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#bothered by whatevers going on in the outside world

causenessus · 1 day

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part 0.8. HOME

NOW PLAYING . . . right side of my neck by faye webster

as that last ball dropped on the court, there was absolute silence. it wasn’t clear whether that was because everyone was still processing what had happened or if it was because one side was shocked at how horribly this game had gone. or, more specifically, one boy was in shock at how horribly he had played.

then she was approaching him and his heart dropped amongst the squeaks of shoes against the floor, his teammates getting ready to clean up while the other team congratulated each other.

he had been nervous all day, nothing had gone as he planned. he wasn’t able to pull her aside to talk to her all day which had left him walking in the dark. he had no idea when he was going to be able to talk to her today but he knew he didn’t want to run away.

but he had been so nervous his hands were clammy and shaking, his legs didn’t move like he wanted them to, and his mind was preoccupied by other things than volleyball.

“tooru, can we talk?” she was in front of him, and he felt dizzy for a moment. but this was the present, and this was the only chance he had.

“please,” he said, sounding more urgent than he meant to, but he had been dying to talk to her all day.

her brows furrowed with concern before she began walking towards the doors of the gymnasium and he followed behind her quietly.

he looked around the gymnasium. kuroo had his arms crossed and was giving him a stupid grin from the other side of the net. matsukawa and hanamaki had smug smiles on their faces as well, and iwaizumi only nodded.

he sighed quietly to himself, sometimes his closest friends were the biggest teases in the world and no help at all.

they walked outside to the parking lot behind the building, the sky was turning a dark blue and purple as the sun was setting. he was so distracted by it he didn’t see her stop and turn around to face him.

she grabbed his hands to get his attention, and his heart twisted as she looked up at him. “hey, you’ve been acting off all day, are you okay? is something bothering you?”

he didn’t know how to respond, so many words and feelings were bubbling up in his chest and getting stuck in his throat. “yes,” he started, placing his hands on her shoulders, “you.”

her lips parted a little in surprise, “me? i’m bothering–”

“yes!” he exclaimed, somehow they had ended up moving farther back and she was up against the side of the car, “you…i’ve been trying to grab your attention all day. and i’ve been so nervous because i have something to tell you but you were so busy so i’ve been waiting and i just kept getting more nervous so that’s why i messed up this game so bad.” he looked away for a second, mumbling under his breath, “you’re lucky i love you.”

y/n blinked, he was building up to whatever he was going to say and it was making her more nervous, but this had been her fault. she had kept telling him to wait whenever he said he wanted to talk. “i love you too, tooru. what did you need to tell me?”

his face warmed as he looked back at her. she thought he was saying it as a friend. she was really going to make him say it. he groaned, leaning closer to place his forehead on her shoulder, “no, not like that. and iwa-chan calls me the idiot, god…” he pulled back to look her in the eyes. “i love you, yn. when bokuto was talking about how i liked someone he was talking about you. i like you.”

“oh.” she turned red, feeling like her entire body was paralyzed as she looked at him.

he kept going, taking his hands off her shoulders to run them through his hair, “and it’s okay if you don’t like me back, iwa-chan and kuroo said you might but i’m still so scared maybe you don’t.”

the silence that filled the space after that almost made him pass out, his heart was beating so erratically he couldn’t calm himself down.

then she spoke, “no i…i like you too, tooru. i’ve just been so scared these past few years–”

then there were lips against hers and her legs almost gave out. he pulled back just an inch, and her eyes were lost in his. “shut up,” he murmured, lips still close enough that they brushed against hers as he talked. “don’t believe anything i said when i was younger, unless it was a compliment about you. i was stupid back then.”

he kissed her again and she sighed against his lips without even meaning to. all the stress and heartbreak that had welled up in her finally leaving. her hands found their way into his hair, pulling him closer.

when they broke apart, he had a hand on her face, his thumb rubbing small circles into her cheek. “when you got distant however many years ago, i realized how much i needed you with me. and i’ve just continued to be stupid until now because i hate being apart from you. i want to be with you,” he spoke, his breathing a little labored.

she kept her hands on the sides of his head, keeping him close, “i want to be with you too, tooru. i’ve wanted to for so long, and i promise i’ll never get distant again.”

“good,” he pulled her in tightly for a hug, resting his head on her shoulder, “i’m going to keep you to that promise.”

“i wouldn’t dare break it,” she replied, returning the hug.

they stayed entwined in each others arms for a little while longer before she saw something out of the corner of her eye.

she saw a few heads peeking from around the corner and sighed, drawing lazy circles across tooru’s back before she pulled away from the hug.

“makki and mattsun, you can come out. and who is that? kunimi?” she called out.

the three boys stepped out guiltily. “we weren’t spying, promise,” hanamaki began.

“iwaizumi sent us out here to check on you guys,” kunimi continued, looking unbothered by the arm tooru had wrapped around their manager.

“can we go home now, mother? i’m tired,” matsukawa complained, kicking his feet at the dirt.

y/n broke out into a small smile, looking at the bunch, “of course, loves. let’s go home. sorry we took so long.”

prev. | m.list

extras <3

as soon as y/n took oikawa outside kuroo was yelling for everyone to get ready and iwa was herding everyone up the stairs to watch them from the windows above the court

kuroo and iwa bro hugged after tooru kissed y/n, happy their work finally paid off

extra a/n things b/c it's the end <3

this is based off an experience of my own LMAO except mine didn't have a happy ending but my "friend" in question was frustrating and confusing me so much i projected onto oikawa

BIGGEST PET PEEVE IS USING NAMES IDK WHY UGH using yn bro felt like i was in a wattpad fanfiction i felt so bad but hopefully the written part was okay

ik i could've dragged this out longer but the ideas just kinda came to me and i'm ready to start a new smau everyone give it up for me pls this is the first work i've ever actually completed and not abandoned

taglist: @anonnreader777 @daisy-room @deluluforcarlos55 @eggyrocks @hikikaimar @httpakkeiji @intergalacticrory @localgaytrainwreck @mitfloya @reallyvexin @sunarins @usermins @yenonnoff @wyrcan

#oikawa tooru #tooru oikawa #oikawa tooru x reader #tooru oikawa x reader #oikawa x reader #oikawa smau #haikyuu smau #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #hq #hq x reader

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fivefeetfangirl · 6 months

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convention money is crazy. i wish i could make that kind of cash just from taking pics with people and signing my name on shit. lord what misha and jensen made in two days would feed and house me for a decade easy. madness. i bet they got free food all weekend too. fuck my entire life aint worth $250k. i could literally sell everything i own, a kidney and my ass to a dozen dudes and still be 90% short of what misha and jensen made this past weekend.

you and me nonny, you and me 😔

personally im good. i dont need their money. i'll wear my wool sweater and wool socks and keep warm etc etc but it just feels so unrealistic sometimes. like they really do be living such a completely different life than most of their fans. thinking about con prices and such really is crazy. im not gonna come on here and say they should do this and this with their money but i do hope they do feel some resposibility to do something useful with it

#the thing is. im fine. im good. my uni is covered like 99% by the state. i have my student loan which im saving for something else. and i #live with my family during normal uni days (not rn tho). and i get that theyre in like a completely different period in their lives. they #have worked like 30+ years and i know misha comes from a poor family and i do know he often donates to charity which is nice #but like every time i actually sit down and think about the numbers. jeez. like. one picture. i payed 120 euros for ONE picture with misha.#and i get that i dont have it bad. i went to a con. im going to a con. but like. i do that and have to not do something else. yk? i have to #choose. imagine never having to think things through without buying (omg re rob and the watch or whatever)#anyways. idk. feels weird. the world is unfair (i hate saying that). and i doubt they (jenmish) will get cheaper and i doubt cons will stop #so yeah. i suppose it kinda is a it is what it is situation #stuff like this is always so weird. we mock my dad for going on business trips and stuff. but for him thats tiring. so like i get its their #job to do cons and thats tiring. but for me. (us?) an outsider. it sure looks like a really easy job. idk. im just ranting and throwing #thoughts out there. hi! if you bothered reading this far down <3 #funny that my feet are freezing rn. the amount of wool clothes im wearing you guys. crazy. gonna take a hot shower later to warm up

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scarlethexelove · 1 month

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Our Omega

Pairing: Alpha!WandaNat x Omega!Reader

Word Count: 5155

Warnings: Smut, Wanda and Nat have a penis, Soft!Nat, Rough!Wanda, Heat, Mating mark, Knotting, Breeding, Someone tries to attack reader but Wanda and Nat stop them, Hints to lactation kink, I really don't think there is much else.

A/n: I really hope this isn't shit. I really liked writing this. Wanda isn't too rough in this one but definitely rougher than Nat. Just sweet alphas who don't treat their sweet Omega like shit.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

The door chimes causing your gaze to lift to the opening door. You’re shocked to see the people walking through the door. The Avengers have just walked through the door of your small bakery. Leading the group is the pack leader along with her mate. Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff, two alpha’s. The rest of the mostly alpha pack followed close behind. Normally so many alpha’s in an area won’t bother you but with you so close to your heat and being an unmated omega is making it difficult with all of them around. You put on a mask knowing you need to be your best when the most famous people in the world are in your bakery.

With a wide smile you greet the group. “Hi, I’m Y/n. We have a wide array of baked goods for you to choose from. Just let me know what you would like and I’ll get them all ready for you.” Wanda tilts her head looking at you curiously but you just give her soft smile back. Nat is also watching you but you can’t seem to read her. The gaze of both the alpha’s on you causes a light dusting of pink to cover your cheeks. The rest of the group looked around to see what they wanted to eat.

Nat clears her throat. “Everyone wait outside.” She demands the rest. “But I want to look.” Tony whines. Nat turns to look at the rest. “I said wait outside. We will get everyone something.” Nat’s demanding tone has your inner omega wanting to submit causing you to shrink in on yourself. As the rest go to wait outside the two alpha’s turn back to you noticing you’re dropped head and smaller form. “I’m so sorry mega. I thought it would be easier without everyone.”

You wanted to be thankful for what she did but at the same time you need to be able to handle a room full of alpha’s if you want to have a successful business. But you know she just meant well by her actions. You lift your head and give her a small smile. Brushing off your previous distress and ready to help the two women with everything they need.

With less alpha’s in the room their scents invade your senses. One of their scents laced with cinnamon and spices, reminding you of fall. The other smelling of sweet vanilla. Both of their scents are intoxicating already. Both women are very attractive but you know you can’t think like that they are already a mated pair and they probably wouldn’t want an omega like you. So you push it out of your mind and focus on running your business.

“What can I get for you?” You ask the women. They look around for a minute before Nat speaks up. “Two of everything.” You can’t help the look of shock at the woman's order. “A-are you sure?” She gives you a kind smile. “Yes please.” You nod and start moving around to get everything you need. “Of course. I’ll have everything ready for you in a few minutes.” You move around the area gracefully. Throwing in a few extras as you go. Wanting nothing more than to satisfy the Avengers.

You can feel their eyes following you but you are in your groove currently. Once you are done with everything they come up to the counter and Natasha pulls out her wallet. You wave your hands and shake your head. “No, no, no. It’s on the house, my treat. You guys do so much for the city. The least I can do is give you guys some food.” Nat shakes her head back at you. “I’m not sure your boss would like that. Also I insist.” She starts pulling out money ready to pay. “I’m actually the owner so I can give you whatever I want.” You tell the alpha. You would normally never talk back to an alpha, especially an Avenger but you want to get your point across. But neither of them are going to take no for an answer. Wanda takes some money out of Nat’s hands and gives it to you. You look down at the cash and back up at the alpha’s. You can tell by the looks on their faces that they will not take no for an answer. So you look back down at the cash in your hand and gasps. “This is way too much.” In your hand is almost $500 dollars, way more than what it cost to get everything.

