained answer he’s given about it before.

Lastly, the prospect of retirement. He’s said almost nothing about his plans after the upcoming Olympic games, but Olympics experts are convinced that the news is looming over his upcoming appearance.

You knew better than to ask him outright about it because he definitely wouldn’t give you a straight answer. From watching his recent interviews, you realized that Joshua has a tendency to go into a subtle apathetic mood when the interviewer hits something he’s not comfortable with. You hope that you can breach the subject without things going completely south. This interview was supposed to hit some darker aspects of the state of Joshua’s career, but you never wanted to make him uncomfortable.

Other than those topics, anything else he wanted to divulge to you would be a bonus. You wanted him to have a reasonable amount of control over what would go into the interview, so you’re not opposed to adjusting your interview material if needed.

The thought of his reactions to your questions swarms your brain in a frenzy, but you know you’re getting ahead of yourself.

The flight lands without any problems and you’re still trying to figure your thoughts out by the time you’re picking up your suitcase from baggage claim.

You’re soon greeted by Joshua’s driver, a tall man who holds a sign with your name printed on it, nodding in affirmation when you confirm your identity with him. He’s distantly kind to you, but it’s enough to put you at ease for the moment. You’re escorted to a tinted black SUV with a gentle hand opening the back car door for you. Your suitcase is carefully stowed into the back of the truck while you click your seatbelt into place across your lap.

You don’t realize how tired you are until the car starts moving. You didn’t bother to orient yourself with the time once you got off the flight, but you figure it’s somewhere between late morning and early afternoon by the way the clouds create a gray atmosphere in the sky.

Nonetheless, looking out the window is enough to pull you into sleep, and you indulge yourself in a short nap, barely considering where you may be headed.

—

It turns out that Joshua wanted to meet you at his home rink first which explains why you were waking up to the sight of a massive stadium.

You were slightly annoyed that you weren’t at a stable location yet, your body started to feel vaguely sick at the constant movement of the car.

You’re grateful that the car stops for a moment, you’re hoping Joshua takes a bit longer than expected to come out of the rink so that your body can stop feeling off center.

Unfortunately, he’s quite prompt, you notice him walking out only a few minutes later. He’s accompanied by two other staff members, seemingly debriefing him on your arrival as you see one of them point to the car.

You suddenly feel acutely aware of how disheveled you look in your inconspicuous airport outfit, barely awake enough to make proper conversation with him.

He arrives at the other back car door quickly, opening it with a big smile.

“Y/N! Hi, I’m so happy to finally see you again,” He’s excited, settling into the backseat across from you, slightly more perky than you expected.

“Hi,” You wave back politely, pushing your voice up an octave to match his energy that is nearly impossible to replicate in your current mood.

“I’m sure you must be exhausted, it was a long flight wasn’t it?” His brows furrow slightly, and his concern is evident on his face.

“Yeah, I’m still pretty tired,” You offer him a halfhearted smile.

“Well, we can recover once we’re at my place. We’ll have time to catch up on everything,” He reassures you with a nod.

He notices you’re still out of it, so you don’t talk for the rest of the ride to his house.

Through heavy eyelids, you steal a few looks at him and he really is as pretty as you remember. His boyish features filled out his face much better now, although he was always handsome.

You’re not sure how long his practice day was, but it surely didn’t show in his features. He caught you looking at him only once, you tried to be discreet while he was looking at his phone, but he still saw you.

It seemed like he had a sixth sense to know when someone was looking at him which, if anything, made it a bit more embarrassing to get caught.

He let you off easy though, smiling at you before turning his attention back to his phone.

It was a tiny gesture, but it reminds you just how much he seems to notice you.

—

You wouldn’t say you’re best friends or anything, but talking to Joshua for an extended period of time has made you miss being around him in person. His energy has always been the same after so long.

“So you just casually stumbled into an interview with Dwayne the Rock Johnson?” He’s somehow fully astonished at your celebrity interview stories, you notice the sparkle in his eyes and his smile is radiant, but you think that’s just the alcohol creeping up on him.

You both agreed to a drink after coming back to the house, you chose wine while he opted for beer. This has made the mood considerably less awkward and you’re grateful that you both pushed past the mandatory small talk.

“Yeah, the interviewer before me canceled so I got more time with him than I intended. Then the whole viral interview video happened,” You wave your hand before taking another sip of your glass.

“You say that as if it’s normal,” He pushes his hair back, slightly exposing his forehead. That was surprising coming from him, considering that he is far more famous than you would ever be. Yet, you assume that it’s because he’s famous in a more traditional sense, so content creation was never a part of his job to begin with.

“Well, it is if you’re good at it, which I am,” You brag, receiving a hearty laugh from him.

“Look at you, big shot,” He playfully swats your arm. “You really made it, huh?” He’s fond, his glance is soft and yearning for more. It’s far too sentimental for where you wanted this to go tonight, but you play along for a moment.

“I did,” Your cheeks are slightly too warm as you avoid his eye contact with a small smile, but you still have control over yourself. You decide to take advantage of it.

“I want to get some stuff recorded for the interview if that’s okay?” You don’t know why you ask for permission to start interviewing, seeing as it’s the entire reason you’re here in the first place.

“That’s fine,” He straightens up a bit, he doesn’t seem too affected by the alcohol either which will make this a bit easier.

“We’ll keep it pretty light today, considering this is just the first day.”

“I’m good with that,” He chuckles lightly. You know he’s watching you struggle to figure out the best way to interview him. It’s too much effort to find your laptop which is somewhere tucked away in a carry-on bag, so you settle for your phone.

“Ok, so,” you fumble with your phone’s record button on the Voice Memos app for a moment, “tell me your general feelings about the Olympics coming up.”

“I’m excited, I missed being in full competition prep mode. It’s an indescribable feeling, but everything is coming together nicely which is all I can ask for on the 4th time around,” He had a vague joy in his eyes, but you didn’t want to scrutinize the answer just yet, it was only the first question.

“What does full competition prep mode look like for you?”

“My practice days are much longer than usual, so I’m in the rink most days from sunrise to sunset, if I can help it,” He smiles sheepishly. That charm seems like it’s going to seep through every response he gives you, so he can possibly get away with some things.

“What do you like to do to destress after such long practice days?”

His eyes light up at the idea and he readjusts his position on the couch. “I like taking a cold shower and catching up on reality TV, I honestly like anything trashy.”

You didn’t peg Joshua to be a reality TV person, but it’s the exact kind of pop culture talk that his fans will eat up.

“Okay, then which one do you prefer, The Bachelor or Love Island?” You ask curiously.

“Love Island, easily,” He replies immediately. He smirks and you nod in affirmation. You knew he had good taste, you figure you’d have to ask him about some other TV preferences later.

“Good, that was the right answer,” You shoot back. You decide to drink the rest of your wine instead of nursing it any longer.

“Asking the tough questions, clearly,” He’s way too smug about it and it makes you roll your eyes.

“Shut up, I told you we’re keeping it light! Unless you want to be asked about the future of your career while we drink,” Now it’s your turn to touch his arm, your hand intentionally doesn’t linger for too long though.

“I don’t, you’re right,” You know he’s not lying by the way he lets out a deep breath. There’s an unspoken tension at the thought of you bringing everything up.

“Okay, one more dumb non-skating question.”

“They’re not dumb,” He immediately catches your words and you blink at him, silently watching his face. He stares back, but his expression is slightly tender. Again, his face is almost too sweet for you to process. It threw you off this time though, so you have to look at the floor. You don’t even remember the question you meant to ask him, so you opt for a way out.

“Stop it.”

“What?” He genuinely looks confused, as if he’s not unconsciously doing the standard heartthrob boyfriend-esque banter.

“That was too nice,” You pick up your phone to stop the recording, still not facing him. Your body language is slightly more closed off.

“You act like you’ve never been complimented before,” He retorts.

You couldn’t say that it was different because he said it, you couldn’t give a shit if some random A-lister made you feel better about your work, but it was him.

“I’m not used to your compliments,” You indirectly emphasize him.

“Well, we’ll have to change that then,” He smirks.

That stirs something up in your chest, but you can’t quite name it. You decide it’s best to ignore it.

“Great. So are you gonna make me dinner or are we ordering somewhere?”

“I’m definitely not cooking,” He lets out a clipped laugh, shaking his head in disapproval. To be fair, he exerted more physical effort in a day than you’d do in an entire calendar year, so you weren’t exactly offended.

The night spun on with cheap pizza and varying levels of conversations. He even convinced you to watch Love Island, albeit one episode, until he decided he was too tired to continue.

He gives you a short tour of the guest room before retreating to his own room, and you finally get a moment to sit with your thoughts.

Joshua is friendlier than you expected and that was going to cause problems whether you liked it or not.

—

Although it was your first full day in town, the jetlag caught up with you almost immediately. Joshua mentioned last night that he would be at meetings throughout the afternoon, so you were grateful that you didn’t have to tag along.

Once you were thoroughly awake, you decided to investigate the house. As you suspected, it was far too big for him, especially considering he wasn’t home enough to enjoy it anyways.

The style of the house is typical celebrity fare, far too angular and minimalist for your taste. The shades of white, gray, and black that decorated his furniture and appliances were anything but inviting. It was all far too muted in your opinion and it made you miss the character of your apartment.

Besides a few framed photos of what you assume to be his family and friends along with some light decor, it looks like it could be plucked right off of a Zillow listing.

Even if you wanted to write some flowery prose about his house for the article, it leaves much to be desired.

“Are you settled in?” Your manager asks over the phone. She promised not to call you after this initial check in, but you figured she’d find other ways to be nosy about how things are going. She was a fan of Joshua, so her prying for extra details wouldn’t be completely unexpected.

“Yeah, everything’s been good,” You shared, completely nestled onto the couch with a blanket.

“How’s Joshua?” She inquires with a slight lilt.

“He’s doing well. We’ve already got some parts for the interview, but I haven’t seen him skate yet,” You recall the banter of last night with a small smile. You were both being friendly, it was completely harmless.

“Well, you still have a lot of time for that, but I’m glad you’ve made some progress. I’ll let you go, but let me know if you need anything.”

“I will,” You respond. You exchange goodbyes and go back to mindlessly scrolling on Twitter.

“Were you talking shit about me?” Joshua asks. You whip your head around to notice him watching you, completely unsuspecting in his business casual attire. You shriek in fear, clutching the blanket before reaching over to throw a pillow at his face. He narrowly avoids it with a massive grin on his face.

“Jesus, you scared the hell out of me,” You sigh, pressing a hand to your chest to check your racing pulse.

“I’m light on my feet.”

“Yeah, clearly,” You grumbled.

“You look very comfortable,” He teases, pointing to your current seating position with a chuckle. Your body is completely wrapped up minus your head. It probably looks quite funny by the way he bites his tongue with a childish smile.

“I am. How were the meetings?” You deflect the attention onto him instead.

“Productive,” He walks around to join you on the couch, landing next to you with a sigh.

“Anything worth breaking an NDA over?”

He rolls his eyes. “Absolutely not,” He scoffed.

“Worth a try,” You finally free your arms from the blanket, but you’re still wearing a hoodie.

“Why did you need the blanket if you’re wearing a hoodie?” He asks politely, pointing to your chest.

“I get cold easily!” You protest.

This oversized maroon hoodie was your signature writing piece, you absolutely needed to wear it for big projects or else you wrote pure shit.

You’ve had it since you started writing professionally, a random thrift store find that has given you incredible luck over the years. It’s helped you through many long nights of writing and editing throughout your career.

Thus, you put it on in an attempt to stir up some inspiration, but to no avail.

Joshua is charmed by this backstory though, nodding along with his head in the palm of his hand.

“You think it’s dumb,” You’re projecting onto him, without a doubt.

“No, it’s not! It’s actually very cute. You can wear it to the rink later.”

“We’re still doing that?” You grimace. He joked that he was going to take you out onto the ice, but doing it this early into the trip felt like overkill.

“Unfortunately, yes,” He pouts. “I’m forcing you out of the house so that you don’t steal my blankets.”

“Very rude.”

—

The rink is far bigger than you could’ve imagined. You haven’t been in many throughout your life, but since it functions partly as a stadium, it makes you feel even smaller.

He leads you to the check in booth to introduce you to the staff onsite for the day. If he’s coming to practice solo, he remarks that the employees only door is typically unlocked for him, and his suspicions are correct.

“Hey, man, it’s good to see you again,” Joshua embraces a taller man into a hug once he walks through the door. “Cheol, this is Y/N,” He glances between the two of you with a hopeful smile.

“Y/N, this is Seungcheol.”

“Hi,” You wave politely and everything starts to register for you. You’ve known of Seungcheol for a long time through Joshua’s social media, you knew they were longtime friends and Joshua was always open about being close with Seungcheol’s family.

“It’s nice to finally meet you. Josh has told me a lot about you, you’re always a hot topic around here,” Seungcheol smirks to Joshua’s dismay.

“Not in a bad way, everybody loves your writing,” Joshua tries to diffuse the tension with a short smile.

“Is Sumin here?” He switches the topic completely, looking around to the back door for any sign of life.

“Yeah, she’s just with her mom. I’ll go get her,” Seungcheol replies before heading further back into the venue.

It’s another minute or two before he comes back with a toddler in his arms, her eyes lighting up at the sight of Joshua. She squirms in Seungcheol’s hold until he puts her down, and she takes off running until Joshua catches her in his arms.

“Joshie,” she screams into his ear. He spins her around for a moment until she’s giggling uncontrollably. It was absolutely adorable, it even got a smile out of you.

“Hi Minnie, how are you?” He’s beaming from ear to ear at her.

“Good,” she nods decisively. He points to you before introducing you to her.

“That’s Y/N. She’s a good friend of mine, can you say hi?” He coaxes her with a gentle voice.

