#i wish he was recognized more often

[mysp4c3d0tc0m]

i wish people talked more about him (other than his hideous face)

[goldentigerfestival]

I love the vocal nuance in this exchange, but also posting this for my differences posts because this is one of the changes that infuriates me the most. Yuri didn't threaten Ioder, did not threaten him with a weapon, and just said he'd punch him in a lazy, half joking voice (half joking as in, he really doesn't want to hear that - that's just his way of saying so; but that's not the voice of someone who is super angry and threatening).

My other huge grievance is that this is a recurring issue between them in the dub. Yuri is pretty much always vocally rude to Ioder. Ioder has done nothing to wrong him or anyone and has only ever done good for the people where he's able to.

Yet despite Ioder being nothing but sincere, honest and polite with Yuri, in fact even happy to see him here and there, dub Yuri is outright tonally rude to him leading right up this scene where he threatens Ioder in this dark voice. Meanwhile he's actually just supposed to be… lazily telling Ioder he'll punch him in his Yuri Lowell way of saying "I don't want to hear that".

The dub really just wanted to turn Yuri into this dark edgelord and I hate that for my goofy, silly boy.

[solvicrafts]

I just love Jarlaxle so much.

[guttersniper]

while mutt does sometimes inspire parental feelings, usually in people who already are parents, as far as fond relationships go, he's more likely to give off the energy of a little brother, a cool young cousin, an apprentice/mentee, or simply that kid you have an intergenerational friendship and rapport with. his general attitude/bearing and fierce independence has something to do with it -- he doesn't act in a way that suggests he particularly needs or wants someone to feel that way about him.

[dogscircle]

today was. good. yeah. needed that.

[deadsetobsessions]

Danny Fenton is so damn sick of rich fruit loops. It’s worse now, since he’s one of them.

It’s not Vlad that he’s with, thank the Ancients, but Danny isn’t sure that this is better.

Because he’s Timothy Drake, a baby, and he’s been reincarnated after the Ancient of Reincarnation accidentally drank too much wine.

He’s going to kick their ass so hard when he gets back.

Danny huffs. He rolls over, ignoring the silent manor. Sure, he’s read the comics. Sure, he laughed and imagined being adopted by Batman- come on, Danny had black hair and blue eyes even back then, he was totally adoption bait- when his parents gave him reason to lose trust in their love. But that’s it, that’s all he thought it was. A day dream, a wish for a universe that didn’t exist.

Danny hadn’t understood the reality of the whole Infinite Realms thing, a place he was now the King of. Batman? Real. Danny? Reincarnated. Hotel? Trivago.

Like, this wasn’t what he meant, dammit.

And now he’s stuck as Timothy Drake, and Ancients, he was starting to see parallels.

——

Danny tried photography. He really did. He wanted to at least stick to the source material. But that’s not who he is. Even with the shiny new brain that memorized, catalogued, and put together clues at the snap of his fingers, but Danny’s never been one to take photos. It’s a respectable art, for sure, but Danny preferred to live in the moment instead of capturing it to remember forever. It’s just-

He watched the Graysons fall. He watched Dick Grayson turn into Robin. And Danny can’t and won’t ever betray his Obsession like that, ever again. He can’t let Jason die for his “story” to begin. That’s not how Danny works.

He’s there to protect.

Danny hasn’t ever been just Tim. Danny was also Tim and the Ghost King without a haunt. But now? Gotham is his haunt. He, in lieu of an actual city spirit, is Gotham. He’s also a Drake. And Drakes were meant to hoard.

Batman and Robin? They are his.

He claimed them, as a Drake. But that claim is weak. So he claimed them as their city, and that is a claim that will never be able to be challenged.

Danny’ll be damned before he allows some lanky starved clown beat the life out of one of his Robins. So, for the first time in his nine years on this planet, Tim-Danny goes ghost and flies.

“Who- who. Are you?” Robin slurred from his place in Danny’s hold. He is broken, yes. But not dead. Danny infuses some of his vitality, his ecto, into Jason’s injuries to help them heal.

“Gotham.” Danny replied, layering his ghostly voice with those of the city.

“Goth’m?”

“Gotham. Sleep, little bird. Your city has got you.”

When Robin, Jason, settled with a sense of trust that tugs at Danny’s core, Danny carried him to Batman, whose eyes were wild and manic. He glared menacingly at the green and white ghost in front of him, who was holding his broken and beaten son-

Well, it’d be menacing if Danny hadn’t watched him eat bricks and mortar, crashing into a building while using his grappling gun.

“You-”

“I am Gotham.” Danny cut him off. Despite his wary nature and natural paranoia, Batman settled at his city’s gaze rested on him. Danny knew that Batman recognized his city. Batman’s head bowed, but his eyes stayed on Robin. “You were supposed to take care of Robin.”

“I- I know.” And that voice was all Bruce Wayne the Dad instead of Batman the Vigilante. Danny gently placed Robin in Batman’s arms, taking in the tremors as he held his son close.

“Go back, Bruce. And make sure Jason knows how much you love him.”

He laughed as Bruce whipped his head upwards. “I am your city. You are mine as much as I am yours. I’ve known of you before you were born.”

Technically? Not untrue. But Bruce will chalk it up to weird magic shit. It’s not like it’s a secret that Gotham’s kind of curse. Besides, this way, Danny will be able to help out more often. And Bruce won’t be able to connect Tim Drake to the “Spirit of Gotham.”

“Return, my knight. This is not your city. I can not protect you as well as I can in Gotham.”

“Thank you… Gotham.”

Danny sighed. He wondered when he’ll have to field questions from a John Constantine. He’s pretty sure Bruce will call in magical help, even if it was his own city he was investigating.

Batman’s lucky Danny liked him enough to allow it.

[gladiatorcunt]

- A ROTTEN TREE BEARS ROTTEN FRUIT | I.

god loves you, but not enough to save you

cw: kinktober prompt (whipping/flogging), blasphemy, inaccurate religious practices, lyrical sadomasochism (more so sadism on his part), erotic religious imagery and references, this dynamic is so weird, implied (as in in my mind) bi reader and charlie, plus sized reader, reader’s chest referred to as ‘breasts’ & ‘tits’ and their crotch referred to as a ‘hole’ but they do have a seperate one other than their ass, pregnancy fantasy, vomit mention, don’t know shit about the show fuck you ryan, blood kink, interchangeable ‘charlie’ & ‘mayhew’ based on pov

do not translate, repost, or feed this work to ai |

kinktober 2024

“Shh, let me clean you up, Father.” You smile, so softly, he could snap your neck if he squeezed hard enough.

You run your nails over his back, trimmed to an appropriate length. Father Mayhew sighs the way Adam might’ve when Eve’s walls clenched around him, God never being more important than this bliss. You’re so devoted, so devout in your worship but he’s beginning to think that you cry out to a different God than he does. If you even believe in an invisible one anymore when you have a savior in the flesh.

“Thank you, dear. That’d be great.” The pulls are pulled from his lips like rotund wooden beads, as if he has no choice but to endure the stretch as they exit his body one by one.

You shuffle off the bed and kneel behind him, stroking your fingertips down his back like he’s a marble statue you just can’t help but reach out and touch. The opposite of Delilah cutting Samson’s hair, you only want to imbue him with your pure love from the inside out. Spooning milk and honey over the tender welts.

His eyelids crinkle as you kiss the nape of his neck, blotting your lips with rouge. There is no inch of his back left without, and when you arrive at the bigger gashes you lavish the cut with your tongue. Drinking his life away and cleaning him up like a good little whore, servicing the man becomes the only thing of importance to you. You dip the tip of your tongue in the recess of the deeper wounds, and caress his tensing abs from behind when he grits his teeth and traps a curse behind them. You only kitten lick him, but often he wishes you would get real dirty with it, caressing your tongue over his muscles in broad and messy swipes.

His scars from previous lashings glint in the low light of the candles surrounding you. You give them their just desserts of course, grateful pecks of attention and acknowledgement. Soothing his pain, that is the only excuse you have to encroach on the verge of breaking your vows. Father Mayhew gives you a purpose and stops your bleating with a heavy hand if you forget your place. Stern hand to raw and stinging flesh.

Sometimes there is no pillow when you kneel behind him.

The next step is that you turn around and face the wall after picking up the cattail whip off the bed and returning it to its rightful owner. You’ve already discarded your habit, no tunic, coif, or veil left on your person. They’re folded neatly beside you, only your rosary nestled in the embrace of your heaving breasts. Your peaks harden in the stuffy humid air, all the oxygen in the world confined to this small room.

He saddles up behind you, his sweaty chest so close to the flesh and contours of your back. Father Charlie breathes you in, taking whiffs of your debauched scent in between silent prayers. He never allows himself to be as forward as you are, his thread of control over his desire has not snapped yet. There are boundaries he can push, but lines he can never cross.

“Good lamb, God recognizes your penance and forgives your soul.” He whispers, dragging the strips of leather down your back until goosebumps rise to the surface.

When you least expect it, he strikes. You muffle a shout into the wall and Father Charlie’s cock jumps under his towel. Briefly he imagines slamming into your tempting body dry, with no preparation, making you sure you feel as much pain as possible. The way you’d wince with every step around the church, the begging in your puppy dog eyes when you’d take communion. How he could hold it above your head like a bone in the shape of a fractured cross, dangling just out of reach of your gorgeous mouth.

The devil gives him dreams of fucking your throat until you’re vomiting and hoarse.

Every droplet of bed peeking out from the cracks of your skin to say hello nourishes him. He shushes you when you’re unable to hold back your sounds, cooing when he notices you humping the air after the fifteenth hit. You just can’t help yourself, nerdy by nature and nurture.

You start soaking the pillow beneath you, imagining what he must look like. A man and his broad hulking body curling around you as he hurts you. Your hole suddenly feels so empty, you have a night of riding your pillow ahead of you, you just want to be good for him in all the ways you’re supposed to be.

As you let a demon of sex control your body, he spies a flash of a white lacy thong nestled between your plump ass cheeks. He knows that if you had also worn a towel, he would’ve hooked his fingers under the fabric and pulled it off. You don’t get to hide any part of yourself from your Father. And he knows he will have to give himself another lashing for those thoughts alone. Even the secret wedding he plans as he strokes his angry red cock, always edging himself, he’s afraid of what would happen if he lets go. How loud the iron gates would be when they creak open. Like the way he wants to spread your ass open and toy with the hidden puckered hole.

His words are in his actions, reopening your old wounds and bringing the warm leather across your back one last time, he hopes your blood soaks through the material. Staining it, the way you have already stained his heart. Father Charlie grins despite himself when you slump against the wall, sliding his bible-roughened hands over your love handles and sticks his pecs to your shoulders.

“You did lovely, today. The Lord thanks you, and I’m so proud of you, you know that?” His thick fingers brush along the bottoms of your tits, never going higher.

He wants to slap them, wrap the beads of your rosary around them until the flesh bulges, painting your nipples in a mix of both of your blood. Marking your souls irreversibly. Marriage of the spirit, a ritualistic wedding in the eyes of the beholder. You shiver like a mouse in front of a snake, and beads of precum fall from his cockhead.

Did Saint Teresa have these feelings when she had the vision of an angel piercing her heart with their golden spear? Did Saint Sebastian when he was pierced by those arrows under the order of the Emperor? Did David when he wrenched Goliath’s head back by his hair and bested him into humiliation? Did it compare to the covenant he formed with Jonathan?

He kisses your glittering scars in thanks and washes your blood away with his lips and tongue too. But unlike any other day in which you’ve done this, he stands up with a grunt and pulls you up with him. Father Mayhew falls backwards onto his bed and so you follow dutifully, and because the hold he has on your wrist is strong to the point of bruising. You lay your head over his heart and pant into his skin as he teases your plush thigh, tracing crosses into the chubby expanse of skin.

“No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us.” He cajoles, walking on that burning tightrope with you.

He wonders if your cunt would be just as chubby, if you’ve ever thought about humping the organ bench, riper than the forbidden fruit, and he mentally catalogs an extra long session of repentance. To be fresh and clean again. Father Charlie will go through his sermons with his lighthearted tone and charming personality, desperate to hide that he’s thinking of plunging his tongue in your asshole. Sipping and slurping up your musk like it’s the only holy water he needs to live. Or entice you into eating his ass, you would love being able to serve him properly, no doubt.

To nourish you with his fragments, his vertebrae and viscera. The body and the blood. The teeth and the testicles.

He’ll sit in quiet contemplation in front of the pulpit, pouring wine over your body in his mind. Following the red trail with his tongue as it trickles down the valley of your chest and dips in and out the folds of your belly. He’ll leisurely open his mouth on a silent moan at the top of your mound, the hairs like yellowing blades of glades against his philtrum, in a perfect paradise there’d be blood there too. His own personal, pervertedly literal, red sea.

You’d look so beautiful, swollen and fat with a child growing in your womb. A shame that can never happen, but a blessing that no heretic of a man could snatch you up and take you away from him. Your flock is here, and the heavy crook of his staff is all you need to guide you back home when you go astray. Trapped in his thighs, molded by his hands, punctured into line with his cock.

[entitled-fangirl]

A brilliant melody.

Cregan Stark x quiet!reader

Summary: Cregan marries a woman who never speaks. When she finally does, he feels his heart melt three times over.

Warnings: SMUT (p in v), talk of abuse, tears

A/n: I've been wanting some kind of cool transitions for my writing. Like instead of the "...", some people have really cool art there. Does anyone know how to do that? I hope that makes sense 😬

Masterlist

..................................................

She was quiet. 

Being surrounded by the loud men of the north made her a quiet girl.

Cregan wasn't sure what to do with her. 

…

"You're a meek thing, aren't you?" Cregan asked as the two walked the courtyard of Winterfell.

In one day, they'd be wed. Bonded for life.

She only nodded.

She only ever really nodded or shook her head. 

He hummed as they continued walking. 

Her father had told Cregan of this days before, as if it was a defect that could put a halt to their betrothal plans. Cregan made sure to assure her father that it was not.

After all, she could speak. She just chose not to.

"Winterfell is beautiful in the winter," he began to ramble. "When the snow falls, it covers all of this in its brilliant white. Do you enjoy the snow?"

She considered his question and gave a small nod.

He grinned, "That's my northern girl. Luckily, Winterfell is warm." He noticed the light shiver in her frame. "Perhaps we should go back indoors. Don't want my future bride to freeze before I can place my house cloak upon her shoulders?"

…

True to his word, Cregan managed to place his cloak over her shoulders the very next day. It was a wondrous ceremony filled with many from across the North. 

Everyone gawked at the beauty of the new Lady of Winterfell.

But when one-by-one they moved to speak to her, Cregan was quick to deny them.

The two enjoyed the feast after. Seated at a high table, Cregan often leaned over to whisper things to her.

"You look radiant. Like the sun itself."

"I do believe the other lords may be envious that I have captured the most gorgeous woman of Westeros."

"I do wish you'd eat more. You've hardly touched the plate."

It was a strange sight, seeing such a burly brute of a man whisper sweetly to his wife.

"Is something bothering you?"

She shook her head.

Cregan sighed. "I've only known you for a few days, but I do believe I recognize the shaking of one's hands to associate with nerves."

It was true. Her hands shook violently.

"Is it the bedding ceremony?"

She shrugged.

His brows raised and he leaned closer, "You can be honest with me. I… I want you to be honest with me."

The woman looked down at her hands in thought. Finally, she looked back up at him and nodded.

"Aye. I see." Cregan leaned away and rested his elbows on the table, his head in his hands as he rubbed at his forehead. "Then I'll call it off."

He didn't miss the way her brows pulled together.

"The ceremony, lovely. I'll call it off." 

…

Not long after, Cregan stood and held his hand out to her. "May I dance with you, dear wife?"

She grabbed his hand with enthusiasm. It seemed she didn't need words, for expressions were enough.

He smiled at her as he lead her to the dance floor. 

Cregan was a lousy dancer. Being a northern lord meant there were many more important matters than learning how to properly dance. So, it was put aside. 

He knew the steps in truth, and he could lead just fine, his steps were just too harsh, his movements too calculated. 

It was just not how he expressed himself.

She, though, was marvelous.

It was as if each step was not one of a practiced art. It was as if it was how she naturally moved. 

Cregan was in so much awe that he nearly forgot to continue the lead. 

She didn't need words to express herself. Her movements were enough.

He felt as if he was finally seeing her. 

And she was beautiful.

The song ended, to Cregan's surprise as he snapped from his thoughts, and the guests clapped for their Lord and Lady of Winterfell.

…

Honoring his word, Cregan forbade the ceremony. No other living creature would be a witness to their consummation but the two of them.

After laying her upon the rich furs upon their bed, he was careful to properly prepare her to take him. 

Now, he forced himself to do so slowly, his hips slowly pushed to meet hers as he entered her.

She hissed lightly at the pain, and he swore he heard a small noise come from her throat instinctually.

He began to wonder what her voice sounded like.

Once seated in her fully, he paused to give her a moment to breathe. Her breath was quickened and her hands gripped his biceps as she tried to regain herself.

Cregan placed a light kiss to her lips, basking in the newness of her lips against his, as well as the eagerness she gave back as they did so.

Her hands slid up to cup his cheeks, suddenly gaining confidence.

"Have you adjusted, pretty girl?"

He shifted his hips, not thinking much as he waited for her response.

The sweetest breathy moan left her lips.

Cregan's eyes widened, and he had to stop himself from letting his lust take over then and there.

He tucked his face into her neck, laying heavy kisses along the way. "Easy now. Just tap me to stop."

And with that, he began to move his hips.

Not much came from her lips. She was used to not using her voice, that it almost seemed as if it was more work to use it then stay silent. It was hard for Cregan to tell her feelings, so he often had to tilt his head back up to gauge her reaction by her expressions alone.

He didn't realize how much he spoke in general until he was around her. How someone could happily be so silent, he wasn't sure.

But if the scratching against his back was any measure, he'd say he was pleasing her well.

"You're taking me so pretty."

She practically preened at his praise, her breath catching or escaping each time.

At one point, he pressed his hips firmly to hers, reaching deeper than he had before.

His face found its way to her neck again, her hands pulling at his hair.

But he paused, catching his breath and trying to instill a reaction from her.

Her hands recaptured his hair and pulled again. When he still didn't move, she tried to shift her hips to gain more friction. He was enjoying every second, despite the mere torture it was to not chase his own high.

He pressed a sloppy kiss to her neck, "Patience."

Her motions should have been enough of a reaction for him, but he wanted more. He'd do anything to hear her voice more. 

One of his hands moved down to her clit, pressing his thumb down and circling the bundle of nerves. 

A small whine came from her throat.

He felt warmth spread across his body, "Needy, aren't you?"

Her hand made a last-ditch effort to pull at his hair. He could hear her barely contained breath in his ear and a small voice.

"…Cregan… please…"

Cregan almost finished then.

Her voice was so soft. So sweet. Hoarse from its lack of use and so breathy. 

It was beautiful.

But guilt overshadowed all of that. He shouldn't have pushed her to the point of speaking. 

His hand trailed up her body to the bed, preparing himself again. "I won't deny you any longer. I'll give you what you want, sweet girl."

…

She began to speak to him after that. 

The times were few and far between, but nonetheless, he never took a single word for granted. 

Because she only spoke to him. 

 She never spoke her mind in full, so Cregan took it upon himself to do it for her. 

In meetings, she'd pull at his sleeve, prompting him to instinctually bend his head down towards her to properly hear her soft voice amongst the others. That was how she contributed to meetings: to tell her thoughts to the only one there she trusted. Over time, the men in the meetings caught on, and would pause to hear what the Lady had to say. It was a game of telephone, barely hearing a peep from the woman as she spoke to Cregan, and he voiced it aloud in his own manner. 

When they walked through the busy streets of the city, he kept his hand wrapped around hers, promising to give his attention to her when she squeezed it tightly.

Outside of their chambers, their form of communication was touch, often tapping one another gently. 

Inside, however, soft exchanges were common. She would only speak calculated thoughts, not one to ramble, but she would talk of her day, her newest book, or questions of things she always wondered about the man. 

In turn, he'd respond in the same manner, quieting himself naturally to match her tone as the two gazed into the flames of the fire that warmed the room.

"I wish you'd dance more."

Her head snapped up to him with furrowed brows.

"You're a beautiful dancer. I only wish I could see it more." He leaned against the back of the sofa. "Who taught you?"

"My mother," she spoke softly. "She was wonderful."

He smiled when he noticed the reminiscent look in her eyes at the thought of her mother. He pushed a strand of her hair from her face. "Tell me about her."

She leaned into his touch. "Father mocked me when I wouldn't speak. Said it was shameful. But mother always told me that feelings are expressed by actions rather than words."

"How so?" He absentmindedly asked.

"Men often say that they love their wives, but their actions are rather the opposite."

He hummed as he considered it. "Have I ever made you feel that way?"

"No."

It was the quickest response he'd heard from her. It only fueled his need to know as much as he could. To know her fully.

"Have you always been so quiet?"

As if a switch had been flipped, everything about her quieted.

Her breathing. Her voice. Her expressions. Her thoughts.

Silent. 

Whatever had happened had to have been traumatic to instill such a reaction from her.

"Forgive me. That was too forward, even for me to ask-"

"-I don't wish to talk about it today."

He felt relieved that his question hadn't dissolved her trust in him completely. 

"Well," he pulled her to him. "When you are ready to speak, I shall listen."

…

The next day, Cregan meticulously planned. And his efforts had paid off. 

She walked into the meeting room at the same time she did every week, to see it lacking its usual members. 