Both alpha’s shake their heads. “Keep it. You deserve it.” Wanda says. She has the softest and kindest smile you have ever seen. “I-I-I don’t think I can take this.” You stutter trying to hand some of the money back but neither of them will have it. Wanda takes your hands in hers. “Please take it.” You look at her hands around yours and then back up to her face. A small blush covering your face when you nod. “Okay.” You say barely above a whisper. She smiles before she and Nat take the baked goods, making their way out leaving you shocked.

That is how your friendship with the Avengers started. After that day you saw at least one of them once a week. Sometimes alone and sometimes the whole team would come in. You built a friendship with each member but as they continue to come a crush on the two women formed. They were always so sweet and kind with you. Nat plays up a big persona of being hard and little emotion but you can see right through that facade. Which only makes your crush grow stronger, but you know you can’t act on it. So you leave it at that just a crush.

With the Avengers frequenting your bakery your business picks up exponentially. You had to hire more employees to help you keep up. One of those being your best friend Kate Bishop. You thank the Avengers for their business and the fact they have brought in more customers for you. Always trying to give them free food but none of them ever take it.

Today wasn’t like other days. You had 3 call offs and your heat was quickly approaching. You thought that you had a few more days but as the day drags on you know you won’t make it. You have already called Kate who had the day off hoping she could cover. She of course said she would but it would take her some time to get there. So now you’re fighting your heat and just waiting for her to get here.

The room is filled with alpha's, some of them pausing to look at you. A hungry look in their eyes as they realize what is going on with you. You want to run and hide but you can’t leave the store unattended so you suck it up the best you can. That is until a wave of burning stabbing pain hits your lower abdomen. You wrap your arms around your stomach, hunching over as you hold in a whimper. You don’t even hear the ringing of the bell as another patron enters the building. Another stronger wave has you crumbling to the ground, a whimper escaping your lips.

You can now faintly hear a commotion but you can’t focus on the words or voices. You look up seeing an alpha about to jump over the counter when they are pulled back harshly. There is a commanding roar of an alpha that causes you to whine and bare your neck waiting for the alpha to approach. You wish your inner omega was stronger but with your heat here you can’t control it. Two alpha’s approach you quickly crouching down next to you. You let out another whine and strain your neck more.

“Oh milaya, none of that.” Wanda’s hand cups your cheek. Both of their scents invade your senses, calming you down slightly. You can’t help but nuzzle her hand causing her and the other woman to smile at you. A whimper escapes as another wave of pain courses through you. Leaving the women concerned for you. They have been falling for you just as much as you for them but they were worried you wouldn’t like them back or want to be involved with Avengers.

Just then Kate rushes in the door, her eyes scanning the room seeing that there had been a scuffle. Concerned for your safety when she can’t see you. She knows your heat is close, that is until she catches a whiff of your scent. She knows that you have gone into heat and how dangerous it is for you to have been here. She rushes around the counter stopping when she sees you curled in on yourself as Nat and Wanda crouch next to you. Wanda’s hand is still on your cheek. She lets out a growl at the woman. She knows that you aren’t in any danger with them but she instinctively wants to protect you while you’re so vulnerable. Neither of them move their concern only on you.

“Kate, we are here to help. We don’t want to hurt her.” Nat speaks calmly to the other omega. Kate looks from them back to you. She can see you, how you're trying to nuzzle in further to Wanda. She lets out a sigh. “Sorry alpha.” She puts her head down. Becoming part of the Avengers pack as Yelena’s omega has gotten her close to them and she didn’t want to disrespect the pack leader. “It’s ok. I know you are only trying to protect your friend.” Nat moves closer to you leaning down and moving to pick you up. She acts slowly to give you the chance to pull away but you don’t. It makes the woman smile as she picks you up. You quickly wrap yourself tightly around her and nuzzle into her scent gland. Breathing in her cinnamon scent that calms you.

“I think we will take her to the compound, she will be safe there. I don’t trust that after those alphas coming after her that she will be safe. They could easily follow her home.” Nat speaks to both Wanda and Kate. They both nod in agreement. “Kate, do you have this here?” Nat asks as she holds you closer to her. “Yeah I think I got this.” Kate replies before the door chimes. All three women go on defense growling at the scent of another alpha but all calm when they realize who it is. Kate’s mate Yelena struts through the door holding up her hands in surrender to the three as you whimper in Nat’s arms.

Yelena smirks at the older alpha when she sees you in her arms, wrapped tightly around the woman like a koala. Nat rolls her eyes when she sees how her sister is looking at her. “Lena!” Kate says bouncing over to her and throwing her arms around her neck pecking her lips. Yelena’s hands placed firmly on Kate’s hips. “Yel help Kate out here we are taking Y/n to the compound. Some alphas attacked so maybe help her clean up a bit.” Yelena looks around at the mess brows furrowed as Nat speaks. That is until she catches your sweet scent. Instantly understanding your predicament and understanding why the three were growling at her as she came in the door.

“Please be careful you two.” Wanda tells the alpha and her omega, handing Kate some money. Kate looks at the money and then back up to Wanda confused. “For damages.” Wanda explains. Kate is about to argue back about that but the look Wanda gives her tells her there is no room for that. She is second in command of the pack and will not take no for an answer. So Kate gives her a nod moving to start cleaning up the place, Yelena helping her mate clean as the two women leave with you.

Once the alphas get you to the compound they take you to the spare bedroom next to theirs not wanting to overstep any boundaries you might have. It has been hard for them to fight their inner alphas to not to just claim you as theirs. You’re currently wrapped around Wanda tightly as she walks into the room. She goes to put you on the bed but you don’t let go. “Malyshka can you let go?” She asks softly, but your only response is to shake your head and whine. Being in their arms is the most comfort you have had in a long time dulling the ache.

So the women decide to take you into their own room. If it provides you the comfort you need they will take the suffering to make you feel even the slightest bit better. Wanda sits down on the bed with you still wrapped around her. Your head in her neck as you let her scent drown out your senses. Nat walked away from the two of you for a few minutes before coming back. In her arms is a plethora of blankets. She sets them on the bed next to Wanda. “Detka?” She crouches down in front of you two and says softly. “Can you please come out? I brought you blankets for a nest.” Her voice is still soft, watching you for any movement.

Slowly you pull your head out, eyes landing on the pile. You hesitantly move not wanting to leave the comfort of the alpha but your inner omega is telling you to build your nest. “Thank you Nat.” You whisper, taking the blankets and moving to a corner of the room. It has been a losing battle to fight your inner omega who just craves the women. But you don’t want to overstep too much so you build your nest in the corner. You crawl into it moving things around till you’re comfortable.

Being around the alphas has dulled your pain. It is still there but in less intense waves, but the slick has increased. You can now feel it coating your thighs. The two have watched you intently, hard uncomfortable bulges in their pants. Wanting nothing more than to claim you as their own. It isn’t until your small voice breaks the silence in the room that they break from the trance. “Alphas?” You whimper. The women quickly move over to you concerned that something could be wrong. You look up to them with tears in your eyes, scared to ask anything more of them but craving their comfort.

Wanda’s hand gently cups your face, her thumb rubbing over your cheek gently. “Yes, omega. Do you need anything?” Wanda’s softness makes you purr as you nuzzle. “Please stay.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but they hear you. The women share a look before they agree. Nat gets in front of you which you instantly cuddle into her side, your head instinctively nuzzling into her neck. Wanda slots herself behind you. Both of them cuddle you tightly.

Nat notices it instantly, your warm slick slowly coating her thigh. You start grinding against her thigh. Your brain is not even registering it until you let out a soft moan. A look of panic crossing your face when you realize what you are doing. “I-I-I’m sorry.” You try to pull away but their arms wrapping around you tightly keeps you in place. “What do you need mega?” Wanda kisses your shoulder and mumbles. You let out another whine at her words wanting to beg them to use you, breed you, mark you, to become their mate. “We can’t help you if you don’t tell us, sweet girl.” Nat kisses your forehead letting her lips linger there.

You look up to the woman in front of you. “I want you, both of you.” You whisper. They are both slightly shocked but not entirely due to your recent actions. Nat’s hand cups your cheek. “Are you sure? This isn’t just your heat?” You shake your head no at her words. “Wanted you for a while. Didn’t think you wanted me. I’m nothing special.” You look down out of embarrassment waiting for the rejection, but it doesn’t come. Nat’s finger hooks under your chin, making you look back up at her. She gently kisses your lips before pulling back your breaths mingling together in the open space. “We want you too, and you are special. You are the most kind and gentle person we have ever met.”

It’s so quick that you don’t even notice. Wanda’s arms are removed from you and Nat has pushed you on your back hovering over you. “If you want us to stop or you change your mind you can tell us.” Nat tells you gently pecking your lips. “Are you sure you want this mega?” Wanda asks you. You nod your head. “We need words pretty girl.” You look at Wanda who is laying on her side with her head propped on her hand. “Want you.” Was the only words that slipped past your lips. In an instant with red whisps all of your clothes are gone. You look at Wanda a bit shocked, a smirk playing on her lips.

Soon the alphas' clothes soon follow. Their rock hard cocks springing free of their confines. You feel Nat’s slap against your stomach causing you to look down. Your eyes widen at her sheer size wondering how she will fit. Your eyes then trail to Wanda. She looks even bigger than Nat, not by much but a noticeable difference. You can feel more of your slick coating your thighs as you whine.

Nat kisses your head as her hand guides her cock to your folds. Swiping through them coating herself in your arousal, her tip nudging against your sensitive bundle of nerves. You let out a moan as she keeps nudging. When she is satisfied, she moves the tip down to your entrance, looking at you for your confirmation that you're still ok. When you give her a nod, she slowly starts to push in. Slowly sinking her cock into your wet and warm cunt.

“Fuck so tight.” Nat moans as your walls clamp around her member. You’re so thankful for your heat, your slick allowing her to slip in easily. You wrap your legs around her waist as she sinks in further. When her thighs meet your ass you gasp at the fullness. You’ve never felt this full in your life and it feels so right.

Nat gives you some time to adjust to the stretch fighting her inner alpha to just pound into you mercilessly. Wanda turns your head leaning in to kiss you. Her hands reach between your bodies as she finds your breasts. Her fingers expertly tweaking your nipples causing you to moan in her mouth distracting you from the fact that Nat has pulled almost all the way out before sinking back in. Her pace is slow at first just getting used to you. You feel so good and she doesn’t want to cum too early.

When Nat feels like she can, her pace quickens. She fucks into you gently, her thrust deep as she angle just right. Hitting your spot deep inside. Wanda’s mouth is still on yours as she swallows all of your moans. Enjoying your full breast in her hands, groping at pinching her nipples as her mate fucks into you.

You don’t expect the alpha to be so gentle as she fucks you but it feels so good from her. Her caring and soft side showed through with every thrust of her hips. She leans up grabbing your hips watching as her cock disappears into your hole. Entranced by your sweet scent and how you take her so well. How your hips buck into her to meet her thrust trying to get her that much deeper. The outline of her cock bulging from your skin, she presses down and a loud moan is escaping you. She looks back up to watch as Wanda devours you, catching every whimper and moan until you can’t keep up anymore.