“Hi,” She waves and Joshua is celebrating her again with a small kiss on the cheek. He seems like such a natural with her, it’s as if she’s his own daughter.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” You wave back and she offers you a shy smile.

“I have to go, but I’ll just be skating out there with Y/N, okay?” He reassures her with a sweet pat to her hair before handing her off to Seungcheol.

She puts her head on Seungcheol’s shoulder with another nod. “Out there,” she points to the ice.

“Yep. Be good for dad, I’ll see you later,” He winks at her before leading you both out to the ice.

Your heart is warm from the entire interaction. He sits down on the bleachers and you land next to him, silently placing his duffel bag onto the ground.

He unzips it to reveal your skates. He ordered them before you arrived, promising that he would get you to skate at some point during the trip. You just didn’t predict it would be this early on.

“How old is she?” You asked, toeing off your sneakers before putting on the skates one at a time.

“Two,” He smiles fondly at the thought of her. “Cheol and his wife are such good parents, they were worried about being too young but they’re perfect to her.”

“So you’re her godfather, I assume?”

“Is it that obvious?” He scrunches his face. He turns his attention to his skates for a moment, quickly lacing them up and tightening them. You didn’t even notice him taking off his other shoes.

“Yeah, you definitely gave off dad vibes, but it was sweet.”

“Him and his family have done so much for me, I couldn’t say no. I also helped him ask out his wife on their first date, so it was inevitable,” He pushes his hair out of his face with a grin.

“They helped you adjust here, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll always be grateful for them. It started with discounted rental fees because I couldn’t afford to use the space, so I owe a lot to them. I pay them back in any way I can,” He nodded solemnly.

He has a deep sense of gratitude that is admirable, it makes you wonder what it’s like to be so deeply initiated into someone’s life that there’s no question if you’ll be there forever, it’s just a matter of what role you’ll play.

It made sense that Joshua knew the place so intimately, he was clearly a member of Seungcheol’s family. He grew up in this rink, watched his friends grow and start their families. It was a safe haven.

“Are you ready to skate?”

“Barely.”

“That’s the spirit,” He rubs your shoulder before standing up. You also stand up, albeit far more slowly, facing toward the ice.

You’ve gone ice skating multiple times in your life, but not enough to remember anything past the basics. You step onto the ice, but you already feel like the surface is going to give out any second.

Joshua notices you start to flail and rushes to place a protective arm around your waist. “Are you okay?”

“No,” You squeeze your eyes shut and are already considering admitting defeat. The idea of voluntarily skating with an Olympic gold medalist had to be the worst idea you’ve had in a long time.

“Do you want me to get you the walker?” He asks sweetly. There’s absolutely no malice there, but it still feels slightly patronizing.

“Joshua, that’s not funny,” You whine, anxiously looking down at your skates.

“I’m not joking, I’m just giving you options!”

“No, I don’t need it. I just got nervous,” You reassure yourself. That was the truth, it was mostly the shock of being on the ice again after such a long time.

“Ok, so if I let go, you’ll be fine?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I’m letting go. Just bend your knees if you think you’re gonna fall,” He slowly moves away from you, looking expectantly to see how you’ll fare on your own. His advice works and you find your balance without too much effort. You do remember how to move forward on skates, so you decide to impress him a bit.

You move easily, pushing your back leg out and to the side before alternating legs, making your way across the ice without much issue. He is visibly impressed, gasping at you with his arms crossed.

“You’re so good! I thought you were a beginner,” He praises you while skating over to your side.

“I am! I don’t know anything other than this.”

“That’s fine, then we can just expand on that skill today. Nothing crazy, I promise,” He calms your nerves with a gentle hand on your shoulder.

The skill in question is extending the standard forward movements into drawn out strokes, so it appears as though you’re gliding instead of walking on the ice. You would leave that back leg out for longer periods to create a more elegant appearance when you move forward. When he demonstrates the move, you’re mesmerized. No matter how many times you’ve seen him do the same moves, there’s still an enchanting quality to his skating.

He can elevate any move without much effort, but that is clearly from years worth of work and persistence into making his moves clean.

Joshua is an incredibly patient teacher, far more than you expected. There’s absolutely no frustration when you make a mistake, just a quiet encouragement to keep going.

When you unexpectedly lose your balance, he’s making sure you fall backwards so as to not injure your hands. When you’re visibly frustrated, he lets you take a break for a few minutes to regroup. There’s a level of care you didn’t expect, but then again, it’s Joshua. He couldn’t ignore your requests for help even if he wanted to.

You’re not ready to do full out spins or jumps yet, but you are instilled with a new confidence that you can at least try something new without getting immediately discouraged.

“Are you good with finishing up there?”

“Yeah, I feel good. I do need something from you, though.”

“And what is that?”

“Your best jump.”

“Best jump?” He looks back at the ice before facing you again, seemingly considering all his options. Despite all of your years of supporting him, you still didn’t know the difference between the jumps, but you figure it’s best not to ask for more explanation than this.

“Pretty please?” You flash a smile that he can’t deny. He lets out a quiet laugh and his eyes search the ground for a moment before he nods.

“Okay, I’ll do a quadruple jump combo, but only because you asked so nicely,” He sighs, squaring his shoulders for a moment.

“I appreciate it a lot,” You amp up the compliments in hopes that he doesn’t change his mind.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say,” He skates away from you to find a solid starting position. You move to a corner wall to observe and stay out of the way.

He takes a deep breath before starting his entrance, snapping through both jumps with ease. He landed evenly, coming out into a pose for you, his arms pointed up with flair before putting them down again.

“Very impressive,” You compliment him.

“It was, wasn’t it?” His breathing is a bit uneven once he comes up to you again. You smile at his cockiness, but it’s well earned.

He restrains himself from practicing any further or else he’ll be here for hours on end, but that’s not too different from most days. He tells you this is one of his shorter visits, somehow being here for under 3 hours is an accomplishment worth celebrating.

You both say goodbye to Seungcheol and Sumin before heading out to his car. You climb into the passenger seat while he adjusts his seatbelt. He decides to let you interview him while he’s driving although you were fine with waiting until you were back at his home.

“So this current practice routine is the most intense level you’ve been at in the past 4 years?”

“Yeah, I slowly had to work it up to this point after the injury. It was almost painful to slow down that much, but I needed to,” He focuses on the road while responding. You’ve opted for writing notes on your phone and recording at the same time.

“How did it initially feel for you to go through it?”

“I hated it. I didn’t break my ankle normally either, so it wasn’t just the typical advice of staying off your ankle for 8 weeks. It took so much longer than everyone anticipated and I had to genuinely stop everything I was doing,” He tightens his grip on the steering wheel to your slight shock.

“I’m sure it was frustrating to not be able to enjoy that podium moment either.”

“Right, it was as if I didn’t even make the podium. I got 3rd place, but it was so excruciating to even be up there, I didn’t feel like I earned it,” He looks visibly upset just recounting it to you. It hurts to hear just how insecure he became afterwards. In hindsight, it makes sense that he didn’t want to spend time discussing it. Back then, the radio silence just made you hope that he was taking care of himself, not feeling pressured to keep anyone updated. Why would he want to constantly relive and dissect that kind of trauma?

“Do you ultimately want to redeem that moment?”

“I hope so. There’s always pressure to constantly outdo yourself, but I just want to finish the routines safely. That’s all I want,” He nods solemnly and you automatically believe him. Although he’s safely finished the other competitions within a season, there’s still an underlying fear of things going wrong at the worst possible moment.

“From what I saw today, you’re being careful,” You assure him. It’s not wrong to say that either, especially when he was helping you with the execution of the moves earlier. When he was done showing you a certain idea, he didn’t linger in the pose too long at all. It felt like he was overly cautious if anything, but you didn’t want to shift the mood too drastically.

“That’s from all the paranoia, trust me. I don’t want to feel afraid to compete, I want to break out of that habit,” He finally glances at you for a moment.

You’re grateful that he seems to echo your internal sentiment. There was never an air of hesitation around his skating, he was always quite self-assured in himself, but you both know that never conquering your fears could indefinitely stunt your growth. He obviously needed as long as possible to rebuild his self image and confront his fears.

“For what it’s worth, I think you’ll find that courage again,” You place a hand on his shoulder. The tension settles almost immediately at your touch.

“You think so?”

“I know you will. It’s either that or withdrawing from the Olympics which just sounds like a lot of paperwork, honestly,” You joke.

“You’re right, it’s a shit ton of paperwork,” He giggles and readjusts his hands on the wheel again.

You knew that last part wouldn’t be used for your final work, but it’s nice to hear him joke about it all. You liked being there for him as a friend, even if you’d never know exactly what it’s like to be in his position. He deserves that kind of empathy that’s not hollow or backhanded, you figure that’s the least you could do for him while being here.

You could finally even out the foundation of friendship in this way, silently repairing all the mistakes you’ve made in the past in regards to your relationship.

He’s able to talk a bit more about his recovery before the end of the drive and you feel satisfied by the end of the night. Over dinner, it feels like everything is evolving, not just the article itself. He’s opened himself up a bit further and you’d like to treasure that.

—

“You don’t have to stay the entire time, you know that right?” He turns his glance toward you away from the ice with a smirk playing on his lips.

The infamous 12-hour practice day had arrived, and you were dreading it the most out of the week’s schedule. Yet, you were committed to being as involved in his daily life as possible, despite your natural aversion to waking up at dawn. You didn’t want to be one of those writers that holed up in their hotel room to write their assigned article. It was typically out of your control how much time you were allowed to spend with a subject, but if given the option to spend more time with them, you wanted to take it.

Since it was Joshua, you still felt obliged to play catch up on spending time with him in any way you could, even if it meant watching him from the bleachers for an entire work day. Plus, you were already at the rink this early, there was no use in leaving to do touristy things alone when you didn’t necessarily want to do that anyways.

“I know, but I want to,” You retorted. He gives you that “you’re gonna eat your words” look, but he still accepts your answer.

“Are you still up to be interviewed once you’re done practicing?”

“Yeah, I should be good,” He takes a deep breath once he replies, seemingly preparing himself for the painstakingly long day ahead of him.

“Okay, I’ll leave you to it then,” You wave at him and he returns it immediately. You head up the bleachers to find a good seat, ending up somewhere towards the lower half of the seating. You wanted to be in a good position where you could view the full scope of his skating, but also capture the details of his face. Your position ends up being perfect, it makes watching him even more fascinating.

He does most of his stretches further away from you, so you’re caught craning your neck to see him. His muscles are well defined, a fact that you’ve been trying to ignore as the bulk of his arms seem to fight against the sleeves of his shirt as he stretches his limbs above his head.

His warm-up is calm yet still dynamic to watch. His jumps are so effortless that your head spins just thinking about the physics of jumping up into a spin and somehow not falling on your ass as you land.

Yet, he lands them perfectly every time. You know that’s not possible, that there’s probably some small tweak he’d make to the way he entered a jump or a correction he’d make to the angle of his landing, but you were fine living in ignorant bliss of the technical aspects of his skating.

You wanted yourself to enjoy being a spectator, to not fixate on every single detail, and simply enjoy an elite athlete being good at their sport.

He takes a small breather but soon goes into his assumed short program. Most diehard Olympics fans would kill to see even a glimpse of his routines for the impending games, but like any other figure skater, the details are carefully kept under lock and key until the competition begins.

You try to savor the image of him without the full theatrics of the actual performance, and the sight of him is enchanting.

His short program music is a bombastic and dynamic classical piece that forces you to focus on every detail of the performance. It’s a triumphant number, one that exudes the confidence and charisma of an experienced skater that knows the nuances of the song like the back of their hand. You decide that it suits him perfectly as he expresses the power of the song through cutthroat expressions and sharp movements.

After running through the full routine a few times, you notice him stop to take an extended break. He skates back to your side of the rink with a smile on his face.

“Falling asleep yet?” He jokes.

“Not yet,” you return the smile, your cheeks practically hurt just looking at him. It’s nearly impossible to avoid watching him, he’s always had this magnetic charm on the ice that makes him hard to ignore.

“Good, I haven’t bored you yet. How’s the writing coming?”

You glance at your laptop on the seat next to you, accompanied by scattered papers on top of the keyboard. The writing was mostly on pause considering the unusual environment, you didn’t ever write with the same classical song blasting in your ears on repeat.

Also, he was skating, so every time you thought you got into a good rhythm with writing, your eyes drifted back to him gliding across the ice. The sound of his skates hitting the ice was hard to ignore.

“It’s coming,” You lie easily. A quick tilt of his head signals that he knows you’re bluffing.

“Lots of strategizing, huh?” He doesn’t let on though, pointing at your notes instead and you’re nodding slowly.

“You’re not an easy person to write about,” You give him a pointed look and he’s grinning.

“So I’ve heard,” You’re glad he has some level of self-awareness. You’re not trying to give writers who are purposefully uninformed about his career when tasked to write a meaningful piece about him any credit, but he was a somewhat difficult subject.

Not in the traditional ways, of course, he’s not storming out of interviews over small details, but he’s so polished that it’s impossible to get much depth out of him beyond his typical media-trained answers.

You always heard the same things about him from other entertainment writers. He was perfectly kind and respectful to work with, but you would have to try especially hard to break him out of his mold.

Even if you felt that you knew him, you didn’t really know him at all.

The thought sits in the back of your mind like an unwanted guest.

“That means you actually have to keep giving me something to work with,” You sigh, gesturing your hands out toward him.

“We’ll see,” He playfully eyes you up and down, but it has a serious undertone. You’ve made some good progress, but you didn’t want to torture him for details. It wasn’t worth being invasive of his boundaries just to make a better article.

He skates off without another word and he’s back in the throes of practicing the routine. After a bit more technical work on the short program, he moves on to the free program.

The music is drastically calmer, it creates a stark contrast to his first routine. It’s still classical, you’d have to inquire exactly what track it was, but the mood of the piece was much lighter. It was smart of him to represent the full duality of his skating abilities.