The table was pushed off to the side, and Cregan stood in its place as he donned a bright smile at the sight of her. 

Against the back wall, a few musicians stood with their instruments. 

Confusion spread through her and a wave of anxiety as well, prompting her to only stare at him blankly.

He was quick to correct it, stepping forward towards her. "I've excused the council today. I… I wanted to see you dance again."

Once her mind warmed up to the idea, a bright smile came across her face, accepting the hand that he extended to her. 

"I must admit, my love," Cregan said as he stepped in time with the music. "I am not a gentle man. But I am trying. For you."

She nodded, not daring to speak her overwhelming thoughts at the moment. 

…

After, they sat at the large dining table, the emptiness of it mattering not to the two lovers who sat together at one end.

"My uncle," she stated, breaking the silence.

His head tilted up to meet her gaze, "Hmm?"

Her cheeks turned a slight pink, "You asked how I became so quiet." 

Recognition flowed over his face, "Ah. Yes, I did." He sipped his wine and leaned towards her. "Your uncle, then?"

She nodded. 

"He was unkind to you?"

She picked at the skin of her fingers, seemingly reliving the moments in her mind. 

A battle within herself.

He put a hand on her thigh, "I will not force you to tell me things you do not wish to."

"I do," she insisted. "But I know not how to."

"Begin to speak, and I shall piece it all together."

She took a deep breath. "My uncle hit me when I spoke out of turn. At first, at least. Then… it was whenever I spoke at all."

He felt ice go down his veins and a feeling like a rock going down his throat. 

But being such a skittish thing, he knew not to react too harshly.

"When I told my father, he…" her eyes became glassy. "He said he was right for it. That… that a girl was made to only… shut her mouth and open her legs."

He couldn't keep it in anymore. "And you believed them?"

"When I spoke to you for the first time, I feared you'd be the same."

"I bask in the sound of your voice, my girl. I hope that you see that."

A warm tear ran down her cheek as she looked up at him.

"Oh, sweet woman," he cooed as he cupped her cheek. "Do not cry over false words."

When more tears began to fall, he quickly pushed her chair out from the table and pulled her into his lap.

She tucked her face into his neck, melting against him as if she wished to disappear. 

He held her close, not caring when his tunic became damp. When he did speak, it was soft and assuring whispers.

Once she caught her breath, she pulled away from him. "Forgive me."

"I don't believe I will."

Her eyes widened, and he realized his mistake in word choice. 

"Sweet girl, you've nothing to apologize for. That's all I meant."

She relaxed at that. She reached up and wiped her cheeks with a sniffle. "Actions have always spoke more than words."

He reached up and brushed a stray tear from her cheek. "Have they?" He asked softly.

She felt a smile come to her lips at his touch. "You are different. You could speak or act, and still, I'd only hear a brilliant melody to which I can always trust."

He never felt such love radiate as it did then.

.......................................

Taglist: @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia

[miumura]

KISS ME, JUST SAY OH!

types of kisses with enhypen !

pairing bf!enhypen x gn!reader genre fluff, angst (if you squint), comfort, established relationship

warnings reader is crying in heeseungs, reader is sick in jays word count varies 0.3-0.5K+ per member ( 2997 words total )

📩 ‘ NOTE ’ in honor of enhypen’s cb, you know i had to write something related to the title track !! i love xo so this had to be done 😋 anyways, i do hope you enjoy ^^

HEESEUNG — top of the head kisses

top of the head kisses are just so cute i HAD to assign to heeseung because he actually fits it so well??? like he’d think top of the head kisses speak volumes of both love and comfort, which is something he’d often do.

Heeseung didn’t know what to do. He had rarely seen you cry, but there you were in the apartment with red, puffy eyes. As panicked as you were, he was probably even more worried. Seeing you try to quickly wipe your eyes and hide the reason for your tears broke his heart even more. Unsure if he was processing things correctly, he immediately went to wash his hands as he had just come back home, barely drying them as he hurried to have you in his embrace.

“Come here,” he said softly, getting onto the couch and extending his arms to you. You moved into his embrace, and his arms wrapped around you tightly. Heeseung didn’t pressure you to tell him what was wrong, understanding from the start that you didn’t want him to see you cry. He had just happened to come to your place early.

Instead of asking questions, he rubbed your back in soothing circles, offering his silent support as comfort, which you deeply appreciated. Even if he thought his gestures didn’t mean much, they meant the world to you. Being in his presence made you feel comfortable enough to finally let yourself cry while he continued to worry silently. He didn't want to overwhelm you, so he had to calm himself for your sake.

"I'm here for you," Heeseung murmured softly, his voice steady and reassuring. "You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. Just know that I'm here."

It didn’t take long for you to finally spill everything to Heeseung, who listened attentively and offered comforting words and advice. His patience and understanding helped ease the burden you were carrying. After you finished, you thanked him quietly, remaining in his arms, enjoying the soothing silence together. His gentle back rubs relaxed you, and you found yourself slowly drifting into a daze.

Feeling safe and comfortable in his embrace was a comfort you couldn’t take for granted. Heeseung recognized this as a sign of your trust and appreciation, and he smiled softly to himself. He gently caressed your hair, pressing a soft kiss on the top of your head. Eventually, both of you drifted off to sleep together, wrapped in the warmth of each other's presence.

JAY — forehead kisses

ohhh i associate jay with forehead kisses so bad!! they are just so quick but sweet / intimate, so i can just imagine jay often giving forehead kisses. i feel like he would definitely view it as a special thing, so it’s something he just can’t pass on.

“I told you to take care of yourself, didn’t I?” Jay tsked, entering the room with medication and a wet towel. “Look at you now—in bed, sniffling and barely able to sit up properly.”

“Okay…but I don't usually get sick,” you sniffled, your nose running as you looked at Jay, who took a seat by your side.

“That’s still no excuse not to take care of yourself,” Jay sighed, reaching over to feel your forehead, frowning at the heat radiating from it. “Now you’re stuck with a fever.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to trouble you with your work today. I just had to—”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Jay interrupted firmly. “I’m your boyfriend. I’d drop anything and everything to make sure you’re okay. I want to be someone you can reach out to without hesitation, alright?”

You nodded, managing a small smile at his reassurance. “I wish I could kiss you right now.”

“Well, I can’t afford to get sick,” Jay smiled, reaching out for your hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze to make up for the lack of intimacy. “Who will take care of you if I do, hm?”

“You’re right,” you sighed. “I wouldn’t want anyone to have this throbbing headache I have right now.”

Jay leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin as he gently brushed a few strands of hair away from your forehead. He pressed a tender kiss to your feverish skin, lingering for a moment as if willing his strength into you. “You’ll get better soon,” he murmured against your skin. “Just rest and let me take care of you.”

You closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of his kiss and the comfort it brought. “Thank you, Jay,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “That was nice.”

“No need to thank me,” he replied softly, placing his hand back onto your forehead. “I just wanted you to know that I’m always here for you to give what you need. Now, let’s get you some medicine so you can rest and bring that fever down.”

He handed you the medication and helped you take it, his touch gentle and patient. The combination of the medication and your fever was already making you drowsy as Jay pulled the blanket over you.

“Before I sleep,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “Can I get another kiss?”

Jay chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You’re insatiable,” he teased, shaking his head slightly. He put and adjusted the damp towel on your forehead, making sure it was in place. “I’ll give you more kisses later. For now, rest and get better, alright?”

You nodded, feeling a sense of comfort and warmth from his presence. “Okay,” you whispered, your eyes growing heavier by the second. As you slipped into slumber, you felt a soft, lingering kiss on your forehead, Jay’s silent promise that he would always be there for you.

JAKE — lip kisses

this guy is definitely super clingy, so there’s no way he’s going to be missing out on lip kisses!! he’s definitely the type to want several to be content 😭 OOUU i bet he’d even pout his way through to get them BUT honestly, he has super nice lips anyways so it would be hard to refuse in the first place 🙂‍↕️

“Come on, Jake, it was just a prank!” you kept trying to explain to your boyfriend, Jake, who was “angry” about the stunt you pulled on him today. “I didn’t mean to give you that huge of a fright!”

“That huge of a fright? It was bugs—and you know how much I hate bugs,” Jake said in disbelief, recalling the fake bug you had placed on the floor, getting the shivers just thinking about it again. “And you just watched me try to ask you for help to kill it, forcing me to ‘kill it’—only to place another near my foot! I almost passed out.”

“And you screamed so loud, saying there was now a family of bugs living in our house,” you said, now unable to hold back your laughter. “You should’ve seen your face!”

“You wouldn’t have said that if you didn’t know they were fake!” Jake protested, trying to sound stern but unable to hide the amusement creeping into his voice.

“Oh, come on, you have to admit it was a little funny,” you teased, still giggling at the memory.

Jake crossed his arms, trying to maintain a stern expression but failing to hide the slight twitch of a smile at the corner of his lips. “You nearly gave me a heart attack,” he said, feigning seriousness. “I seriously cannot forgive you.”

You tried pleading over and over again, trying to get Jake’s attention, but he remained unmoved, intentionally facing away every time you tried to get into his view. He was determined not to let you off easily.

“Jake, come on,” you begged, attempting to step into his line of sight once more. “I’ve said I’m sorry a million times!”

“That’s clearly not enough,” he pouted, crossing his arms once more. “I’m going to need more convincing.”

“Convincing? Like what? I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, the hint of a mischievous grin on his face.

“Anything within reason,” you replied, eyeing him warily. “What do you have in mind? I don’t like that grin on your face…”

Jake pretended to think it over, tapping his chin theatrically. Then, in a swift move, he wrapped his arms around your waist, eliciting a surprised yelp from you. Before you could process what was happening, he began smothering you with kisses, making sure you couldn’t escape.

You tried to put up a “fight,” but Jake was persistent in getting what he believed was his revenge, or rather, his favor. He finally stopped by giving you one last kiss on the lips, pulling back with one of his dorky smiles, his arms still wrapped around you.

“Seriously—this is what you wanted?” you asked, breathless from the playful struggle.

Jake nodded, still grinning. “Yup, it was all part of my master plan,” he said, tightening his hold on you affectionately. “The only way to forgive you for that prank of yours.”

“Whatever,” you said with a roll of your eyes, but you couldn't help smiling. Your response elicited another giggle from him, and he leaned in to give you another kiss.

“I mean it,” Jake said softly, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. “I’ll forgive you for anything if it means I get to do this.”

SUNGHOON — hand kisses

i don’t think sunghoon would HATE showing intimacy, but i feel like he could be more awkward with it. he would still want to show some form of intimacy, so hand kisses would be the way to go! because, one, it’s pretty cute and, two, it’s easier for him to hide his face after doing something more romantic.

“Seriously, Sunghoon, that guy was just an old classmate of mine,” you reassured Sunghoon, who kept insisting that he didn't mind, but his slight pout proved otherwise. “I didn’t want to ruin the mood of our date—he just suddenly came over and wanted to chat.”

Sunghoon shrugged, trying to appear indifferent, but you could see the hint of jealousy in his eyes. “It’s fine, really,” he said, though his tone betrayed him.

You gently nudged him, smiling softly. “Come on, I could tell you weren’t thrilled about it. But I promise, it was nothing.”

He sighed, finally meeting your gaze. “Okay, maybe I was a little annoyed,” he admitted. “I just didn’t like how he was taking up your attention.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I think he didn’t know we were on a date, or even that we were dating.”

Sunghoon wasn’t too expressive with his intimacy, as it was something he was still trying to get used to. But the thought of you with that old classmate of yours only seemed to upset him more, and he wanted to do something about it. He really wanted to show that he loves you, even if he couldn’t always put it into words.

“I’ll work on it,” he said, grabbing your hand and placing a soft kiss on it. “So that people like him don’t interrupt our dates again.”

You smiled at his gesture, getting ready to tease him. “So you were jealous after all?”

“I was not,” he insisted.

“Hm, sure,” you said with a grin, watching as his face turned a shade of pink. “What can I do to get an actual kiss?”

“Don’t push it,” he said, trying to maintain his composure but unable to hide a small smile. He felt more relieved than he was earlier and was determined to work on giving you all the kisses you deserved.

Sunghoon glanced at you, a newfound confidence in his eyes. “I’ll get better at this, you know. At showing you how much you mean to me.”

“I know you will,” you said, returning back the same hand kiss that soon caught Sunghoon in another pink mess.

SUNOO — cheek kisses

CMONNN sunoo and cheek kisses have to be literal perfection. like they go hand to hand and they definitely suit sunoo very well. i could see him doing it quite often and wearing a big smile on his face while doing so. it’s pretty self explanatory as sunoo’s image & personality speaks for themselves ^^ i love him

“Can you even believe he would say something like that?” Sunoo exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air and showing you a dramatically exaggerated facial expression. You nodded, trying to keep a straight face but soon smiling at him despite yourself—his “upset” expressions were just too cute.

“I know, right?” you replied, trying to match his enthusiasm. “The nerve of some people!”

Sunoo sighed, flopping down onto the couch beside you. “It’s just so frustrating sometimes,” he said, pouting a little. “I mean, who does he think he is?”

You chuckled, bringing him closer to you. “I’m sure he didn’t mean it in a bad way. But honestly, I love how expressive you get about these things.”

“What?” Sunoo asked, a little incredulous.

“I mean, you’re so cute,” you said with a smile, planting a couple of kisses on his cheek. “It’s hard to listen when you’re this adorable.”

“Were you even listening to me complain about him?!” Sunoo protested, trying to sound offended but failing to hide his amusement.

“Of course I was,” you assured him, grinning. “I just got a little distracted by how cute you are.”

He sighed dramatically, though his eyes were sparkling with laughter. “I don’t know whether to be flattered or annoyed.”

“Let’s go with flattered,” you teased, giving him one more kiss on the cheek. “Besides, you know I love listening to you.”

“Fine,” Sunoo conceded, finally breaking into a smile. “But, you know I can’t be the only one on the receiving end, right?”

You gave him a questioning look while his smile continued to grow wider. He soon cupped your face, planting a series of kisses on your cheek. Any memory of what he was complaining about was quickly forgotten as he focused entirely on showering you with attention instead.

Sunoo pulled back slightly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I think you also need to be reminded of how adorable you can be, too.”

JUNGWON — neck kisses

i believe in clingy jwon 🙏 i feel like since he’s always around you, he’d probably do it subconsciously, oblivious to your reddened face until you say something about it. and if you didn’t say anything, i fully believe this man would continue to latch onto you and could stay that way forever … no complaints!

"It's been so long since I've seen you," Jungwon said, walking out of the bedroom and taking a seat at the counter. You hummed, chuckling as you continued cooking one of his favorite meals.

"It's only been a week," you replied, glancing over your shoulder with a smile.

Jungwon sighed dramatically, resting his chin in his hand. “A week without our cuddle time—something you still haven’t given me.”

“Come on, you’re hungry. I have to cook you something, don’t I?” you laughed, shaking your head. “Let me finish, then we can eat and cuddle all you want.”

Jungwon pouted slightly, watching you with a mix of impatience and admiration. “You’re going to take a while…”

You glanced at him with a playful smile. “Patience, my love. You’ll get what you want very soon.”

You heard him hum in response as you continued focusing on the food you were preparing. But you should have known not to take his silence for granted. Before long, Jungwon came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist.

You felt his warmth against your back, and a smile spread across your face. “I told you, just a bit longer,” you said, still stirring the pot.

Jungwon rested his chin on your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin. “I know, but I couldn’t resist. Your cooking isn’t the only thing I missed.”

You laughed softly, turning your head slightly to look at him. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love me for it,” he murmured, tightening his embrace. He soon kissed your neck a couple of times, which made you giggle slightly as it was quite ticklish.

“Okay, stop,” you said, trying to suppress your laughter. “You’re going to make me mess up.”

Jungwon pulled back just enough to see your face, a playful smile on his lips. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”

You shook your head, smiling despite the slight disruption. “Just wait a little longer. The sooner I finish, the sooner we can cuddle.”

“Alright, I can wait,” Jungwon said, giving you one last gentle kiss near your collarbone. “I’m still going to hug you though.”

“Then what’s the point of waiting,” you chuckled. “Aren’t we practically cuddling right now?”

Jungwon grinned, resting his chin on your shoulder. “True, but it’s not quite the same as when we’re both settled on the couch together.”

You decided not to question him anymore, letting him hug you as you finished cooking. After all, you missed him a lot too and appreciated the closeness.

“Okay then, but no more neck kisses—that’s only going to distract me,” you said with a playful grin.

He tightened his embrace slightly, his breath warm against your neck. “I’ll take it,” he murmured. “I’m just happy to be close to you.”

NIKI — butterfly kisses

i feel like he would have to get used to showing intimacy so he would probably be a little awkward at first. i feel like butterfly kisses are something that suits his teasing tendencies so he does it to get your attention. sooner or later, butterfly kisses have just became something he does often, as he enjoys it and you find it cute as well.

“Ever heard of personal space, Niki?” you said angrily to the guy who had randomly plopped onto you on the couch. Niki just giggled, ignoring your protest, and you sighed, trying to continue watching your show on TV. You knew from experience that scolding him would only encourage him to push your buttons further, so you decided to let him do his thing. After all, he usually got bored and left you alone eventually.

But today, your lack of response seemed to annoy him, and he clearly wasn’t satisfied yet. As you kept your eyes glued to the TV screen, he secretly shifted his position, moving closer until his face was right in front of your neck. He planted his face in the crook of your neck and started fluttering his eyelashes against your skin, giving you butterfly kisses.

You squirmed, trying not to react but finding it increasingly difficult as the tickling sensation spread. “Niki, stop!” you laughed, unable to hold back any longer. “That tickles!”

He pulled back slightly, a mischievous grin on his face. “Finally, a reaction!” he declared triumphantly.

“I was trying to ignore you,” you said, swatting at him playfully. “But you’re way too persistent.”

“Of course I am,” Niki replied, sitting up with a satisfied smile. “I know how to get your attention.”

“Well, now that you have it, what do you want?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Niki leaned back against the couch, pretending to ponder the question. “Hmm, good question. I didn’t really think that far ahead.”

You shook your head, amused. “Typical Niki. You just wanted to annoy me, didn’t you?”

“Maybe a little,” he admitted, laughing. “But also, I was thinking we could do something more fun than just sitting here watching TV.”

“Like what?” you asked, curious despite yourself.

Niki’s eyes lit up with excitement. “How about we go out for ice cream? My treat!”

You considered it for a moment, then nodded. “I thought you wanted a kiss or something,” you teased. “Alright, ice cream sounds good. But only if you promise not to bug me for the rest of the day.”

Niki chuckled, standing up from the couch. “A kiss would be nice too, but I guess I can settle for ice cream,” he said, giving you a playful wink. “And I promise I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“Good,” you said, getting up to join him. “Because I need at least a few hours of peace.”

“Don’t worry,” Niki assured you, holding the door open. “I’ll keep my promise—as long as you don’t change your mind about that kiss.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you followed him out. “You never give up, do you?”

“Not when it comes to you.”

💬 — royalty is my song ☝️

ENHA PERM TAGLIST (1) — @flwoie @ixomiyu @haruavrse @shinsou-rii @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @ml8dy @starikizs @wonioml @chirokookie @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @en-chantedtomeetyou @millksea @enhaz1 @eundiarys @hyeosi @ja4hyvn @judeduartewannabe @j-wyoung @thia-aep @vampcharxter @softpia @officiallyjaehyuns @itsactuallylina @hsheart @sweetjaemss @ahnneyong @hanienie @jwnghyuns @kpoplover718 @jiawji @rikizm @haknom @yeokii @wvnkoi @whoschr @teddywonss @shinunoga-iie-wa @isoobie @skzenhalove @misokei @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @miercerise @litttlestars @enhapocketz

[a-s-ter]

"𝑫𝒊𝒔𝒄𝒊𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆"

— 𝐒𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬: If you don't want your butler to reach a breaking point and take matters into his own hands by 'disciplining' you, perhaps refrain from behaving like a spoiled brat next time.

— 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: rough sex , unprotected sex , brat!reader , overstimulation , bttm male reader , blowjob , smacking , swearing , dirtytalk , praise , manhandling , dirty talk , age gap , virgin!reader , making out , degradation , petnames , non con , public sex.

PART 1 , PART 2

You were furious. Shattering objects around your room, you turned your once pristine chamber into a chaotic mess. Your anger overflowed onto everyone around you, shouting and unleashing abuse.

After that, you broke down. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you gripped the bed sheets, sprawled on your royal bed still clad in your sleepwear.

You were M/n, the prince! How could you have stooped so low as to beg someone, especially a butler? It was utterly humiliating! What would your father and mother say if they discovered your shameful behavior?

Your father had placed a heavy burden upon your shoulders, entrusting you with the future of the empire. He had envisioned you as a paragon of strength, resilience, and dominance. However, you found yourself succumbing to the influence of a mere butler. His admonitions reverberated in your mind like a relentless echo.

"Do not disappoint me. Be strong and wield the sword with skill, just as your brother does. My time wanes, and the throne shall be yours upon my passing. Fail me not, M/n, lest I consider another heir."

These words were etched into your very being, a constant weight upon your conscience. You vowed not to falter. You would rise above this moment of weakness and prove yourself worthy of the crown he had bestowed upon you.

Your cries were silent, hidden from the world. You couldn't bear the thought of anyone discovering your weakness, fearing it would tarnish your reputation and redefine how others perceived you. You couldn't afford to be seen as anything less than the strong and dominant M/n they expected.