“So pretty and made for us. Taking me so well.” Nat praises you. “So perfectly wrapped around my cock squeezing me so tight. Fuck.” She moans when you clench. Your panting, eyes closed as your orgasm builds. One of Wanda’s hands drifting down between both of your bodies finding your bundle of nerves pinching it between her fingers. You cry out in pleasure and pain as she continues. Both women bring you so close to the edge. Your walls squeezing Nat tight, her grunts and moans filling your ears. Her knot starts to form hitting against your entrance, just begging to fill you.

Wanda’s hand continues toying with your clit as Nat drives her hips into you. Your legs are slightly shaking around Nat’s hips. She leans back down the more her knot swells. You're both close to cumming. She kisses your scent gland sending small waves of pleasure. Her hips become more erratic when her knot fully forms. Slamming against your entrance. With a few more thrust her knot pops in and her teeth sink into your neck. You cry out in ecstasy as your orgasm washes over you. She marks you claiming you as her omega. Filling you with her cum as your back arches. Grinding into you as white hot ropes of cum fill you. Your cum coating her cock as your walls squeeze her knot, milking her dry. She lets your neck go and licks your wound clean. You look up at her curious and hopeful eyes. She smiles and leans her head giving you access to the opposite side from where Wanda bit. You lean up sinking your teeth in her scent gland. She moans out and you don’t know how it is possible but you can feel a few more spurts of cum filling you. Which just causes you to moan around her bite. You release her and lick it clean just as she had done for you.

You’re both panting, Nat’s knot locking you together until it deflates. Wanda’s hands move away giving you two a chance to bond. Nat takes the time to gently move you both so that you are on your side. You feel the bond growing strong as you bask in the aftermath. She gently kisses your lips before leaning her forehead against yours. The room is silent until you break it. “Thank you.” You whisper between you two. Nat smiles. “No need to thank me detka. I have been wanting to do that for a long time.” The three of you laugh. It’s funny how you all wanted each other but none of you thought the other would. “Me too.” You smile, your breath still heavy between you two.

When Nat’s knot finally deflates she removes herself from you. You let out a whimper at the lost feeling empty as your mixed cum leaks out of you. Wanda kisses your shoulder and mumbles against the naked skin. “My turn malyshka. I want you to ride me.” You look back at her, your eyes wide. “I-I’ve never.” You stutter a little having never ridden anyone before. She kisses your shoulder again. “That’s ok detka. You’re going to look so beautiful bouncing on my cock.”

You feel Wanda shift as she lays on her back. You turn yourself to look at her. She has her hands behind her head and her cock standing proud. You don’t know how she was so patient when you look at her cock. Her tip is angry red and pre-cum has leaked all down her shaft. Her hand moves to wrap around and gently jerk herself. She had wanted to save all of her cum for you to fill you even fuller than you already were. You hesitate for a moment before getting up and shifting. Throwing your leg over her hips hovering over her cock. Her hand is firmly around her cock lining it up with your entrance. You look at her for a second when she gives you a reassuring smile. You give her a small smile before you start to slowly sink down on her.

Wanda moves her hand back behind her head as she watches you sink down. “Fuck your right Natty. So fucking tight. Fuck even after you fucked her she is tight.” You blush at her words, finally sitting fully in her lap. You didn’t think you could feel this full. Both of them fit you so perfectly like they were made just for you.

You grind your hips experimentally, the movement causing you and Wanda to moan. You can see the cocky smirk on her face as she waits for you to fuck yourself on her cock. “Fuck I can feel both of your cums leaking all over my cock.” She bucks her hips up, enticing you to move. You groan, taking her hint as you lift yourself up before slamming yourself down. You set a slow and steady pace as you figure out your moments. Bringing yourself up before dropping back down. Wanda enjoys the sight of your breast bouncing every time you sink back down.

But your pace is a bit slow for the woman. “Ride me like you mean it detka. I want to see you fuck yourself on my cock.” You whimper, nodding your head and picking up the pace. Bouncing on her cock and grinding your hips when you meet her pelvis. The sight in front of her is perfect as the perfect omega rides her. Even at this angle Wanda can see a perfect outline of her cock filling your tight hole. Moaning knowing that you're so full of her and that she is going to fill you even more.

Whimpers and moans fill the room as you continue to fuck yourself on her cock. Soon you feel hands on your waist as Nat moves closer to you two she helps guid you quicker on fucking her mate. Wanda’s hands moving to your plush thighs digging her fingers into the soft flesh. Starting to buck her hips up to meet you. Fucking you harder than Nat did.

“Such a whore for us already. Taking our fat cocks in your tight little hole. Look at that.” Wanda presses her hand down hard on the bulge that appears on your lower abdomen. You cry out from the pleasure and her words, looking down to see her cock moving inside of you. Your walls clench her tightly at the sights. “Oh fuck you like that don’t you little whore. Love being fucked by your alpha’s.” Wanda’s moans, her words a stark contrast to Nat’s praises. She is rougher with her thrusts. Showing a different side to each woman.

Nat turns your head towards her and kisses you hungrily. Wanda sits up planting her feet and thrusting up hard and rough. You love the difference between the two. A gentle Nat and a rougher Wanda. It turns you on immensely more slick coating Wanda’s cock the harder she drives her hips up into you. Nat still helping you fuck yourself down on her cock.

“Such a perfect cock drunk whore for us. So pretty being our little cum dump, just for us to use.” With every word that Wanda speaks it sends you closer to the edge, your walls clamping down on her. You don’t know how she can keep her rough pace as your walls suffocate her cock. She moans as your walls tighten, her knot forming and pressing against your entrance begging to slip in. Wanda nibbles at your perky nipples. “Want to be bred full of our cum? Fill you with our pups?” You moan into Nat’s mouth mumbling a yes.

“These tits would look so perfect, full of milk, your belly swollen with our pups.” She bites down on your nipple causing you to break the kiss from nat and cry out. “Mmm.” You whimper, her thrust becoming erratic as your knot fully forms. Nat lets your waist go and Wanda wraps her arms around you thrusting up harder and faster. You didn’t think she could go any harder or faster but it has you moaning louder. Your arms tightly wrapped around her as your nails dig into her back causing her to moan at the sting.

Wanda moves her head to the other side of your neck biting into your other scent gland as her knot slips inside locking you two together. You scream out and throw your head back as your vision blurs, cumming harder than you ever have before. Wanda’s cum joins Nat’s deep inside you filling the void and feeding the desires of your inner omega. Your whole body trembles in her hold as your bond forms. She pulls away, licking your wound. She lets you take the side opposite of Nat’s mark cementing your bond to both women. Small spurts of cum still fill you as Wanda grinds helping you both to ride out your highs.

When you come down your rigid body slumps into Wanda nuzzling into her neck. Her arms wrapped around you tightly, kissing the side of your head. Her fingers gently rubbing at your back. Your arms loosely wrapped around her exhaustion taking over as you close your eyes.

“Are you ok sweet girl?” Wanda questions kissing your head again. You hum in response, throat raw from your previous actions. “I wasn’t too rough was I?” You could hear the concern in her voice. So you pull back a soft smile playing on your lips. “No, it was perfect. Both of you.” Your voice is hoarse. You look back at Nat who pecks your lips. You would think that Nat would be jealous of how your body reacted to Wanda but all you can see is the love in her eyes. The stark contrast between the two is something you already love. How gentle Nat praising you as she fucked into you and how Wanda was rougher degrading you.

When Wanda’s knot deflates they both help you up on wobbly legs taking you to a warm bath and cleaning you up. Your heat subsiding for the moment, a relief you thought you would never have. You’re all now cuddled up in your nest, your head on Nat’s chest, Wanda’s arms wrapped around your waist. Your eyes droop shut as exhaustion from the day's events gets to you. If someone had told you that you would end up being the omega mate to two Avengers you would have laughed in their face but right now wrapped up with them is all you could have ever wished for. The love of two powerful and amazing alphas and they are all yours. “I love you two.” You mumble so close to sleep. Both women were smiling. “We love you too.” Wanda kisses your shoulder and Nat kisses your head. “Our omega.”

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scudslut · 3 months

Text

ahhh yes yes, I haven’t written him too subby on here yet so I was super excited to write this❤️ I hope you like it @darylsgirl23 <3

Heartsease

Daryl x f!reader

Setting: Bridge Camp/Post Savior War

Wordcount: 2.6k

Warnings: 18+, softdom reader, unestablished relationship (but both know there’s a little somethin somethin iykwim), aka your his and everyone knows it, oral (m - receiving), unprotected piv, premature finish

Daryl was never one to keep still.

It made him anxious to be in one place for too long, always going on runs and patrols ensuring his people were as safe and provided for as they could be. He felt at ease outside the walls, out of people's prying gazes, and left alone to do his part for the community in peace. These days though, he was a flurry of activity. Hardly ever in the same spot long enough to see the sun rise and set again.

You knew he felt guilty - that he was angry and didn't know how to release it. You'd watch him work on the bridge for hours, frustration seeping out of his bones and into the atmosphere around him. It hung off him like a phantom.

The vast majority of the community was intimidated by it. They would walk on eggshells in his presence as if they could predict an oncoming outburst. But you knew better, you knew him.

He was angry at the world, yes. But he was distraught with himself... his own mind. It ran a mile a minute and gave absolutely zero reprieve. Anyone could see that if they dug just a bit deeper, looked at him a little closer.

Sure he was strong and burly; a true beast of a man, but he was also quiet and thoughtful. He cared so deeply about others that it frightened him to his core. All he wanted was to protect his family and do right by them.

And you saw all of that.

You had for years now and it only made your desire for him stronger. You wanted to thank him. Drop down to your knees and worship every freckle and scar that made him, him. He deserved it, deserved an escape.

Initially, you thought maybe he wasn't into that and preferred to keep his relationships asexual, to which you were perfectly happy to abide by. Any time spent with him was cherished time in your eyes. But during a sleep-deprived chat with Carol one night on patrol, long ago, you had found out he did have a few sexual encounters before the apocalypse. Just none that had truly meant much to him, or that he was entirely sober for.

That small bit of insight helped you understand the man so much more and you carefully dropped your hints from that point on. However, with your luck, every time you thought something might happen between you two, the moment would slip right through your aching fingers, dusted away by whatever imminent danger lurked behind each corner.

To be quite honest, you were getting fed up with the world's continuous cruel jokes, and from the looks of things, Daryl could use a healthy distraction right about now.

Ears perking at the familiar rumble you'd grown to love, you watched as he pulled up on his trusty, beaten-up Nighthawk, finally returning from a longer visit at Hilltop. You could see the sheen layer of sweat built up above his furrowed brows, his teeth nibbling away at his lower lip - an anxious habit you had picked up on mere days after meeting him.

His mind was bothering him. That much was clear.

He shuffled quickly to his tent, gaze transfixed on the muddy shoes he wore, avoiding any onlookers who wanted to ask their silly questions, throwing the flaps open, and disappearing in a fluster.

You knew better than to bother him now, give him some time to gather his thoughts and decompress. You whittled away at your spears, biding the time as you devised a plan on how you would approach him. After all, the last thing you wanted was to scare him off or embarrass him in any way. He was reserved when it came to these situations, unsure of himself. The few times you had brushed lips or touched him a bit heatedly, he was jumpy and almost insecure, as if he needed instructions on how he should behave. It was extremely endearing to you; like a stray pup who just needed a little reassurance and affection to calm his fierce walls of doubt.