His movements are almost fairylike, his delicate spins are effortless to watch. This doesn’t undercut the power of his jumps though, still as dramatic as ever. This routine contains far more quadruple jumps than the short program, likely in an effort to show off his technical prowess.

He wasn’t called the “technical prince” for nothing. It’s a nickname that’s been floating around the fandom since your early blog days, first used when fans noticed that young Joshua’s technical scores at competitions were almost always perfect. It’s followed him for years, evolving to show how clean his technique is.

He’s the textbook example of a good figure skater.

Once he finishes the routine, you can tell his stamina is reasonably depleted. From your occasional glances, you can tell it’s quite taxing to do multiple quadruple jump combinations in a row, yet he pulls it off every time.

The rest of the day consisted of him alternating between the routines, cleaning up details that he wasn’t happy with, and practicing the execution of his moves until he finally seemed satisfied with them. After a while, you figure you can’t write much else for this portion of the article without interviewing him again, so you settle further into the unforgivingly cold seats to watch him intently.

“Y/N!” He calls your name suddenly, waving his hand from across the rink.

“What?”

“It’s time to go home,” He beckons his hand for you to come toward him. You don’t hesitate to pack your laptop and assorted notes back into your purse, rushing over to meet up with him on his side of the rink. You don’t exactly know how to process being included in the concept of his home, even though you know it’s a harmless statement.

By the time you reach the other side, he’s already taken his skates off and replaced them with sneakers, his leg anxiously bouncing up and down as he watches you come over. He’s sat toward the end of the bleachers and you can sense that his body is ready to get moving.

“I just have to get a few things from the locker room and I’ll be ready to go. Do you want to go back there with me?” He looks toward the lengthy hallway behind him before looking back at you in anticipation. You didn’t go the first day he invited you to the rink out of an abundance of caution, mostly for your own heart’s sake.

You could keep yourself under control watching him collect his things, right?

“Yeah, I’ll go,” You nod decisively. He gets up and leads you through the hallway until you arrive at a private locker room, the door is adorned with a small nameplate with his name on it. He downplays how fancy it actually is, but it feels like a miniature hotel suite. In addition to the dressing room itself, it also contains a full private bathroom and sizable closet.

“Damn,” you mutter under your breath, looking around the room and taking in the full scope of it.

“Yeah, it’s pretty nice,” He adds. You’re still looking around and trying not to touch anything in fear of breaking something.

You turn around to voice your opinions, but you notice something else.

Joshua is shirtless. You weren’t exactly objectifying him, but it was definitely hard to not look at him. He’s taking a moment to wipe off the sweat across his chest, it feels a bit pornographic to keep looking at that point. The next time you look, he thankfully has a shirt on so your cheeks can stop fully burning at the sight of him.

He doesn’t notice your stare, but you do observe the shirts that fall to the floor when Joshua accidentally knocks his duffel bag onto the ground.

“I’ve got it,” You chirp, already reaching down to pick everything up.

“It’s okay,” Joshua hurriedly shoulders the bag back onto the bench, double checking that it’s not hanging off precariously like last time.

Your heads both come up at the same time, your faces only a few inches away from each other.

“Are you gonna move?” You inquire quietly. He stares back, obviously in no rush to fold. His glance is tempting, everything about him is tempting.

“Do you want me to move?” He counters.

Shit.

You didn’t want him to at all, the idea of him walking away makes you want to scream. The tension has been mounting the past few days whether you wanted to admit it or not. At first, you chalked it up to him just being a gentleman, but there was always a hint of something else there. His politeness toward his staff was completely different to the kindness he offered you.

The lingering glances on you when he’s cooking, his particularly fond smiles while you talk about something, and the soft touches all add up in your brain.

Now that you were in a different setting, it was crystal clear to you. If there was ever a sign, this was it.

“No,” You shake your head.

“Can I?” He asks and your heart has already melted into a puddle. No one ever asks you for a kiss. You’re not sure if you would’ve rejected him to begin with, but the tenderness leaves you enthralled.

You nod and he meets your lips with ease. He tastes better than you could’ve ever imagined. It doesn’t take long for you to move further into the kiss, pushing your tongue into his mouth. He accepts you and naturally picks up the pace, capturing your lips over and over again leaving you few chances to catch your breath.

“Shit,” You step back first and he’s clearly confused.

“Are you ok? We don’t have to do this,” His voice is far too worried for what you’re actually thinking about, poor thing.

“No, I’m fine, I just remembered that I didn’t get to interview you,” You pout. You genuinely feel guilty for not mentioning it before the lust took over your mind, but it still needed to get off your chest.

“That’s okay, we can just do it here,” He reassures you with a nod.

“No,” you caress his arm, “not here.”

It clicks once you start running your hand up and down his bicep, eventually resting your palm on the side of his neck. The gesture is enough to make him arrange his bag faster than you’ve seen him move the entire trip.

—

“God, you taste so fucking good,” Joshua moans into your ear, momentarily taking his lips off yours to catch his breath. You can’t even form sentences at this point, only quiet moans that show your dissolving restraint. He can tell you’re getting tired of holding back too, in fact it seems to bother him quite a bit.

“I wanna hear you,” He whispers again, he suddenly nips your ear in retaliation for being quiet.

It forces a whiny moan out of your throat, it’s embarrassing to bend so easily to him but his quiet humming on your neck is enough indication to you that he’s satisfied.

He insisted on driving you both home and for good reason, he was so helplessly horny that he couldn’t keep his hand off your thigh for the entire drive home. You felt him snake his hand underneath your skirt, but he didn’t go much further than that, his thumb idly rubbing circles on your inner thigh.

The moment you both walked inside the house, Joshua couldn’t contain himself at all against your lips, thus you were barely standing up against the door.

“Josh, please,” you breathe out. Your voice is weak, you can’t even pretend to have your guard up anymore.

“What’s up?” He barely gets it out before his lips are on yours again. You whimper into the kiss again, tapping your hands against his chest to get his attention. You manage to pull away to speak up.

“Please tell me you’re not gonna fuck me against the door,” You pant, looking up at him with a smirk.

He takes a deep breath and tilts his head to look at you intently. You almost think he’s angry until he suddenly picks you up bridal style, ignoring your startled scream with a smile.

He leads you upstairs into his bedroom and tosses you on the bed lightly, you lean back onto your elbows as he inches closer to you.

“You’re so fucking impatient, you know that?” He giggles at you, hands slowly prying open your thighs with gentle hands. You try not to hold your breath in anticipation, but the touch of his fingertips against your skin is already driving you insane.

“You made us rush home because you swore that you needed to get more material for the interview,” He speaks in a low tone, sliding his hands underneath your skirt again, but his hands stop at your hips, massaging the fabric of your underwear.

“I did, I mean, I do,” You stutter out, making eye contact with him. He laughs at your attempt to be coherent and hooks his fingers under both sides of your underwear. He decides to slip the entirety of his hands underneath, seizing your hips with outstretched palms. He yanks you down the bed in one swift movement, making you gasp.

“You kept teasing me with this skirt, ignoring me and acting like you weren’t already soaked for me back at the rink,” He palms the front of your cunt, confirming how desperate you’ve been for him. It makes you shudder and squeeze your eyes closed.

“No no no, baby, keep your eyes open. You’re gonna interview me right now,” He nods at you and your heart drops to your stomach. You’re already somewhat close to cumming, you’re convinced that a single touch to your clit would send you over the edge.

How the hell were you meant to interview him like this?

“Fuck,” You whine, hips already lifting off the bed to gain more friction.

“I know, honey, you have to focus. Can you do that or do you need my cock that badly?” He teases you with lustful eyes and you clench your jaw. You’re determined to prove him wrong, so you put your energy into contemplating a question to start with.

“I can focus, asshole,” You begrudgingly shift your hips to give him better access. You shake your head and come up with a question on the spot, eyes trained on his expectantly.

“What’s a common misconception about your public persona that you hate?” Your voice holds steady and he slides your underwear off quickly.

He hums to himself for a moment, deciding to graze a finger lazily against your folds. “I’m not a people pleaser or a pushover. People think me being a gentleman means I take all kinds of shit, but I don’t,” He slips two fingers into your core, a light smile plays on his lips when he feels you clench around him.

“So you think people in the industry look down on you for that?” You hear your voice lilt for a second as he finds a steady rhythm, curling his fingers instinctively. Your hips are rocking subtly and he clocks this immediately, he moves to cage you between his legs.

“I know they do,” He confirms with a lift of his eyebrows, “especially when I was younger. It fucked with my mentality a lot, but I know better now,” He adds when he sees your pout. He moves up to your chest, tugging your shirt up slightly. He moves back to let you take off your top and bra, but his fingers are still expertly moving inside your walls. The sound of your wetness is absolutely stealing your focus, especially when Joshua decides to force his fingers inside you even harder with low grunts.

He’s an absolute menace, you’re sure of it.

You only nod to his answer, but he disapproves at your silence. “Come on, you know the rules,” He moves up to capture your nipple in his mouth, eliciting soft moans out of you. Your orgasm is definitely on the horizon, the coil in the pit of your stomach is tightening with every bite to your chest.

“So I assume you channel a lot of frustration into your-” He hits your g-spot particularly hard, you let out a strangled cry that forces a tear down your cheek. You clamp a hand over your mouth, but Joshua is already pushing it off your face to leave a peck on your lips.

“Your skating, shit,” You whisper, you force his head back down to meet your lips in a heated kiss. Your tongue enters his mouth with no hesitation and he returns the kiss just as eagerly. He pulls back after a few seconds and leaves a kiss on your cheek.

“Definitely. People can say whatever they want about me, but I know I’m talented. I don’t have to resort to making shit up about my competitors to compensate for a lack of talent,” He laughs at the idea of being that desperate for attention. It makes your walls flutter around his fingers.

“You like it when I hype myself up, huh?” You watch him move to the crook of your neck, biting down hard on an exposed part of your skin.

“Yes, yes yes,” You slur out, eyes fluttering shut. He giggles at your temporary lack of attention before kissing across your jaw. He retreats back down to your thighs again, placing a finger against your clit.

“One more question and you can cum, I promise,” He nods at you and you return it after a moment, but it’s going to be an uphill battle to arrange your mushy brain into a proper thought.

“Do you think you’re the best figure skater in the world?” You sigh into the air, eyes rolling to the back of your head in frustration. It’s an absolutely loaded question, but you know his ego is massive right now since you’re in the palm of his hands.

His fingers still, the pressure remains deep in your core and he runs his free hand through his hair. The whole act would be far sexier than it already is if you weren’t seconds away from covering his fingers in cum.

He laughs quietly before speaking up again. “I do. We both know I am,” His voice is far too cocky for his own good. His stare is stone cold, he holds so much control over you that it’s almost unbearable.

“Now cum,” His nonchalance sends you over the edge instantly. Your high pitched moan goes completely silent, your mouth agape while your neck tilts back in an effort to regain control. Joshua slips his fingers out and moves up to your face, pressing them gently on your bottom lip. You suck them off immediately and watch him coo at you. “Good job, baby. Ready for anything else?”

“Can I take a nap?” You furrow your eyebrows at him, heart full of malice for his unexpectedly great oral skills, yet he’s still smitten with you.

Honestly, Joshua Hong was always gonna be great in bed. It’s not like you didn’t fantasize about having sex with him over the years, but you didn’t expect the prophecy to fulfill itself this easily.

Somehow, he got you all whiny and pliant when you didn’t expect it at all. It was annoying how well he could please you. You were slightly tired, but you didn’t want him to be a cocky shit on top of you again just yet. You needed to recover.

“Sure,” He finally got off the bed, presumably to help you clean up and your suspicions were correct when he returned a minute later with a damp washcloth. You started to sit up, but he made you lie down again.

Who were you to fight Joshua when he offered to tend to your shaking thighs and messy cunt? It was the least he could do after making you work for your orgasm.

—

The next morning, you’re shocked that Joshua is in bed next to you. He was always up and moving pretty early, deep into his morning routine while you were barely conscious.

You, on the other hand, were trying to treat this week partially as a vacation. When Joshua wanted to bring you along to his private schedules, you were still insistent on taking your time to get ready, much to his dismay.

Thus, you were grateful that he could actually slow down for one day while you were here. As your eyes adjusted to the sunlight filtering through the curtains, you realized this was the rest day placed onto his schedule for the week.

You look over to his sleeping form and realize that you’re deeply entangled with his body. Although you’re lying flat on your back, his head is tucked in the crook of your neck. You don’t dare to move your arms or legs though, as his body keeps you essentially trapped into place next to him.

Your minimal movements still stir him awake.

“Hi,” you whisper. He’s still forcing himself into consciousness, but he waves at you. You sit in silence for a few minutes, silently waking each other up with random touches on each other’s face or arms.

“We had sex three times last night, correct?” You ask out of the blue. He’s visibly confused at your sudden line of questioning.

“Not even a good morning?” He mutters, letting out a big yawn immediately after.

“No. I wanna know because I know you remember.”

“After that first part? I’m pretty sure it was three,” His voice is slightly hesitant, but you trust his answer considering he was dominant the entire time. You also wanted to know because it was becoming increasingly harder to deny how much you like him.

You have to admit, it was nice being able to have him like this, to watch him rub the sleep out of his eyes and cuddle without questioning if he wanted you back. He clearly did, even if his pride wouldn’t let himself say it. It was a matter of who would crack first, now that you’ve established the fact that you have undeniable sexual chemistry.

“How did you get me to go three more times?” This question is especially pertinent now that your muscles felt the aches to match that number. You can barely sit up against the headboard without wincing.

“You asked me to,” He put his hands up in defense.

You now remember that you did ask to keep going. The first time was standard, being called a cockslut during the second round made you go feral enough for a third, and the absolute filth of the last round knocked you out completely.