You couldn't let your mother and father see this side of you. No one could know your vulnerability. But that butler had already glimpsed your submissive nature, a betrayal you couldn't forgive.

Clutching the bedsheets tighter, you vowed to exact punishment upon him. But how? The question gnawed at you as you plotted your next move.

"Your Highness?"

Your eyes widened as you recognized that voice. It was that damned butler! Quickly, you got up from your bed and hurried to the door without thinking. With a rush of irritation, you swung it open and came face-to-face with that annoying face you despised.

"You asshole! How dare you show your face in front of me!? Get out of my sight, I never wish to see you here ever again!" you yelled, your voice trembling with anger.

He stared down at you, his yellow eyes cold and calculating as they scanned your face. "That's such a shame, Your Highness," he replied, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "You'll be seeing me more often."

"W—what the heck do you mean by that!?" you demanded, your bewilderment evident in your tone.

"Your mother," he began, his tone dripping with smug satisfaction, "heard about your recent behavior and was quite shocked. When she saw that I possess the proper manners and decorum you seem to lack, she decided I would be the perfect candidate to be your new etiquette teacher." His words hung in the air, leaving you stunned and speechless.

You chuckled nervously, hoping it was some twisted joke. "H-hey... Tell me you're joking. Y-you're joking, right!?" Desperation seeped into your voice as you grabbed his collar harshly, trying to shake the truth out of him.

"I'm afraid not," he replied calmly, his smirk unwavering. "She found out about your behavior towards the maids and your lack of manners, Your Highness."

Anger flared within you at his words, and you tightened your grip on his collar. "So what if I have no manners!? I couldn't care less about those worthless maids! Those 'foods' are nothing but garbage. We don't eat slop like that; it's disgusting! They should've been kicked out of this castle ages ago! Just like you! Just a lowly butler who's probably good at nothing, maybe just some trash my father picked up!" you spat.

"Your words only confirm why I'm here. Perhaps it's time you learned the value of respect and humility your highness."

"No! Fuck off asshole!" you exclaimed, but he paid no heed to your protests. With a swift motion, he forcefully removed your grip on his collar and seized your wrist in a tight grip, his hold unyielding.

You struggled against his grasp, but it was futile. With a determined stride, he barged into your room, his grip still firm as he flung you to the unforgiving floor. A sharp hiss escaped your lips as pain shot through your body upon impact.

As you lay there, vulnerable and in pain, you watched helplessly as he closed the door behind him and locked it, sealing you both in.

He glared down at you, his eyes a piercing yellow that sent shivers down your spine.

"Shall we begin the lesson with your mouth, Your Highness?" His words were laced with a commanding tone as he strode towards you.

"My mouth!? What do you mean by my mouth? Stay away, you filthy vermin!" You attempted to rise, but your legs failed you, leaving you vulnerable on the floor.

With a smirk that sent a chill down your spine, he loomed over you, seizing your chin to meet his gaze forcibly.

"You have such beautiful eyes your highness. Staring at me like that turns me on." he declared, as your gaze involuntarily dropped to his pants, where a noticeable bulge had formed.

"Do you want to see it? See how I'm going to lecture that mouth of yours?" His tone was both mocking and tantalizing as he began to undo his belt, the metallic clink resonating in the tense silence of the room.

"N-no, no! I don't want to see your icky meat!" you protested, but your words fell on deaf ears as he proceeded to remove his belt and push down his underwear.

Your eyes widened in shock as his erect member was revealed before you, Tall and pale white with a crimson hue at the tip, it stood proudly before you, veins pulsing along its length as it throbbed with anticipation.

"It's yours," he declared, his voice thick with desire, "all yours for you to see anytime and anywhere, Your Highness."

"W-wha—?" Your attempt at a coherent response was abruptly stifled as he seized your head, thrusting his cock into your mouth with an aggressive force that left you gasping for air. The sudden intrusion hit the back of your throat, eliciting a choked gurgle of surprise as your eyes widened in shock.

Instinctively, you reached out, grasping onto his thighs for support as you struggled to accommodate his size. Sweat beaded on his brow as he grunted in satisfaction, relishing the sight of you adjusting to his relentless penetration. His grip tightened on your hair, adding to the sensation of his control over you.

"Mhmm, that's a good boy... Taking me all in," he murmured, his voice thick with lust as he watched you with a predatory gaze.

"Ngh... Let's begin the lesson, Your Highness." With a deliberate motion, he began to withdraw his cock from your mouth, only to slam it back in with a force that stole your breath away. Your grip on his thighs tightened as tears welled in your eyes, a mixture of pain and submission washing over you as you surrendered to his will.

He moaned in ecstasy, throwing his head back as the overwhelming sensations consumed him. The warmth of your mouth enveloped him, the slickness of your saliva adding to the intensity of his pleasure. With each thrust, he felt himself sinking deeper into bliss, utterly lost in the euphoria of the moment.

As he gazed down at you, he couldn't help but marvel at the sight before him. Your furrowed brows, the blush that painted your cheeks, the subtle bulge he noticed in your pants – it was all too much, too perfect. In this moment, you belonged to him and him alone.

"Kick and claw all you like. Scream. Hit me. Curse the fuck out of me. Only you can do that to me and not to anyone else, i don't want your attention to go to anyone but me. You don't belong to anyone but me, M/n. Only me." he declared, his words laced with a possessive fervor as he continued to thrust into your mouth, each motion driving him closer to the edge.

As you gasped for breath, he withdrew his cock from your mouth allowing you a moment to recover. Relief flooded through you as you gulped in air, your chest heaving with the effort while a smirk was playing on his lips as he observed your struggle.

With a cruel chuckle, he grasped his cock firmly in his hand and lightly slapped your flushed cheeks with it, Your glare met his amused gaze. Chuckling softly as he seemed to revel in your reaction.

"Day to dusk, I'm going to fuck that bratty attitude out of you, so you better be ready, your Highness."

[thecoochiefairy]

𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖔𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖊𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖞

━━ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑛 .ᐟ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚

warnings 𑄽𑄺 18K word count. toji zenin, biker!toji plug!toji, kinda/sorta! third person omniscient pov, black woman, vaginal penetration, a lil bit of angry/rough sex, lil bit of sweet talkin’, hair pulling, squirting, creaming, oral [f] [m], choking, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, condomless sex, overstimulation, edging maybe? kissing, spanking, aggressive toji, lil bit of sweet toji, megumi as a baby, toji as a daddy hehe, minors aren’t welcome!

song to play while listening; 𝑒𝑥𝑐𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡 ; 𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑝𝑖𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑑 & 𝑃𝐴𝑅𝑇𝑌𝑁𝐸𝑋𝑇𝐷𝑂𝑂𝑅

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ now look, i already said this was finna be a long ride, okay. so just enjoy. visuals for fem-character in this fic—✰ ✰ ✰ she listens to brent faiyaz ✰ ✰ ✰ —visuals for toji/vibes for this fic will be @ the bottom, so scroll down before you start! no words, just cuteness, hotness, + my man my man my man! flying away! 🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧

SPIDER-MAN DOODLED WITHIN THE CORNER OF THE PAPER IS WHAT DRAWS HER ATTENTION, immediately recognizing what student it belongs to. She can’t help the small smile that comes along her face as she brings her eyes up to search for him, seeing as his nose is shoved closer to his journal than the actual coloring pencil.

She adored being a Pre-K teacher. Being able to influence the mind of children growing into their own people made her feel like a superhero—It was their giggles, their constant questions, their curiosity. A happiness that no one could replace. But her favorite student in particular was Megumi.

His dark hair that sprawled all around his head, doe-like gray eyes that beamed when something took his interest. He’d always been more quiet, not as interactive with other students, barely joining in during activities or even recess.

He stuck to her like glue, even when he didn’t have anything to say. His nose was within his Spider-Man booklet, drawing pictures with his left hand—she’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy the child’s company.

She stood from her desk, passing by her other students that were in different stations within the classroom, coming to the ‘art station,’ as she kneeled down to the table next to Megumi who continued to draw.

“Hey, sweetheart,” she calls softly, “You okay?” Her eyes drift between him and one of her other students within this station, a little girl with pigtails, toffee skin shining under the classroom lights.

“Did you see what Anabel drew?” She asks.

Megumi looked up at her with a small nod, his dark bangs sticking out a little. He glanced at the girl and gave her a kind smile before looking back down to the table. He looked a little tired, but his large eyes were as observant as ever.

"It is very pretty," he mumbled in his timid voice. His small hands still continued to shade in the page he had started, filling in his favorite hero’s color scheme.

She blows out a breath, wishing he had a little more to say as she prods, “It is,” she agrees, looking at Anabel who was extremely talkative, “Hey, Bel’s, did you see Megumi’s picture? He’s really good at drawing.”

Anabel nodded excitedly, her pigtails bouncing. She was a bundle of energy compared to the quiet Megumi, her bubbly personality on full display.

“Mhmm!” she chimed with a giggle, her eyes landing on Megumi’s page as she leaned over, her small hands gripping the side of the table as she gasps, “That’s a pretty picture! Did you draw it all by yourself?”

Megumi’s gaze slowly turned from his page to the girl. Despite his shy nature, she hadn’t seemed pushy like most children often were. He slowly nodded, his eyes meeting hers as she leaned closer to look.

“Yes.. I did it all by myself…” his soft voice mumbled quietly. He was often proud of his drawings, it was his favorite thing to do.

His teacher’s eyes almost brightened. She then tries a different tactic, “How about you show Anabel the drawing of Spider-girl you made? Or maybe, you can make her one?”

The boy’s attention moved back to his picture with a thoughtful expression. He seemed to ponder over the teacher's words, debating on the idea. After a moment of hesitation, he looked up to Anabel, who seemed excited.

“…I can show her my other picture…” he nods his head, going into his desk as he says, “I can make you another Spider-girl one, okay? This one is for my dad,” he tells Anabel, pressing the paper to his chest with his small fingers.

Speaking of the bastard, this was the one person that she didn’t have the opportunity to tell about how amazing Megumi was—his father.

She had been trying to contact Megumi’s father since he’d begun school, his nanny being the person that dropped him off on the first day. When she asked the nanny if there was any particular reason why he never showed up, she shrugged, as if she didn’t have an answer either.

‘He’s a busy man,’ she’d tell her. She didn’t think it was her business to pry, but when she concluded that the reason why Megumi clung to her—even if she didn’t want to admit it to herself— that this need for attention was lacking at home. She proclaimed that whenever his father decided to make his grand entrance by meeting the person Megumi was around more than his nanny, she’d give him a piece of her mind. She just didn’t know that day would be today.

“Thank you, you’re sweet,” she compliments, ruffling his hair. She sees as that makes his cheeks go russet, sliding his picture over to his classmate. As she stands, she looks up to see her co worker coming in to do her usual act of bothering her—which she didn’t mind, she was her friend— a smile upon her face as she sung playfully, “Heyyy Ms. Honey.”

She sighs, giving a soft laugh with a roll to her eyes at the playful call of her last name. She knew there would always be a never-ending joke anytime someone greeted her, always giving a rendition of, ‘Because she’s so sweet,’ waving as she replied, “Hey, Ms. Em.”

“I love your classroom, your kids are like the ultimate palate cleanser,” Ms. Em sighs, “Ready to get out of here?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Ms. Honey exhales, “Did you ever find out what time your class was going to that anti-bullying program?”

“Of course I did, who you’ think I am? Someone who doesn’t do their job?” She chuckled a little before letting out a slightly exaggerated sigh, “Although, I must say, that event is gonna be such a bore…”

“Extremely,” Ms. Honey mutters, looking over her desk for her pen, never noticing as Ms. Em is grinning at the scene behind her.

Ms. Em turns towards her co-worker as she asks, “Is that Megumi…making friends?” She whispers.

She sighs in return, “Trying to. I asked him to show Anabel his drawing, I thought he was gonna faint.”

Ms. Em chuckled at her words, her hands landing on her hips with a slight laugh, “He’s so shy, what a cutie.”

“I just wish he wouldn’t be so afraid to make friends. Everyone in class always wants to talk to him, he’s sweet irregardless. And his drawings, it’s nothing I’ve seen come from a four year old. They’re amazing,” she crosses her arms, “You’d think he’d want the entertainment, he’s an only child. I’m sure that becomes lonely.”

“Speaking of home, any updates on daddy-day -care?” she grins, seeing as Ms. Honey immediately became irritated.

“Girl, don’t make me laugh. I have to go through an interview just to have the nanny tell me he can’t talk. I’ve never spoken to the man directly. And she acts like she’s terrified of him, so I don’t know what to do.”

“Damn, this guy is so busy that he can’t even give you a call or email himself?”

“Not even a letter from a bird,” Ms. Honey retorts, “I asked if he was some CEO with this unattainable free time, the nanny said she only sees him when it’s close to Megumi’s bed time. She doesn’t know what he does for work, she just knows it’s something…illegal,” she whispered the last part.

“Mafia-daddy or assassin, hot,” Ms. Em playfully whispers in return.

The more she explained the situation, the more irritated she felt herself becoming as she thought about it. She truly didn’t feel like it was her place to have anything to say about his fathers job or even the slight abandonment to his child, but as it affected him on a daily basis—and the bastard seemed like a bastard— she cared about Megumi more than a way that a teacher cared about her student, it was a motherly nature that she had for him.

“But seriously, you’re kidding me, right?” Ms. Em raises her eyebrows, “He has to be a business tycoon or something, there’s no way that the time he does have for his kid is almost charitable.”

Ms. Honey shrugs, “Let’s hope for my sake I’ll eventually run into him. Or over him, whichever one I’m successful at first.”

“I’d like to be a fly stuck to the front of that car.”

Ms. Honey laughs, “I’d like to be the one driving the car.”

“That too.”

She feels her stress lightly release from her shoulders as her co-worker makes her feel better. As they both laugh amongst each other, their attention is suddenly taken away to the front of the class, a masculine cologne hitting their nose before the figure meets their eyes. Ms. Honey could’ve choked on her spit.

The silhouette within the doorframe nearly reaches the ceiling. He was… terrifying. It was in all the ways that sent shivers down her spine, also sending throbs in between her thighs. The scar jagged across his lips told her everything she needed to know. Onyx hair, steel gray eyes that had a familiarity she couldn’t pinpoint. Olive toned skin and baby pink lips, her eyes falling to a dark inked skull along the side of his neck, making her nearly want to faint at the sight. His broad shoulders were camouflaged by a sable shirt, tight along his hard torso that almost pulled inwards—that’s just how sculpted he was. More ink scattered along his large arms, dark jeans and hefty boots along his feet. He dropped the motorbike helmet he had within his veined covered palm along the desk by the door, stoic face searching for something, or someone within the room.

She takes a moment to breathe as she hears Ms. Em whisper, “Who in the hell is that?”

“I…don’t know,” Ms. Honey mutters back, still stunned.

He was a sight for sore eyes. As she looked at him, she immediately thought to herself, ’goddamn.’ Jawline as sharp as a knife, body nearly straining against his shirt—just an overall ominous aura, this man was a demon in the flesh. She knew she was staring.

“Uh—I’ll be right back,” Ms. Honey mutters, beginning to make her way over to him.

She didn’t recognize this to be one of her students' parents. As she goes to introduce herself, this time, his eyes are the ones studying her. Her strawberry red hair is pulled into a ponytail that swishes along her mid back, edges perfectly sculpted along her forehead, the rich red contrasting her caramel skin, freckles spruced along her face, nose and lips. Similar to him, she has a large rose blooming within the side of her neck, something he wouldn’t expect for a teacher to have. Her double golden nose rings shine within the light, baby pink long sleeve clinging to her body in a way that should’ve been inappropriate but was only at fault for her genetics—large hips and ass that she could only thank her mother for— blood red skirt flowing down to the floor with white sandals along her feet, orchids clipped to the top of them.

She comes up to him, nervously pulling at her ponytail as she greets, “Good afternoon,” giving a polite smile, straight teeth shining under her brown-lined lips, “I don’t think you have the right classroom, what teacher are you looking for?”

The man’s eyes never wavered from her form as she approached. He was taking in every little detail. How her red hair framed her face, the gold on her nose, how her shirt and skirt clung to her body, her scent, he felt like a dog in heat, wanting to howl as her aroma of cinnamon and vanilla choked up his windpipe. His gaze slowly went down to look at her hips and ass, his expression unreadable, before going back up to her face. He noticed her nervous habit of pulling on her ponytail, as well as the nervous tug on her skirt. She was sexy.

“Nah,” his voice had a rasp, deep baritone crawling to her spine as he replied, “I’m in the right place. You’re Ms. Honey, aren’t you?”

Her eyebrows raise up, “Me? I am. I just— I’m sorry, I don’t recognize you to be one of my students' parents,” she places her hands behind her back, his eyes dropping down to her physique, eyebrow twitching. This definitely wasn’t the time to think about how erotically attractive this man was.

“I’m Megumi’s father, Toji Zenin.”

As it hit her, she muttered, “Oh shit,” fixing her posture as she turned towards her co-worker, “Ms. Em, do you mind getting some of the kids started with dismissal?”

Ms. Em was caught off guard, not expecting to be roped into this situation. She looked between Ms. Honey and the mysterious man with a slightly surprised expression, nodding to her before turning to the children and saying in a convincing tone, “Okay cuties, let’s put away your supplies and go get ready for dismissal, okay?”

She turned back towards the man, “You’re…Megumi’s father…” to which he drops his eyes along her face and replies, “That’s what I just said.”

“Uh—it’s nice to finally meet you!” she takes a deep breath as she gives him another kind smile, placing her hand out.

It feels like an eternity as a hand never comes out to shake hers, her eye almost wants to twitch. Toji looked at her outstretched hand, an unamused expression on his face.

“Yeah,” he grunted.

He stayed leaning against the wall, broad frame nearly bending the doors hinges, his arms still crossed, looking down at her as he stated, “You’re the one with the ‘concerns’ about how I’m raising my fuckin’ kid.”

Okay, so he wasn’t the type to be passive aggressive. Just aggressive-aggresive. She places her tongue on her cheek, raising an eyebrow as she laughs awkwardly in response, “That I am. I’ve been wanting to speak to you for a while, you’re very good at ignoring someone. Now that you’re here, I’d like a sliver of your precious time?”

His jaw clenched as she spoke sarcastically, his eyes narrowing at her tone, “Speak then.”

She wanted to smack him upside the head right then and there. But she kept her composure, looking back to Megumi who giggled absentmindedly with Anabel, wishing she’d been anywhere else but this conversation.

She turned back towards him as she spoke, “Well, Megumi is a really good kid. He’s sweet, polite, and respectful—not sure who I have to thank for that—“ she throws shade, “But the only minor problem I do have out of him is his participation and social skills with other students. He has an issue making friends, and the only thing that keeps his interest is his school work and drawing.”

“You’re upset because the kid isn’t some damn social butterfly like the rest of your class?”

Her eyes squint at him as she pensively disagrees, “No. If you’d let me finish, he draws a lot. It’s essentially his passion. When I ask him what he’s drawing about, or who he’s drawing for, he says it’s for his father. He seems to be seeking your approval, Mr. Zenin. Not that it’s my place to tell you how to be a better father, but I’d give notion that if you were more of a participant in your child’s life, his social skills would bloom just like a social butterfly,” she tilts her head, gritting her teeth to keep from cussing him out.

His large arms go over his chest, a humorless laugh coming from his full lips as he asks, “You got’ kids?”

“No sir, I don’t,” she replied, a shift in her face at the question, yet she remains stoic.

“Then who in the fuck are you to tell me about how to raise mine?”

As she goes to reply, he cuts her off, “ You must be some dumbass, naive idealist who thinks everyone can be a perfect parent with enough love.”

“What I am is somebody telling you to watch your mouth around my students. Quickly,” she raises an eyebrow, voice going lower, “But I absolutely think with enough love and attention to your son, we wouldn’t be having this conversation in the first place, Mr. Zenin.”

He grits his teeth for a moment to hold back a nasty reply, “I don’t need some gentle parenting bullshit spout about how to raise my own son,” he then remembers her threat, “Shut me the fuck up if you’re gonna threaten me. Know I’m not one of those other parents you’re used to—I’m your worst damn nightmare.”

She pulled her face back, raising an eyebrow. Was this motherfucker trying to scare her? Who in the goddamn hell was he talking to?

All of her professionalism went out the window as she sneered, “Come find me in my sleep, then. Nobody’s telling you to do anything. But I’d appreciate the effort of at least faking as if you’re committed to having a goddamn child, rather than clocking out when you don’t feel like being a father.”

“Maybe I ain’t one of those fathers that bakes sugar cookies with my kid and reads him a bedtime story, Ms. Honey, but I’m present. I don’t need your fuckin’ advice.”

“Then double it and pass it to the next person, Mr. Zenin. I literally don’t give a fuck—“

“Ms. Honey, can I take this book home with me?” A sweet voice calls from below, her attention being pulled away by one of her other students. It hits reality that she’s still at work, still standing within her classroom.

She was thankful that her students hadn’t heard this back and forth, but she could see Ms. Em felt the fire coming off of both of them.

She pressed her hand along the child’s cheek, “Yeah, of course, baby boy,” she replied to her student, Oliver, tan skin and bright green eyes giggling excitedly at her, “ Go ‘head.”

When she faces the man again, she realizes that she’d made a damn fool of herself, allowing this man to rile her up in a way that she never was with a student's parent.

She takes a deep breath as she leaves him with, “I’ll go get Megumi.”

Toji’s anger had simmered at the interruption. Even he wasn’t heartless enough to continue the argument with a child present. He watched as she went and spoke to her other students in her softest voice, almost admiring the way her face changed as she interacted gently. It nearly made him forget how fucking irritating her adamance was.