It was almost dusk when you finished with your spears, gathering them up and placing them near some of the other weapons the community used when needed. You scanned the grounds, noticing everyone collected by the fire, dishing up for a late dinner. You quickly made your way over, grabbing two portions and slipping away before you were noticed and stopped for conversation. You knew Daryl wouldn't get one for himself, spew some excuse that 'he wasn't hungry' or was 'too tired' when really, he just didn't want to take away from another. Even if that meant he didn't eat or drink anything for days at a time. It made your heart blister for more reasons than one.

You balance both plates on your left arm, reaching to pull the flaps open slowly, not wanting to startle him with your arrival, "Dar? You asleep?" you whisper into the dim den.

You hear a grunt, some shuffling, and in a moment a soft glow fills the area as he lights a nearby lamp, perching up on his small cot, "I was."

Flicking off your boots, you zip the entrance closed behind you, "I brought you some dinner, figured you'd be hungry after your trip," You smile and he mutters a quiet thanks, opting to accept your kind offer rather than argue with you, he knew you wouldn't take no for answer anyway. He scoots to the side, creating a spot for you to sit while you two eat in comfortable silence. He liked that you didn't feel the need to fill the air, that you could simply enjoy each other's company without all the small talk. You were one of the few people he'd met in his life, who just inherently understood him, down to the most basic level. He hated leaving you all the time like he had been, just another thing to nag at his over-exhausted mind.

Hearing him sigh quietly, you cast your eyes over, watching as he scrapes up the remaining crumbs off his plate, placing it outside the tent along with yours for you both to deal with in the morning.

"I imagine your pretty tired, huh?" You ask, following his movements as he plops down again beside you.

"Nah, not really. Got a few hours 'fore ya came bustin' in here," he grumbles with a small smirk and you lean into him nudging his shoulder playfully. "Why ya wanna chat or somethin'?"

You consider him for a minute, trying to find the proper words to initiate what was truly on your mind. You knew you had no reason to be nervous. That even though you'd never labeled anything between you guys, you both felt it. Knew it was there. You just needed the right moment. Now was as good a time as any, you figured.

"No, I just- I wanna try something."

He nods his head for you to continue, so you scoot closer, placing your hand delicately on his shoulder and bringing your face centimeters from his. You stop just before you close the gap, gauging his reaction. His breath hitches slightly and you feel his pulse rapid under your fingertips, but he doesn't pull away. Taking that as the only confirmation you'll get, you press your lips to his softly, brushing your thumb against his stubbly, pink cheek. He takes a good minute to respond, carefully moving his lips back against yours and placing his hands on your hips. You feel him squeeze, eliciting a quiet moan of encouragement from you and he all but sinks into your touch, falling into a comfortable rhythm with your lips. You stay like that for a while, breathing in his piney scent and relishing in his gentle kneads at your waist. It wasn’t much to the untrained eye, but you knew that was his way of pouring his affection into you without so many words. His way of telling you he was yours.

You drag your kisses down his neck, nibbling and sucking at the salty flesh between his collarbones. His breaths grow uneven and you can feel him begin to tense again, unused to such personal attention, "Is this okay?" You ask, not wanting to push him past his boundaries. He only nods in response, his throat feeling like the Sahara.

He has to admit, he's thought about this many times, relieved himself to thoughts of you too many times to count over the years. He's just never known how to approach you about it, scared you'd reject him or he'd do something wrong.

He watches as you slip to your knees before him, your eyes glued to his. "You'll let me know if you want me to stop, yeah?" As he tries to nod in response again, you stop him, "I need you to say it to me," You press.

"Y-yea, I'll say somethin'," he whispers timidly and you grin, beginning to unbuckle his belt and slip his raged jeans down. You kiss down his strong thighs, feeling them tremble slightly beneath you. His hard-on is poking through his boxers and you drag your lips across it, placing soft pecks down the length of him, listening to his breathy pants. You didn't realize how turned on you'd be, having him all flushed and needy for you, but god were you enjoying it. Slipping your fingers into the waistband, you tug them down and his cock springs free, precum leaking from the pretty, pink tip.

"You dun have'ta," he mutters, anxiety sweeping over him fast, even though he really, really does want to. You catch his gaze, noticing how dark his stormy eyes have gotten.

"Let me take care of you, sweetheart," you reply, pressing soft kisses from the base to tip, feeling him pulse under your touch. You enclose your mouth around him, taking almost his entire length at once and you hear a guttural groan from above you, his knuckles white from the clutch they had on the bedsheets.

You wondered if he had ever had a woman go down on him before. Judging by the gasps and twitches he was emitting, if he had, it hadn't been for a very long time.

He bucks into you, searching in a daze for more friction, and you pin his hips down, earning a deep whine from him. You knew if he wanted to, he could easily overpower you, use your mouth to his heart's content, but he wouldn't. He wanted you to take charge. Needed it.

Raking your eyes over his heaving figure, you slide your tongue along his shaft, moving in slow, sensual circles as you bob up and down. Daryl's head is tossed back, eyes screwed shut and you can tell he won't last much longer. The sensitivity of not being touched in so long, sprinting towards him at full speed. You pull back, slowing your movements. He lifts his head off the wall, pale blue eyes blown to darkness as he watches you take him so sweetly, "Please," He whispers.

When you shake your head, humming a soft, "Not yet," as best you can around him, his eyes roll back into his skull, entirely overwhelmed by the overstimulation, but loving it nonetheless. "I-I can't," He gasps, his accent muddled even stronger in his lustful state. You have to squeeze your legs tighter, clenching around nothing hearing your man so utterly wrecked beneath you. You want to draw it out for hours. Have him begging you to let him cum down your awaiting throat. However, you decide you both have waited damn long enough to prolong your union even more.

Releasing him with a soft kiss to his leaking tip, you stand in front of him, shimmying out of your clothes as quickly as you can. "Lay down for me, baby,' You direct, moving the straddle him as he eagerly follows your orders, turning lengthwise on the makeshift bed. His eyes never leave yours as you sit down on him, groaning when he feels how wet you are pressed against his cock. "Have you thought about this before, pretty boy?" His cheeks flush crimson at your sultry compliments, nodding curtly whilst avoiding your stare.

"Dar." You press.

You were being so gentle yet stern with him it was making it brain fuzzy, all stressors from the day long washed away to be replaced by only you.

"Have, yeah," He huffs in embarrassment, trying with great difficulty not to portray how truly turned on your words were making him. But you saw right through him... or rather felt him. You lean forward, kissing and nipping up his neck to the shell of his pink ears, "Do you want me to stop?"

A full-body shiver jolts through him when he feels your warm breath against his ear, involuntarily rolling his hips into yours and you chuckle at his obvious sensitivity. He knows he needs to use his words. You won't be letting him off that easy. "Please don't," Is all he manages and it seems to do the trick. You grip his length, tracing it along your soaked folds, and slowly sink down. Your careful as you take in his reaction, scanning his expression for any signs of discomfort. He bites his lip, his eyes squeezed shut and lets out a muffled groan.

"Fuck," He mumbles, and you're surprised to hear him say anything you didn't need to pry out of him. A positive sign, you determined and start to bounce your hips slowly, creating a synchronized dance between your bodies. Your body is buzzing as you ride him, finally feeling the dull ache you’ve had for the man below you begin to dissipate as he whimpers oh so softly for only you to hear. His hands grip your waist hard enough to leave bruises to find in the morning, but you hardly give it a second thought. All you can think about is Daryl. His closeness, his warmth and strength, and-

He tenses beneath you, broken gasps leaving his chewed lips and suddenly he’s lifting you off of him, soaking your thighs and abdomen completely. You gawk as you watch him come down, sworn you haven’t ever seen something so fucking sexy in your life. His head tossed back, jumbled curses leaving his mouth, and dark auburn hair dripping with sweat. You don’t care that he finished before you, this was about him. But you see his eyes snap to yours when he fully comes back down to reality, cheeks blazing for a different reason than before.

Leaning towards him, you capture his lips with your own, tenderly pouring your affection into him, needing him to know you weren’t upset, “It’s okay, relax,” you whisper against him with a soft smile, leaning your forehead onto his. His eyes are filled with guilt, “I mean it, Dar,” And he’s back to his nods of response.

He didn’t need any more words of sympathy. He knew you were happy as a kid on Christmas, he just needed to accept it for himself. So with one last peck to his cherry lips, you slide off him, grab a rag to clean yourself up with, and scoot right in beside him, craving his warmth. He turns to you quickly, grabbing your waist and pulling you impossibly closer to him, burying his head into the crook of your neck. You feel a few soft pecks from him along your jaw and you sigh contentedly, wrapping your limbs around his, reeling in your post-coital glow.

You were safe, snuggled with your love, and that was all you needed.

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #norman reedus #norman reedus smut #twd drabbles #daryl dixon smut #daryl x reader #fem!reader #sub!daryl #subdom #dom fem reader #smut

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bluejeanstrash · 10 months

Text

11/10

a/n: i got this idea from an nsfw prompt generator so if anyone else has already done this, that could be why ✌️

tags: fwb! seungcheol, overstimulation, semi-dacryphilia, forced orgasms

w/c: 2.3k

in hindsight, telling the most competitive guy you know that you may or may not be faking your orgasms with him was probably not the best idea.

it was just 4 hours ago when jun had suggested a game of truth or drink. and it was just 3 hours 45 minutes ago when he had asked you ‘have you ever faked an orgasm?’

‘yeah?’ you’d answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world. and because whatever was in that alcohol was making you loose-lipped, you had continued.

‘in fact-’ a pause ‘-and i’m not proud of this, but i’m really good at it. the guy could never tell’

there was an immediate murmur of we can tell around the table but you interrupted.

‘trust me, you can’t. those guys still think they’ve given me the best sex of my life but they were horrible. i faked it so i could get done with it and go home’ you took a sip of your drink despite answering.

‘so, anyway, yes i’ve faked it. many times’ you had concluded, looking directly at seungcheol when you said that. you didn’t mean to look at him, he was just there in your line of sight.

he also had this funny expression on his face, somewhere between amused and offended.

were you trying to tell him something?

seungcheol and you were in a (secret) friends with benefits thing. you didn’t really call it that but that’s what it was. it had happened as a result of another game of truth or drink around 3 months ago, and thankfully, every orgasm with him in those 3 months had been very much legit.

so, when you’d seen him outside the bathroom later you’d clarified.

‘you know i wasn’t talking about you, right?’ you reassured.

‘of course you weren’t’ he answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

it had annoyed you. no man should be that confident.

‘oh? confident much?’

he’d leaned in, a little too close for being in public, and said ‘i may not know a lot of things...but i know how to make a woman cum’

and as his thumb softly grazed your lips, he’d stated ‘i know how to make you cum’

‘do you?’ you retorted, moving back ‘or have i been faking it and you just think you’re doing a good job?’

you don’t know why but you kind of wanted to piss him off. i mean sure, you were sleeping with him, but seungcheol was your friend before a fuck and it was always fun messing with him.

‘what are you trying to do?’ he’d asked, an eyebrow raised in mild annoyance.

is this a challenge?

‘i’m not trying to do anything’ big. fat. lies. ‘i’m just saying you’d never know’

sounds like a challenge to him.

(12:40 am)

‘please, no more!’ you move under his arms, writhing desperately.

‘answer the question’ he holds you in place, his grip tightening around you.

‘how many was that?’

‘f-fou-r’

‘did you fake that one?’ he asks softly.

‘no, i didn’t! i fucking swear!’