You were fucked, considering that you didn’t want to have sex with anyone else but only had access to said person for a few more days.

“Right,” You sigh.

“What are you planning to do today?”

“I’m gonna edit the article a bit, I’ve been putting it off. What about you?”

“Chores. I need to get a lot of things done, but remind me to run you a bath at some point today. Your muscles hurt, right?” He’s already out of the bed, stretching his arms above his head.

“Yeah, but I don’t-”

“No, I’m running you a bath. Us, technically since my muscles hurt too,” He raises his eyebrows at the thought of pampering himself, but he’s still insistent on the idea.

“Fine,” You bite back the rest of your response and he picks up on it immediately.

“No rebuttal?”

“No,” You pout, jutting your lip out to garner some kind of sympathy. He falls for it, approaching the bed again.

He leans down to leave a chaste kiss on your lips, his mouth naturally moving up to kiss your cheek as well.

“I promise it’ll be worth it, you’ll feel a lot better,” He softens his delivery for you and it barely hurts once he pulls away. He’s had that effect on you lately, his affection so irresistible that even the worst news has a slightly sweet aftertaste coming from him.

“Come on,” He taps his side of the bed to coax you up, and you slowly follow him.

The encouragement works though, as you’re both propelled into a productive afternoon. Joshua gets all of his chores done, somehow doing three loads of laundry and other assorted tasks while you’re editing.

Meanwhile, you’re firmly planted on the couch, trying to make the interview sound cohesive. You don't need to fully edit while you’re on the trip, that’s not even possible with what you have, but you wouldn’t feel right just leaving the entire process until you arrived home.

Joshua gives you an adequate amount of space, only stopping you to make sure you ate lunch or took a break from looking at your laptop screen.

They were welcome distractions, truly. If the process of trying to capture Joshua accurately in the article didn’t make any sense, it was nice to know the real Joshua was somewhere flitting around the house doing the dishes or vacuuming the living room.

Plus, it was nice to paint domestic scenes about him in your mind.

Joshua doesn’t take breaks much at all, this has been true for his entire career. He’s always competing, always performing, always doing someone a favor by being a guest of honor or special performer. It was nice to see him just exist, to fret over if he had enough laundry detergent for his next load and watch him sort his white clothes from his colorful wardrobe.

You wonder if these moments add up for him too, if he craves this kind of quiet domesticity at times.

He places a gentle hand on your shoulder and you look up at him.

“Can we take a bath now? Is it a bad time?” He worries, but you’re ready to pause.

“No, I’m ready,” You confirm. He helps you off the couch with a steady hand. You walk side by side on the way up the staircase this time, arms linked with hands untouched.

His master bathroom is just as simplistically ornate as you figured it would be. The bathtub overlooks the backyard, displaying a gorgeous view of the city skyline right above the trees.

The sun was about to set, so the view was even more picturesque than you could’ve imagined.

Throughout the day, your aches have been pressing at the back of your brain, interrupting your thought process multiple times, so much so that you don’t know why you fought him against this in the first place.

He opts for picking the right temperature for the water while he leaves you to pick out a calming scent to include in the bath.

You pick an expensive looking lavender bubble bath and he smiles when you place the bottle in his hands.

“I’ve been meaning to use this one, actually,” His eyes light up.

“Sure you have,” You sit down next to him, placing your head on his shoulder. You both observe the water slowly filling up the tub, he silently squeezes the bottle under the running water before retreating once the bubbles start to spread throughout the surface.

You both sit in silence just watching the water fill up, the sound of the faucet echoing throughout the room. Once the tub becomes noticeably fuller, he adds more bubble bath until the top is visibly covered with bubbles.

He insists on getting in first, stripping his clothes easily before settling into the tub slowly. You can already see the tension leave his muscles, especially on his face. His jaw loosens and he takes a deep breath.

He opens one eye and giggles when he sees you hesitate to enter. “Come on, I don’t bite,” He reassures you.

You move to take your clothes off in a few quick movements. He watches you with adoration, as if he’s never seen you naked before and he’d like to take it all in for a moment. Stepping into the tub isn’t too difficult, but when he suddenly pulls your waist down, the splashing startles you.

“Josh, you’re gonna get water everywhere,” you whine.

“You’re supposed to be relaxing, remember?” He pulls you flush against his chest. He punctuates his question with kisses behind your ear.

Right. You force yourself to take a breath and settle into his skin.

You know your skin is littered with light bruises from the night before and he seems to notice this, his hand silently tracing over the red marks before stopping near your collarbone.

Once he stops moving and you stop overthinking, the silence is perfect.

It’s not entirely silent, there’s still the hum of the overhead fan creating ambiance, but the dim lights pull you into the fantasy of it all.

You realize that you haven’t felt this peaceful in a long time. Perhaps it’s his presence or the fact that you haven’t sat in silence on your own in so long, but you want it more often.

You want him to envelop your life with his gentle reminders and caring gazes, silently telling you that there’s no point in working yourself to death if there’s no life for you to live outside of that.

“Joshua?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you ever want your career to slow down?”

He sighs so deeply that you feel it in your chest. “Is this off the record?”

“Yeah.”

“Then yes. I want to slow down so badly, it feels like my body is fighting back against how much I work sometimes,” His response is slightly pained, adjusting his body underneath you.

You pause for a few moments before speaking up again. “What’s stopping you?”

“I don’t-,” He hesitates.

“It’s okay,” Your voice mirrors the softness that he’s given you throughout the day. He gathers his thoughts for a second before trying again.

“I don’t know who I am as a person if I don’t work. This has been my entire life, if I get a few days to myself I feel like I’m going insane,” He sounds so tired of keeping up the charade, tired of being everyone’s perfect gentleman, just tired of it all.

“Have you told your team?”

“Yeah. After this Olympics cycle, I’m pulling back. I need to before it’s too late, you know?”

“Absolutely. I don’t want you to burn out even more.”

“I’ve been burnt out for ages, so what’s a little bit longer,” He chuckles bitterly. It felt like a poor response the moment you said it, but something in you hoped it wasn’t wrong to be concerned.

“So you’re gonna do the charity skate tomorrow even though you’re burnt out,” You predict.

“I mean, yeah, the skating itself isn’t the problem. I love performing, I’m just not built to keep going without consistent breaks anymore,” He reasoned.

It made complete sense knowing how quickly his career ascended once he entered the elite circuit. He hasn’t left the top 10 of the World Standings since his first full elite competition season which is incredibly hard for anyone to keep up throughout their career.

It’s no wonder that he’s tired of keeping an unmanageable pace.

“I’m sorry,” You whisper. You don’t know what else to say. What could you even tell him?

“Please, it’s not your fault.”

“Do you want me to put this in the interview? Or just write some filler paragraph about it?” You giggle through the last question and he's amused as well.

“Filler, please. I’m confident you won’t make me sound like a dick,” He plants a kiss on your cheek as a silent thank you.

“I promise I won’t.”

“I am excited for the show tomorrow though,” He shifts the conversation and it’s a welcome change.

“Anything fun planned for your number?” You asked.

From what you’ve read, Joshua’s rink held the annual charity skate event in order to honor the professional skaters who train in their facilities, allowing them space to perform routines that they may not have had the chance to otherwise. Notoriously, skaters were extremely flashy with their songs and costumes since there was significant creative freedom.

“Not really, it’s nostalgic of my old numbers.”

“Will I remember it?”

“Definitely, it made your ranking of my best performances forever ago,” His laugh vibrates through your body.

“That list definitely holds up, by the way,” You defend your teenage choices blindly, you definitely hadn’t seen it since you posted it, but it’s nice that he actually remembered some of the content you posted.

“I know you’ll love it,” He presses a long kiss on your cheek once again, but lingers against your face this time.

You’re back to silence again for a few minutes.

“I’m sorry it’s been so long since we’ve seen each other,” You apologized. You can sense that he’s already shaking his head no at your words before you can finish your sentence.

“It’s just as much my fault as it’s yours.”

“You know I was avoiding you, though,” You clarified.

“I noticed that,” You could tell that he was smiling through the response, it makes your cheeks burn.

“I was definitely doing the same though,” He immediately follows it up. In all honesty, it was a relief that both of you decided to bury yourselves in shaping your respective careers. You were unintentionally coping in the same ways, silently hoping the other person was making better choices.

Alas, you were too similar for that to be true.

“But you know what?”

“Hm?”

“I’m really proud of you. I haven’t told you that enough and I feel terrible. I should’ve been there for you,” he replies earnestly.

After all this time, he was proud of you. In retrospect, you thought you were too obsessive or had unintentionally crossed his boundaries as a fan. Yet, that was never the case. He was always grateful that you supported him at every turn, so why wouldn’t he return that gratitude to you?

You didn’t need his validation, the initial interview all those years ago was enough to satisfy you a million times over, but he needed to express it.

You were eternally grateful that he acted on that need.

However, that last part of the confession urges you to sit up completely. You turn your body as much as possible to face him without splashing the water too much.

“You were there for me.”

“Leaving comments on your Instagram is not supporting you in the way you need, you know that,” He counters.

He’s right. You adjusted your expectations for Joshua years ago, you weren’t happy with how things were, but you accepted that your communication would always be limited.

You didn’t have the courage to talk to him, you figured things would never change. It wasn’t smart, you wasted far too much time refusing to invest in your relationship simply because of your own cowardice.

It seems he also became content with barely doing enough.

“I’m sorry for doing the same thing.”

“This can be a truce, then. I want us to be closer if you want that,” He holds out his hand and you take it immediately.

“I absolutely want that,” You're grinning so hard that your cheeks hurt. “So this means you want to kiss me again?”

“You have a massive hickey on your neck and you don’t think I want to kiss you again?” He’s almost fed up, but that smirk tells you otherwise.

“I’m just making sure,” You lower your head coyly. “Come here, babe,” He beckons you over, but he’s too eager to let you make the entire distance. He captures your lips with ease, placing his hand on your cheek. You steady yourself with your hand on his arm, leaning into the kiss with a sense of urgency.

It’s only a few moments before you pull back. “Josh, the water is so fucking cold,” You laugh through your shivers.

He reaches behind you to open the drain and kisses you again. You can’t help but smile against his lips.

The new uncharted territory you’ve forged with him makes your skin burn with excitement.

—

As soon as you arrive at the backstage area of the rink, Joshua’s whisked away by his stylist and assistants to the dressing room. You’re escorted to a VIP viewing area towards the top of the rink, a lounge with access to multi-view screens and a bird’s eye view of the ice.

Before the show starts, you familiarize yourself with the other figure skaters performing tonight. You’ve heard of all of them to some extent, having watched them in anticipation of Joshua’s performances in the past at invitationals and other competitions. Tonight was no different, as Joshua would be the last skater performing tonight.

The marketing team knew exactly what they were doing with that decision.

There were definitely fans of the other skaters dispersed throughout the stadium, but most people you saw were Joshua fans, carrying slogans and wearing merch with his name on it.

Some people even recognize you on the way up to the VIP section which throws you for a loop. They were mainly shocked that you were even at this kind of event in the first place, but it felt validating to be complimented for something outside of him.

Although the other skaters are highly entertaining to watch, your mind feels ready to see Joshua perform. Their performances are satisfying, but that particular spark is missing. It feels reminiscent of when you’d anxiously stay up to watch livestreams of his performances at 3 am, live updating your followers on the exact time when Joshua would be performing.

It was bittersweet to be able to watch him in person. It’s been years since you’ve watched him perform in the flesh, but the circumstances feel perfectly aligned.

“Performing Every moment of you, please welcome Joshua Hong,” The announcer’s voice booms through the stadium speakers and the stadium erupts into cheers. The sight of him waving to the camera is enough to leave the stadium in shambles, so his steps onto the ice are even more precious.

The pink top was the right choice now that he’s about to perform. He made you pick between a few options earlier in the day, but the sheer sleeves and pastel color match the mood perfectly. His side parted hair is neatly styled and light makeup highlights his soft features. The lighting really does his face justice as he purses his lips slightly, adjusting his head slightly down to enter his starting pose.

He moves a hand onto his heart and tucks his right leg behind his left.

As soon as the music starts, your heart clenches.

He chose this particular song, out of all his older routines. This song was in constant rotation throughout his first elite competition season, you could practically see it in your sleep.

When you watch him, you notice that the routine has barely changed either, the step sequences are just as smooth as you remember with delicate flairs of his new style.

The music is somehow more emotional than you remember, a sign that his artistry evokes such a vivid image that you can only think of him and this particular routine when you hear the song.

The execution of his combination jumps are flawless as always, and the audience agrees with loud applause every time he lands them. It seems as though he doesn’t have to try as he glides around the rink, a dreamy expression paints his face as he visibly connects with the lyrics.

He always transformed into a new character in every routine while still maintaining his own distinct style, it was something you deeply admired about his skating.

Before you know it, the song slowly comes to a close and Joshua stands in that final pose you remember so well, his face settling into a soft smile.

The crowd is absolutely obsessed with him, you look to see that many people were on their feet for a standing ovation. You immediately join in, looking toward his reaction. The cameras capture his shock, he’s pleasantly surprised by all the fanfare. He takes it in for another minute or so, looking up at the people in the stands with appreciative eyes. He finally bows his head and waves before skating off the ice.

When the entire group is called back onstage for final bows and the closing ceremony, he is once again dazzled by how intensely the crowd cheers for him once he’s introduced onstage. It’s precious to watch him try to shake it off with his hands on his face, looking to his fellow performers for a way to avoid the attention. He has always been appreciative of his support, always remaining humble in the face of his popularity constantly growing.

It doesn’t take as long as you expected for him to meet up with you. He asks you to wait in the hallway outside his dressing room, and he soon emerges; he barely lets you get a word out before enveloping you in a hug.

“What did you think?”

“I didn’t think you’d pick that one, honestly!” Your enthusiasm quiets when he kisses you and you suddenly feel acutely aware of the staff around you. He notices your shyness and pulls himself against your ear again.