As she comes over to Megumi, she squats back down as she sighs, “Hey, handsome. Look who’s here,” she speaks softly to him, running his hair out of his face with a soft smile.

Megumi looked up from his drawing, his face lighting up slightly when he saw his father. He was surprised that he was the one to pick him up, but he felt happy to see him.

He set down his crayon and immediately started to pack up his things, almost saying to hell with his backpack as he ran towards his father, Toji grunting with a soft chuckle as he caught him within his arms. The man’s entire physique softened as Megumi acknowledged him.

“You wanna leave some of your snacks here for recess tomorrow?” She asks him, happy at how elated he was to see his father. She was glad it wasn’t another response, otherwise she would’ve actually crashed out on this man.

Megumi thought for a moment before smiling and nodded gently in agreement. Her words reminded him that he did forget his snacks at his desk, but if he was to take them home now, he would eat them all before morning came.

He looked up at his father, who was still holding him and he pointed over to the desk. “Can I grab my snacks…?” he asked in a shy voice.

“Go ‘head,” he replies even softer than Megumi asked, running his hands over his hair as he pressed a kiss to his child’s forehead, letting him run back over to his chair.

Megumi grabs his snacks from the table as he begins to take them to the classroom fridge, placing them where his name is taped on the shelf. Ms. Honey was now intentionally avoiding her gaze along Toji, taking a breath as she clasps her palms together, “I didn’t hear the clean-up song while Ms. Em instructed dismissal time!” causing the entire class to recite the tune they’d come up with, packing up their last bit of things into their backpacks.

She hadn’t noticed as Toji’s eyes dropped down to her ass, never in doubt of this woman’s attractiveness irregardless of their debacle. Maybe if he fucked that stick out of her ass, she wouldn’t have room for another one.

Once she makes sure he has all of his things together, she lets out a breath as she exhales, “Okay, Megumi—“ a shriek from her own mouth interrupting her sentence as he swiftly dropped his backpack, tightly wrapping his arms around her lower half.

She can’t help her small giggle, hugging him back as she speaks softly, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Meg. Promise I’m not gonna run away.”

Megumi smiled up at her as she hugged him back, enjoying her soft giggles as he clung onto her. He nodded and pulled away, reaching down to grab his backpack as he waved, “Bye-bye! See you tomorrow,” gripping his small hand within Toji’s larger one.

As she watched him grab Toji's hand, their entire argument recited in her head. The guilt immediately hit her chest, wishing it would’ve been more productive conversation. On the other hand, he was still an ass, and she didn’t necessarily feel like she wanted to apologize—yet.

She gave Toji one more glance before she turned her attention back to the class, leaving the conversation exactly where it was before as he and his son left the classroom. There was nothing to say.

Once the entire class cleared out, she could tell Ms. Em wanted to practically explode, holding her mouth up until the kids were gone.

“And uh, what the hell was that?!” she exclaims in a whisper-yell, her tone full of curiosity.

“Girl,” she sits along her desk, crossing her arms, “I almost killed that bastard. Did you hear our conversation?”

“I would’ve heard him swallow if I was listening any harder. Goddam, the tension in here felt like it was ready to explode. I was afraid a chair was going to catch fire or somethin’!”

“Funny,” Ms. Honey rolls her eyes, “I can’t believe him. Getting mad because you don’t spend time with your son?”

“The audacity to try and argue with you about his terrible parenting. And the damn gall to walk into this classroom and act as if you’re the one in the wrong!” she pauses for a moment, raising an eyebrow, “Although, you should’ve seen his face from my perspective. It was like he was trying not to smile or something, I swear,” she teased in a sly tone.

Ms. Honey twists her face, “I hope you’re not trying to insinuate something in that big ass head of yours. It doesn’t matter how hot he was, still doesn’t not make him a bastard, Em’.”

Ms. Em sighs, laying herself on her friends desk as she dreamily sighs, “Come onnnn, you can’t argue that the man wasn’t attractive as hell. That scar, those muscles, that height…” she trails off, looking back at Ms. Honey with a smirk, “Ugh, I could moan right now. And he rides a damn motorcycle? My cervix hurts. Maybe you should give him a chance. You might be able to get him to change his ways,” she presses her hands to her chest.

“What Disney song are you about to start singing?” Ms. Honey raises her eyes, her co-worker raising her middle finger to her as she retorts, “If you don’t want him, I’ll put his ass on a leash, quickly!”

“I’ll meet you at Pet-Smart to buy his food then.”

Ms. Em rolls her eyes, “You're getting bitchy. That’s my cue to exit stage left!” She begins walking out, dramatically swaying her hips, “I feen for a good enemy to lovers trope. Call me when you wanna go to Pet-Smart!”

Being left alone with the classroom allows her to let out a big exhale, wishing the conversation hadn’t gone so left. She was simmering on this thought as she sat at her desk going through her students homework, a FaceTime call interrupting her work. She sees the familiar picture of her best friend, answering as she continues looking at the papers, “Yes, Ezra?”

Ezra groans dramatically as his face appears on her screen, brown skin and emerald green hair appearing as he draws out her first name, “Ah—sigh—yelll, I’m boooooreeeed,” pouting like a child.

“Bored? Don’t you have that car show to go to later?” Asael looks over the camera, “Or have a little sneaky-link to…link with?”

Ezra rolls his eyes, “That last man was a lil’ hookup. He’s not really my type. Besides, I have a new toy to play with,” he responds slyly, letting out a sigh, “But, that’s actually what I called you for, the car show is tomorrow night—and you’re coming with me.”

Asael frowns to the camera, “Says who?”

“Me, that’s who. You haven’t been out in a hot minute, you just need to let loose and relax, maybe find a sexy biker to swipe your little abstinence card,” he replies with a small giggle, ignoring the glare she sends through the camera.

“It’s celibacy, smart one. And I just haven’t…found anyone that truly arouses me, I’d rather be in isolation than have meaningless sex,” she shrugs.

“Almost a year of no dick is insane. You have a strong sense of mind and body,” Ezra shakes his head.

“My dick doesn’t have a mouth to get on my nerves, and only complains when I need to change its batteries,” she shrugs, “But as far as your plans, I’m good on that. Not in the mood to watch a bunch of guys do donuts in a parking lot for hours.”

Ezra rolls his eyes at her words, letting out a scoff, “Come on, it’s not going to be just guys doing donuts. There’s going to be live music, food, hot guys, oh, and hot guys again! My man’s gonna be there with his lil’ fire ass retro car.”

She hadn’t done anything with her last couple of weekends but cuddled in the bed with her cat, grading papers and overworking herself until all she wanted to do was sleep. She figured that flirting with a couple of guys with nice cars wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, and maybe would be a great start to her weeknd.

She tilts her head, humming as she thinks over the proposal, “Mmm, food truck food, hot guys with hot cars. Doesn’t sound too bad now that I think about it.”

“See, I knew you’d agree with me in the end. Ezra’s always right!”

She sighs, “I need an outing after the day I just had,” she admits more to herself.

Ezra’s eyebrows shot up with curiosity, “Oh? And why is that? Was someone mean to my bestie? Whose feet do I need to tie bricks to and throw them in the nearest ocean?”

“Yes, actually!” She exclaims, “Remember my student Megumi? The one I always send you pictures of? Super cutie with bad social skills?”

“That sweet lil’ kid who looks like he could kill with a single look?”

“Yeah, well I met his father. After playing telephone with the nanny I finally got a hold of Ghostface, and he ripped my ass to shreds. Told me it wasn’t my business how he raised his son,” she briefly explains, not wanting to piss herself off all over again.

Ezra’s jaw practically hits the floor as he processes her words, “You’re lying, who the hell does he think he is? The goddamn pope?”

“Did I mention the bastard is the hottest fucker you’ve ever seen?” She adds on, seeing Ezra’s jaw drop down to the core of the earth, Asael nodding as she laughs humorlessly, “Yeah. It gets worse. Motherfucker could put a nun out of commission.”

“And he ate you up that bad?”

“Chewed me up and spit me out. He literally came in on ten! He was not playing with me. Although I snapped his ass right back up, I’m starting to feel like it wasn’t my business,” she sighs, “But you know how I feel about Megumi…I’m just afraid that the lack of attention will cause him to change.”

“Damn. Megumi’s a sweet kid. He doesn’t deserve to be neglected by his own father, no matter how hot the man is,” Ezra shakes his head.

“I feel bad. I want to apologize—but the bitch doesn’t even deserve that,” she leans along her chair, rubbing a hand over her hair as she groans, half covering her mouth as she quietly admits, “He had a fuckin’ neck tat, Ezra! I wanted to lick him,” She admits, hearing as Ezra laughs at that.

“Can’t believe you didn’t snap a picture with your eyes and mind transfer it to me. You don’t love me forreal,” he smacks his lips, “But seriously, if he comes back to pick him up tomorrow, just take off your huge ass prideful panties and apologize. If he starts tripping, I’ll pop up and pop his ass.”

“Are you tryna’ get me fired? Or arrested? Don’t be funny,” she frowns, “I’ll just apologize and hope he isn’t on some extra shit. But if I call you, just know you will get the opportunity to slash someone’s tires.”

“I’ve been waiting all my life for this moment,” Ezra fake-cries into the phone, “I can finally shine!”

Asael softly laughs, rolling her eyes as she says, “I gotta finish these papers, just meet me at my place by the time I’m off work tomorrow.”

“Noted. One more thing?”

“Yeah?”

“If you don’t want him, can I have Ghostface? I promise imma’ answer the phone.”

“Ezra, get the fuck off my phone.”

“Muah! Bye!”

˚. ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏~♡ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

WHEN THE NEXT DAY COMES, Asael becomes antsy, glad for it to be Friday, but not glad that she admittedly has some apologizing to do. She knew that an apology was in order for her as well, but she wasn’t necessarily holding her breath on that one—especially when the person who picked up Megumi was the nanny and not Toji.

She knew it was now the weekend and that meant leaving behind issues at work, but she couldn’t help being the emotional person she was, constantly stressing on issues she wished she could immediately smooth over. She now stood within the full body mirror in her bedroom, eyeing herself as she was her own constant critic.

Her strawberry hair flowed around her face in layers, falling to her mid back. She wore a black mini skirt, the bottom of her ass poking out as paired it with thinly strapped matching heels, black baby tee and her red hello kitty purse. She leaned within the mirror as she lined her lips with brown liner, fluffy cat-eye lashes hanging above her previously darkened water line.

Ezra came behind her, playfully whistling, “So you are tryna’ get that card swiped tonight, huh?”

“Can I just be a girl that wants to be sexy, not because of a man?”

Ezra smirks as he tilts his head, seeing as she then mutters, “If he’ fine, then maybe.”

“Mhm, whatever. You’ ready to go?”

“Not as ready as you, you’ ready to see your man?” She teases.

Ezra leans within the wall, dreamily sighing, “I’m ready to do bad things to him. Let’s go!” He nearly drags her out of the house, preparing for an eventful night.

As they pull into function, cars line down the lot, motorbikes also grumbling along the ground as they model next to the customized vehicles. The air smells of gas, people taking pictures or showing off their most prized possessions, men and women all talking amongst each other, feeling the thrive of energy.

Asael looks around in excitement as they arrive at the car show, taking in the sight of the various vehicles and the crowd of people buzzing with excitement. From a pink Kuromi styled suped-up motorbike, to a black and white BMW E-30, tires screech under smoke as the vehicle takes off, swiveling around the parking lot almost like a video game.

They step back as cars fly past them, excited yells whooshing into the air. It’s a chaotic scene in the best way. Asael has a warm smile come to her face, feeling as if it's been a while since she’s enjoyed herself like this.

“Daddy!”

She turns as Ezra squeals, wrapping his arms around a taller man that chuckles, low waves along his head, brown skin almost matching the sweatshirt he wears. A bright smile comes to his face as he pulls Ezra into a hug, kissing his lips as he mutters within his ear.

“This is Cam,” Ezra grins against his mouth, Asael giving a soft smile as she greets, “Asael. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” he chuckles, “I don’t know too many girls that are into shit like this.”

She shakes her head, “To tell you the truth, I’m terrified of motorbikes and extremely loud cars, but they’re cool to look at, I’m just here for the ride. No pun intended.”

Cam replies amusingly, “Well by all means, you can always just chill by my car. It’s the ‘79 dodge charger.”

She takes a deep breath, nodding her head as she hides the jump her body wants to make every time someone loudly revs their engine. It’s not that she was afraid, her mind just thought of the worst when seeing these vehicles and bikes mindlessly racing one another, the fear of being hurt more concerning to her than anything—that definitely came from being around kids all day.

When she looks to his car again, seeing the multicolored headlights, she then compliments, “It’s fire as fuck, Cam. My chest hurts just thinking about how much you spent on customizing it.”

He sighs, “It was fasho’ a splurge, but the shit was worth every penny. She purrs like a kitten when she's revved up."

Ezra lets out a scoff as he rolls his eyes, “Yeah, yeah. Keep bragging about your car like it's your new boyfriend or something."

“How do you know I wasn’t talking about you?” Cam replies, wrapping his hands around Ezra’s waist, tugging him forward. They both laugh as they pull themselves into a kiss, and for the first time, Asael feels like the third wheel. Times like these made her wish she did have someone to romantically entertain, it made her feel a little lonely.

She clears her throat as she mutters to them, “I’m uh… gonna go find something to eat,” giving a weak smile as she waves, giving them no time to reply as she’s already searching for a food truck.

The music they play along the lot keeps her company as she takes pictures of cars she likes, too anxiety filled to actually talk to any of their owners. Most of the men had women who glared deeply at her, almost hissing as she passed by. She was starting to feel insecure for her outfit choice.

As Asael walks down the line, she makes her way to the small bar they have within the event, ordering a crown vanilla and coke mixture, taking light sips as she continues walking around. Her eyes slowly catch the attention of a handsome, caramel complexioned man who takes pictures of a custom challenger, headlights royal blue with a blower engine plummeting atop of the hood.

Okay, this was it. She lets out a deep breath as she compliments, “Nice car.”

The man looks up as he hears her compliment, his eyes roaming over her with appreciation. He smiles, clearly enjoying the attention.

"Thanks,” he leans against the hood of the car, crossing his arms over his chest, “She's my pride and joy. Been working on her for months. You’ showing off a ride here?”

“Oh, no. I’m uh—third wheeling my best friend,” she lightly laughs, “Decided to walk around by myself before they started hooking up in the car.”

The man chuckles at her response, "Ah, so you're in need of some company tonight,” he replies, looking her up and down with a slightly cocky smile.

She shrugs, already feeling slightly buzzed from her drink, “Maybeee,” she hums, “Unless you already have a passenger princess.”

The man smirks at her response, clearly enjoying the banter. He takes a step closer, leaning his hip against the car and looking down at her as he replies, “Nah, no passenger princess... yet."

Her tipsy aura has her feeling giddy, nodding her head as she agrees, “You seem to have good taste in cars and women.”

Just as she thinks there’s a possible connection between them, she turns her head to find the sound of people yelling, and her entire physique comes to a stop. It’s as if the hairs on her body stand up— instantly recognizing that aura from a mile away.

On the other side of the lot, the familiar neck tattoo filled her eyes, watching as he leaned on the seat of a Suzuki GSX-R750 street bike, cigarette within his mouth as his low voice sexily laughed about whatever conversation he was having. Her blood could’ve boiled as she watched him clasp palms with another man, dabbing him up as her eyes noticed something retract from his palm, now successfully within the other guy's hand. This had to be a joke.

“Can you uh…gimme a second?” She turns towards the guy she was previously talking to, giving an angelic smile.

She knew that this would be her second time being in this man’s business, but now she actually had a reason to spazz out. She can still feel the effects of her drink, knowing that’s another reason why she’s so adamant on going over there to knock his head off of his shoulders. Maybe she should’ve just headed back over to Ezra.

But as her hips twist with a vengeance and her heels thump along the ground to draw herself closer, maybe not.

A glare burns into the sockets of Toji as she stomped towards him, unable to hold her emotions back as she says, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Toji catches the familiarity of her voice as he looks up, his eyes meeting hers. A smug expression immediately appears on his face as he recognizes her, he lets out a lazy chuckle.

“You look pretty as fuck,” he tells her, his voice deep and gravelly. The statement has her face go blank for a brief second as he takes a drag of his cigarette, “Who are you tryna’ show out for?” exhaling slowly as he looks her up and down.

She realizes once again that she’s outside of her job atmosphere, pulling at the mini-mini skirt. The last person she expected to see was one of her students' parents, especially the one she’d just previously had beef with. Now he was looking at her in a way she hadn’t seen before. She wanted to punch him. It also made her very, very, horny. What the hell was happening to her?

“Are you serious, Toji?”

“Say my name again.”

“Bastard. What the hell are you doing here? What the fuck are you even doing? And don’t play dumb, I just saw you slide some shit over to the guy that walked away,” she fires off, his smug look making her want to jump atop of him and elbow him in the face.

“You’ watching me now?”

“You’re not very fuckin’ discreet!”

He shrugs, “I’m just showing off my car and bike.”

“Don’t play fucking dumb. I could call CPS on your stupid ass right fucking now!”

He pulls the cigarette from his lips, smoke pulling from his nose as he replies, “Don’t be a pain in the ass.”

“Don’t be a pain in the ass? Nigg—ooh!” she exclaims, watching as that makes him raise an eyebrow, a smirk coming along his lips as she continues, “You can’t be serious. I have to be immensely drunk if you’re gonna sit here and justify being a goddamn plug while you have a child. Where is your fuckin’ son, Toji?”

“You think I’d have him in this type of environment? Don’t fuckin’ play with me,” he almost sneers, Asael crossing her arms as he states, “I’m not an idiot. He’s with the nanny, her son comes over during the weekends to hang with Megumi. Got some other shit you wanna scream at me about?”

“I’ll give you five more things I wanna scream about!—“

“Hey, Zenin. I got you a beer like you wanted,” a girl comes beside him, interrupting the conversation as her green eyes stare over Asael, blonde hair and pale skin shining under the light of the lot.

A brief scan over Asael comes from the girl, jealously feigning her body as she narrows her eyes at her, “Who’s this?”

“This is my son’s teacher, Ms. Honey.”

“Ms. Honey?” The girl raises an eyebrow.

“That’s what I said. Her ass is nowhere near sweet,” he replies, Asael grimacing as he opens the bottle with his teeth effortlessly, the cap popping along the ground.

“Funny,” she squints her eyes, “It’s just Asael,” she corrects.

“A teacher,” it’s like this girl's eyes move without her permission, scanning Asael for the second time before she then states, “I’d never be able to tell.”

It’s shady, yup. It’s shady. Asael holds her breath as she asks, “Am I supposed to be wearing a cardigan or something?”

“To cover up that attention seeking piece of fabric you call a skirt? Maybe,” she gives Asael a dismissive once-over, still continuously sizing her up.

Her insults are corny, not enough to actually piss off Asael. The same way she attempted to dismiss her, she turns to Toji as she sighs, “I need to talk to you.”

“Now?” He leans himself forward, pushing off of the bike as he comes closer to her with a frown, “It can’t wait?”

“Do you think I give a fuck about your play-thing? I don’t. Yes, now.”

“Who are you calling a play-thing, bitch?” the girl sneers.

Asael’s eyes could’ve jumped out of her sockets, head swiftly tilting as she narrows her eyes, “Who are you calling a bitch, bitch?”

The thought of two women fighting over…essentially him, was an entertaining thought. But seeing Asael’s anger for himself and knowing he could handle her just fine, he wasn’t too sure if a girl he’d only been flirting with for the last hour or so had the same capability— or she was just a little too big for her own bridges. He also didn’t want to see his son’s teacher get into a fight.

“What’s your problem?” The girl scoffs, as if she didn’t start this conflict herself.

“What you’ mean? You were just talking all this hot shit, now I’m with whatever! I’m on that type of time!” She looks around Toji who’s hovered in front of her, hands shoved in his pockets as he mutters, “Chill.”

“How about you stop being so ghetto and act like a professional, Ms. Honey?”

“Ghetto?” she blinks, a crowd forming as Asael becomes visibly pissed off, “Who the fuck are you calling ghetto? I’ll show you ghetto, the fuck!” Now feeling racially attacked at the girl's words, Toji now steps forward as he grips for Asael’s waist, seeing as she’s inches away from hemming the girl up.

"Knock it the fuck off,” he snaps, his voice firm as he holds her back.

“Don’t tell me shit! Tell your hoes to watch they’ fuckin’ mouth! Talking about ‘ghetto’, bitch you don’t even know me!” She lunges forward again, the girl flinching back a bit, Toji gripping Asael harder, glare along his face as he’s now irritated.

His eyes hardened as he felt in her body that she hadn’t relaxed in the slightest. He knew she hadn’t been drinking enough to become belligerent, but he could tell her anger was something that wasn’t a simple passover.

His voice was now low as he firmly pulled her jaw up to meet his face, snapping at her in a way she hadn’t expected him to, "You're not getting into a fight over this. You need to calm down."

Toji then turns towards the girl as he says, “Go.”

“What?” She frowns, “Go?” She repeats.

“You heard me. Fuck off,” he tells her.

The girl rolls her eyes, “Whatever. You two can fucking have each other,” walking off as she throws her beer along the ground.

The moment she leaves, Asael feels herself still shaking, ripping herself away from Toji as she grunts, “I didn’t need your goddamn help.”