‘hmmn’ you feel a trail of gentle kisses travel up your neck ‘but you said i would never know, remember?’

seungcheol’s voice sounds sweet. so very sweet. but you know that tone—it's pure condescension masquerading as sweetness.

right now, you’re sitting on the floor, back pressed to seungcheol’s chest, locked in his heavy arms.

after jun’s, he’d offered to drive you home, which had recently become code for ‘let’s go fuck’. and before you could even kiss him at your apartment, he’d grabbed your vibrator.

he’d made you sit in front of the floor length mirror, nestled in between his legs, with a towel laid out underneath as he played with you. were you getting pampered today? maybe.

it sure felt like it after the first orgasm, and the second. but when he’d moved on to your third before you were even done with the last, you realised what this was. a lesson. a lesson for running your mouth.

‘another one then, just to be sure’ he hums, before pressing the vibrator back against your clothed cunt.

40 minutes in and seungcheol hadn’t even bothered to take your panties off. there was something quite erotic about seeing that damp patch on your underwear spread as he made you cum over and over. proof, he called it. and by now you were soaked, the silky fabric clinging to your puffy lips.

you squirm at his words, fingers digging into his skin at the overstimulation. he doesn’t even flinch.

‘look what you’re making me do to you’ he clicks his tongue like it’s a pity. like he doesn’t fucking love it.

‘you know i want to let you go, right? but we just have to be sure so there’s no confusion about this in the future’

subtext: if you ever fucking insinuate that i can’t make you cum, i’ll make you cum until you’re begging me to stop.

you try and wriggle again, but there’s no point—you’re completely at his mercy.

‘tsk, don’t move around so much. you should rest now. you’ll need the energy’ he cooes.

you can only whine helplessly at his words as you feel your brain and body consumed by a familiar high. and so you cum again, moaning his name as you do.

‘how many?’ he asks while you’re still coming down from it.

‘f-five’

‘did you fake that one?’

you tell him you didn’t. you promise.

‘are you sure about that?’

‘i’m sure! seungcheol please’

‘hmmn’ for a second there he actually contemplates letting you go but your cocky little words ring in his ear.

‘i’m not’ sadistic fuck. and once again you feel the relentless vibration as you jerk forward, your legs clamping shut. immediately, seungcheol drags you back, his lips gathered in a pout of displeasure as he drapes one heavy leg over yours to spread you open.

‘where are you going? hmmn?’ he presses the head against your throbbing clit, not letting up for even a second as he forces another orgasm out of you. your sixth.

drained. that’s how you feel after you cum, your body falling limp against his. ‘seungcheol, i’m done’ you whine feebly, hoping to garner a little sympathy.

‘no, no’ he shushes you ‘we’re not close to being done here. i haven’t even seen your pretty pussy yet. how can we be done?’

he leans forward, two fingers grabbing the fabric of your wet panties to pull them aside. ‘how pretty’ he smiles, gaze fixated on your slick cunt, and a split second later you hear the hum of the vibrator again. the second it touches your exposed cunt, a sharp gasp escapes your lips.

‘f-fuck’ you curse, feeling that knot in your stomach just a few minutes later.

‘coming already?’ he taunts as you end up giving him another.

‘that makes seven’ he counts it for you like he’s helping you out. you’re not sure how far he wants to push you today, but you do know you need to make it easier for you somehow.

‘please…can’t anymore…the vibrator’ you manage to string together in between quick gasps. the intensity of it against your swollen clit is too much. you need relief—something soft, something warm, something gentle—like seungcheol’s fingers.

after what seems like forever, the buzzing stops. ‘thank you’ you whimper and are met with a wry chuckle, his body shaking behind you.

‘you shouldn’t thank me yet’ he whispers. one of his big hands wraps around your throat giving it a light squeeze before sliding down your body to your cunt, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

‘so wet for someone who’s faking it’ he mutters to himself, thick fingers sliding in between your wet folds as he scoops up your arousal, pushing it back inside you. his finger slips in so easily that he adds a second. as he fucks you, fingers moving in and out, a vulgar squelching noise fills the room.

‘so fucking wet’ the softness of his voice now layered with something heavier. you can tell feeling you with his bare hands must’ve really turned him on. or at least that’s what his hard on pressing into your back is saying.

as you watch his fingers disappear inside you and come out all slick and shiny, your body somehow starts to crave another orgasm.

he knows it too. the way your walls begin to squeeze around him as he curls his fingers up, two stimulating your g-spot, while his thumb rubs your clit, all working up an incredibly hard orgasm.

‘go on…let me see you cum for me’ his voice is all you needed to hear, because a second later you come, for the eight time, gushing all over his fingers.

‘look at yourself’ he commands.

you do, looking lazily at your reflection through tired eyes.

‘look’ he grabs your face, forcing you to look.

‘what’s that dripping out of you?’

your eyes drop to the towel that has a very telling wet patch on it. getting overstimulated with the vibrator always made you a little messy but not like this; never like this.

‘answer me’

‘cum’ and so much of it. the way it’s stained the towel, the way it’s spread all over your inner thighs, and the way it’s still dripping out of you is such a pretty sight for seungcheol.

but you’re exhausted. it was so intense and there’s no way you can do it again.

‘seungcheol…i don’t have any left in me’ he can’t help but smile at your silly little statement.

‘no?’ he plays along, pulling you closer. his one hand grabs your breast, softly caressing it, before taking your nipple in between his fingers. his other, slides down to your swollen clit to rub in slow circles. and finally, his soft lips kiss down your neck, peppering little pecks along the way before stopping at that spot that only he knows exists. and as he stimulates all three so slowly and sensually, you feel your body start to betray you.

‘when did you turn into such a little liar, hmm?’ he asks, feeling your body start to tense up like it always did before release. he knows this feeling, he’s felt this over and over for the past three months—you can’t fool him. and as you bite back your moans, it takes over, and you cum again. number nine. seungcheol smiles to himself, and doesn’t stop.

he keeps going despite you just having given him one. it’s sore and sensitive but the way his lips have latched on to that spot on your neck it’s impossible not to surrender.

in a consistent rhythm he builds your high back up - neck. breasts. clit. you look at yourself in the reflection and god, it’s so erotic. the way he’s holding you—tight and completely under his control, his arms flexing as he masturbates you—makes you dizzy.

you want to curse and scream as you cum but you’re too overstimulated to formulate a single thought. only eager little moans spill out of your mouth.

‘go on, i know you want to’ he coaxes as you do, thrashing and tugging at the fabric of his pants.

‘i thought you had no more left in you?’ he teases as you come down from your tenth.

maybe it was a lie before but now you really don’t. isn’t 10 enough? he has to be satisfied with that. there’s a few seconds of silence when you think he might be. he lulls you into a false sense of security as your eyes fall shut, and then the sick sound of the vibrator fills the room again. no.

‘what do i need to do?’ your eyes sting with regret as you feel it touch your extremely sensitive clit.

you know what you need to do. you just don’t want to do it.

he pushes it harder, toying with you. fine.

‘i’m sorry, okay?’ a desperate apology finally spills out.

‘i take it back! you would know if you made me cum’ you whine. he says nothing, simply increasing the intensity.

‘i’m sorry’ your voice breaks as two perfect tears roll down your cheeks. until now, seungcheol had only ever pushed you to tears from the denial of pleasure, never from too much of it. he finds it incredibly arousing.

‘you’re so fucking cute when you’re desperate’ he says, looking at your pathetic reflection in the mirror. you look so pretty with those wet eyes and a dripping wet pussy that he suddenly feels forgiving.

‘cum for me again and i’ll let you go’ he kisses your neck. a wet little kiss.

‘i can’t’ you cry, tears flowing free now. ‘i can’t’

‘you can’ and you will for him.

‘you’re going to give me one more’ he says like you have no choice in the matter and presses the vibrator harder against you as you grab onto his arms.

‘shhh, don’t cry. be a good girl now and cum for me again. then i’ll believe you’ he cooes.

‘show me…show me how you can’t fake it with me’

as your start to spasm, your body shaking under him, you let out a moan, half of pleasure, half of exhaustion. you grip him harder, nails leaving red scratches all over his pale skin as the orgasm takes over.

he watches, fascinated at how you’re still giving him body shaking, toe curling orgasms after this many; at how your body moves at his command. he’s satisfied.

finally, you hear the buzzing stop as he puts the vibrator away. he wraps both arms around you, holding you in a tight embrace, his lips brushing against your ear.

‘how many was that?’

‘eleven’ you admit, not believing the number coming out of your mouth.

he smiles. god, it feels really fucking good to have been proved right 11 times. his eyes drop to the mess you’ve made—on the towel, on his hands, between your own legs and he feels extremely smug.

‘so, did you learn your lesson?’ he asks sweetly, placing a single kiss on your shoulder.

‘yes! i did. i promise!’

did you? well, if this is your punishment you may just have to piss him off again.

#scoups smut #seungcheol smut #seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #seungcheol imagine #scoups imagine #scoups oneshot #seungcheol x you #seungcheol fanfic #seungcheol drabble #scoups drabble #seungcheol oneshot #scoups fanfic

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thepixelelf · 1 month

Text

warnings: coarse language. wc: 793

[the amnesia card always declines]

If there's one thing Joshua Hong has above all else, it's the audacity.

If there's two things, it's the audacity and the most grabbable, stupidly defined, makes-you-wanna-bite-into-them man tits you've ever seen in your godforsaken, miserable life.

Well, okay, maybe that counts as three things. Whatever.

"Oh my fucking god," you hiss, ducking closer to the coffee shop/bakery's table and hiding your entire head with both arms. "What is he doing here?!"

Soonyoung, the least subtle person you know (but you've given up on fixing him at this point) turns 180 degrees in his chair to watch the loser posing for a "totally casual" photoshoot outside. He hums in understanding, putting his hand under his chin like an experienced detective. "He must've seen your instagram story."

"He doesn't even follow me..."

"Oh, he's following you, alright." Soonyoung turns back around and stabs his fork into his strawberries 'n' cream croffle.

You glare at him over the pastries on the table. "Very funny."

"I know I am," he says with a dumb smile that says your sarcasm was not effective! "When are you going to stop holding your stupid grudge?"

An offended scoff escapes you. "It is a completely reasonable grudge, for your information."

"What, you being mad at him for...kissing you at that party?"

"For smooshing that stupid pretty face on mine at that party then acting like it never happened!" You slap your hands on the table, but as soon as you spot Joshua outside start to turn his head, you duck back into hiding.

Soonyoung points his fork at you. "He was drunk."

"So was I," you argue with a sneer. "But I remember everything-- especially you being the reason we had to cut the night short because you started drunk-crying and I had to take you home."

Suddenly capable of shame, Soonyoung scoots forward in his chair and leans over the table. "Have I mentioned that I love you and you're the best friend in the world?"

"Whatever, buddy." You roll your eyes. "Just remember all the shit I've done for you when I'm the one crying in the club."

"Crying in the club?" echoes Joshua--

Joshua?!

Your soul escapes your body entirely and jolts back in a nano-second. "Holy fuck--" You put a hand over your racing heart and send a death glare to the smug offender. "You scared the shit out of me!"

Joshua just smiles that stupidly pretty smile and, damn it, you're supposed to be ignoring this jackass.

"Sorry," he says, but he doesn't sound sorry at all. "Are you free?"

Making a face, you look over at Soonyoung, who just shrugs, then back at Joshua. "...Right now?"

"Right now is good." He nods in thought. "Or later today. Or tomorrow. If not, then the day after that. You've been avoiding me."

You force your shoulders to relax and avert your eyes. "No I haven't."

Joshua's expression suddenly goes solemn, which you notice because, shit, you started looking at him again. "Did I do something?"

At that, you scoff, crossing your arms and shaking your head in disbelief.

"Seriously. That party... I don't remember much, except that I've barely seen you since."