“We’ll be alone soon, okay? I’m glad you liked it,” He punctuates his sentence with a kiss on the cheek. It made you relax into his touch and hold your hand while you were still in the venue.

Once outside, he lets go to briefly wave at the crowd of his fans before placing his hand on the small of your back.

You hear the gasps when he does it, but you don’t look back at the crowd. The judgment stays in your skin once you’re both escorted into the SUV, even when Joshua’s trying to get your attention with kisses to your hand.

“What are you thinking about, babe?”

“Nothing,” It’s easier to lie in the moment. He eyes you for a bit longer but ultimately doesn't question you any further.

You can’t tell him that everything feels especially temporary now. You know what it’s like to be on the opposite side of it as a fan, the initial feeling of seeing him make contact with a new romantic interest is always shocking. Neither of you owed them anything, you never had to reveal the depth of relationship if that’s what you both wanted.

He says he wants you, but that inevitable “what happens next” conversation hasn’t happened and you’re leaving in the next 48 hours. If there was any time to figure out the definition of your relationship, it was now.

Although the conversation in the bath last night was enlightening, you needed some kind of finality. You wouldn’t let yourself fall for vague promises anymore.

Will he make you a priority when his schedule is about to amp up even more?

If you needed to move on, you’d rather know now before you’re on another 13 hour flight left to your own devices.

—

You’re able to tag along with Joshua to his practice session with his coach on your last full day in town.

Although the conclusion of the trip takes up most of your brain space, it’s still interesting to watch his skating become informed by a new perspective. You couldn’t hear all of the critiques in detail, but it was enough to understand how Joshua’s energy was shaped through their leveled guidance.

He switched from his longtime coach once he broke his ankle, understandably citing that the old coach had pushed him to the point of collapse, no matter how grateful he may have been for his old coach’s support thus far.

The dynamic was far more supportive, you concluded. You were able to get more writing done, but your eyes drift to him more often than not.

He practices intensely for around 6 hours today, still a considerate amount of time considering the other practice days in his schedule. He didn’t appear distracted when you were watching him, but he was clearly eager to be alone with you again. He was practically pulling you into the front door once you arrived at his home.

He leads you upstairs to his bedroom before closing the door quickly.

“Kiss me,” His request is urgent, and you oblige despite feeling hesitant.

It’s best to just kiss him, to enjoy a good thing standing right in front of you while you have it.

He’s showing all his tells that he wants more than just kisses, cradling the back of your head, moaning into your mouth. It all still feels so enticing.

Yet, as always, he seems to notice something’s off before you can. He must notice the tension in your body that you tried your best to will away. He pulls out of the kiss and examines your eyes.

“Are you ok?” He’s slightly panting. You force yourself to close your eyes to steady your nerves.

“No,” you admit.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t do this, you know that.” He knows exactly what you mean by the way his shoulders drop. He looks nervous, not sure if he’s about to lose you.

“Why not? What would be so wrong about being with me?” He’s genuinely upset, fighting your answer almost instantly. Therein lies the problem, there’s nothing wrong about dating him as a person. It was simply the logistics that made everything far more complicated than your heart could bear.

“Nothing,” your voice trembles. “It would be great,” A tear falls from your eye and he’s already reaching up to wipe it away. You don’t stop him from touching your face.

“But I can’t be halfway across the world from you, I can’t watch you pretend to love me and then start dating someone else right in front of my face again.”

“You know dating Ara wasn’t my choice, I wouldn’t do that to you again,” His voice is strangely quiet.

Ara was a famous Korean actress who was practically a critic’s darling at this point in her career. She dated Joshua for 4 years, long enough for the Korean public to become absolutely enamored with the idea of them. The concept of Korea’s charming upcoming actress and Korea’s technical skating prince dating each other was obviously popular among netizens, so their sudden breakup was quite shocking.

Their conflicting schedules made it a perfect storm for them to stop speaking to each other.

It all ended very publicly, but somehow Joshua was still beloved in the end. He always was.

At a work gala he was the guest of honor for, he told you that he wanted to be with you over drinks. There were many kisses exchanged in a secluded hallway, promises linger against your skin and you thought they were real.

She was his plus one, but he insisted that they were just friends.

You trusted him, and their relationship was announced a few days later. You were crushed, it made you regret ever thinking you could be more than a fan who simply pushed her luck.

“You stayed with her for 4 years, you loved her,” You persisted.

“No, I didn’t.”

“She said you did,” It bites harder than you expect, but it’s true. There were numerous interviews of her confirming the depths of their relationship. Whenever she mentioned him, there was always long-term commitment implied.

“I promise you I didn’t.” He squares his jaw as he insists on it being false.

“Why did you lie? Why didn’t you just let me down easy? You do it with literally every fan,” You shake your head, knowing exactly what he’s been through. You’ve seen the death threats, ultimatums, and invasive love offers that he’s received over the years. If he could handle that with grace, he could at least give you a proper response.

“You know you mean more to me than that,” He begged.

“If I mean more to you, then you shouldn’t have done it,” You respond. It’s selfish, you know it is.

“You can’t be fucking serious! It was to further my career, you of all people should know that,” He yelled. His voice doesn’t deter you, it simply makes you more determined.

“You could’ve fought back like you’ve done at any other point of your career. You should have fought for me,” You try to yell back but your voice falters again.

“This is me fighting for you, I want you,” He pleaded, moving closer to you out of desperation. Yet, you avoid his eye contact to close your eyes.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” You griped, shaking your head out of frustration. You hate that he’s dodging the question. You’ve seen him fight over much less, you’re not sure why he can’t recognize that he could’ve tried for you.

“You’re fighting me over hypotheticals, shit that hasn’t even happened yet.”

“You had another reason,” You state unremarkably, finally opening your eyes again. It was never a black or white situation, not with him.

“What?”

“You stayed with her for another reason.”

He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and internally resets before looking at you again.

“I didn’t want you to feel tied to me. I already knew what people were saying about you because of me, I knew you didn’t want me overshadowing your career. I didn’t want to haunt you,” He seems desperate to make you see his side of it.

“But you did, from the moment I met you. I knew I’d never be able to get over you. I built up a picture of you in my mind for years, and you actually fit it. I was stupid enough to think that my dumb luck would actually let me date you,” You confessed. You lower your head by the time you finish speaking.

He didn’t seem to understand that the dynamic would’ve always been uneven between you, but you were willing to risk it.

“Y/N,” He starts.

“I was fucking devastated that I still needed you,” you interrupt him, “I was doing perfectly fine, but I knew I would regret not doing this interview. I let you in one last time, to see if it’d be different than before, but you’re not ready. You’re still not ready and it was my fault for expecting too much of you.”

The silence is loud, you both have to process all of the feelings stirred up between you.

“I’m sorry.”

You��re not sure if that’s enough.

“Just indulge me for a second, do you love me?” You ask desperately.

He doesn’t speak. He looks torn, as if he wants to but something deep inside himself still hesitated to admit it. It confirms your worst fear, that even when there’s no other obstacles in the way, he can’t be what you need.

You scoff, wiping your face once again.

“Thanks for letting me stay here, I guess,” You walk back to your room and shut the door behind you. You unconsciously listen for any movement outside the door, to see if he would chase after you.

He doesn’t.

He does a variety of tasks in the kitchen, you hear running water and the sound of cabinet doors shutting, but he never approaches the door.

The kitchen light turns off and you hear his bedroom door shut.

You’re honestly glad he left you alone, but it doesn’t make it any easier to swallow.

As you settle into bed, you remember that he wanted to drive you to the airport tomorrow.

You’d rather walk the entire way than let him see you like this.

—

Joshua is an idiot, all things considered.

It was right there, he had the chance to tell you everything and give you his entire heart, but the words were stuck in his throat. He can barely go to sleep that night, but he could at least send you off to the airport the next morning.

It was wishful thinking that the drive would be any less painful, but he could at least fulfill his promise of taking you there. Thus, he doesn’t expect the guest room to be empty when he stumbles out of his room to go make himself breakfast.

He’s suddenly on high alert, thinking of all the things that could’ve possibly happened to you.

His internal monologue stops when he sees a note downstairs on the kitchen counter. He picks it up and curses under his breath.

“Changed my flight, your driver took me to the airport. Thanks again for letting me stay. - Y/N”

The message feels so stiff, it lacks any of your personality. Yet, he couldn’t pity himself for too long, he had to find you.

He had no idea if your flight had already taken off or not, but he at least had a location. Your original flight wasn’t until late afternoon, so he figured you must have been really fed up to change it to a mid-morning flight. The anger you felt transcended your hatred of mornings, and that was enough to really get Joshua moving.

He decided to stick with the clothes he had on to minimize the amount of time in the house. He wasn’t sure if it was smart to buy an impulse ticket for a flight he wasn’t going on, but he did it anyway.

As he sat in his car, he wasn’t sure if he locked the front door, but the adrenaline made him forget altogether.

The drive to the airport was a complete blur, he was certain that he blew through a few just-turned-red lights in an effort to get there. Once he arrives, he is anything but discreet.

He thanks his lucky stars that he gets a short security line so that he can run through the airport to find you. He only stops to check the massive flight board for flights to your city before picking up the pace again, almost running into a few people on the way.

He just had to make it to gate 12.

He spots the gate out of the corner of his eye, almost missing it due to his haste. He scans his eyes quickly across the group of people to see if you could possibly be there.

He’s almost given up on searching for you, but just like the movies, he finds you sitting in the corner wearing that particular writing hoodie.

He knows whatever way he chooses to approach you, it’ll scare you. Yet, he opts for the least terrifying option.

He walks over, taking a small breath before speaking up.

“Hi,” It comes out far too hesitant, but it still gets your attention. You look up at him, evidently confused but annoyance shows up quicker.

“What are you doing here?” You’re not moved at all, he felt like an inconvenience.

“We need to talk. Can I sit with you?” He points to the empty chair and you stare at him for a moment. You quietly oblige, giving a quick nod. You didn’t reject him outright, so that’s a win in his book.

“I’m really sorry about last night. I should’ve told you how I felt,” His voice is hushed so as to not disturb anyone else around you. Most people were sitting further away, but he didn’t want to take any chances. You only look forward, not acknowledging him at all.

“I thought about everything and you were right to be worried. I haven’t shown you that you can trust me to commit,” He continues.

“Whatever you want to do, that’s fine. I just,” He stops his train of thought to take a breath.

“I love you. I should’ve told you the moment you asked me, I should’ve told you the first day you came to town. I always knew,” He finishes with a shaky breath. You both sit in silence for longer than he’d like, but it’s understandable. Your longtime crush lets you down then admits he’s loved you for ages, it’s a lot for anyone to process.

“Joshua?”

He turns to face you. “Yeah?”

“That was corny as fuck,” You let out a laugh, covering your mouth with your hand. He’s happy to see you smile for a bit, even if it’s at his expense.

“I know, I just needed to tell you before you left,” He laughs quietly. It covers up the temporary embarrassment he feels. No matter what you tell him, he figures that it was worth it to put everything on the line.

“I forgive you, though. And I love you too,” You smile through the reply and your voice is the softest he’s ever heard it.

The newness of it all makes him blush.

“Still can’t look at me, huh? Do I make you nervous?” He touches your shoulder in a silent plea for you to let him in.

“Fuck off,” You finally make eye contact with him and grab his hand, fingers automatically intertwined with his. You press the back of his hand to your mouth for a kiss. The gesture quiets all his lingering fears.

“I’m not relocating for you though, I like my apartment and my job,” You give him a pointed look.

“I wouldn’t ask you to do that. Plus I told you I’m trying to slow down, remember?” The realization hits your face and it makes him giggle.

“Does that mean you’re moving in with me?”

“It might,” He suggests. He thinks he’s a pretty decent roommate, but he’d change his bad habits in a heartbeat if it meant you were more comfortable.

“Not before the Olympics though. And you’d need to sell the house, right?”

“Yeah. Shit, you’re really getting ahead of me here,” He didn’t really consider all the details yet, especially thinking about how shocked his management team would be at the decision, but he knew you were too good to lose.

He lived enough of his life without you, and it was time to switch things up.

“Just making sure you’re aware of what all of this would mean,” You remind him. It was a completely fair critique considering how many directions his life was currently being pulled in.

“Of course, but I’m coming to visit before I move. Many times,” He’s already mentally planning out a schedule in his head, plotting out weekend getaways and week-long trips just to spend time with you again.

“You won’t have your own room though, sorry,” You sigh in fake concern.

“I think we can make that work,” He assured you with a smile.

“I still can’t believe you bought a fucking plane ticket to get past security to come find me. You’re insane,” You shake your head at him in disbelief.

“Your boyfriend is insane,” He stresses the term, “and it was the right thing to do. I couldn’t let you get away like that.”

You both talk for a while, just drinking in each other’s presence as a new couple. While you’re recounting your metal detector encounters, it hits him that he doesn’t know when he’ll see you again.

Everything keeps getting busier between the two of you, and the possible timeframe of him moving seems further and further away with each passing moment.

He desperately wants to slow everything down in his career immediately, for all of his responsibilities to be taken care of for him.

The boarding process begins and he’s wistful, he didn’t think it would hurt so deeply to let you go home. He pulls you into a tight hug, his head nestled into the crook of your neck. “I love you so much, baby,” His voice wavers.

“Don’t fucking cry, you’ll make me cry,” You whisper, curling into his body even further. It makes him smile despite the tears streaming down his cheeks.

“I’ll see you soon, okay? I promise,” He attempts to steady his voice, but it’s no use. The moment he has the love of his life, you’re already leaving.

You lean back and press your lips to his, you move as quickly as time permits. It’s not the kiss he wants, but it’s enough to sate him.

He pulls away first, kissing your cheek before standing back to get a good look at you.