He instantly tugs her back, large hand having a deadly hold along her wrist, “Oh yeah? Then why was your little ass about to start a fight in a damn parking lot?" he snaps, his eyes narrowing as he looks down at her.

“You think I was gonna let a white girl call me ghetto? Have you lost your damn mind? Like I’m just acting out for no reason,” she sneers, yanking herself back, a game of tug-o-war at this point.

Toji actually becomes pissed off as he commands, “Get in the car.”

She looks over to the Dodge Durango Hellcat, engine humming, wrapped a shiny black with blood red headlights shining across and below the vehicle.

“What? I’m not getting in your fuckin’ car.”

“Woman. Get in the goddamn car.”

They’re now both staring at one another, neither of them making a move. He nods his head, a humorless smirk coming along his mouth, giving her a couple more seconds. Nothing.

He then leans over and opens the passenger door of his car, turning back as he firmly wraps his fingers along Asael’s throat and yanks her towards him. She yelps as he shoves her down into the seat, removing his hand from her neck as he brings his face close to hers, “Put your legs inside, cause I’m seconds away from tearing your ass up in this back seat.”

With the mouth she had on her, his was worse. She was learning that. Her parted lips shut tightly, face pulling back from his as she felt her cheeks go hot. She quickly pulled her legs inside, jumping as the door slammed next to her.

Now sitting with her arms crossed, he gets in on the drivers side, the silence between the two now being filled with her heavy breathing. Toji removes the leather jacket he wears, inked up arms flexing as he leans back against the seat, hovering his hand over the lighter within his car as he ignites another cigarette.

He takes a slow drag, the smoke filling the space between them as it’s still silent. He eyes her for a moment.

"Are you good now?” he asks, his voice level but still hinting at irritation.

“I’m calm,” she says flatly.

"Like hell you're calm. You nearly got into a fight over some random ass girl's words,” he mutters, exhaling smoke from his nostrils.

She turns her head, “Do I need to repeat why I was initially upset? It wasn’t about her. I don’t give a fuck about that hoe. I’m mad about what she said.”

Toji sighs, taking another drag from his cigarette. He glances over at her, studying her angry expression as he tells her, "You gotta learn to let shit like that roll off your back, baby," he says, his tone slightly softer, “Getting all worked up and tryna’ fight isn't going to prove anything."

“Oh? Says the motherfucker with the anger of a hornet? Just like you don’t need my advice, I don’t need a fuckin’ father.”

“How are you such a sweet thing to kids, yet act like this right now? Do you always get this pissed off?”

“No. Probably that damn Crown I drank. I don’t know,” she admits, the alcohol within her system feeling like two cups of coffee, her leg immensely shaking as she feels slightly frustrated.

Toji glances at her leg, noticing how much it's shaking. He reaches out, setting a hand on her thigh and giving it a squeeze to stop the movement.

"You're going to shake the whole damn car," he mutters, his hand still resting on her leg.

The touch makes her leg stop shaking, a chill running up her spine at his rough hands. Her arms soften as they’re still crossed, looking out the window as the event continues to play out, sounds of cheering coming from the other side of the lot as cars do donuts.

She looks back towards him as she mutters, “My bad.”

He notices the way she tenses up when he touches her, the subtle shiver that runs up her spine. It's a reaction that he finds intriguing.

"Your bad? That's all I get?” he asks, thumb slowly tracing small circles on her leg, almost absentmindedly.

“I’m not apologizing for almost giving that bitch a hands on tonsil removal, but I didn’t mean to make a scene,” she says, making that her version of an apology.

Toji lets out a low chuckle, the sound gruff. He continues to trace circles on her leg, his touch light yet firm as he sarcastically replies, “That's real mature of you.”

“If some asshole came up to you talking shit, you would’ve had his heart placed within his prostate. Don’t even lie,” she turns her head towards him.

"You're damn right I would," he roughly replies, his hand sliding higher up her thigh, his fingers squeezing the flesh there.

“Don’t you think that’s hypocritical?” She raises an eyebrow.

The moment after she asks the question, she lightly shifts her thigh away from him as the buzz of her drink has her core throbbing, feeling the secretion creating in her between her legs. Her hips nearly shook at his touch. She did her best to hide it.

He lets out a chuckle at her question, noticing the slight movement of her knee. His hand moves again, this time resting on her inner thigh. He can feel the warmth of her skin.

"I never said I wasn't a hypocrite," he replies, his voice dropping to a rough whisper. His thumb continues to slide across her skin, teasingly close to the hem of her skirt.

“Then…”

She didn’t mean to do it, she really didn’t. But damn, she couldn’t help it. The quietest gasp left her lips as his finger shifted right above the now drenched fabric of her panties, her entire body jumping at the simple touch. Her fingers yanked for the car handle, opening it up as she insulted, “You aren’t a hypocrite, you’re a fucking bastard!” Getting out of the car as she slams the door, mind fuzzy, legs shaking and hot as she makes her way back over to Ezra and Cam.

Toji watches in amusement as she jumps out of the car, shaking his head with a cocky smirk on his face. He shrugs to himself, leaning back against the seat and taking another drag from his cigarette.

“Hey? What the hell happened?” Ezra asks, seeing the look along his best friend's face, hands coming from around Cam's waist.

“Almost got into a fight, found Toji here, almost got my coochie touched in the car by Toji, and now I’m here, telling you!”

Ezra’s head nearly spins, “Wha?! Huh?!”

“Okay, quick run down. I was talking to this cutie with a challenger before I saw Toji in my peripheral doing…I don’t know, illegal shit with this guy. I said oh, so this is what we’re doing? He said it’s not a big deal. I said you have a son?! He brushed me off. Some girl walks up and sizes me up, we get into it and she ended up calling me ‘ghetto’ Toji physically put my ass in the car cause I was about to show her what the fuck ghetto was. He calmed me down and he was rubbing my thigh and I got really horny so I jumped out and—now I’m here?” She says the last part softer, Cam unable to hold his laugh, causing her to whine, “It’s not funny!”

“Fighting at a car lot, friend? Might be ghetto,” Ezra giggles, Asael letting out a sigh as she places her hands along her hips.

“You can say that, I don’t care. She couldn’t though. But seriously, you guys suck. I need another drink,” Asael grumbles.

“To pump you up for your next battle?”

“Fuck you. Imma’ smoke instead.”

“Better go ask your man then.”

“I will hit you!”

As Ezra dramatically pulls her into a hug to comfort her, she can’t help the soft laugh that comes from her lips. She just hopes this night becomes better before it ends. Asael was unsuccessful in all of the promises to herself, talking to Toji about Megumi, even getting that hot guy's number. All she wanted to do was ball up in a corner and cry at this point, but instead she sat atop of Cam’s car with the both of them, watching as people swerved around the lot with their own vehicles. It was now time for the motorbike show, large custom bikes revving loudly as they began flying past their bodies, Asael’s hair lightly flies back at the haste of the bikes.

Her eyes catch the scarred lip as he pulls in front of the car she sits upon, saying nothing else as he states, “Get on.”

She raises her eyebrow, looking him up and down as she frowns, “Excuse me? I’m not getting on that.”

Ezra’s eyes could’ve popped out his head, glancing over at the man as he said, “This is Toji?”

“Ezra, not now,” Asael grits her teeth, knowing he was shocked by the attractiveness of this man.

“C’mon, pretty. I don’t do all that stubborn shit,” He revs the engine of his bike, the sound filling the air as he rests his arms on the handlebars.

“Asael is afraid of bikes,” Ezra smirks, Cam wrapping his arms around him, purposely instigating the conversation as Asael glares.

Toji raises an eyebrow at Ezra's comment, turning his head to look at Asael, “Cute. Is that true?”

“Fuck you,” she says to him, hearing as that makes him darkly chuckle. When he tosses the helmet to her, she reflexively catches it before he states, “You got a couple more seconds of my patience before I put you on this bike like I put your ass in the car.”

She raises an eyebrow, “Is that a threat?”

“I make promises.”

She narrows her eyes at him, once again calling his bluff as she disagrees, “You’re not gonna do that—“ she begins, her mouth nearly dropping open as he sucks his teeth, locking the bike onto the ground as he begins removing himself from it.

She shrieks lightly, “Okay! Damn. Shit. I’m going,” standing from the car, hearing as Ezra and Cam giggle. She goes closer to the bike as she asks, “Where’s your helmet? Why’d you only give me one?”

“That is my helmet, stop stalling and get on.”

“It’s gonna ruin my hair,” she pouts, Toji snatching the helmet out of her hands as he replies, “Then get on a pray we don’t crash and your head doesn’t explode,” causing her to pull herself back, eyes wide as she shrieks, “What?! Toji!” She then whines.

His full on laugh is deep, sexy. He actually found her entirely adorable. He slides his fingers around her hips, lifting her leg onto the opposite side of the large bike as he murmurs, “Your hair is gonna be fine,” reflexively pulling her skirt that rolls up, eyes flickering to the hello kitty panties she wears. Yeah, okay.

Her heart stammers in her chest as she gets on the back, Ezra and Cam whistling out, “Nice ass!” as she has to arch herself a bit to comfortably sit behind him. As he now sits in front of her she immediately places her hands along his stomach, feeling the hardness of his abdomen, her fingers shaking as she does so.

She mutters to him, “Please don’t kill me,” a seriousness coming to her voice as she’s actually terrified.

Toji can feel her fear as she wraps her arms around his stomach. He chuckles softly, a faint smirk on his lips.

"We’d both die if you wanna be technical,” he chuckles, Asael closing her eyes as she presses her face into his back with a whimper at the thought. When he sees she’s genuinely terrified, he brings his hand backwards, lightly patting the skin close to her ass as he soothes, “Relax, baby," his voice low and rough, "You’re good. Just hold on tight,” bringing both his hands to the front, revving the monstrously loud engine of the bike.

“C’mon, Zenin! I didn’t put five-bands on this race for you to play around!” A voice calls next to him, another street bike braggingly revving their exhaust.

Her heart nearly dropped to her ass when all the other bikes began revving their engines. She’s expecting some type of circus act at this point, spinning around like maniacs and possibly killing her in the process. When she feels the bike begin to move, it takes off before she has time to mentally prepare, squeezing herself tighter around his torso as she clutches her eyes shut, pressing her cheek into the broadness of his back as she faintly shrieks.

Toji chuckles as she clings to him as if her life depends on it as he asks before it gets too loud, "You good back there?"

“Mm—mm,” she shakes her head, eyes still tightly closed as she squeals, feeling as the bike increases in speed, swerving through the lot, snapping past other bikes, gas within her nostrils as engines plummet and roar within her ears.

Toji can feel her shaking her head, her fear still evident as she buries her face into his back. He doesn't let up on the bike, pushing it faster than necessary. He can feel her body tremble against him, her cries only making him want to go faster. He swerves, making a sharp turn that causes her to cling to him even tighter, her mind going back to him saying her head might explode. What was she going to tell her students?

“Damn, pretty.” She can hear him chuckle lowly, gripping the material of his shirt as she trembles softly, “Don’t be a dick.”

He leans back slightly, shifting his weight and making her have to cling to him harder. He keeps the bike moving fast, zig-zagging through the other bikers.

"I'm not going to let anything happen to you. You're safe."

His voice is gruff yet somehow soothing. It feels like for once he’s not purposely being an ass, or constantly making jokes to rile her up. He feels genuine, knowing how terrified she actually is. As she leans against his shoulder, she peeks an eye open, her hair flurrying through the wind as she sees other bikes trying to keep up with him, going faster than anyone on the street. Her arms slightly relax as they still keep a firm hold on him, clutching as they lean to turn, a tickle coming in her stomach at the movement. A hesitant giggle pulls from her lips.

From all the crying she had been doing before, she could barely hear the music that came from his bike. Her mind focuses on the song, ‘Yam’ by Yeat plays, a curse yelling out from the biker beside them as they flurry past him like lightning.

Toji feels her arms relax slightly, her body responding to the movement of the bike. It was almost as if she was starting to enjoy the ride. A faint smirk tugs at the corner of his lips when he hears her giggle. He continues to weave through the other bikes, pushing the bike to go faster. Expertly maneuvering through the lot, Asael's hair flies wildly behind her, her body finally starting to fully relax.

"You’ getting used to it?" He calls over the wind.

She nods her head, softly replying within his ear, “I’m okay.”

It was as if the moment she said that, Asael shrieked as he floored it, another biker beside him as she felt her body falling backwards, looking to see as the front of the bike came off of the ground. Although she wanted to shit herself, she could admit that it was a cool sight to see.

As the front of the bike came off the ground, Toji let out a low chuckle at Asael's shriek. He could feel her body tense up behind him, her arms wrapping around him even tighter. He continued to control the bike, keeping it in balance as it rode on just the back wheel.

“Still scared?” He briefly turns his head towards her.

She rolls her eyes, “Just keep doing this cool shit!”

She giggles as he takes off in front of the other biker, engines nearly bursting their eardrums as they race one another. Asael yells out in excitement, Toji howling as the other biker struggles to keep up with them. In this moment her body feels like air, her hands sliding up to Toji’s chest as she places her face within the back of his neck, eyes closed as she relaxes against his scent.

His heart actually races as he feels her hands slide up his chest, her face burying into the back of his neck. He smirks, enjoying the feeling of her body pressed against him. The roar of the engine and the sound of the other bikes fill the air, but all he can focus on is her. He weaves the bike through the other riders, leaning into each turn with skill and precision. He can feel her breath on his neck, the warmth of her body sending a jump to his dick—he must've been losing his mind.

The race continues, Toji and the other biker neck to neck, engines screaming as they dart back and forth across the lot. Asael's heart beats louder than it ever has, the adrenaline pumping through her veins. She can feel Toji's heart pounding as well, the vibrations of the bike and his body making her cling to him even tighter.

Eventually, Toji pushes the bike just a bit harder, pulling ahead of the other biker. As they cross the finish line, he grins, feeling the thrill of victory coursing through his veins.

“That’s five grand on me, bitch!” He howls out, the other biker raising his middle finger to them as they both laugh within the air.

Asael rolls her eyes, giggling nonetheless at the cursing between the two men. They finally slow down, her hands loosening from around him as she immediately checks for her hair, still feeling her makeup intact as she adjusts her skirt, strawberry hair layering around her face loosely.

He smirks as his eyes take the sight of her adjusting her hair and skirt. Her red hair frames her face in an almost angelic manner, even after the wild ride they just had.

"Looks like you and your hair survived," he teases, a hint of amusement in his voice.

She brushes him off, “Whatever. Do I look okay? Do I have wind hair?” She asks, genuine concern in her voice.

He chuckles, watching her as she fusses over her appearance. He turns around slightly, his eyes roaming over her hair and face.

"You look fine. A little messy, yeah, but still pretty as hell," his voice rough yet sincere, coming forward as he pulls her hair out her face that sticks to her lips, the contrast of her caramel skin and colored hair, the lights of the lot making her almost ethereal.

The comment makes her cheeks grow hot, her legs coming off of the bike as she nods, pulling her hair behind her ear nervously. She then hears Ezra squealing, coming as he wraps his arms around her, spinning her around as it causes her to giggle as he asks, “Did you have fun?!”

Asael smiles, “I did. It was cool, I can’t lie.”

“Good. I’m glad you didn’t kill my friend, don’t know what I’d do without her,” he sighs, “Well, it’s getting pretty late. You ready to go?”

Asael doesn’t even realize it’s almost three in the morning. She looks back to Toji as she realizes she still hadn’t had the conversation regarding his relationship with Megumi. She nods her head as she says, “Yeah, uh. Actually— you guys go. I need to talk to him.”

Ezra frowns, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, go end your night with your lil’ boyfriend that’s so madly in love with you. I’ll be fine, promise,” she smiles softly.

Toji watches the exchange between them, his arms still resting on the handlebars of the bike. His expression is neutral, but there's a flicker of curiosity in his eyes as he glances at Asael.

Ezra hesitates, looking between Asael and Toji. Her words reassure him, and he finally nods, “You know I love you?” wrapping his arms around her as Asael hums, “I know, I love me too,” giggling as she teases, “Kidding. You’re my heart. I’ll call you tomorrow,” she blows kisses, both Ezra and Cam waving as they make their way back to the car.

Asael then turns to Toji as she says, “So, uh. I actually wanted to talk about Megumi. Is that okay?”

Toji’s eyes flicker, a stoicism returning back to his face as he says, “Yeah. C’mere, I wanna show you something anyways.”

Asael frowns, “If it’s in your pants, I don’t want it,” she crosses her arms, hearing as that makes a huff of a laugh fall from his lips.

Toji smirks at her comment, his eyes flashing with amusement. He shakes his head, his voice low as he replies, "I'm not trying to show you my dick. Come here."

Her eyebrows raise, arms crossing as she comes forward. He nearly rolls his eyes, taking her small palm within his large one as he pulls her towards his car. He throws his bike’s keys to one of his friends, helping her back into his truck as they take off out of the lot. The city looks pretty underneath the street lights, Asael rubbing the sides of her arms as she lets out a breath, “Where are we going?”

Toji glances at her as he drives, his eyes flickering over her figure as she rubs the sides of her arms. He notices the city lights reflecting off her skin, the girl more beautiful than he could ever imagine.

"You'll see," he says, his voice cryptic. He keeps his gaze focused on the road, his hands gripping the steering wheel firmly.

“Oh god, are they never gonna find my body? Did I make the wrong choice?” She asks, hearing that makes him chuckle, rummaging through his car compartment for his lighter, his attractiveness sticking out like a sore thumb as he drives with one hand.

"Nah," he replies, finding his lighter and igniting a cigarette between his lips, “I said you were safe with me. I meant that.”

They pull in what looks to be a garage, her eyebrows furrowing deeper at the navy blue building. She watches as he steps out, coming around as he opens the door for her, eyes still searching hesitantly around his face.

“I have pepper spray, gorilla,” she tells him, scanning over his large figure. That makes him laugh once again as he chuckles, “You’ve got jokes forreal. C’mon.”

She takes a deep breath, trying to keep up with his long strides as he’s taller than her, Toji opening the door to reveal a completely different idea of what she had in mind. It was similar to an art studio, having a bed and a projector playing music on a loop in one corner of the room, the other side having canvases, paint splashes, rugs along the floor, seeing this is where someone took their time to discover their creativity. The pictures amongst the canvases were women’s silhouettes, landscape creations, colors and different ideas all amongst her eyes.

Asael walks slowly inside as she looks around, turning to him as she asks, “You draw?”

Toji's eyes flicker as he watches her take in the studio, the surprise evident on her face. He takes a drag of his cigarette, leaning against the doorframe as she walks around the room, taking in the various artworks on display.

"Yeah," he says simply. He watches her as she stops in front of some of his more recent pieces, his eyes studying her expression carefully.

“So that’s where Megumi gets it from…” she hums.

Her body comes to a halt as she sees another wall. The pictures are familiar to her eyes, every single drawing Megumi made at school was within this wall, including the spider-man one he’d made not too long ago. A guilt almost hits her within the chest, crossing her arms as she mutters, “Shit,” to herself.

Toji watches as her eyes settle on a particular wall, filled with drawings that are unmistakably Megumi's. A mixture of pride and sadness flickers across his face, knowing that his son is far from a typical child. He stubs out the cigarette in his hand, his voice low as he speaks, “Kid’s obsessed with drawing. Always scribbling something."

It hits her like a ton of bricks. Maybe Toji wasn’t the white picket fence father, but she could see just how much he loved his son. She hated to be wrong or even admit to it, but it was time to face the music.

Asael sighs, “I…I feel bad about the first conversation we had,” she admits.

Toji raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. He leans back against the wall, his arms crossed over his broad chest as he eyes her.

"You mean the one where you called me a bad father?”

Asael’s arms drop, eyes narrowing as she says, “You know that’s not what I said, Toji.”

Toji's expression remains stoic, his eyes fixed on hers. He pushes off the wall, coming closer to her, his steps slow and deliberate.

"Ah, right, I forgot. Potentially bad father," he replies, his voice heavy with derision. He comes right in front of her, towering over her small frame as he looks down at her.

“What was I supposed to think? I mean, I never met you. You ignored my emails, my phone calls. I didn’t have anything bad to say about Megumi. He’s a sweetheart, I couldn’t ask for a better student. I just wanted to know where he came from. What made him tick. Maybe it was wrong of me to assume you had no type of relationship, but for your nanny to say you’re a ‘busy man’ and rarely spend time with Megumi, it made me concerned,” she sighs, admitting this as she sits along the bed, head tilting up as she stares over his towering frame.

Toji listens to her words, his jaw clenching slightly. Her concern for Megumi is evident, but her assumptions about his relationship with his son irritate him. He lets out a scoff, looking down at her seated form on the bed.

"I may not spend as much time with the kid as I should. Life's tough and I do my best to provide for him. But that doesn’t mean I'm a goddamn bad father," he mutters, his voice low and rough.

“That’s not what I’m saying,” her voice goes soft. “I…” she begins, taking a deep breath as she continues to speak, “I didn’t have my father when I was younger. I don’t have a good relationship with my mother, and with that, I vowed to give my child the love and attention I never received…until I found out that I was infertile, and that I’ll never be able to conceive my own children. Maybe that’s why I love my job so much, maybe that’s why I take these things to heart. But that doesn’t make it right,” a weight comes off of her chest, embarrassingly admitting her insecurities.

Toji listens to her, his expression stoic as she admits her past. He can sense the vulnerability in her voice, the weight of her insecurities. His arms unfold from his chest as he apologizes, "I’m really sorry to hear that, Asael. I appreciate the way you care for Megumi. I can also understand why you…can be the way you are at times, life hasn’t been a walk in the park for me either," he admits sharply. He pauses for a moment, his eyes roaming over her face, "But it doesn’t give me an excuse to be a dick or use my trauma against others."