"Don't play the amnesia card on me, Josh. It's so tired."

His brows furrow, and your stupid fingers want to massage the hurt look right off his forehead. As if the dumbass deserves it.

"It's not amnesia," Joshua says. "But it's fuzzy. I can't tell what really happened that night or what was just my dream."

"Really? We're talking dreams now?"

He shrugs, crossing his arms, which fold just underneath those stupid, huge pecs... "I happen to dream about you a lot."

"Mmhm... Sure..." Are they bigger than the croffles? The melon buns? The... "Wait-- what?"

Joshua smiles, and you just know he caught you staring, the little shit. "I said, I dream about you a lot. Kiss scenes included."

Your jaw drops, maybe to the floor, but you can't be bothered to check. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Soonyoung make a perfect circle with his mouth before he hurriedly asks the barista if they serve popcorn.

"Joshua Hong, you..." Standing from your chair, you fist the collar of his fleece sweater in both hands, primed to throttle. "...are so fucking stupid."

Then somehow, even though you're the one who pulls him in, he's the one who takes your breath away.

When your lips part, though, you open your eyes while his stay closed, and he leans in again.

"Wait," you say, halting him with the one word. "How did you find me here?"

Wincing, Joshua peeks just one eye open. "Please don't be mad at him."

You whip around, but the bell over the shop's door is already tinging, and Soonyoung is dashing across the street like his life depends on it.

Good, because it does.

"Kwon Soonyoung! You are so fucking dead!"

#caratlibrary #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #joshua hong scenarios #joshua hong x reader #joshua hong imagines #hong jisoo scenarios #hong jisoo imagines #hong jisoo x reader #svt scenarios #svt imagines #svt x reader #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #.100 #.200 #.300 #.400

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runnning-outof-time · 2 months

Text

Change His Ways | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: no

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: In which Tommy falls for a woman out of his reach and does whatever it takes to get closer to her.

Warnings: Tommy’s certainly not canon here, language, smoking, religious themes (Tommy goes to church)

Word Count: 4025

A/N: I dusted this WIP off because I was itching to keep writing after I finished my celebration blurbs. The idea has Tommy ooc, but it was one that I just had to write down while reading a book - I’ll share a bit more about it down below for those who are interested (it’s based on a true story). Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in stories similar to this one!

Tommy's world stopped the second he saw her. She was in Polly's main room, gathering her cleaning supplies as he stepped into the home. He watched from the doorway as she tried, but failed, to take them all into her arms, the bucket and broom falling to the ground. "I'm so sorry, Ms. Gray," she quickly apologized to the woman standing next to the fireplace for the commotion, crouching down to - try and - gather it once more. Polly didn't say anything, only watching on as the younger woman struggled.

"Let me help you, miss," Tommy spoke up, balancing the cigarette he was smoking between his lips before he stepped over to her, leaning down to grab the stick of the broom before she could.

"Oh, thank you, mister," she smiled over at him, her (y/e/c) eyes instantly mesmerizing Tommy. He almost forgot what he was doing.

"Where do these need to go?" he asked after clearing his throat and pulling himself from his thoughts.

"Just outside. My father's picking me up," she responded, smiling over at him gratefully. He felt like she had knocked the wind out of him.

"Alright then," he nodded, standing in time with her and taking a bucket from her full hands so that she'd have less to carry. He then let her lead him out to where an older looking farm-typed truck was waiting. The man sitting in the driver's seat just glared at Tommy, who ignored his presence altogether. "Should be it," he remarked as he sat the broom and bucket into the back of the truck.

"Thank you, really," the woman smiled at him.

"You're welcome," Tommy nodded politely before she got in the truck and he walked back up the path to his aunt's house. Polly was standing in the entryway with her arms crossed when Tommy re-entered the house. "What, Pol?" he questioned, brushing past her into the main room.

"She's a good woman, Thomas," she heeded a warning. A warning that Tommy disregarded completely.

Tommy showed up at Polly's every day for a week until he figured out what times the unnamed, beautiful woman was present at the house. And each time she was, he would help her with the things that she needed to carry out to her father's truck.

He didn't quite get to his destination today because the very person he was looking forward to seeing was walking along the sidewalk about three blocks from his aunt's house. He slowed down his car with his brow furrowed, and bent his head down to look at her. "All ok?" he asked after he watched her take a few more struggled steps. "Your father coming to pick you up?"

"Not today," she shook her head, the tone of her voice showing how much she was struggling to keep everything in her arms. "He's been held up at the farm."

Tommy was out of his car the second he heard her answer. He walked around the side of it with a quickened pace before he took the bigger cleaning supplies from her arms. "I can take you home," he offered, already opening the back door of his car before she gave him an answer to set the supplies he'd taken inside.

"Oh I can't bother you like that," she tried to decline his offer politely, but Tommy didn't want to hear it.

"I insist," he stressed, his eyebrows raised slightly to show his seriousness. He held his eyes on her and saw her weary expression form into a smile. She nodded her head in agreement before he opened the passenger's side door for her to get into the car. Once she was in, he shut the door and walked back around to the driver's side.

"Do you have a name, sir?" she asked him almost immediately after he'd sat in the front seat, "because I feel like I should know the name of the man that has so kindly offered me a ride."

"It's Thomas Shelby," he said, clearing his throat before adding: "you can call me Tommy though."

The woman smiled at him. “It’s nice to meet you, officially, Tommy. Thank you for driving me home," she spoke politely. “My name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N)," she added, her cheeks heating up slightly when she realized that she hadn't formally introduced herself to him.

"It's nice to officially meet you as well, (Y/N)," he couldn't help but smile as he tried her name out for himself, "and there's no need to thank me...the pleasure's all mine here," he concluded his sentence by turning his car back on and pulling away from the sidewalk so that he could take her home.

There was an older man leaning up against the side of a rusted farm truck as Tommy pulled into the driveway that (Y/N) said was hers. He looked rather intimidating standing there, and if Tommy wasn't in the line of work that he was, he definitely would have been put off by him.

"Hi, daddy," (Y/N) smiled as she got out of the car so that she could grab her supplies from the back. She was too slow, however, because Tommy already had it in his hands.

"Where do you want this?" he asked her.

"Just by the shed over there," she answered as she motioned to said shed, "I can place them where they need to go later." Tommy nodded and then walked the short distance so that he could rest the supplies against the wall of the shed. "Thank you, Tommy," she sent him a bright smile once he'd finished.

"You're welcome," he nodded, deciding that being paid in her smiles would be better than any lump sum of money he could ever receive.

"You Thomas Shelby?" (Y/N)'s father then came into the situation, his voice making Tommy's expression go serious as he turned to face the older man.

"I am," he nodded, extending his hand.

"What are your intentions with my daughter?" her father got right to the point, glancing at the hand but not shaking it.

Tommy found himself feeling like a young boy again, and it made him wonder just how interested he was in (Y/N) for him to be feeling like this. "I brought her home. She was struggling with carrying the supplies," he explained himself.

The older man looked Tommy up and down before nodding slightly. "Ok," was all he said before he turned and started to walk over to one of the barns on the property.

"Thank you, Tommy," (Y/N) sent him another smile, pulling him out of the confused stupor that was brought on by the previous conversation. "I hope you make it home safely."

"You're welcome, (Y/N)," he responded, loving how her name sounded coming from his mouth. He then returned her wave before he walked to his car and got into it, backing down the driveway and away from the beautiful woman who was standing and watching him leave.

"I think you're a bloody idiot for coming up with that idea," Polly spoke her mind after Tommy had finished explaining to her where he'd gone a few days ago.

"That's why I'm doing it properly," Tommy tried to work a different angle.

"Properly or not, the (Y/L/N)'s are a God-fearing family, and I can't remember the last time you stepped into a church with the intent of speaking to the Maker," she remarked, quirking an eyebrow in his direction. Tommy sighed in response, shaking his head as he brought the cigarette back up to his mouth. He and Polly then stared at each other for a few moments before the woman sighed and hung her head, "but you'll still give it a try anyway," she stated in defeat, knowing just by his glance alone that her nephew's mind was made up.

Tommy cleared his throat as he stood from the chair in Polly's living room. He grabbed his coat and pulled it over his shoulders so that he was ready to leave the house. Polly tried to call after him, but he wasn't listening to her words as he opened the door and exited the dwelling. After getting in the car and starting its engine, he began driving to (Y/N)'s house with the full intention of winning her father over.

"You cannot court my daughter," (Y/N)'s father spoke firmly from where he sat across from Tommy in the front room.

"She's a very lovely woman, and I will be a gentleman to her," he tried to sway the older man, laying on the Shelby charm in full force, "all I am asking is for a date with her." If only his family could hear him now.

"If you want to see my daughter, you'll see her at church," her father decided, nodding his head once to show his decision was final.

"Mr. (Y/L/N)..."

"Save it, Shelby," the older man cut Tommy off, standing to leave the conversation. Tommy watched him walk, knowing there was nothing more that could be done. He also stood, showing himself out. He looked to the farmhouse after opening the door to his car and saw (Y/N) standing in one of the second floor windows. A sigh escaped his lips. He knew what to do.

Tommy met the (Y/L/N)'s at their church that Sunday. No one bothered to question how he knew where they worshiped, and he was thankful that he didn't need to explain.

They all sat in the same pew, Tommy to the right of (Y/N), of course, while her father sat on her left. He didn't listen much to the sermons, or participate in singing along with the choir.

He did, however, try to get even closer to (Y/N). After a few glances down, he slowly inched his hand closer to her lap. At first he attempted to take hold of her hand. She moved it away the second she felt his fingers brush hers. But she didn't look his way though, still focused on what the preacher was saying. So he let his hand stay there. Instead of holding hers, he flipped his palm down and draped his fingers over the curve of her thigh.

His hand had just started to warm from her body heat when he felt a sharp, but silent, smack land on the back of it. It made him remove his hand and quickly look her way. She was still looking straight ahead. Tommy kept his eyes on her, his brows furrowed. He was sure that he hadn't imagined that; she'd just smacked him.

The feeling of his eyes on her made (Y/N) glance to her right. She knew he wouldn't look away until he addressed her. But her father would instantly know that her attention had been taken off of the message being told. Ever-so-slowly, she leaned closer to Tommy, getting close enough so that he could hear her whisper. "There should be no touching in the Lord's house. It's considered blasphemy."

Tommy couldn't respond because she sat straight again the second she finished speaking. He took one last look at her before looking straight again, his hand resting on his thigh once again.

Tommy continued going to church with (Y/N) and her family every Sunday, and eventually they got into a routine of him walking her back home.

Every Sunday, they'd stop at the beginning of her dirt driveway, and she'd thank him with a kiss on his cheek. They'd then say their goodbyes and she'd begin walking to her house. Tommy would stay and watch, waiting until she was on her porch before he left.

This Sunday was different. (Y/N) was unusually quiet on the way home. The walk that was normally filled with her sweet laughter and entertaining stories was now overruled by silence.

They stopped at the end of her driveway, and (Y/N) turned so that she could face him. Tommy's eyes were immediately on her, and he noticed that she was looking at the ground. "I won't be in church next Sunday," she finally spoke, playing with her fingers in hopes it'd give her something to focus on. She glanced up at him through her eyelashes then, seeing that he was looking out at the fields for a moment. Thinking now'd be the best time to say goodbye, she lifted her head and leaned in to press her lips to his cheek.

Tommy turned to talk to her at that same moment, and he was met with the most rewarding accident he'd ever been given in his life when his lips met hers. The kiss was soft, quick, and innocent. Too quick for his liking.