“Now go, they’re about to finish up your section,” He pointed to the gate with a watery laugh, finally wiping his cheeks from the tears.

You wave one last time as your ticket gets scanned and you’re no longer in view.

He’s not ready to go back to an empty house, one without you sitting on the couch bundled up in his blankets, staring at your computer with squinted eyes. He’s not ready to fall asleep without you next to him and wake up the next day knowing you wouldn’t be up until midday.

You’ve worked your way into his life and he can’t picture another second without you in it.

He decides that whenever you’re available to talk on the phone, you would plan his first visit.

That was the only way he could cope with the time and distance that seemed impossible to cross.

—

The Joshua profile is edited and completed in due time, somehow without losing your sanity.

Joshua is always sending you his edits, many of which are rejected the moment he comments them. Yet, you promise him that he can have input on another piece.

Once it’s approved through final edits, the profile is received well, all things considered. While there are unavoidable critiques, it still resonates with fans and writers alike. It goes considerably less viral than your other content with him, but viral nonetheless. It gets another boost in attention when Joshua reveals your relationship to the public exactly two months after it’s posted, and people are now re-examining the profile for signs of love blooming in between the lines.

These recent post-profile interviews he did were keeping you company during your downtime after work. You’d find yourself watching them on your laptop in bed, craving the sound of his voice when he was caught up in practice. He told you to watch this one specifically when it was uploaded though, so you decided to listen to him.

“So we have to talk about your relationship and the article,” The late night host segues into the new topic and Joshua handles it with ease.

“Of course,” He’s nodding along.

“So you fall in love with one of your biggest fans and do this reunion interview after 10 years? What’s the whole story?”

“Well, she’s been a fan of mine for my entire career and we first met when she made this viral blog post about me qualifying for my first Olympics,” He recounts the story for what feels like the millionth time, but you still eat it up every time. He has an exact script that you can almost know how he’ll phrase it.

“We film an interview and that goes even more viral, like 20 million views or something crazy,” He stops to laugh for a moment and the audience laughs along with him.

“We met up a few times over the years, but I finally suggested we do something for the 10 year anniversary of the interview. That’s how it all came together,” He nods with a grin.

“That’s amazing, is there anything you want to tell her?”

He looks directly into the camera and takes a breath. “Just that I miss you and love you very much,” His voice softens and the audience lights up with applause. He blows a kiss to the camera before the host switches topics once again, moving on to more Olympics talk for the rest of the video.

The declaration of love is simple, he’s not the kind of guy to make these big sweeping gestures of love, but it’s more than enough for you. You send him a quick text approving of the video and your heart is extremely full.

He moves in right after the Olympics end, but he’ll have a chance to properly decompress from the competition. The anticipation is enough to almost drive you insane, but the wait will be worth it.

—

The Olympics are a complete blur, as expected. You try to enjoy other events during your time there, but the men’s individual skate is the only thing on your mind. Joshua tried to make things for you as comfortable as possible despite living in the designated Olympic Village. He always complained that he wasn’t able to see you by sending you lots of heartfelt texts, but you teased him that he just needed to focus on competition.

Joshua won the gold medal, as expected by numerous sports networks and prediction experts.

You knew he’d win too, obviously.

Although he performed last in the final group, moving his rank down to 5th before his free skate performance, his final showing put him 10 full points above 2nd place.

Your boyfriend, who has been swept up in podium ceremonies, post-skate interviews, and a celebratory dinner is finally alone with you in your hotel room and you intend to make the most of it.

“Congratulations,” You’re practically yelling in his ear as he smothers you in a hug, clutching the back of your head. He’s free of the costume and makeup from earlier in the night, even his team tracksuit was exchanged for an old shirt and shorts.

“Thank you, baby,” His response is muffled against your shirt. You pull away to admire his face for a moment before leaning in for a deep kiss.

He’s feeling just as desperate as you are, swiping his tongue into your mouth with ease. It’s been so long since you’ve had a chance to just kiss him, let alone see him for more than a few minutes at a time. There were still press circuits and endless events for him to attend, but for a moment he was simply your gold medalist.

You barely come up for air for the next few minutes, getting all of the long distance reunion induced kisses out of your system. You step away to breathe against his neck and collect your thoughts.

“I’m so proud of you, like I was fully sobbing in my seat after the scores.”

“You were?” He questions, eyes widening.

“Of course, you’ve worked so hard to get here after everything. It makes me wanna cry all over again,” You’re so fond that it makes your heart swell for him.

“My poor baby, crying her eyes out over me like the good old days,” He coos.

“Yeah,” You let out a shaky laugh and wiped a stray tear from your eye. There were no ways to describe how it felt to watch the love of your life succeed from so many points of view, in some ways your relationship is a time capsule of your adolescence.

Joshua is simultaneously the object of your youth and the promise of a better future.

The journey is never lost on you, all of the time spent learning each other all over again reinvigorated your spirit.

“I’m ready to go home with you, I’m just so tired,” He whispers. The collective stress of the past few years is catching up with him now that the hardest part is over, that sense of normalcy needed to come sooner rather than later.

“I know, love. Just a few more days and we can sleep in as much as we want,” You think out loud, but he seems to like the idea as you cup his face in your hands. The tension melts from his face the longer you stay still and he lets out a quiet hum.

“Can we cuddle?”

“Of course,” You would’ve wanted to do it anyway, but you couldn’t say no to him in this state.

Once you both crawled onto the bed, he naturally put his head on your chest. It doesn’t take long before you’ve both fully relaxed into each other’s touch. The silence is needed after nonstop stimulation from the outside world.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.” He doesn’t hesitate this time, it's saturated with adoration for you. You feel the warmth on your cheeks and respond accordingly.

“I love you too.”

He sits up, staring at you with so much love in his eyes. He kisses you just to do it, but it’s perfectly fine by you.

You swear that you could live in this moment forever. There would always be deadlines approaching, endless amounts of work waiting for you, but these moments were too precious to take for granted.

There’s so much love for him in your body that it doesn’t know where to go, but you figure that you’ll find somewhere to place it within due time.

There’s no use in grieving wasted time when his love is nestled so neatly in your heart, allowing you to indulge in the infinite futures you’re able to build together.

He’s not going anywhere, there’s still time.

There will always be time.

#YALLLLLLL ITS DONEEEEEEE #I’m so fucking happy you have no idea #this is quite literally a novel so sorry lol #joshua smut #joshua fluff #joshua scenarios #joshua angst #joshua fic #svt fluff #svt smut #svt angst #seventeen smut

[holdmytesseract]

i LOVE Baby Fever!

I know it says your requests are closed, but mind if I submit a Baby Fever idea for a rainy day if you ever need it?

I had to take my kid to the dentist for th3e first time the other day and she was a wreck, and it got me wondering what it would look like Loki was comforting Ella before she has to do something scary, like go to the dentist or the first time.

If that's not inspiring, it can be anything, like a first performance, first day at school, or another situation that would be frightening for a child? I bet you'd make something lovely.

Biggest Fear

☆ The Baby Fever AU ☆

Loki, Ella & Narfi

Summary: It's time to pay the dentist a visit - which is Narfi's biggest fear...

Warnings: angst, fluff

Word Count: 998

a/n: I loved this idea so much, but I don't know if I like what I wrote... I don't know if I got it right... I struggled a bit, but well... I hope you guys like it! :)

Baby Fever Crew: @lady-rose-moon @muddyorbsblr @chennqingg @smolvenger @alexakeyloveloki @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @jennyggggrrr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @eleniblue @loz-3 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @fictive-sl0th @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @lovingchoices14 @glitchquake @lokidbadguy @icytrickster17 @mandywholock1980 @november-rayne @xthatpottahfanx @simping-for-marvel @lou12346789 @aagn360 @anukulee @multifandom-worlds @hisredheadedgoddess28 @vbecker10 @jaidenhawke @km-ffluv @lokiforever @crimson25 @kimanne723 @cakesandtom @buttercupcookies-blog @salvinaa @javagirl328 @noideakitten @zombiesnips-blog @dustychinchilla74 @frzntrx @lokisgoodgirl @princess-ofthe-pages @coldnique @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokisrealpurpous @huntedmusicgardenn @lokischambermaid

Baby Fever Masterlist °☆• Loki Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

"Ella?" Loki called out for his daughter, before walking inside the living room, where she sat on the sofa and watched TV. "Come on, princess. We have to go," he said; her little jacket in his big hands. Ella looked up; nodding at him. "I'm coming, daddy." She reached for the remote and switched off the telly. "Where's your brother?" The young girl shrugged her shoulders as she hopped down from the sofa. "I dunno. Probably hiding in his room, because he's afraid and doesn't want to go." Realisation dawned on Loki. He should've known. He should've seen it coming. "Alright. I'll look after him. Be a good girl and get dressed already, yes?" "Sure, daddy." Ella took her jacket from Loki and marched off into direction main door. Sighing, the god made his way to his son's room. He found the door open, "Narfi?" so he stepped inside. Looking around, the little boy was nowhere to be seen. "Narfi, we have to go. I know you're in here; hiding somewhere…"

A small head full of black curls appeared from behind the huge lion plushie, which the boy had been gifted by his uncle Scott. "I don want to go, dada..." The two-and-a-half-year-old whispered; already fighting the tears. Loki's heart cracked at the sight; his expression turning immediately incredibly soft. "I know, little prince..." He said, squatting down and opening his arms. An offer the little boy took gladly. He literally ran into his father's arms. "But we have to go to the dentist. It's important."

Yes... The constantly recurring dentist problem... It wasn't Narfi's first time to pay the doctor a visit, but given the fact that his first time having his little teeth checked was quite traumatizing for the little boy, he was afraid to go again - understandably. Loki hated to push him through this again and again, but he had to, unfortunately. Sure, he tried several times to still his fears, but in vain...

Narfi shook his head; rubbing his eyes. He was still fighting the tears, but his bottom lip wobbled dangerously. "I'm afwaid, dada." Loki pressed a lingering kiss on Narfi's forehead. "I know you are - and that's okay. We all have something we are afraid of. But... You don't want to be afraid of Dr. Felix, do you?" "Nu.Uh." "See? I promise I'll be there the whole time. I'll hold your hand and I am not letting go. And your sister will be there, too. Okay?" Loki could still see the fear in his son's eyes, as a few big tears rolled down the boy's cerulean cheeks. "O-Okay..." The god gave him a soft smile and pressed another kiss on his face - this time it was the left cheek. "Let's go then." Loki stood up; taking the boy with him and carrying him within his arms. "Besides, how can we be sure that your little toothies are growing the way they should?" He added; gently tickling Narfi's tummy with one hand. It caused him to giggle and smile at least a bit.

Once everybody was ready, Loki took his two kids to Dr. Felix. Unfortunately, Narfi's fear didn't ease up. Rather quite the opposite... The more time that passed and the closer they got to be called up, the small boy's fear increased continuously. While Ella was completely chilled and was having fun in the little kid's corner of the waiting room, Narfi's grip on Loki tightened with every passing minute. He was holding on to his father for dear life. Loki tried of course to reassure him; stroke soothing circles across his small back and whisper sweet encouragements inside his ear. It was helping a bit, but not to a full extent.

Therefore, it was almost like a nightmare coming true for the little Frost Giant, when a nurse entered the waiting room and called up both, his and Ella's name. Loki was about to stand up and carry Narfi again, when he literally clasped onto Loki's emerald green shirt; every muscle in his body tightening. Thick tears rolled down Narfi's cheeks again. "Daddy, don wanna go," he sobbed into the god's shirt; wetting it. "I know, little prince, but we have to. I'm sorry."

Ella saw the scenes unfolding as well. When she saw her brother like this, her expression soft. A small hand landed on Narfi's back as well. "Don't cry, Narfi. I was afraid of Dr. Felix, too the first time, but he's just trying to help you." Narfi turned slowly in his dad's arms to look at his big sister. "You are afwaid, too?" He asked; rubbing his red, swollen eyes. "I was, yes, but I know that we can do this together." The little boy looked up at his sister with big, ruby eyes. "Togefwa?" Ella smiled, "Together." and reached for Narfi's hand. He took it, of course. Loki let him down and watched how his eldest child led his youngest child towards the door of the waiting room. The god could literally feel the love pumping through his veins. He stood up and quickly went to follow them.

Ella squeezed Narfi's small hand gently, whispering: "I am going to hold your hand and I promise I won't let go, okay?" Loki could see the boy nodding, before he inched closer to his sister. At that gesture, Loki's heart almost bursted; seeing how much Ella loved her younger brother and how she took care of him.

Due to Ella's positive effect on Narfi, went the actual dentist appointment very smoothly. Sure, Narfi had been still afraid, but Ella managed to still most of his fears. She was everything what Narfi needed in that moment - and she was there for him. After the appointment, Loki took both kids to eat some ice cream. They had clearly deserved one. Both of them.

From that point on, Narfi wasn't that afraid anymore to go to the dentist - as long as Ella was with him.

#the baby fever au #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki x female reader #loki x you #tom hiddleston x reader #loki #loki fanfiction #loki x y/n #loki fluff #loki laufeyson x reader

[ramp-it-up]

The Playlist: F*cking Bucky

Summary: Bucky’s seduction powers are on 100. Can you continue to resist him, or will you give in?

Pairing: Dark CEO! Bucky Barnes x Journalist! Reader

Word count: more than 3K

Warnings: As always, 18+ ONLY, SMUT. Minors DNI. Steve, Sam and Natasha, pining playlists, jealousy, flirting, voyeurism, eavesdropping, cybersex, dirty talk, unknown? masturbation for an audience, running for pleasure, degradation kink, definite Dom/sub elements, orgasm denial, edging, narrated masturbation, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up), pulling out, after care, pining, manipulation, mention of loss, surveillance, Dark Bucky.