“I’m not a dick,” she brings her eyes up to him, “Megumi clings to me like I’m his damn momma, it makes me almost want to cry at times,” she laughs hoarsely, “I really do care about him, he’s different from my other kids.”

Toji's eyes soften a bit, his expression losing some of its usual stoicism. He can hear the sincerity in her voice, the genuine affection she has for Megumi. He lets out a sigh, running a hand through his dark hair.

"Yeah, the kid’s like a magnet," he admits, "Damned if I know why, though."

“Because he can’t stick to you all the time. Listen, I’ll leave you alone about him. I just…please be sweet to him, you don’t seem like the type of father to be all mushy and shit, but it makes him smile. Little things go a long way with children, and at this age they need that affection,” she runs her fingers through her hair, sighing out, “He loves you, and you love him. I can see that.”

Toji listens to her words, his eyes studying her face. There’s a flicker of something in his gaze. He lets out a huff, crossing his arms across his chest again.

"You think I don’t think about how I haven’t been there for him as much as I should be? But you gotta understand, I do the best I can with the hand I’ve been dealt."

“Have you raised him alone since he was born?”

Toji’s eyes narrow at her question, her curiosity evident. There’s a moment of hesitation before he responds, his voice low again.

"Yeah, pretty much," he admits. He sucks his teeth, his eyes fixed on the floor, “His mother…well, she’s not around. And I don’t have much of a family to lean on, so it’s just been us most of his life."

It makes more sense to her why he is the way he is, understanding that his constant abandonment could be him wanting better for his child than he had, or his own traumas relaying over.

She sighs, “You’re doing amazing for what you can. He’s truly a little ball of sunshine,” she giggles, “Just wish he’d talk more.”

Toji’s expression softens a little at her words, a hint of gratitude in his eyes. He lets out a huff, shrugging his shoulders, "He's always been a quiet kid. But he's smart, always has been. Got his damn mother's brains.”

As silence falls between them, her eyes come up as she then hears him say, “I’m sorry.”

She tilts her head, “For?”

Toji sighs, his usually impassive eyes meeting hers. There’s a flicker of hesitation in them, a vulnerability that he rarely shows.

"For being a dick to you, I guess," he mutters gruffly, "You were just looking out for Megumi, I can’t hold that against you."

“Ms. Honey says that adding, ‘I guess’ to an apology doesn’t necessarily make it sincere,” she tells him, not wanting to put her teacher hat on, but unable to help herself as she gives him a soft laugh.

Toji scoffs, a hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. He leans against the wall, his arms still crossed over his chest.

"And you got that from your big ass teaching handbook, huh?" he retorts, his voice holding a hint of mockery.

She shrugs, “I’m more street smart than anything. But seriously, I gave you a real apology, so I expect you to get on your knees and kiss my feet or something.”

Toji laughs at her comment, his expression amused. He pushes off the wall, taking a step towards her, "Kiss your feet, huh?" he repeats, his voice low, "You're not asking for much, are you?"

“Mmm, this one of my smaller requests,” she giggles, trying to mask the nervousness she feels around him, crossing her legs as she plays with the end of her skirt.

A shocked laugh comes from her as he pulls for her legs, lifting them to the sides of her as he has a hold of her ankles, lowering his mouth as he kisses the side of her foot. He raises an eyebrow as his gruff voice calls, “Yeah?”

The giggling comes from still being slightly tipsy and now face full-on hot, nodding her head as she amusingly replies, “T—that’s a start.”

“Oh, now I got you’ stuttering,” he drawls. He removes her heels off of her feet, beginning to suck the skin of her ankles, dragging his lips down her legs as he goes between the both of them, creating quick pecks as he latches the skin into his mouth with a popping sound. Her giggling subsides as this causes her hips to raise, her fingers digging into the sheets as she presses her mouth into itself, a line of fire being created within her body.

She then clears her throat as she dumbly asks, “U—uh, did that hurt?” She refers to the tattoo along his neck.

Toji’s eyes flicker as she asks about his tattoo, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as his vision bores into her own. He keeps his lips along her ankles, "Nah, didn't hurt too bad," his eyes roaming over her form hungrily.

“Mine hurt like hell,” she refers to her own, the rose nearly taking over the left side of her neck, trying to keep conversation as she feels herself trembling—why was she trembling? Has it really been this long?

"Yeah? Tell me where else you got’ ink,” he wants her to keep talking to hear the shake in her voice, now hovering his face above hers, keeping his hand wrapped around one of her ankles, slowly beginning to lift it along his shoulder.

“U—uh, something on my chest…something on my hip…Little drunk ideas at the time,” her tipsy aura had faded, soberness knocking her in the head as she soaked in the fact that she was…alone with him.

Toji's eyes darken at her admission, his gaze traveling along her curves, imagining the tattoos hiding beneath her clothes. The thought makes something primal stir within him, the desire to know...to see. His other hand slowly traces along her thigh, tips of his fingers gently grazing up her inner thigh as it halts right over her panties, Asael’s mouth slightly parting as she sucks in a breath. His mouth parts along with hers as a dark chuckle leaves his lips, "Just those two, huh?"

“Probably more,” she says in a softer tone, her own hand raising to his shoulder, gripping lightly along his shirt to stop her hands from shaking. He leans forward more, letting their lips just barely touch each other. His fingers brush over her clit, rubbing against the fabric down to her opening as he hears just how wet she is, dropping his eyes down as he grunts, “Ooh, fuck,” Asael gasping along his mouth, her face probably as red as her hair at this point.

She moves her hand up to the back of his hair as her hips tremble, gripping the dark mane as she gasps out, “Toji—“ unable to get out her words as he roughly kisses her. Their tongues fall deeper into one another as they filthily make out, Asael’s open mouth dragging out a moan, eyes rolling to the back of her head as he practically fucks her mouth, head spinning as she desperately kisses him back.

He delves his fingers beneath her panties, Asael gripping for his shoulders, breathless as she whimpers, “F—fuck, just—fuck.”

“Wanted your pussy around my fingers the minute I seen you in this fuckin’ skirt,” he grunts within her ear, Asael whimpering deeper at that, feeling as he sinks his middle and ring finger past her opening, shuddering out a whine at his voice. Her skirt shoves up to her hips as she leans into the bed, unable to fight as he groans at her opening squelching from how aroused she is.

His fingers continue to work their way deeper into her, teasing her clit with each stroke of his thumb while keeping her legs pinned open with one hand. Their voices become muffled as they share a mix of moans, grunts, and gasps, lost in the intense pleasure of their mutual pleasurable experience.

It’s like she’d gone blind, eyes rolling to the back of her head as she gripped for his hair, his mouth parting open a his fingers fell deeper into her, catching her mouth with his as she groaned, “Toji,” she can’t stop herself, whining peevishly within his mouth, listening as her opening gushes, legs trembling as she pleads for his mercy, nearly killing her without doing much of anything to her.

As Asael's walls tighten around his fingers, signaling her impending climax, Toji presses his thumb against her clit with increased force, “Why is this shit so fuckin’ wet,” causing her to let out a series of desperate moans and whines. He watches her face closely, enjoying the sight of her flushed features and glazed eyes as she succumbs to the pleasure storm building within her body.

“I’m gonna cum,” she gasps, pulling one of her hands down to stop his wrist, crying softly as he snatches her hand away as he grunts, “Cum all over my fuckin’ fingers.”

He slows down, leaving her aching for more. His free hand wraps around her wrist once again, preventing her from trying to stop him as he begins to thrust his fingers deep inside her core, hitting her g-spot with precision. Asael's body starts to quiver in anticipation of her impending orgasm, her body feels desperate, creating a constant state of heightened arousal that leaves her completely dependent upon him for release.

She trembles out a moan, her other hand hanging onto his shirt as his mouth envelopes over hers, grunting out, “Right there?” She nods her head, whimpering shakily, “Right there,” bringing her hand down as she pulls his wrist towards her, his fingers scathing her gummy walls, a dark chuckle pulling from his lips at that.

Feeling the desperation in her voice and seeing the need in her eyes, he pushes his fingers even deeper into her tight canal, rubbing against her g-spot with just enough pressure to send her over the edge.

Asael lets out a long, drawn-out moan, her body shaking violently as she succumbs to the waves of pleasure crashing over her. Her hand releases his shirt and comes to rest on his shoulder, providing some stability amidst the chaotic sensations coursing through her body.

Her opening spouts out her arousal, Toji’s lips upon her neck, her hand gripping for his hair as she curses out, whining as she squirts along his fingers, something she’d never done before. She trembles, “Oh shi—shittt,” crying as he spanks her for that, grunting as he pulls his face up to kiss her, Asael whimpering as she attempts to kiss him back. She’s already completely spent.

“Gonna’ cum like that on my dick?”

“Shut up.”

“Tell me.”

“Shut up. Please.”

As Asael's body shudders and shakes, releasing her pent-up frustration in hot, messy streams onto his fingers, Toji watches in satisfaction. He savors each moment of her release, feeling the warmth of her juices coating his digits as they slide against her sensitive inner walls.

He brings his mouth up to meet hers once again, capturing her lips in a bruising kiss. Their tongues dance together, exchanging saliva and taste as he pulls away slightly to grunt, "Good fuckin’ girl. Gimme’ your eyes,” he pulls her face to meet his, “You got a fuckin’ mouth on you. Gonna make you cum as many times as you pissed me off.”

“‘M sorry,” she whimpered. He then snatches her to the end of the bed, spreading her legs as his mouth attaches to her clit, shaking his head from side to side as he spreads her opening with his jaw.

His tongue laps at her wet folds hungrily, teasing her sensitive nub with delicate flicks of his tongue, sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout her entire body.

He holds her legs open with one hand, tracing patterns on her inner thighs and giving her ass a light spank. The combination of sensations sends Asael spiraling further into submission, making her completely reliant upon him for any semblance of relief.

She lies spread-eagled across the bed, her body still quivering from the intense orgasm she just experienced. Toji leans in close to her dripping entrance, his tongue working feverishly against her sensitive flesh, the mixture of wetness and heat from his mouth combined with the occasional smack to her ass sends shivers down her spine, leaving her completely vulnerable and exposed.

His eyes flick upward, gray pouring into her vision as his voice groans, “Tell me how you like your pussy ate.”

She leans her head up, breathing harshly as she grips for his hair, her own strawberry curls sticking along her warm face as she whimpers, “Put your tongue in me,” begging essentially.

Toji’s mouth is quick, sliding his tongue deep inside of her, swirling it around and teasing the sensitive walls with the tip of his tongue. He can feel the anticipation building within her, and he knows that she's on the verge of another climax.

As he continues to lap at her folds, he speaks in a deep, rumbling tone, "Your pussy is so fuckin’ pretty, baby,” he adds an extra emphasis on the word 'pretty,' making sure she knows exactly how much he appreciates her beauty both inside and out.

She nods her head, opening tightening as she listens to his mouth, head falling back onto the bed as she spreads her legs for him, “Y—you look so pretty too,” she softly compliments, hearing him chuckle, a shiver coming across her body from the rumble of his amusement.

Her teeth digs into her lip as he spanks her again, jumping as her entire body ignites at his roughness. His hands move to cup her hips, holding her in place as he continues to eat her out. He loves watching the way she reacts to every touch and command, knowing that he has complete control over her body.

"Wait until I’m done eating you, imma’ fuck you so good," he growls menacingly, pulling his mouth away from her dripping entrance, leaving a trail of saliva in its wake as he looks up at her with a predatory glint in his eyes.

As he stands up, he grabs hold of her ankles and lifts them up towards his face, positioning her legs straight up in the air, tongue sloshing up and down as he indulges himself within her. With her legs held high in the air, he begins to slowly thrust his tongue deep inside of her slick entrance, pushing it in, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he moans, spanking her again. His hand reaches down to grab hold of her hip bone, using it for leverage as he starts to fuck her with his tongue, driving it in and out with relentless force.

She moans, music to his ears as she spreads more for him, whimpering harshly as a pout comes to her face, “I’m gonna cum all over your fuckin’ face, baby,” gasping as he bruises her skin with his palm for her sultry words. He deeply kisses her opening as he grunts, “Next time you cum it’ll be cause’ I’m fuckin’ you stupid,” he corrects her, “Better fuckin’ wait for me.”

She nods her head, pulling her thoughts together as she continues to take the pleasure he gives her, thighs shaking as she feels herself coming closer to the edge.

“Tell me you want my dick,” he gruffly commands.

“Want your dick so bad, baby, please,” she begs, spreading her legs wider, “Please,” she repeats.

He slows down the pace of his tongue, teasing her with gentle laps and light sucks before picking up speed once more, flicking his tongue against her clit relentlessly as he drives deeper into her throbbing core with each stroke of his tongue. The combination of sensations leaves Asael nearly breathless, her body trembling in anticipation.

He yanks her to the end of the bed, Asael gasping as he pulls her legs over his shoulders, lifting her up as they now stand inches away from the bed, her body held in the air by his strong arms. His hands hold the skin of her ass within his palms, Toji gently kissing her lips, pulling away to leave her mouth parted. She almost feels lonely. His tip is full and fat, smushing along her opening in a teasing way.

She places her fingers along his back as she whimpers, “Stop teasing me.”

Her mouth goes from parting to dropping open, feeling as he slowly sinks her onto the heaviness of his length, a sense of pain rupturing through her spine, overriding by a pleasure that nearly causes her to black out. Toji groans lowly within her mouth, Asael’s eyes rolling back as silence goes in between them, her legs trembling as she shockingly squirts along his abdomen, body shuddering as she groans from the unexpected orgasm.

Toji smirks arrogantly as he lifts his hand to smack along her cheek, “Keep your eyes open. Look at you, cumming from me putting my shit inside of you. You needed this, didn’t you?”

She grips for his hair, gasping against his lips as he lifts her up, dropping her back down, listening to their skin collect arousal together. Tears collect in her vision, whining mercilessly. Her body hasn’t subsided from her orgasm as he bounces her down, skin clapping together, Asael sobbing, “Oh my god, fuck.”

"Tearing your shit up so good, baby, you feel that?” He’s evil, continuously bouncing her up and down on his length, gradually increasing the intensity of their movements, battering her walls relentlessly while maintaining eye contact with her tear-streaked face.

She sniffles, nodding her head as she cries out, “I feel it.”

Toji’s teeth were nipping along her neck, leaving red trails against her skin. His hips snapped into hers with enough force to cause her to whine. Her nails dig against his skin, but it was far from uncomfortable. If anything, he liked it.

“This is what you wanted, huh?” he murmured, his hot breath against her ear. His tongue trailing against her earlobe, licking the sensitive skin.

“All you’ been thinking about.”

Asael helplessly nods her head, her eyes falling down to watch as their hips connected harshly. She breathed out, “Fuck, Toji.”

Toji’s breath hitches as he hears his name fall from her lips. It was a sound he could definitely get used to. His name was like a melody. It was a sweet song leaving her lips, hearing her say his name was like music to his ears.

“Watch your fuckin’ mouth.” He warned, sucking softly on her skin, biting down just enough to leave a mark.

“Thought you liked a lil’ potty mouth,” she attempted to tease, gasping through her words. Her eyes fluttered shut, inhaling softly as she felt his hand slam along the skin of her ass, his other fingers traveling up as they shoved into her mouth.

“You’re pushing it,” Toji tells her, squeezing her skin in his hand, biting down on her shoulder as his fingers press against her tongue.

“Keep mouthing off like that. Gonna use your throat for something else.”

“Sorry,” she whimpers, wrapping her mouth along his fingers, sucking gently as she moans.

“Yeah, you’re definitely not sorry.”

Her mouth wrapped around his fingers felt nice, her tongue pressing against them in a way that would send a shiver down his spine. He could only imagine what else that tongue would do to him.

He leaned down, moving his fingers out of her mouth to bite along her jaw, down to her neck as he grunted, “Fuckin’ tease.”

“And you’re a bastard,” she gripped the back of his hair, pushing out the words with the last bit of air within her throat.

Toji lets out an amused chuckle, the grip on his hair pulling his head back slightly. All of it drove him crazy.

“You like that shit,” He murmurs against her ear, his hips still forcing themselves into hers. “Admit it.”

She shakes her head, eyes rolling to the back of her head as he pulls her head back, looking within her face. She digs her teeth into her lip, refusing to give him a response.

“Fuck you,” she grunts out, her stomach dropping as he shoved his hips up, dropping her hips down. She trembled, her mouth flying open as she whines, “Fuck, baby. Fuck. Fuck.”

“Yeah? That’s all you got now?”

She gasped, hips shivering as she used one of her hands to cover her mouth, unable to stop herself from the broken moan she releases, “Fuckkk, my god. Stop it.”

He continued moving, forcing his hips against hers. He wanted to hear more of her. No, he needed to hear more of her.

“T—Toji,” she holds onto him, “Can’t hold on much longer, oh my…” she gasps, “Fuckin’ h—hate you.”

“You don’t.”

“I do,” she promises, eyes fluttering shut, “So much.”

“You’re giving me all this attitude, but you’re holding on so fuckin’ tightly to me like you don’t wanna let go,” he raises her hips, tip halfway out of her, feeling as her legs shake, Asael swivels her lower body as she whimpered.

“Cause I don’t wanna,” she then admits, her moans dropping from her lips like she couldn’t stop them, the sound of their hips connecting alarming around her ears, she trembles out a harsh cry.

“There we go,” he murmured against her skin, his lips trailing along her shoulder, “That wasn’t so hard.”

Each time he slams her down onto his dick, her pussy gripping tightly around him, releasing small waves of pleasure that seem to radiate throughout both their bodies.

“Pussy’s talking to me baby, huh?”

“Ugn—mhmmmm.”

She grips the side of his face, nodding her head as she begs, “Don’t stop,” trembling as she kisses along his neck.

“Don’t stop?”

His fingers dig into the flesh of her ass, grinding her onto his abdomen, arousal dripping down his abdomen each time their bodies connect.

“Don’t.”

She feels like he’s punishing her for the mouth she had before they ended up here, her attitude something that needed to be tamed. Now here she was—broken and needing him, attitude nowhere in sight.

“Reckless ass fuckin’ mouth of yours. Now look at you.”

“Fuckk, baby. Please.”

“What? Talk to me.”

She gasps, back of her thighs clapping along his hips, coating her arousal along his length as she breathlessly whimpers, “Sorry.”

“You should be.”

A peevish whine leaves her lips, dragging her tongue along his jaw until it reaches his lips, “Want you so bad.”

Toji grins at her whimpers and begs, the sound fueling his desire further. He captures her tongue with his, dominating her mouth as he increases the pace of his thrusts. The room is filled with the sound of their bodies connecting, the lewd noises and gasps they're both making.

"Fuck, never heard pussy talk the way she’s talking to me,” he groans in her ear, his voice filled with satisfaction, “You want me this bad?"

She gasps against his lips, holding his hair tightly within her fingers, brokenly moaning as she nods her head, head tilting back as he slams her hips down harder to meet his.

Asael's gasps for air between moans, her body twitching with pleasure and anticipation, only serve to further fuel Toji's hunger. He revels in her cries of pleasure echoing throughout the room as he continues to fuck her senseless.

She nearly whines like a brat when he pulls out of her, carrying her over to the bed as he lays his back against it. Pulling Asael by her blood rich curls, he grips his length within his other hand, slapping it along her tongue before pushing it between the lips of her mouth. Her eyes roll to the back of her head as she moans, immediately bobbing her head up and down as she sucks him within her mouth.

He pulls her hair back roughly, forcing her to look up at him as he holds her head still while he pushes his length into her waiting mouth.

“Begging for my dick, you even want my shit in your throat,” He watches closely as Asael eagerly takes him into her mouth, swallowing his throbbing length wholeheartedly, showing no resistance or hesitation in pleasuring him.

Her warm cheeks grow hotter at his words, keeping her eyes down as she opens her throat, mouth entirely full as she moans, tip slamming into her mouth each time her lips meet with his abdomen.

“All you needed was something in this pretty ass mouth of yours,” he grunted, using his other hand as he held her hair, positioning her up more as he guides her head down, bobbing her mouth up and down harshly that it causes her eyes to roll back, thighs squeezing together as she feels her clit throb at his tone. She’d never expect herself to be this indulged to a man speaking to her like this, embarrassingly enjoying every second of his dirty talk.

“I’m so…wet…” she admits between airs of breath, watching as that makes him grunt, head falling back as he grunts, “Yeah? You are? Shit, baby,” her lips smacking to his abdomen, taking him all the way down her throat.

He pulls her away from him, holding her up by her hair as his palm smacks along the cheek of her face, seeing the natural beauty of it as her lip liner fades away off her full lips, teary eyed vision lessening of mascara.

Her teeth digs into her lip as she nods, elatedly giggling as he growls at the sight. He grunts, “Yeah, okay,” pulling her up by the ponytail he creates as he scoots his body down, her hips now above his as he takes his other hand to spread her ass cheek, core squelching from the air it collects from the movement. The emptiness she feels is now replaced by the full girth of his dick, Toji mercilessly dropping her down onto his abdomen.

The shakey gasp that leaves her lips as Toji groans with her at the same time, “Ooh, shit. She missed me,” causing Asael to whimper as he spanks her in repetitions.

He’s propping her up to where her feet are along the bed, putting her in an almost squatting position as he puts his muscular arms under her legs, holding her by the thick flesh of her ass before he’s pulls her up slowly, slamming her back down, arousal spewing through the separation of their skin, Asael gasping deeply at the sound.