(Y/N) pulled back with a gasp the second she realized what was happening. She looked at him then, her eyes now opened wide; looking as if she'd just seen a ghost, or a horrible crime be committed. I've fucked this up, Tommy thought to himself, the breath caught in his throat. The worst part about it was that he didn't quite know what to say that could make the situation better.

So he just stared at (Y/N), watching as her eyes searched his for what seemed like eternity. Then, after what felt like forever, (Y/N) leaned in and pressed her lips to his again. She kissed him more soundly this time, and he took hold of her waist to make sure that she wouldn't leave him too soon. When she eventually moved to pull back, he let her, keeping his eyes closed when she stayed close and rested her forehead against his.

"Why?" he asked once their breathing had returned to normal.

"Huh?" she was clearly confused by his sudden question, and she finally pulled back to look at him once more, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Why won't you be there, love?" he asked with a soft laugh, squeezing her waist softly as he remembered that he was still holding onto her.

Realization struck her and her confusion melted into a sheepish smile, remembering what they were talking about before the kiss happened. "My family and I are traveling to see my grandparents. We'll go to the service at their church since we'll be staying through the weekend," she explained the reason behind her initial statement.

"Should I find you there?" he asked her then, wondering if he could still make things work. He'd been seeing her every Sunday for a month and a half now, and he'd be lying if he said that he didn't look forward to it every week.

"There's no need for that, Tommy," she giggled, her stomach filling with butterflies at the sweetness of his voice. "I'll be home before you know it."

"Then I'll be waiting," he nodded, showing his sincerity as he squeezed her waist once more, his actions making her smile. His eyes flitted down to her lips then, their closeness and inviting nature becoming paramount in his mind again. "Can I?" he asked permission before doing anything, something he never could have imagined himself doing weeks ago.

"Please do," she smiled at him, her hands finding his collar as he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers once more.

"Fuck," Tommy huffed, pressing his fingers to his eyes in frustration.

"So what do we do, Tom?" Arthur asked his brother, clasping his peaked cap in his hands. "He's there. He's for the taking. We could just..."

"No," Tommy cut him off abruptly, leaning forward so that he could rest his elbows on the desk and put his head in his hands, "no, there'll be problems if we do that."

"Then what?" John chimed in, a bit of an incredulous look present on his face. "We know he did it. He shouldn't get to even think he got away with it."

"We do it another way," Tommy insisted.

"What way?" Arthur asked.

"I don't know yet," Tommy huffed, finally looking at his brothers before he continued, "but you fuckers better not try anything." He accented his direction by pointing at each of the two men as he spoke, his eyes wide to convey his seriousness.

Silence fell in the room then. John and Arthur shared a look before focusing back on their brother. They were both thinking the same thing...but who was going to be the one to say it?

Arthur looked to John again. "Seems like our brother's gotten himself a new perspective," he commented aloud, seeing Tommy's eyes snap to him from the corner of his.

A grin formed on John's face as he heard his older brother speak. Arthur was the one to cast the first stone. Now the floor was wide open. "I think it's because he's been going to that bloody church each weekend," he shared his thoughts on the situation.

Arthur shook his head. "Nah. The only reason he's going there is so he can give that girl a quick shag. You think it'll be worth it, Tom?"

Tommy was now seeing red. "What the fuck are you two going on about? Eh?!"

"That girl from Pol's place. (Y/N), was it?" John answered, even though the previous question was meant to be rhetorical.

"Yeah, yeah. That's her name. She's real pretty," Arthur commented, a smug grin now present.

Tommy couldn't take the comments anymore. He slammed his hand down on the desk, commanding their attention immediately. "Enough!" he bellowed, his eyes wide with anger. "You're not going to talk about her like that. In fact, you're not going fucking to talk about her at all. Understood?" He let out a heavy breath then, looking between the two of them before he swiped at his hair, returning the strands that had fallen over his forehead back to their resting place.

Neither John nor Arthur responded verbally to their brother's statement. Arthur let out a grunt of agreement and John merely nodded, both surprised by the show of emotion they'd just witnessed.

Tommy nodded in response to the silence. "Good. Now go out and figure out how we can get this guy. We need to do it cleanly," he gave them an order, one that made the two of them nod before turning and heading to the door.

John exited without another word, but Arthur stopped with his hand on the door's handle. He looked back to his brother, who had both of his palms placed flat on the desk as he finished recollecting himself.

"She really means something to you, doesn't she?" he broke the silence hanging in the room. His question made Tommy look up. They held eye contact for a few moments. Not a word was said. Arthur got his answer though; he could see it in Tommy's eyes. So instead of prolonging the staring contest, he nodded and exited the office.

Tommy let out a huff as the door shut, closing his eyes and tipping his head back against the chair. (Y/N) came to mind then, and he relished in the thought of her as it made his stresses wash away.

Tommy just happened to be sitting out on the floor of the betting shop when the most out of place looking person entered the building. He clocked the man speaking to Scudboat and continued working on the papers in front of him as he tried to listen into the conversation.

"Is Mr. Shelby in?"

"He's busy. You'll need an appointment. That can be arranged with his..."

"I just need to speak to him for a moment."

"You'll need to arrange an..."

"He's fine to speak with me, Scudboat," Tommy cut into the conversation, coming over to where he and (Y/N)'s father were standing by the door.

"Yes, Mr. Shelby," Scudboat bowed his head as he left the conversation, knowing he was no longer needed.

"What can I do for you, Mr. (Y/L/N)?" Tommy asked (Y/N)'s father then, his eyes trained on the man who still looked so out of place.

"I'm not here to spend any money," the older man quickly replied, a rather sour look present on his face.

"I never thought you were," Tommy responded, hoping that his level voice would ease the other man's inhibitions. "Has something happened to (Y/N)?" he asked then, his brows furrowing as a feeling of worry washed over him.

Mr. (Y/L/N) looked around the room for a moment before his eyes found Tommy's again. "Can we speak somewhere more private?" he requested, the inflection of his voice not giving Tommy any concrete answer to his question. He hated that.

"We can," the gangster nodded, then moving towards one of the private offices - a little too quickly for his liking. "Has something happened to (Y/N)?" he asked again once the two men were behind the closed door.

(Y/N)'s father sucked in a breath and let it out slowly, shaking his head every so slightly before he began speaking, "I know what you do...and I know that it's not right, nor good..." he started, his eyes darting around the room so he wouldn't have to hold Tommy's stare. "But I've seen you with my daughter, how you've tried to open up and let God into your life..." he paused again, taking another deep breath. Tommy wished he'd say what he needed to already. "She sees something in you that I can not, Mr. Shelby, and I hope that you see something in her that goes beyond physical desire."

"Way beyond, Mr. (Y/L/N)," Tommy was quick to tell him, "she's...she's changed me in ways I'd not thought possible."

"Good," the older man nodded, looking pleased with the response he'd gotten. Silence hung in the air then, and both men stared at each other. It was almost like one was waiting for the other to crack; for the other shoe to fall. Mr. (Y/L/N) was the one to speak first. "You have my blessing. You can court my daughter."

Tommy exhaled the breath he didn't know he was holding upon hearing the other man's statement. He immediately extended his hand. "Thank you, Mr. (Y/L/N)."

"Treat her well, Thomas," her father sternly said, accepting the handshake Tommy had offered.

"I will."

Tommy and (Y/N) arrived at the road to (Y/N)'s home, and (Y/N) turned to face him like she always did. She smiled at him, sweetly thanking him for walking her home from church. Tommy smiled at her, tipping his hat and making her giggle - like he usually did. (Y/N) then leaned in and pressed her lips to his, giving him the quick kiss that she'd always leave him with. This time, however, Tommy's hands found her waist and he held her close to him when she pulled away.

"Be mine," he whispered against her lips, pulling back slightly so that his eyes could find hers.

"Tommy," (Y/N) breathed in response to his statement, "my father..."

"He gave me his blessing," he assured her, "will you be mine, (Y/N)?" he asked this time.

A smile spread across (Y/N)'s lips as butterflies erupted in her stomach. This is what she'd been waiting for. Everyone had told her that Tommy Shelby was a man who was to be feared, but that was not the Tommy Shelby that she had the pleasure to know; to get close to. And now he was asking her the question she'd hoped he'd ask ever since the first kiss they shared.

"Yes, Tommy," she answered with a slight nod, excitement bubbling up inside of her, "yes, I'll be yours."

Her words made a smile form on Tommy's face, and instead of saying anything in response, he leaned in and kissed her, showing her how happy he was to hear her answer through the passion he put into the kiss. She was the only person who'd get him to change his ways...and now she was his.

**a little bit about the background: this was based off of a vignette that I read in a book about America in WWI — a man, who was rather rowdy, into no good things, took interest in a woman, and the woman’s father told him that the only way he’d get to court her is if he came to church. The man essentially changed his lifestyle around for her because he was so interested in her and they eventually got married — so just like Tommy, he got the girl.

———

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife

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feyascorner · 4 months

Text

as the snow falls

summary. years after becoming the vampire ascendant and harnessing the endless power he’s always wanted, the loneliness of his throne brings him to reminisce about the only person who’d ever cracked the surface of his frozen heart.

so why not visit them disguised as someone else?

warnings. angst, little to no comfort, bittersweet, this is kinda long

pairing. astarion x GN!reader

a/n. happy holidays everyone! I thought about making a fluffier fic but what’s better than holiday angst!! this takes place years after the game where Tav/reader breaks up with astarion once he becomes ascendant btw!

He hated fresh snow. At this time of year, he left the palace more often, leaving deep footprints that ruin its perfect evenness. He preferred when it was stained with blood, but then again, he preferred anything over untouched snow.

So when he sits up from his bed, which is far too big for one person, he sighs irritably at the snow falling softly on the other side of the window. His voice awakens the woman beside him, who rubs at her eyes, her other fingers grazing at the two identical puncture wounds at her neck.

To be quite honest, he'd forgotten she was there. He only notices her when she revels at what he's staring at, letting out a shrilling gasp. “My Lord, it’s snowing! How beautiful.”

Judging from the way she oh so comfortably addresses him, he figures she’s one of the newer servants in the palace. Any other half witted person would know to keep their head down and leave quietly, but not her. While it would bother him on any other occasion, he doesn't bother reprimanding her as his mind fails to supply him the words. He doesn't even know her name.

“Get out,” is all he says, voice an octave deeper than usual. There's a slight pause before she scrambles to climb out of the bed, finally having had some sense knocked into her. He only glances at her right as she shuts the door, eyes only noticing how her hair is the same shade as his late lover.

When he turns back to his window, he remembers how your hair had looked softer than hers. He remembers the way it had felt when he ran his fingers through your strands, and the way you'd smile in that enchanting way of yours. The way he'd let you run your own hands through white curls in return, immersed in a world where only the two of you existed in that cruddy tent while the very real problems of the outside world didn’t weigh as heavy as they usually did.

He pulls the curtains closed.

By the time he gets to his throne room, the palace is already wide awake. While Cazador’s operations had run themselves mainly during the night, Astarion was different. He could bathe in the sun all he wanted and would only come out glowing, and he'd abuse that to his full advantage. He was not afraid of the sun, because they were not the same.

They were not the same at all.

As he paces by the servants, they all hush down, quietly returning to their busy schedules as they prepare whatever housework they'd been assigned to. When he perches on his throne, he looks down at all of them, eyes narrowed at each of their movements. He’s not truly paying any of them any attention, except for the occasional ones who have the same shade of hair as the servant this morning. Those ones have puncture wounds on their necks.