A/N: I meant to put this out on the weekend, but instead I went outside, lol. This is part of the Playlist Series. Read the previous part, Chill, Buck. @ysmmsy and @blackwidownat2814 are my exquisite muses who created the playlists, with more to come. 😉 Thanks you both! 🥰 please leave feedback, like and reblog. It helps to inspire me. 😊

The playlist is real and is linked here!

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

“Hell no, Max.”

Your agent, Maxine Shaw, just offered you a ridiculous amount of money for a writing gig. It was right up your alley as you had background knowledge on the subject.

The only problem was that it involved working very closely with James Buchanan Barnes.

“First of all, one month? That's an impossible timeline. Second, Barnes is an asshole.”

That wasn’t exactly true, he was just annoying, but you felt hyperbole was appropriate for this situation.

Max leaned back in her chair, narrowing her eyes.

“You’re going to turn down this amount of money for a cake job? I’m told he already has a manuscript, you’d basically be an editor and gap filler.” 

Max stared at you, incredulous. 

“This isn’t ghostwriting, you would get a legitimate byline. A story about Barnes is sure to be a bestseller.”

Then she leaned forward and really scrutinized you.

“Romanoff said you might not be up to it. I laughed in her face. Was she right?”

You opened and then closed your mouth, face heating up. Telling you that you couldn’t accomplish something was a sure fire way to get you to do that something.

But surely Natasha didn’t know that.

You raised your chin.

“Send me the info.”

Bucky walked into the room at 8:30 am, exactly the same time he did everyday, when he was confident that he would be the first to arrive. Sam and Steve usually didn’t arrive until 9. He liked his quiet time.

This morning, however, he was greeted with laughter in the room and Natasha waiting for him as the elevator opened.

“Morning, Boss.”

She handed Bucky some files and watched as he stared at the scene in front of him: you sandwiched between Sam and Steve on the couch.

“Well, hello, Buck! I see you finally made it in this morning.”

Steve stood up first, then Sam who grinned at Bucky, who only had eyes for you.

Bucky raised his eyebrow as he came toward you, then stopped short of being able to reach out and touch.

He took you in as he approached. You were wearing a wrap dress that showcased your figure nicely. Almost too nicely. You looked amazing. He knew his friends and he knew they had already checked you out. Possessiveness coursed through Bucky’s body as he looked down at you.

That little jaw clench and the glare in Bucky’s eye did things to you. You felt as if you were in trouble. 

And why did that make you wet? 

“To what do we owe the pleasure?” 

Bucky addressed you as you looked up at him, staring at him with those damn doe eyes. You looked a little scared. It made him want to pull you into the bathroom and…He cleared his throat.

“Ms. YLN wanted to begin her work with you by interviewing your two best friends who also happen to be the COO and the CFO of CapTech. We were just about to start breakfast.”

Bucky scanned the room to see the dining table set up with quite the spread.

“Begin her work?” 

Although he was responding to Nat’s statement, he was looking straight at you.

“I’m beginning my work on the memoir. Background information.”

Bucky looked confused for a moment, then he turned to Natasha. 

“Ah, the memoir. I didn't realize we’d decided on the writer for that.”

Natasha was nonplussed. She shrugged.

“Well, YN did such a fantastic job on the profile that I thought she deserved first shot at this.”

Bucky looked annoyed, but then looked back at you.

“Of course. I hope you didn’t feel pressured.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. He didn’t seem to want you to do this. Well, fuck him. You drew yourself up to your full height, which in heels was four inches shorter than him.

“The contracts are signed, Mr. Barnes. But if you want to break them…”

“I’m not sure we can afford that,” interjected Sam, ever the CFO. “That’s not a good financial plan.” 

Then he turned to you, smile blinding. You couldn’t help but smile back at him. 

“I guess you’re right, Mr. Wilson. Because I would hold you to the termination fee.”

Bucky scowled as your tone changed to playful. Steve was already at the table pulling out your chair.

“Okay. Sam has been monopolizing your time all morning, let’s talk about what it takes to operate this company day to day…”

You chuckled and shook your head as you sat down, Sam and Steve flanking you at the table. Bucky simmered as you held court with his buddies. He watched and listened to the conversation through narrowed eyes.

“…we got into quite a few scraps when we were kids in Brooklyn, isn’t that right , Buck?”

“That’s right.” 

Bucky sipped his coffee and then responded.  

“Did Steve tell you that he weighed 90 pounds when we graduated high school?”

“Low blow…” you heard Sam say as he coughed.

You glared at Bucky, then turned to appraise Steve.

“Well, looks like he filled out nicely.” 

You put your hand on Steve’s arm and he flexed for you. You didn’t have to pretend to be impressed at the muscles underneath his suit coat.

Bucky felt both like an asshole for the jab at Steve, and a tongue tied fool, because he couldn’t find anything civil to say when his buddies were blatantly flirting with you. And when you were flirting back.

Another half hour of conversation with Sam and Steve gained you some information for the direction you wanted to steer the memoir.  The only problem was, you hadn’t read what Bucky had written. When Sam and Steve and Nat excused themselves for their 10 o’clock meeting, Bucky walked you to the door.

“I know that you don’t want me to take this job, but I have some good ideas if you let me read your manuscript….”

Bucky held up his hand.

“Wait. You know what now?”

You drew yourself up to your full height.

“Well, I…”  

You stopped for a moment and looked him in the eyes. 

“I know you said you wouldn’t ask me for anything ever again. And I know that Ms. Romanoff presented this to my agent, so I won’t charge you the termination fee..”

Bucky interrupted you again.

“I was referring to asking you anything… personal.” 

Bucky’s eyes told the story. He’d just accepted your curve. So why were you disappointed?

“You are a very talented writer. Of course I want you to do this.” 

Bucky looked down at the floor and your cute toes in your open toed heels. 

When he looked back up at you, the little boy was back.

“I just felt… 

Bucky paused and you felt as if you’d tripped and fallen into the pools of his eyes.

“Natasha didn’t let me know she had asked you so soon…”

“Oh…”

After you said it, you realized that you had been holding your breath. You took in air and watched his mouth quirk up on one side. 

“I see. You wanted to be in control of the situation.”

Bucky’s look changed; sky blue eyes turned grey.

“I do like being in control.”

All of a sudden, you couldn’t breathe again.

Maybe you liked him being in control too, the way your body was responding. Your mouth opened wider and your eyes dilated.

Bucky noticed your reaction but just took note, raised his eyebrow, and barreled ahead. You’d just given him the key to unlock the puzzle of you. His mind whirred with a plan.

“I have a home office in my brownstone. I work on my story there. Sam and Steve are… distracting.”

Sam who? Steve what? There was no other man on the earth right now.

Bucky was thinking there was no other woman but you. He cleared his throat.

“The only working copy of my manuscript is on my encrypted computer there, along with the only hard copies. We will work there.”

You hesitated before answering, and Bucky filled the void.

“I’ll send you the address and also the code to the door.”

Bucky leaned toward you and you thought he was going to kiss you, but he swerved and pressed the down button on the elevator.

This man.

“I’ll see you in the afternoon? I’ll take a late lunch and go home early. 3pm or 4pm?” 

Bucky looked at you intently as you struggled to think. He was so cute.

“3 pm it is,” He chuckled, replying only when you didn't answer.

You stepped backward into the elevator when you heard the door open.

“Yes, Sir.”

Bucky smirked as the doors closed. He turned to face Sam and Steve and the barrage that he knew was coming.

That afternoon, you carefully read the code that Bucky texted you when you arrived at his Brownstone. It was not very far at all from your apartment. How convenient, you thought. You admired the nice dark brick facade and the surrounding neighborhood. Very nice.

You entered the code on the door and pushed the heavy oak door open.

Inside, Bucky’s place was immaculate. From the piano, to the large windows, to the high ceilings and natural wood, you could tell that only the finest materials had been used. You smelled fresh paint, but also a fresh clean linen scent. 

You looked around the place and did not see a trace of Bucky’s former life except for a picture of him and Sam and Steve when they were younger.

You heard what you thought was a groan from the other room. You stopped moving and listened for it again. When you heard it, you moved toward the sound, hoping that no one was hurt.

“You are killing me, Doll.”

It was Bucky’s voice, and you thought you heard a smile in it. You stopped in the hallway and listened further.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous. I wanna see all of you. You wanna do that for me? Show me allll of you?”

You listened and quickly surmised that Bucky was talking to someone who wasn’t in the room. And he was doing more than talking.

Your cheeks heated and you felt some kind of way, but then you thought, this was his house, he was a man, and he had needs. And you’d rejected him. You couldn’t be mad. Could you?

Besides, you were the one in the wrong by eavesdropping. You tried to quietly go back out to the entryway.

“Stop! Don’t move.”

You froze, thinking you’d been caught.

“I need to see that pussy weep for me. Can you show me how I make you feel Doll? I can tell that you want me from the look on that pretty little face. Show me what is mine. I’ll show you what is yours.

You couldn’t help but peek around the corner, and had to cover your mouth in shock. Bucky was stroking himself! 

You pressed yourself up against the wall and closed your eyes, mortified. But then what you saw registered in your brain.

Bucky Barnes was hung like a horse.

You clenched your thighs together and bit your lip. Surely, you were mistaken. You had to look again.

This time, you stayed long enough to verify what you saw. Bucky’s large hand was wrapped around a beautiful specimen of a cock. He had earbuds in and was staring at a laptop screen, showing whomever he was talking to what he was working with. 

That lucky bitch.

“You want this dick?”

You peered around the corner and saw Bucky holding his cock up and pointing it at the computer. You could help but stare, because even across the room, you could tell it was huge, uncut, tan and veiny, the shiny head appearing and reappearing as he slowly jacked it.

‘I want it bad,’ you thought, and licked your lips. Then you bit your bottom lip, surprised at yourself.

“Ahhhh, shitt! I love when you do that. Touch yourself for me, please Doll?”

You straightened up again, heart beating a mile a minute. Why did you have the urge to do what he was commanding? You closed your eyes and willed your hands to stay at your sides.

“Be a good girl. Don't be a bad one. You know what happens to bad girls when I get my hands on them.”

You stood still and closed your eyes, trying to decide if you wanted to be a good girl or a bad one. You decided to be a professional woman. You started to tiptoe back down the hall.

“You better not run. Come back here. Don’t run from this dick…”

You heard Bucky murmuring to his mystery person as you slinked away. You stopped in the vestibule, shook. You heard your heart pounding in your ears and decided to just leave and walk home.

You reached your apartment in no time.

You decided to text Bucky about your appointment. You still had work to do so you decided to put what you witnessed out of your mind.

He didn’t answer, probably because he was in the shower washing cum off of his…

You had to stop. 

You decided to go for a run to clear your head.

Your pace was good. You checked your time as you rounded the curve for the second kilometer of your run. Someone swerved past you. You looked up at that voice.

“Hey, you!”

You looked back, stunned to see Bucky running, looking amazing in those shorts and a muscle shirt. Damn.

You averted your eyes from his crotch to look at him, but you kept going. He circled back to run beside you.

You were salty. He could run, but he didn’t have time to meet with you? 

“‘Lo. What are you up to?”

The question seemed straightforward enough. There wasn’t a hint of sarcasm to be found. Yet you still sideyed him.

“You good?”

Bucky sounded worried when you didn’t respond.

That voice. The connotation that phrase brought up. Yes, you were a good girl, Mr. Barnes, Sir.

You shook your head, but said, “Sure, just wondering what happened to our meeting this afternoon.”

Bucky stopped and you looked back again, but then he caught up with you.

“That wasn’t… today, was it?”

“Yeeeessss?”

Bucky looked confused. 

“I clearly remember setting our meeting up for 4 pm tomorrow afternoon…”

He looked so cute and earnest.

“No, we set it up for 3 pm today….”

At this point, you both stopped and were staring at each other. To be honest, you had been so flustered when setting up the appointment and then with the events of this afternoon, you really didn’t know what was up.

The tension between you was palpable as you stared into Bucky’s baby blues.

Bucky furrowed his brow and started to speak a couple of times. Then, you both burst out laughing.

“You know, I was kind of distracted this morning, so, I really don’t remember clearly.”

Bucky’s chest was heaving and his tongue snaked out to wet his lips. You were in his orbit, attracted to him in the worst way, but you started jogging again. That long distance chick must have Bucky wide open.

“She must be hot…”

Real subtle, y/n, you thought. 

“What? Who?” 

The surprise in Bucky’s voice was evident. You stopped again.

“I mean, must be something, or someone powerful to distract that mind of yours.”

You looked up into Bucky’s eyes, not caring if the jealousy was showing. He beamed down at you and you felt like the center of the world. But he had someone else. Right?

“Yeah, only someone powerful could distract me like that.” 

Bucky sucked his bottom lip and released it slowly while surveying your body in your tight running shorts and tank top. You felt like a bad girl. Then, Bucky resumed jogging.

“I mean, as CEO of a tech company, you probably meet women all over the world. Could be hard to navigate long distance relationships.”

You were not even trying to hide your nosiness. Bucky chuckled.

“It is hard. That’s why I don’t do long distance.”

Your surprise made you almost stumble.

“I haven’t had a real relationship since…”

Bucky glanced at you.

“Well, in a good while.”

“Hmmmmm. But you have needs. Right?”

Bucky stopped and stood toe to toe with you, so close.

“Yes, I have needs.”

He looked right through you.

“Don’t you?”

Then he took off running again.

It took you a minute to digest what he was saying, and when you got it, you slowed down. Bucky ran back to you and you both stopped again.

“So are we doing this?”

You looked up at him and stepped closer.

“I mean, you gotta run, I gotta run. Are we gonna do this? Can you keep up with me?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Bucky’s smile dropped, and his eyes became stormy again.

“I’m pretty fast now.”

“I bet. Don’t make me have to chase you, little girl.”

Your toes curled in your shoes. Bucky Barnes could get it. It was a done deal. You were exhausted of running from him, but this time he turned and ran, and you ran after him.