Silence goes between them as they listen, her eyes falling slightly behind herself as she watches her ass drop devilishly against his hips, wrapping her hand around one of his arms that holds her. Toji’s eyes are locked down, watching as each time he lifts her up, more of her arousal paints against his length.

His eyes flick up to her face, seeing as she can barely keep her eyes open, pouting heavily as she’s barely in control. He tells her gruffly, “Spread your pussy. Gonna go deeper,” guiding her hands to both of her ass cheeks, pulling them farther away from one another. Asael trembles atop of him, hips stuttering as she nods, desperately trying to keep up with him.

He guides her, roughly slamming her hips down to his, Asael now mewling defeatedly, feeling her eyes brimming with tears again as she runs her fingers over his arms, wanting to hold one of his hands.

“Keep going with all that whining shit you were doing earlier,” he tells her, a shockwave being sent along her body as he’s back to spanking her, Asael spreading herself from behind as she whines softly, “You’re so fucking deep, baby.”

“In your stomach?”

She nods her head, no words allowing from her lips as a late gasp shudders from her mouth. Toji tightens his grip on her hips, his fingers digging into her skin even harder as he forces her movements to follow his pace, his eyes never leaving her flushed and pretty face. He can see the way she's struggling to keep herself together, her eyes teary and her body trembling with pleasure.

Her desperation becomes evident in her movements, so he reaches up to intertwine his fingers with hers, gripping her hand tight, grounding her to him.

"Pussy keeps pulling me in,” he groans breathlessly, his eyes locked onto hers as he continues to slam her hips down onto him. He can feel her hand squeezing his, the touch adding to the intimacy of the moment.

"Just like you were made for me," he prods, his voice rough and possessive. “I can tell you’ve never been fucked like this. That’s why you’re so fuckin’ mad all the time.”

“Toji,” her chest shakes as she sobs, taking his hand as she places his fingers within her mouth, needing a way to quiet herself as her eyes roll to the back of her head.

“Just needed a dick to cum on. One to make you cum, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?” He arrogantly repeats.

“Aughhhh—ugh, fuck. Yeah.”

She felt as though she didn’t have any more energy to give, wanting to tap out— she knew that wasn’t happening. A soft gasp leaves her hips as they swiftly switch positions, Asael now against her stomach as her hips are arched within the air of the bed. Toji’s abdomen presses along her back as he hovers over her, eyes rolling to the back of her head, shoving her face along the sheets as she jerks out a breathless curse, fists tightening as he pushes back into her. She feels his lips along the back of her neck, his arms trapping hers beneath his.

She hopes— prays he tires himself out. He takes one hand as he wraps it around her throat from behind, deeply grinding his hips down into her. His lips attach to the side of her neck, fingers clutching her mouth within his hold as she shudders, “Oh fuck,” Toji arrogantly chuckling right beside her ear.

“Pretty ass tattoo, looks like the shit hurt,” he talks, deep voice wracking within her brain as he grunts, “Let me kiss it better,” dirtily making out with her throat, dragging his tongue along the skin nearly up to her ear. Her eyes can’t stay open, feeling as if she’s about to go blind, the pleasure of him smacking his hips directly along her g-spot has her muffling, “Ohhh my god. F—fuck. F—uckk.”

His pace gets faster, his grip on her throat and mouth tightening. He can hear the way she gasps and moans against his hand, the sound muffled and desperate. But he doesn’t let up, he keeps going, pushing her to the edge and then holding her there, keeping her on the brink of ecstasy and pain.

He leans down, his lips against her ear, his voice a dark, possessive growl, “Think this pussy had been waiting for me,” he pulls out, taking his hand as he bobs his tip along her entrance, watching as Asael trembles out a gasp, legs vibrating as she whines, “Gonna cum. S—so close, put it back in.”

He moves his hips against hers, rocking her body and making her whimper and gasp. Her body trembles and shakes, the pleasure and pain becoming too much for her to handle.

“Toji, please. Please.”

“Pussy makes me wanna fall in love,” he grunts, spreading her apart with his own hand, seeing her opening throbbing, gummy pink walls pulling themselves inward as they need his connection.

“Ungh,” she softly groaned, biting her teeth against the pillow, eyes shut tightly as she moaned along the sheets, eyes rolling to the back of her head as he rolled his hips against hers, still not going back inside of her.

“You wanna cum?”

“Yes.”

“Say that shit, then.”

“Wanna fuckin’ cum all over your dick, baby. C—can’t wait,” she nearly feels tears in her eyes.

The evil bastard rumbles a deep chuckle against her body, pulling her hair into his fist as he twists the mane into a ponytail, other hand spreading her opening father as he shoves his dick back inside of her, yanking her hips back with an angle to hit directly to her g-spot. Asael feels elated, a high-pitched giggle leaving her lips as she whines, eyes rolled to the back of her head as her orgasm nearly pushes his length out by the strength of pleasure, her mouth sobbing out half screams, face shoved into the pillow as she releases wildly. He picks her head up as he grunts, still keeping his hips plummeting into her, “Nah. Fuck all that. Cum. Shit feels good, doesn’t it?”

She nods her head, whining, “Yeahhh,” tears dropping from her face, catching his wrist within her palm as he damn near leaves a handprint on her ass, ignoring as his final words to her are, “So fuckin’ polite now. All you needed was to be fucked.”

The chaos of the moment drives him to a brink of insanity. To hear the suction of air spouting from her opening, Asael defeatedly gasping, head turning as her mascara ridden face tiredly moans, it’s euphoria.

His hips stutter as he pulls out with a moan, an unexpected movement from Asael as she quickly turns herself to let him release along her flushed face, her hands wrapped around the base of his length as she sticks her tongue out.

It makes the man halt, his eyebrows raising as she does so.

Both of their heavy breathing fills the room, her shamelessly beautiful face staring up at him with practical stars in her eyes, Toji for once in complete silence as she giggles from his shocked face.

“Shit,” he grunts, “Maybe I was wrong. You are sweet.”

Her eyes scan along his face, a new rise of confidence within her as she shrugs, “Could just be one of my better moods.”

“Better? You’re not in the fuckin’ heavens right now after I tore your ass up?”

Asael shrugs, “Maybe. Maybe not.”

As she continues to giggle, Toji raises his eyebrow. She must’ve forgotten who he was just that quickly. But she’s about to be reminded, a gasp falling from her lips as he twists her hair into his fingers, pulling her eyes up to meet him so she can hear every word.

“Nah, fuck that. Turn over.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ toji visuals + vibes ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

[n0tamused]

Jiyaaaan request coming your way~

While training his soldiers, one of them accidentally calls him 'Dad'. This leads to the reader teasing them but Jiyan teases back by calling them 'Mom' (or the gender neutral for it?)

(Was reading tv tropes and Jiyan had the 'A Father to his Men' tropes in his character tab lol)

A/n: Anon this request was so sweet, thank you sm for sending it in! Jiyan the father of an army fr.. I do hope I executed it well. Enjoy!

Content: Jiyan x F!Reader, fluff and playful stuff, nothing more

The morning sun had long since shifted its axis towards the center of the sky, blazing down through cotton clouds that sailed the azure skies. Below them, in the open fields, west of the main base cacophony sounded, consisting of commands, groans and other sounds of effort as the Midnight Ranger performed their training. And today Jiyan had come to overlook the session himself, although it wouldn’t be the first time. He was often so preoccupied with tasks at the front lines that he didn’t have the time to be leading drills too frequently, but when he did get the chance to do so he would take it. While it wasn’t a full reprieve from the battle, it was still a stark contrast to the grotesque and twisted fates he’d see daily on the battlefield.

Jiyan was noticeably more disheveled by the end, hair messy and hanging in strands and clinging to his sweaty forehead, hands on his hips as his voice rose to meet all ears present. You have just been passing by, helping carry supplies that just came in, and loading old and empty boxes back to be refilled in the city. For once there was no rush that would make your legs ache or your lungs hurt, allowing you all the precious time to bask in the views, the soft chatter and, of course, your dear lover.

The sun caught his figure and formed a golden aura around him, his skin glistening, and you couldn’t help but take a seat at one of many big boxes at the side of the training grounds after you had finished your task. In passing you caught a few looks, and a few smiles of the soldiers you knew from before. They looked much  more lively, despite the rigorous training they just went through. It made your heart warm seeing them in better spirits, wishing nothing more than to see them prevail and be happy. And just as you had recognized a bunch of familiar faces did Jiyan conclude his small speech, about to dismiss everyone with advice of rest hanging on every word. He had spotted you from the start, when you were going by with supplies in arms and soon he’d have a chance to speak to you too, he thought.

“General Jiyan! General Jiyan, a word or two- if I may?” 

It was a voice of one of the new recruits, Jiyan noted as he gazed at the face of the youth, a boy of twenty or so years by the looks of it, and eyes full of curiosity and admiration. He had come up to Jiyan just as he had turned towards you, prompting him to stay rooted in his spot a little longer. A few more young rangers came up behind the recruit, sharing the same curiosity but also being aware of whatever the recruit had on his mind.

“Yes? Is there something you need?” Jiyan questioned, looking at the young man. From his peripheral vision he spotted you moving down from the boxes and joining his side, staying quiet after a short word of greeting towards his Rangers, but your presence felt like a cool breeze under this sun, and he appreciated it all the more.

“I just wanted to say how great today’s training session was, we learned so much more than we did with our drill sergeant” he praised, smiling up at Jiyan all the while, “And I just wanted to ask whether or not you’ll be leading our training session tomorrow as well? Or any other day that is, we would really benefit from your teaching. I mean, you've seen it all for yourself at the front lines!"

The other few with him nodded along, prompting a small smile of pride to form on your face from seeing their fascination with Jiyan. To them he was everything they aspired to be - strong, enduring, tough but not lacking kindness or knowledge. There were times where they were scared to approach him, not knowing how he’d react to their questions, but from observing his interactions with others they warmed up to the idea and plucked all their courage. 

A polite smile curled up on Jiyan’s face as he regarded the youth with gentle golden eyes. His presence as the drill sergeant today wasn’t due to his availability, but a simple coincidence and necessity to fill the shoes of their drill sergeant that had been injured due to Tacet Discords, and Jiyan just happened to be able to be there. “Ah, you have my thanks, rangers. If a replacement for your drill sergeant does not arrive tomorrow and I am not required to be at the front lines, then I will be leading your training tomorrow as well” he told them, which pleased them greatly to hear.  “Although I’m sure Sargent Jin’xi has much more to teach you, something much more important for your sound development in this profession. You cannot take his method lightly. He has seen everything I have, as well. His knowledge is as valuable to your growth, and even more so than mine. You need the good foundation he can give you” He was aware of how confusing or hard it could be to listen to Jin’xi, as the sergeant had quite the eye for details and slow progress in lessons due to his meticulous nature - but that also made him all the better for his station. He was observant and could pluck out bad behavior and mistakes like weeds, and that is better to be done here, than in the middle of battle.

“We know, general, but sergeant Jin’xi is just so hard on us.. sometimes it really seems like he has no limit” one of the women standing behind voiced, earning a look from Jiyan that spoke of his understanding but also his disagreement with the subtle message they were trying to send - please, replace sergeant Jin’xi, or, save us.

“Yeah! One time I accidentally mixed up the weapons in the storage room and he had me do everything on my own again, saying how such mistakes can’t happen on the front lines, how it all means life or death” the first young man said, brushing his fingers through his hair and sighing. “I understand it, but we just got here..” he added and looked at his comrades. 

What was supposed to be a short chit-chat turned swiftly into a gossip galore about Jin’xi. Had Jiyan been any different from the man he was currently, he would’ve scolded them, taken offense at how they spoke about his colleague, but he was in their shoes once, always on edge around the higher ups, and he wished not to bring that same unease to them. He didn’t fail to remind them to not speak like this in front of everyone, and to respect sergeant Jin’xi when he does eventually return, and they gave him their word.

The first young man that approached looked at Jiyan after their discussion, both hands on his hips and looking more relaxed. “We won’t forget that, I promise on my last name! Still, we appreciate your kindness, and one more thing dad- I MEAN- GENERAL!” His entire face crumbled into a look of terror, and all eyes of the group shot to him, looks of surprise and amusement appearing before several of them erupted into laughter after taking a wary glance at Jiyan - who was not offended.

“General Jiyan! Oh god- I apologize, general, I don’t know where that came from-” he stammered, shaking his head and his hands, face flushed from sheer embarrassment. More choked words tumbled out of his mouth, desperate to excuse himself and forget about this. 

Jiyan can’t help but chuckle, the corners of his lips twitching in a failed attempt to hold back his smile. “At ease, recruit. You have not done any crime” he nods at the other, his eyes softening and not showing any sign that he’s about to dish out some punishment - that’d be ridiculous. 

You can’t help but crack a laugh too, covering your lips with your hand as to stifle the sound, but your mirth was evident in your eyes. “Have I missed a chapter? I didn’t know you had kids, general Jiyan” you teased, earning a few shocked but heavily amused looks from the group. Giggles erupted once more, all stifled as they waited for Jiyan to respond to the quip.

Jiyan turns his head to look at you, his eyes boring into yours and questioning your intentions - you can read the thoughts going through your head and your smile only widens in a silent call to a challenge of wits. He didn’t expect you to say something like that, but he could only huff, hiding his amusement under an abrupt guise of confusion.

“Kids?.. Why, I had hoped you’d recognize your own kids, Miss (L/N)” he shot back instantly, making your jaw drop at his rebuttal, a gasp flying past your mouth. “General” you said, accusations plenty heard in your tone as the atmosphere melted into one of jest and play.

Many eyes flickered between you and him, taking in the easy way you conversed with one another.

“Yes? What’s the surprise for? The recruits look up to you too, if you fail to notice. You can confirm with them right now” he is shifting the spotlight to you, and the recruits are quick to jump in too. “It is right, miss. Personally I haven’t been around you for long, no longer than I interacted with the General, but you two are alike, you treat us new ones with a firm but kind hand” a young woman said, smiling at you, and you feel your heart climb into your throat. 

“Can we really be surprised, they’re always together too-” "Aren't they married?" Whispering is heard amidst the group, and Jiyan looks amidst the faces to catch the one that said that but fails to do so, or refuses to weed out the individuals, and his eyes go back to you to catch your response. It’d be a lie to say your relationship with him was a secret, everyone knew there was something deeper between the two of you, something you didn’t show in public due to the war and status, but it was undeniably there. Still, hearing it loud and clear like this was like a splash of cold water. Despite their chatter, the group remained respectful, sweet in their musings.

“Ah, quiet, I do not want to hear it. This is about you, General”

“Ah, don’t run from it now. You’re the one that started this” he commented, rolling his eyes as he folded his arms over his chest. “Anyway, you’re all dismissed. I have a word with.. mother over here. Off you all go. I will see you all in the morning for another training drill. Get some rest” he speaks to the group, gazing upon their faces, only to see how they looked at him with some sort of childhood wonder, and that’s when he realized he must be flushed too. A sheepish smile bloomed on his face. 

“Alright! Awesome-” “Yes, sir!"

“Have a good day, General! And you too, Miss!” 

He watched them leave, bidding them all farewell, and when he turned to face you again he saw you pinching the bridge of your nose, hiding away the biggest smile of the day, the apples of your cheeks redder than before. The Midnight Rangers were undeniably close in connection, having spent so many nights and days huddled together for warmth or laughs or protection, and this small exchange only warmed Jiyan’s heart, to witness how positively they felt around him - and you. 

“Didn’t think we’d become parents so soon. Have we gotten that old already?” Jiyan commented, tone softer in a way he only addressed you when you were alone, and there was no one near the training grounds to hear you.

“Oh, shut up, Jiyan-” you playfully snapped, biting your lip as you looked up at him, stifling a giggle. “You are unbelievable!”

“Hm? Did you expect me to stay quiet today or ignore your quips?” he smiled bigger and you have to admire the little dimples in his cheeks as the smile reaches his eyes, making them squint at you softly.

“I don’t know what I expected, but your response was certainly the last thing I expected” you replied and shook your head, as if that would shake off the redness tinting your skin, imitating him now by crossing your arms. The two of you were looking at each other, wordlessly admiring your red faces while throwing these little quips at one another. 

“Ah.. you’ll get used to it, dearest wife”

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[iclarye]

Good Looking

pairing: opla!sanji x reader

summary: your plan was quick and simple. you would go to the kitchen, make some tea to ease your headache, and then return to your comfy bed. you weren't expecting to come across your crew's blonde cook barechested cutting carrots.

word count: 3.1k

warnings: 18+ content, smut, swearing, pet names, kitchen sex, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, cunnilingus, semi public sex, PIV

authors note: english is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes. read this fanfic on ao3: good looking. enjoy!

You are used to this. The utterly exhausted sensation after several hand-to-hand combats, so when the headache started when you finally lay down in bed, you just decided to ignore it; the sleep would catch up before it got.

Until the needed sleep never got you. So, after an hour or two of rubbing your temples and staring at the ceiling while feeling envy-induced annoyance for Nami’s peaceful breathing, you pushed yourself to stand up.

Even if the cool night air almost makes you wish you hadn't left your warm bed, you needed that green tea to stop the pounding headache in the back of your head. The kitchen lights shining through the window went undetected as your mind was busy figuring out how you could prepare the drink quickly so that the pain could cease as soon as possible.

“Oh, it’s you, darling. Is everything alright?” As you walked into the door and recognized Sanji's words, you snapped out of your thoughts and began to look over your surroundings. He was not wearing any type of shirt while he sliced carrots from behind the counter.

Barechested. Topless. Half naked.

“Y-yes, I mean, no. Just a headache.” You gaze the blonde in the eyes as you stumble through your sentences, you are merely vaguely aware that your face is beginning to turn red. “I just want that green tea; I know it's somewhere around here. I saw Nami storing it in the cabinets earlier.”

You felt foolish. You became used to seeing shirtless men given that you lived in the middle of the ocean and therefore often came across Luffy, Usopp, and even Zoro barechested. They would often walk around the deck that way on hot days. Sanji, however, always showed up in a suit or, at the very least, had a formal shirt rolled up to his elbows. Even so, there was no chance of seeing him dressed otherwise since he went to sleep after you and woke up before everyone.

“I can do it for you; it’s my job after all, taking care of my sweet girl.” He placed the knife down, threw the chopped carrots in a nearby pot, and proceeded to go through the cupboards. “Love, do you remember where she stored it? There are plenty of cabinets in this place.”

"What are you doing here?" You instantly regret your tone as you noted Sanji just froze in his search.

“I mean, sorry, the kitchen is your place, I know. I just never saw you here this hour, and me and Luffy go here to do midnight snacks sometimes”

“I could not sleep”

“Me too” Once again, an irrational remark. He was informed that you were having trouble falling asleep; that's why you were there. “Why the carrots?”

“The attack that happened today. I had hoped for more food, but I believe you are aware of how fucked our situation is.” He continued looking for the tea while chuckling flatly. “We don't know when we will receive more supplies; we right now have barely anything stocked. Even the carrot peels have been put to use in an effort to reduce waste, you know.”

You weren't sure how to respond. It was clear that everyone's mood was negatively affected by today's incident. The worry of what would happen in the next few days or weeks was filling your head since Usopp managed to escape the ship. His back was to you, so you were unable to see his facial expressions, but you couldn't help but notice his muscles.

You felt a little guilty since you couldn't take your focus away from it, despite him having just voiced some serious concern. Has he lately started working out, or has he always had muscles like that?

“Are you and Luffy close then?”

The sudden break in silence confused you as he turned toward you with the pot of tea in his hands and a pleased smile.

“I suppose so. After all, he was the one who invited me to join the crew, right?” You smirked at the thought. It wasn't much time—perhaps a few months—and you were losing track of time at sea. “I fearlessly agreed to become a pirate, although I had never spent more than two weeks on a boat.”

“I remember that. You were so naive”

Of course he remembers. When you joined the crew, it was very easy to have a conversation with Sanji; he was constantly complimenting you or flirting in a straightforward manner. You never took him seriously, hearing about the blonde's techniques from Nami from the first day, but it was often hard not to chuckle or blush when he was so…

“Not anymore.”

He grinned at you before returning his attention to the tea. It was impossible to look away from his bare chest. You were unable to rest your mind from imagining how his skin would feel on your hand now that he was in your line of sight. You are already aware that he's a good-looking man, but now seeing more of his body did things to you.

“All right, madam. Here is your tea.” He circles the counters until he's right next to you. Really close. His eyes twinkle with recklessness, and you know he caught you staring at his figure.

You ignore the tickle in your lower belly as you stand there, grab the mug in your hands, and sip while gazing at his face. He still has that typical smirk, and when you finally finish drinking your tea, he glances at your lips before returning to your eyes. Everything becomes fuzzy and hot then.

He's very close. His hand has been lying on the counter, his chest is nearly brushing your own, and you can't help but notice his modest, almost transparent blonde hair in there. Perhaps it's a sign for you to walk away, that this is going in a dangerous direction, but you can't.

“What dear? See something you lik-”

You interrupt him with a kiss; it's all very messy and quick, and he is unable to have time to handle everything. You come to an abrupt halt and stare at him with wide eyes, realizing what you have done.

“Sanji, fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t meant t-”

He didn't let you finish the apologies. His hand pulls your head back, bringing your lips together. The kiss looks right now. It begins carefully, with both sides cautious, but it quickly gets heated as he doesn't hesitate to push his tongue into your mouth.