It was quite the workout, and Bucky most certainly paced with you, but your time was getting markedly better on the route through Bridge Park. When you ended up at the door to your apartment building, you turned to face Bucky, panting. 

“Wanna invite me up?”

You wanted nothing more. But you couldn’t help your reflex.

“No.”

“Yeah. Right. I get it. Had to ask.”

“Even though you said you wouldn’t.”

He smirked down at you. He’d been growing his hair out a little and a lock was flopping forward. You almost reached up to brush it out of his eyes, but you knew that if you touched him, even his hair, it would be game over.

Bucky’s hands were at his sides, clenched in fists to keep from touching you. He wanted to lean down to kiss you, but he wanted you to make the first move.

“Why do you want to come up?”

“For a drink…” Bucky licked his lips. “… of water.”

You gulped, your own throat parched with desire. Your eyes shined his body, to the glistening torso that was visible through the shirt to those short shorts.

“Oh.”

Now you felt rude as fuck.

“I didn’t hydrate properly…” It seemed that Bucky was getting closer, “… before the run.” 

Now he was looking over your head to try and control the inevitable. You wondered if he got off on his call earlier. Did he have any left over for you? You looked down and then toward the river when you swore you saw a bulge in Bucky’s shorts.

Somehow, you were closer to him, if you looked up, and he bent down, your lips would touch.

You turned your head and spoke to the car parked to his right.

“So you’re saying you’re…thirsty…”

“Yes…”

Bucky’s voice was gravelly and fucking sexy.

“I can bring a bottle down…”

Bucky shook his head and looked down the street.

“Nah, by the time you go up and come back down, I can get home…”

You looked toward Bucky’s house.

“Oh…”

You felt like an idiot. For a writer, you couldn’t find any other words than ‘oh.’

“Then come…come on up.”

You had to concentrate not to stutter.

“Thank you! Such a good one.”

You could hear Bucky’s smile behind you and you could practically feel his eyes on your ass as you climbed the stairs.

When you reached your apartment and entered,  Bucky looked around and then went to the window as you went into your tiny kitchen to get him a water bottle.

He turned around and looked at you piercingly as you brought it to him. You’d kicked off your running shoes when you entered the door and that made him that much taller when you were in front of him.

Bucky grabbed the bottle. Your fingers touched yet you didn’t pull them back. As you looked into his eyes, you noticed something.

“I just realized, you’re not wearing your glasses.”

He smirked at you.

“Contacts. Not a good look to have fogged up glasses when your face is getting wet…”

Your mouth opened slightly.

“...While you’re running.” 

Bucy took a sip of water, then a lager gulp, emptying the glass.

“Thank you. It was so good of you…” He looked down at you. “I feel like thanking you in some way…”

He looked around the room and then back at you. You felt guilty as hell.

“Don’t thank me. I don’t deserve it.”

He cocked his head at you.

“Tell me why you think that.”

“Because…” 

You went on to tell him what happened earlier that afternoon. His face was inscrutable as he registered the information.

“Sooo… you eavesdropped on a private conversation. A very private conversation. And then snuck back out of my home without saying anything.”

“Y-yes.”

Why did you feel as if you were in danger as Bucky moved closer to you?

“Is that why you were asking about my needs earlier?”

You didn’t, you couldn’t answer.

“Is it because you liked what you saw?”

He was circling you now, like a predator, and you were frozen to the spot. When he got behind you he raised his voice, just a little. 

“Answer me. ”

You shivered at his smooth, dangerous tone.

“I- I-yes- no- I don’t know….”

He came back around in front of you.

“Well, I can alleviate some speculation. As I said, I don’t do long distance relationships, but I can pay for what I need. And that’s nobody’s business because no one has any claim on me. Especially you. Because you said you didn’t want it. Didn’t you?”

You just stared but he gave you that look and you replied.

“I said that. Yes.”

“Have you changed your mind? What do you want, y/n?”

“I want…” 

You looked down at the floor, gathering your strength. Then back up at Bucky. 

“I want you.”

“Oh. You got aroused by what you saw, and now you want me to give you…satisfaction?…” 

You nodded, biting your lip. Now was not the time for games the way your panties were drenched.

“I feel like a little bit of a whore. And I need to be punished. Immediately.”

Your jaw dropped at what you just said.

Bucky grinned.

“Oh really. That critical? Well let’s see what we can do…”

He finally touched you, grabbing your waist and pulling you toward him for a kiss. It was everything, passionate, with a promise.

“Where is your bed?

You smiled up at him, took his hand, and led him to your bedroom.

Bucky kissed you senseless as soon as you entered the room. You took off your tank and sports bra and Bucky discarded his muscle shirt. Your eyes watered at his bare chest and abs.

He stood back and admired you.

“So gotdamn gorgeous,” Bucky whispered, almost to himself. “Take off those shorts. Don’t forget the panties.”

You hurried to obey, the situation making your pussy cry for his attention. He reached out to touch you, thumbs gently thrumming your nipples. You threw your head back and moaned. Then he drew his hands back. You looked up, mind scattered.

“I was so wrong when I assumed that you were a good girl earlier. And I’ve never been so happy to be wrong.”

Bucky watched as you bit your lip.

“You are not a good girl. Good girls don’t eavesdrop. I’m going to show you what happens to bad girls when I get my hands on them.”

The thrill that ran through your body was like nothing else.

“Do you want me to show you that? Do you want this?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Bucky drew in a breath.

“Get on your knees.”

You obeyed in .3 seconds.

“Yessss. That’s it. So obedient for me.” 

Bucky caressed the side of your face. You turned and captured his thumb in your mouth, sucking and looking up at him.

“Fuck, is that what you want? You want to suck my dick?”

You nodded, taking his thumb with you, which caused him to press it in deeper. He leaned down toward you.

“Now why would I want to go ahead and do that? You’ve been a very bad girl.”

Bucky straightened up, and pulled his dick out of his running shorts. It was more beautiful up close. You sighed as he started stroking it right in your face. 

“Do you see how I’m already dripping for you?”

You looked up at his cock, a beautiful clear bead of precum shining on its tip. Then you looked up at him and nodded.

“It’s a shame that you won’t get to suck it like you want to...” 

You whimpered in disappointment. He ignored you.

“Now, spread those knees apart and let me see how you would have gotten off tonight while you thought of me stroking off.”

He drew in a ragged breath as you looked up at him with those eyes and started to touch yourself.

“Wider, let me see that pussy from up here.”

You shifted so that he could see better what you were doing.

“Shit. That looks delicious. Get it nice and creamy for me. I’m gonna have my fill of you tonight.”

He looked pained as he jerked himself, drops of precum landing on your body. Your juices made for an audible display of your current situation; desperate for Bucky Barnes’ cock.

“Stop! Hands away.”

Bucky glared at you when you whined.

“Don’t act like a brat. You brought this on yourself. Get on the bed, ass up.”

You did as you were told, hoping that he would finally touch you.

“Now play some more for me.”

Bucky groaned as you wiggled your ass and reached for yourself.

“Stop, suck your fingers and get them wet, then stick them in as far as they will go.”

You whimpered and did as you were told, but your fingers were inadequate for what you wanted. Why you needed.

“Fuck, that little pussy looks so good. Add another finger. If I’m gonna fuck you, you need to be stretched out more than that.”

Next thing you knew, you felt his lips on your lower ones, and his tongue was doing unspeakable things to you as you fingered yourself. You saw stars at the obscene way that Bucky Barnes was eating you out.

The way he was smacking his lips and yours was curdling your brian. His tongue started licking you faster and faster and his lips were sucking your clit until you almost came. Then he stopped. You groaned in frustration.

Bucky stood up and backed away, stroking himself again.

“Turn over, do it again while I stroke myself off.” 

Again, you did as you were told.

This time, you licked your fingers obscenely, fellating them so that he could see what his cock was missing. He groaned and stroked faster as you circled your clit skillfully, playing with your nipple with your other hand.

“Fuck that looks so fucking….” 

Then he looked you in the eyes.

“You’re trying to get fucked, aren’t you?”

You nodded, trying not to seem too eager, but you were just his cock slut at this point.

“Well, if you can keep going as long as I say, and not cum, I might give you this dick.”

You bit your lip at the challenge, going to town on yourself, as nasty as you wanted to be. The faces and the grunts that came from him made it really hard to stay on earth, so you closed your eyes.

“Open. Your. Fucking. Eyes. You fucking slut.”

You snapped your eyes opened and were about to cum when you saw his big hand going a mile a minute around his bick cock, making his shiny red head appear and reappear in his palm, but he commanded, “Stop!” just in time, and grabbed your ankle, pulling you down to the edge of the bed.

“You’re about to get it now. Are you ready?”

“Yes!”

Bucky spread your thighs and spread them wide, swiping his slick cock head at your entrance.

“Can you take this cock?”

“I need it!”

“Want it raw? Want me to stretch this little pussy out?” 

Bucky was already inching inside you, causing a delicious burn that you wanted more of.

“Fuck yes!”

“Then be a good girl and….” 

Bucky slid inside you, making you take his cock like you’d never had to before with anyone else.

“Sooooo fucking wet and soooo fucking tight.” 

Bucky looked down at you, eyes shining. His chest was heaving with the effort to restrain himself. He couldn’t believe that he was where he’d wanted to be for a while now. And so he smiled at you.

“This pussy seems made for me.”

And then he started to move. It was a mind numbing experience of sensations, his thick, pulsing cock skating in the slick of your tight, stretched cunt. He fell down to his elbows and pressed his forehead against yours as you both looked down and watched the phenomenon.

“How does it feel, Sir?”

Bucky closed his eyes and groaned as his hips faltered.

“Am I wet enough?”

“Fuck!”

Your voice in his ear was making him lose the facade of control that he had hanging by a string now that he was inside you.

“Feelsss…. Feels like… Fuck! …Don’t ask me…”

“Don’t ask what? How my pussy feels for you?”

“Holy mother of god I….”

Bucky took your thighs in his hand, pulled you to the edge of the bed again and started pounding. Then, he took your windpipe between his thumb and forefinger.

“That’ll teach you to try to…”

The way your eyes rolled back in your head had Bucky spurting inside of you already. 

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit…..”

Bucky was fucking you ruthlessly. You’d never had it like this.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes!”

You clenched around his cock and Bucky pulled out at the last possible second, shooting his cum on your stomach while reaching down and plucking your clit with his thumb. You finally came with a loud yell and a smile.

When you opened your eyes, Bucky was still milking his cock over you, so you reached down, gathered some cum on your fingers, and inserted them in your mouth. Bucky’s eyes rolled and he pulsed a last little bit of spend on your body.

“Where is your bathroom?”

You pointed toward your right and Bucky went in, ran some water and came out cleaned up, and with a washcloth for you. He sat down on the bed and tenderly took care of you. Then, he leaned down and kissed the belly that he’d just used. He leaned on his elbow and stared at you.

“You satisfied?”

“Hmmmmm. Yes.”

Bucky looked worried, then cleared his throat.

“Good. That was… it was very good for me too.” 

You smiled at him, trying to reassure him, then you started to speak. He stopped you.

“No worries, this shouldn’t affect our working relationship. We’re both adults. We can be professional, right?”

What you wanted was the farthest thing from professional, but you replied, “Right.”

Bucky kissed your nose, then stood up and started getting dressed. You got up and put on your robe, seeing him to the door.

Bucky smiled at you as he left.

“Tomorrow, 4 pm. My brownstone.”

You smiled back.

“And please announce yourself when you come in?”

Bucky winked as he started down the stairs, leaving you watching him until you couldn’t see him anymore.

When he was gone, and you were alone in your apartment, you wondered how the fuck You we’re supposed to be professional when you were addicted to that dick.

You were thinking hard when Bucky sent you a message 10 minutes later.

The text said:

Something to play with ;)

Early the next morning, too early, Bucky woke up drenched in sweat and reached for his glasses, medicine, and the bottle of water next to his bed.

It had been a while since he’d had the familiar nightmare about what happened Sarah. And his baby.

Bucky sat on the edge of the bed and came back to the present. He got up to run the shower and looked into the mirror. He felt guilty for not having Sarah on his mind as much lately. But you were quite the distraction. 

He’d finally found a reason to move on with his life. 

You.

You and Sarah were nothing alike. Your spirit, and your spunk were unlike any other person he’d ever met. He couldn’t bend you to his will.

Not that Sarah had been a pushover, but with her, it had been so easy. Bucky and Sarah fell for each other at first sight and immediately started sneaking around behind Sam’s back. They’d been like yin and yang, not the oil and water that you and he had become. 

Bucky looked deep into his own eyes in the mirror to see if they still reflected the feral violence he wreaked on the men who tried to kidnap them and inadvertently killed his wife and baby in the process. 

Now, five years after all of that you made Bucky’s heart race again, something that running couldn’t even do.

It was meant to be.

After five years out of the limelight, everyone was curious about the sorrow-filled story of what happened to James Buchanan Barnes, and your light, humor-filled piece was skillfully written and hinted at the deeper story. It was good journalism without being mean spirited and he respected you for your skill. 

He wanted you for your body, and he wanted in your mind and soul. 

Bucky Barnes needed you. Now that he had given you a taste of the physical, he just need to make you fall in love with him.

He wished that you were here beside him where you belonged, but all in due time. His plan was proceeding perfectly. 

Bucky did his breathing exercises and walked into a cool morning shower. After that, Bucky settled into bed with his laptop to make sure that you were okay.

The surveillance team he hired was in place outside your building, and you seemed to be sleeping peacefully from what he could see from the cameras placed inside your apartment.

Bucky sighed and closed his laptop, attempting to turn off his brain so that he could gain a few more moments of sleep as the sun started to rise.

What a day today would be.

Feedback is the essence of life. Reblog and read the next in the series, Bucky Charms.

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