You’re breathless when he finally pulls away, and his eyes are hungry. He didn't think twice before pressing his open mouth and tongue on your neck. A moan escapes from your lips.

His left hand shifts down to grab your hip, and you catch your breath. Your hands graze his nipples as you reach for his pecs, and he hisses at the fresh sensation in your throat.

“Gods Y/N, you’re going to kill me this way”

You chuckled, and he kissed you again, although this time you took charge, moving one of your hands to his blonde hair before tilting his head to grant you more access. You stop the action just to take a moment to recover and gaze into his dilated pupils. He looks so attractive like that that you can’t help but want to go down on him.

”Sanji,” You whisper breathlessly, enjoying the sensation of his name in your mouth, “let me taste you.”

He groans in response, which you take as encouragement as you lean down and proceed. You lick and kiss the trail that leads to his crotch, and he hisses softly, his abdomen tense beneath your hands and mouth. As you get down on your knees and look at his pants, you can see his erection, which seems big and marked.

You don't hesitate to pull down the waistband of his pants and boxers together, exposing his hard, leaking cock to your eyes. It's big. It's more than you expected. There's a buildup of cum at the head, and you reach forward and wrap your lips around it, licking gently just to tease.

You look up as you swirl your tongue over the tip and dip your tongue into the slit to see him biting his lower lips, his head thrown back. You wanted to see his face while sucking him. So you take him out of your mouth and cautiously wrap a hand around him, teasing him a little with your hand. Your movements are agonizingly slow as you lightly suck and lick the sensitive head until finally he looks down.

“Oh, darling, you’re so pretty like that.” Sanji whined above you, and then your mouth opened around the head of his cock, and he slid it into your mouth. “Fuck, fuck. So… so perfect.”

You can clearly see the blonde struggling to keep his composure, like how his knuckles are white while gripping the counter behind him. You relax your throat, take a long breath through your nose, and exhale slowly before swallowing him whole while gripping his inner thighs.

His penis is large, so the initial sensation isn't the most pleasant, but as he lets out a loud groan, you forget about everything. Something about hearing Sanji whine in the kitchen while you gagged on his cock made the aching between your legs unbearable.

"Oh yeah, Y/N. You are so good to me. Your mouth feels so good in me.”

You moaned softly at his words of praise, making vibrations around his penis, causing another moan from him. His left hand reached from the counter to your hair, and you didn't reject the help while bobbing your head up and down.

“My love, you are so perfec-“

A few tears occasionally escaped as you sucked him and he fucked your throat, sometimes only taking him out to run your tongue along his length. You started to see signs that he was close to cum. One of your hands left the thighs to rub his balls.

 “I… I'm going to cum, Y/N, dear... I" He gives you a chance to pull away from him, but you choose to continue and accept it all. You remove the entire length of his throat and leave just the head in your mouth.

He comes soon after, with a muffled groan, while you attempt to swallow as much as you can before it gets difficult, followed by a satisfied moan coming from you.

You felt his hand leave your hair, and for two or three minutes, you just remained there. He has his head back and is trying to catch his breath while you are on your knees, glancing at his chest and the beads of sweat gathering on his neck. It’s a perfect vision, honestly. You ponder whether he would notice if you began to masturbate right then.

“Come on, madam, let me help you up.” Sanji extends his hand to support you in getting up, and once you are upright, he grabs hold of your waist to keep you close to him.

He kisses you, tasting himself in your mouth. It's slow, and you realize he's still trying to emerge from his afterglow. When he breaks the kiss, that smile returns to his face, and you peck him once more just to get rid of it.

Sanji deepened the kiss again. And fuck, what else could you do but reply in the same aggressive way?

You're hoisted up by the hands on your hips and thrown onto the counter. The blonde is now between your legs, breaking the kiss, only to go straight to that specific spot on your neck that you're almost certain will leave a mark in the morning.

“Oh- Sanji,” You try to speak breathlessly as he licks your collarbone and his fingers brush the hem of your t-shirt, “You don’t h-have to do that.”

It wasn't that you didn't want Sanji. Since you entered that kitchen and spotted him without a shirt, you wanted this. Yet, you took the decision to give him an opportunity to back out, be thankful for the blowjob, and never bring up the matter again. Him taking you would be very personal.

“Please, my love,” You can hear the yearning in his voice as he whispers in your ear. “I just want to make you feel good too.”

You nod, and he attacks your mouth once again while his hands pull the hem of your t-shirt, exposing your chest, and you can't stop yourself from moaning at being so bare to him.

He doesn't think twice about placing his mouth on your breasts as he rolls the hard bud between his teeth and tongue and gives the other one a gentle stroke with his other hand. He bites your nipple as your head is flung back, and all you can do is pray that no one hears your loud scream.

He takes his mouth from your breasts and begins a trail down your stomach, and you can't stop whining due to the lack of warm sensation from his tongue in your niples, but you quickly figure out where he's headed as he lowers himself between your thighs.

He doesn't ask for permission as he aggressively rips off your shorts and, along with them, your underwear, revealing your pussy to him. He pulled your hips closer and dragged a finger down your folds, then placed it inside his mouth.

"Oh, you're so soaking wet, just for me, hm?" You are so stunned by the sight that you hardly pay attention to what the blonde is saying. “You taste so good, my darling.”

You stand on your elbows and glance at the man who is standing in between your legs. You can't help but gasp at the taunting as he starts giving you small small bites and kisses along your inner thighs. But you want him now.

“Oh Sanji, stop teasing for fuc-“

He didn't wait for you to finish the curse word before burying his face, pushing his tongue against your wet pussy, and licking a long, temptingly slow strip through your folds until he reached your sensitive bud.

In an attempt to create more friction, you thrust your hips into his mouth, and your left hand immediately settled on his blonde hair. Sanji found the ideal pattern to swirl his tongue over your clitoral region, leaving you panting for air.

He pushed two fingers deep within you, and you felt your walls clenching around them, sucking him in. His pace was fast, and he was still paying careful attention to your clit, leaving you close to the edge. You were a mess, and it wouldn't take long for you to cum. Yet you still needed him; you wanted more.

You sucked in a sharp breath and tried to block out the inappropriate sounds echoing through the kitchen.

“Sanji, p-please more”

"Use your words, my angel." You could see the glistening fluids from your pussy plastered on his chin when he pushed his head off of your thighs. “What do you want?”

“Fuck me, oh g-gods. I need you inside me." At your words, he groaned and took both of his fingers out to direct his cock at your entrance.

It wasn't difficult for him to enter since you were so soaked. At the feeling of it, you both simultaneously moaned. You felt completely filled; he just stood there for a while, waiting for you to get used to the size, until you signaled for him to start moving. It began off slow, but soon he started out moving his hips at a faster pace to satisfy both of you.

"You're perfect,” he moaned in two thrusts, and you had to put your hand over your mouth. “Look at you, taking my cock so well, oh darling.”

The hands on your hips let go and grabbed you under your right thigh, opening your legs and hitting you more deeply and faster. You thought you were seeing stars when he hit an exact spot inside your pussy that made you shout.

“Cum for me, my love. I know you want”

It didn't take long for your orgasm to hit you after that, your eyes rolled back and you let out a whine sound as you felt your walls squeeze his dick. He moaned along with you at the feeling and a few more thrusts and he came inside you.

Sanji's head fell directly to your shoulder, and you instinctively placed your palm in his blond locks. While the fluid was slowly dripping out of you, he continued to remain deep inside and breathe loudly.

He raised his head only to smile recklessly while glancing into your mouth. “So, do you still have a headache?”

Your hand reached out to push him, but you were helpless to suppress the giggles that came. He drew away from inside you but was still between your knees as he chuckled proudly.

“Do you think anyone heard?”

“I'm not sure, maybe when you let out that screa-" You slapped him on the shoulder to cut him off while embarrassed because of the probability. “Ok, ok my darling, next time we’ll find a more private place.”

“Next time, huh?

Sanji stood still with an anxious smile on his face; it was almost hilarious how someone so confident in themselves would respond in that manner. You wrapped his neck with both of your arms and gave him a quick kiss to reassure him that everything was fine.

"You should come to the kitchen more often, preferably alone.”

"And you should go shirtless more often too.”

"Only for you, my love.”

You gave him another kiss before leaving the counter, getting ready to go, and returning to the bedroom. Even though the night seemed to be becoming lighter, you were aware that there were still a few hours until sunrise. It was evident that there would be plenty of issues to address when you awoke, but for the time being, you were content, even though you were a little exhausted from the activities. As sleep came, all you could think of was Sanji and his smile.

© iclarye, 2023

[leona-hawthorne]

congrats on 1k!! i’m so happy for you !! tbh i’ve read your stuff for awhile now but i’ve always been so scared to reblog etc 😭😭

and your 1k celebration is also so unique omg? 🙏🙏

But for the book browsing, i think smut with the quotes/prompts: “if you fuck me the way you fuck me up emotionally, i think you’d do a pretty damn good job at it.” and “i hate you.” “do you? because you definitely don’t hold someone’s hand while fucking if you hate them.”

with the enemies to lovers trope with Mattheo would be so cute 😭😭🙏

hi hi hi!!! thank you for being the first to request for this ml, i appreciate you 🤍 💌 and please don't be afraid to reblog!! i can promise you that its one of the things that make me the happiest 😚 hope you enjoy this, i tried so hard to keep it short but i just couldn't help myself and now its 1.8k sorry!!

1k celebration navigation

HANDS OFF… book browsing

18+ MATTHEO RIDDLE

The party pulsed around you, vibrant and loud, the air thick with laughter, the scent of smoke, and the sweet tang of alcohol. You leaned against the wall, drink in hand, observing the chaos unfolding before you. But none of it held your interest. Your gaze was drawn to Mattheo Riddle, who stood across the room, surrounded by a throng of admirers, his cocky grin flashing like a neon sign.

You hated him.

He caught your eye, his smirk deepening as he raised his cup in mock salute. Blood boiled under your skin, a mixture of frustration and something more primal that you refused to acknowledge. 

You hadn’t even wanted to come to this damn party, but somehow, like fate playing a sick joke, you’d found yourself here anyway. The loud music was almost as intoxicating as the firewhiskey in your hand and it was only when you turned to head for another drink that you nearly crashed right into him.

“Watch it,” he muttered, eyes already narrowing as he recognized you. His sneer was familiar, laced with that unmistakable disdain he seemed to reserve just for you.

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, please. You’re the one who walked into me, Riddle.”

“Maybe if you paid attention instead of sulking in corners, you’d know how to avoid bumping into people.”

You raised your eyebrows at his words as your cheeks flushed from the alcohol, a defiant spark in your eyes.

"Or maybe," you said, voice steady despite the heat rising within you, "if you weren't so busy preening like some fucking peacock, you'd have noticed me sooner."

The tension between you was palpable, a tangible thing that filled the space around you. It wasn't often that you allowed yourself to be this confrontational with him—after all, you knew better than most what kind of trouble that could lead to. But tonight, you didn't care.

"So, Riddle," you continued, leaning closer until your faces were mere inches apart, "why don't you just go back to your adoring fans? I'm sure they miss you."

Mattheo chuckled darkly, the sound low and dangerous as he leaned in closer to you. "Jealous?" he asked, his breath hot against your cheek.

"You wish," you scoffed, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened at his proximity. "I couldn't care less about your little fan club."

Mattheo's lips curved into a wicked smile, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Could've fooled me," he murmured, his fingers finding your arm and tracing a gentle line up it.

You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry. 

"Get your hands off me, Riddle," you bit out, even as a shiver ran down your spine at his touch. The heat of his palm seeped through the thin fabric of your dress, sending sparks of electricity dancing along your skin.

But before you could pull away, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Off? Or would you rather I put them somewhere else?"

His words sent a jolt straight to your core, and you felt your knees weaken slightly. What the hell was wrong with you? This was Mattheo Riddle, the enemy, the arrogant prick who always managed to get under your skin. And yet...

"No," you breathed, even as your body betrayed you, pressing closer to his. "Just...back off."

Mattheo pulled back slightly, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he studied your face. "So feisty tonight," he purred, running a finger along your jawline. "I like it."

His touch was electric, sending tingles racing down your spine. You tried to shake off the sensation, but it was no use. Underneath the layers of animosity and distrust, there was something else brewing—a simmering attraction that neither of you dared to acknowledge.

"We're drunk," you accused, trying to sound stern even as your body craved more of his touch. "And you’re high on your own ego. That's all this is."

Mattheo chuckled, the sound low and seductive. "Is that what you tell yourself?" He leaned in closer, his breath fanning over your lips. "Because I think we both know it's not true."

"Fuck you," you spat, even as your resolve crumbled under the weight of his presence. Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, nails digging into your palms.

But then, without warning, you surged forward, capturing his lips in a bruising kiss. It was angry and desperate, all teeth and tongue as you poured every ounce of pent-up frustration into the embrace.

Mattheo groaned in surprise before melting into the kiss, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you flush against him. The world fell away, leaving nothing but the two of you, lost in a haze of desire and hatred.

Breaking the kiss, he nipped at your lower lip before growling, "You want to play rough, huh? Fine by me."

His lips found yours again with a force that was strong enough to bruise. His hands slid down to grip your ass, squeezing roughly as he deepened the kiss. He tasted like whiskey and sin, his tongue dueling with yours in a passionate dance that left you breathless.

In a swift move, he spun you around and pinned you against the wall, his body caging you in as he attacked your neck with kisses and bites.

"Strange how something so hateful could taste so sweet," he rasped, his fingers digging into your hips. "You're a fucking wildfire," he growled against your throat, his clothed hardness pressing insistently against your stomach. 

Despite the anger still simmering beneath the surface, you couldn't deny the thrill of being so completely consumed by him. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

When he finally broke away, you were both panting, chests heaving. "You know, if you can fuck me the way you fuck me up emotionally," he muttered, "I think you'd do a pretty damn good job at it."

With that, he grabbed your hand and dragged you towards the staircase leading up to the dormitories. You stumbled after him, barely registering the looks from the other students as you passed.

It wasn't long before you were basked in the privacy of his dorm, buried in his sheets with his cock lodged between your folds. The room was dimly lit, shadows dancing across the walls as you moved together in a frenzied rhythm. Mattheo's hands roamed your body, gripping your thighs, squeezing your tits, tangling in your hair.

"You're so tight," he grunted, thrusting deeper. "Fucking perfect."

You arched into him, meeting each stroke with a roll of your hips. The friction was intense, bordering on painful, but you reveled in the pleasure-pain mix. It was raw, primal, everything you'd ever wanted from him.

Suddenly you needed to touch him, to anchor yourself to something real amidst the storm of sensations. Your hand groped blindly until it found his, grasping it like a lifeline. Mattheo's fingers entwined with yours, giving a reassuring squeeze. He brought your joined hands above your head, pinning you even more firmly as he increased the tempo. 

"Fuck," you cried out, reveling in the feeling of utter control he had over you, even if for this one glorious night. Your nails dug into the backs of his palms as he met your passion with a fire and fury of his own, two volatile elements colliding in an inferno.

"Oh god, oh god, oh—!" you choked out, your voice cracking as the orgasm built inside you like a storm about to break.

Mattheo's grip on your hip tightened, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his own release. "Come on, baby, give it to me," he urged, his breath hot against your ear. "Scream my name."

The command shattered what remained of your control. With a ragged cry, you came undone, convulsing around him as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over you. Mattheo followed soon after, his moans muffled by your shoulder as he spilled himself onto the skin of your stomach.

As the pleasure faded, Mattheo collapsed beside you, his chest heaving. For a moment, you simply lay there, staring at the ceiling as reality slowly seeped back in. What had you done?

Rolling onto his side, Mattheo propped himself up on one elbow, studying your face with an unreadable expression. "That was...something else," he murmured, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

You flinched at the gentle gesture, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable. "Don't," you whispered, averting your gaze. "This doesn't change anything between us."

Mattheo sighed, dropping his hand. "No, I suppose it doesn't." He sat up, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

Despite the lingering tension, exhaustion eventually won out. Mattheo settled back against the pillows, closing his eyes as sleep claimed him. You watched him for a moment, noticing the way his lashes fanned out against his cheeks, the curve of his lips in repose.

Slowly, reluctantly, you turned onto your side facing away from him, drawing the covers up to your chin. You felt his arm slide around your waist, pulling you closer, but you resisted, maintaining a barrier of space between you.

As you drifted off, you knew this fragile truce wouldn't last. But for now, in the quiet darkness of his dormitory, you allowed yourself a brief respite from the war raging within you. Tomorrow, you would pick up the fight where you left off. Tonight, you just slept.

Morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. You stirred awake, momentarily disoriented by the unfamiliar surroundings. Then memory came flooding back—the argument, the makeout, the sex.

Shit.

You slipped out of bed carefully, trying not to disturb him. As you pulled up your panties, Mattheo began to stir. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"I have to go," you said quietly, keeping your back to him as you shimmied back into your dress. "Last night was a mistake. It shouldn't have happened."

There was a pause, then the rustle of sheets as Mattheo sat up. "A mistake? Is that really how you feel?"

You stood by the door, slipping on your shoes as you avoided looking directly at Mattheo. "Of course, it is," you replied flatly, your voice devoid of emotion. "I hate you, remember?"

With that, you grabbed your bag and made a hasty walk to the door, but just as you were about to twist the doorknob, he spoke, his voice low and smug.

"Do you? Because you definitely don't hold someone's hand while fucking if you hate them.”

Your heart pounded in your ears as you whipped around to glare at him, but you bit back the retort on your tongue. With a huff, you snatched open the door and stormed out into the hallway.

Once safely in the empty hallway, you leaned back against the wall, heart racing. A small, secret smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. Damn him.

[hyunverse]

wherever you are ☆ hwang hyunjin.

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

wc: 12.9k words.

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

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

playlist.

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

one.

“Happy Birthday, Hyunjin.”

It was Hyunjin’s 10th birthday. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hyunjin’s heart skipped a beat.

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

You’re a girl. 

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

A very pretty girl.

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

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

“I love it soooo much. Thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“White!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hyunjin felt like he could die. 

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

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

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

two.    

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

“Have you asked me the same thing before?”

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

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

“It so was!” 

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

You queried again.

“What did you answer then?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A fact you didn't want to accept.

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

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

“Hm?”

“Would you be wherever I am?”

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

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

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

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

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

Dear universe, be good to me.

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

“I’ll be wherever you are too.”

Yeah, Hyunjin would love it if time froze.

three.  

Don’t be a coward. 

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

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

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

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

Okay, step number one failed. 

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, Hyunjin really didn’t like him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

“Hyunjin, what’s up?”

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

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

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

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

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

“You were saying?” 

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

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

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

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

four.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How was he meant to tell you about Paris?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Especially when he was leaving — oceans away. 

five.  

Hyunjin had always loved soccer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s Yn, isn’t it?” 

“Huh?”

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

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

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

“The fact that you like her?”

“Yeah.”

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

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

“Why?”

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

“I mean —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bitter truths, but true regardless.

six.

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

“Please, stay patient. Will you?”

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

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

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

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

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

Hyunjin had brought you to a flower field.

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

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

You were as pretty as the flowers. 

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

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

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

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

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

Like a scene from a movie.

Like he wasn’t going away soon.

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

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

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

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

“You look good from any angle.” 

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

“Okay…”

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

“You didn’t even count to three!” 

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

“I wasn’t ready!”

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

“So you’re calling me pretty?”

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

Right. He has never. 

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

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

Hyunjin wanted to keep this forever. 

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s my camera film. So it’s mine!”

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

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

Hyunjin didn’t know what to do now. 

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

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

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

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

Paris. The one-way plane ticket to Paris.

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

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

“I win.”

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

“Oh.”

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

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

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

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

“See you soon?” you mumbled. 

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, see you soon.”

The last words Hwang Hyunjin muttered to you. 

seven.  

One day before your birthday. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course.”

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

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

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

“My girl, did he not tell you?”

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

Was there? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All traces of Hyunjin were gone. 

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

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

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

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

Your best friend was truly gone. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

eight. 

“Coffee, or tea?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hyunjin wanted to turn back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

nine.  

There are five stages of grief. 

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

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

Motivation.

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

Perhaps, it was distraction, disguised as motivation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He resembled too much like Hyunjin — your Hyunjin. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were confused.

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

You turned towards her, “Exhibitions?”

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

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

“Secret lover?”

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

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

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

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

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

ten.

You truly tried to be happy for Hyunjin.

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

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

Clearly, you failed at convincing yourself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until your eyes trailed to a certain piece.

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

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

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

It was a fragment of your memory. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s you, too. You’re here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please, give me a second chance.”

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

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

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

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

“It's always been you.”

eleven.  

“Careful — come on, get under here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How’d you find this place?”

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

Your heart swelled at the confession. 

“It does resemble that one a lot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You still have the feet of a ballerina.”

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

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

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

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

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

You kissed him, for the second time that night.

“I’m already yours, Hyunnie.”

twelve.  

Things with Hyunjin had been going exceptionally well. 

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

You couldn’t deny it, of course.

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

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

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

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

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

“Then come cuddle.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You coming to the exposition?”

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes widened at the words written on the screen.

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

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

Over a week ago. 

Yet Hyunjin hadn't told you anything. 

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

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

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

thirteen.

You hadn't seen Hyunjin for a week.

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

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

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

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

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

Damn you, Reine. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Trembling, you parted your lips to speak. 

“You’re hiding things from me.”

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

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

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

Ah.

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

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

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

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

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

Love, sometimes, is about being selfish after all.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[mrfoox]

Talking with Oliver really is the best tbh