Even if their blood tastes vile in comparison to yours, it’s the closest he can get.

Finally, something truly catches his attention. If he didn't have such keen ears, he wouldn't have heard the few in the corner, whispering.

“The heroes are celebrating the restoration of the city at Elfsong tavern tonight!” one says excitedly. “Do you think Master will go see them?”

“No, certainly not,” another responds. “He rarely meets them anymore, does he? Shame. I would love to see them in person before they leave. I heard a few of them won’t be coming back for a while.”

“Surely we could go ourselves?”

“Well,” one ponders. “If we hurry with all our assignments perhaps we can make it in time…”

Astarion snaps back into attention when a male servant approaches him, admittedly with a swallow of his throat. “My Lord.”

“What is it?” he snaps, thought it surprises even himself how harshly it came out. Not that he cares.

“T-the entire first floor has been scraped clean, my Lord. The second floor, twice,” he stammers, eyes looking anywhere but at Astarion’s face. While it first boosted his ego seeing others cower in fear, now it just irritates him. “Of course, we haven't touched the left wing, as you instructed, but there were some worries regarding the dust collecting in the main bedroom there, and-”

“The left wing will remain the way it is until I orderwise,” Astarion responds immediately, then pauses. “Tell the others to rid the yards of snow.”

The servant’s eyes go wide. “But my Lord, it’s still snowing…and there's already a few inches—to clean it would just result in the snow piling again-”

“I won't repeat myself, child.”

He is not like Cazador. Not at all.

As the servant stumbles away with a frantic nod, Astarion’s gaze drifts towards the windows again. He’d had them installed the second he took possession of the palace, refusing to keep its walls in darkness any longer. He'd torn off the curtains, wallpaper, decorations, and replaced them all with new ones—ones that were more to his liking. It was an entirely new Palace, and yet…

The only place he'd left untouched was the left wing. He knew the servant’s words came from reason. The left wing was surely to rot away at this rate, being left unoccupied for so long. He hated the way it had no windows, the way the curtains were the same blood red shade Cazador had favored, and how the hallway was only dimly lit with a few candles.

He closes his eyes.

He remembers your voice so clearly, he might’ve mistaken you for standing right before him. “Once we kill Cazador, isn't this place yours?”

He had raised a brow. “Perhaps. Why do you ask?”

“Maybe you can make this place more pleasing to the eye, I don't like how dark it is now.”

“Really? I am curious as to what you would deem admirable interior design. Perhaps I’ll give you a portion of the palace to yourself, my dear.”

He snaps his eyes open.

He truly hated when it snowed.

He looks down at all his subjects once more. And this time, he found the isolation of the throne eating at a heart that he no longer had.

——

The snow doesn't stop, even as the sun sets.

And while he detests himself for doing so, he finds himself entering Elfsong tavern, where the night’s just begun. After hours of contemplation, convincing himself he had no reason to join the celebrations of common folk, he thinks of course you of all people would celebrate at a mere tavern over a lavish party with the rich. Of course you'd prefer to listen to a less than pathetic excuse for a bard than a musician with years of experience.

He curses that humble streak of yours as he steps into the building with a disguise spell. He’s still an elf, handsome but not as much as his ordinary self. His hair is a shade of chestnut brown, eyes in a different color than his usual as well. It’s enough to pass as a different person.

He doesn't have to look around long, because someone bumps into his shoulder, yelping an obnoxious ‘ow!’ before turning to him. And while Astarion contemplates a more violent outcome for daring to cross a vampire, he quickly stops when he sees a familiar wizard.

“Sorry about that. Have a lot on my hands right now,” Gale apologizes with that annoying smile of his before rushing back to his table with the two drinks in his hands. It’s crowded in the tavern, but none of it stops Astarion from spotting you in an instant.

Gods above.

That same shade of hair framing your laughing expression is all he can see. Gale sets the drinks in front of you and Shadowheart, and the vampire makes out your thanks from the way you mouth the words before taking a chug from it.

You’ve matured. Your hair is styled differently than he remembers from a few years ago. The way you carry yourself is different too. And you seem more comfortable under so many gazes—all of which he wishes it were only his.

You look happy.

A part of himself hates you for it.

But when he dwells on the feeling a moment too long, he realizes it’s more directed to himself. Because while you sit there with that beautiful smile on your face, surrounded by your companions and the admiration of the city, all he has is the cold grips of his throne, where all he seems to think about is blood, and more importantly, you.

Enough, he thinks. He's making a fool of himself. He's sure you'd rather not see him anyway, after the poor falling out the two of you had. And he's not sure what he'd do if you came too close to him, which is also something he'd rather not test.

But then, you stand up. You wave something at the others before pacing across the tavern toward the back door. Astarion doesn't even have to will his legs to move before they're halfway across the door, trailing after you.

When he finds you again, you're ankle deep in the fresh layer of snow behind the loud tavern, in the otherwise quiet city of the night. You're staring at the sky as a snowflake lands on your nose, and you make no moves to wipe it off, instead you breathe in, and then out, leaving Astarion to stare blankly from the shadows.

“You can come out, you know. I promise I don't bite,” you hum, and a lump grows in his throat. Still, he does.

“It’s cold,” he says.

“It is,” you smile, oblivious to who you're speaking to through the disguise. He simultaneously wants to reveal himself and hide in the shadows. “It’s nice though. I've always loved snow, and this might be my last chance to see it in Baldur’s Gate for a while.”

He stares at the way your breath steams against the freezing air. “Have plans of travel? Surely a hero like you would prefer to stay in a city of people in your debt.”

“Adventuring, probably,” you shrug, turning your gaze back down to the snow. “I’ve done what I can here. No reason for me to stay.”

The selfish part of him flares, though it seems to be most of him nowadays. Him. He should be the reason.

His brows furrow. “You won't be coming back?”

“Probably not for a while. This city holds a lot of memories, and not all of them are ones I'm rather fond of,” you sigh. “I just wish I could've helped more people, but I suppose life just doesn't work out the way you want it to.”

He raises a brow. “How ambitious. I would think saving an entire city is enough for at least a few lifetimes.”

“Well,” your voice drops. “There was one more person I really wanted to help. One that I lost.”

He remains quiet, eyes glued to the way you kick at the snow.

“I should have guided him better. Should have let him know that he was enough. Not because he was some all powerful being, but just because he was him. I thought—” your nose crinkles. “—I thought I'd been helping him, by encouraging him any way I could. But that tore us apart, and I'd do anything to go back and fix it.”

To be in that tent again, to hold you close again, to love you again.

“Sounds like a lucky man to receive such endearing words from you,” is all he manages.

You snort, laughing a bit. “I was the lucky one to have ever met him. I just wish our time together hadn't been so short.”

And as you hold out cupped hands to the sky, gathering the snow, Astarion feels his chest go impossibly tight when you finally meet his eyes. Gods, had he missed them. “I wish we could've seen the snow together. The first snow in the morning, when nothing’s touched it and it’s just a perfect even layer. I think he would have liked it.”

“I’m sure,” he says. “I’m sure he would've enjoyed watching the snow with you.”

You smile again, and he forces down the urge to pull you closer right then and there. To remind you that you can have all that, and more. He could give you everything, the world be damned. He could have you sit on his lap in the throne of his palace, and fill your head with hushed promises of love and praises, holding you tight to his side with one hand and wine in the other.

He could forget about how cold the throne feels.

Instead, he only watches you step out of the snow and pace towards the door leading back to the tavern. And as you open the door, you glance back at him. “Aren’t you coming in?”

“I ought to return home. I have quite the night ahead of me.”

You tilt your head. “Shame, I was hoping to buy you a drink for listening to a complete stranger for five minutes.”

Astarion offers a slight nod. “Perhaps next time, I’ll take you up on that offer.”

He hates the churning inside of him as he realizes this is your final farewell. This is the last time you’ll give him your full attention, and he detests the way all he wants to do is to convince you to stay. To realize he can offer so much more than the rest of the world. That he’d ruin the world for you.

But when your smile softens, he stops himself again. He curses the effect you have on him. “Next time, then.”

And then the door shuts closed.

He stares at it for a long time, waging an internal battle where he struggles to gather his composure relentlessly until he looks away and turns his attention back to the snow.

He breathes. Not because he has to—because he doesn't—but because it finally allows his shoulders to relax.

The air is cold in his throat.

Somehow, from here rather than the view from his bedroom, the snow doesn't look so bad.

#astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion #bg3 x reader #fluff #angst #bg3 #bg3 tav

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fcwoso · 5 months

Text

In the spotlight · Leah Williamson

Summary: you're attending an event with your girlfriend, hoping to be able to keep your relationship hidden but tipsy leah flips the whole script (chaotic/cute leah w/ special appearances of alessia and katie)

MASTERLIST

You had been officially dating Leah for a while now. The both of you decided to keep your relationship on the low, not wanting to draw any attention to yourselves. You realized Leah had to deal with enough already and didn’t want to add any more stress to her life. Leah didn’t see it that way, she felt like she had to protect you from the outside world, or more so, the media world. She knew how cruel they could be, and she could never do that to your precious heart. Most of her teammates knew about you two and had immediately welcomed you with open arms. They treated you like you were one of theirs and Leah was so grateful for that.

You were getting ready in your shared hotel room. The Arsenal team had an event tonight and the girls had begged you to come along with them. They repeatedly assured you no one would be bothering you. You had your doubts at first, afraid to put too much pressure on Leah. You didn’t want to send her any mixed signals of you wanting to make your relationship public. You’d love to, of course, just imagining you two going out not worrying about anyone taking pictures sounds incredible. But you were protecting each other, so this was the right thing to do.

Leah had entered the hotel room, her eyes lighting up as she saw you getting ready. A warm smile was plastered on her face, taking in the outfit you were wearing. She stepped closer, wrapped her arms around you from behind and placed a gentle kiss on your cheek, careful of her tinted lip gloss leaving any marks on your skin. ‘’You look amazing, love.’’ She said. You turned around and chuckled, growing shy under her gaze. ‘’Thank you, you’re not so bad yourself’’ Was what you replied. It was true, she looked great.

‘’The girls are so happy you’re here.’’ She grinned. You knew they were, you had received multiple messages from them saying how they’ve missed you. The nerves started to grow as time went by and Leah couldn’t help but notice your forced smile, the internal struggle was evident on your face. She tilted her head, grin disappearing as she realized she might’ve missed something. ‘’Are you sure you’re up for the event tonight?’’ She began and placed a hand your cheek. You leaned into her warm touch and let out a small sigh. ‘’If you’re not comfortable, we can stay in. It’s okay, you know.’’ The blonde tried to reassure you, concern visible in her features.

You appreciated her understanding but shook your head. ‘’No, I really want to be there. I’m just a bit stressed, but it's fine’’ Leah’s eyes softened, and held your gaze. ‘’You don’t have to worry about anything, you’ve got me. The girls will be making sure no one bothers us.’’ She replied and gave a smile, making her dimples appear. ‘’You’re right.’’ Leah had calmed your nerves down, but you still mentally prepared yourself for the worst to happen. ‘’We’re leaving in about 5 minutes.’’ She announced after taking a look on her watch.

As you quickly finished getting ready, there was this sense of anticipation in the air. You headed to the elevators, hand in hand, and shared a tight embrace before meeting the girls downstairs. There was a small distance between you two while you were greeting everyone, not quite sure if there were any camera’s around.

Once at the event, you found yourself relaxing. You catched up with some of Leah’s teammates and shared photos of whatever you’ve been doing in your free time. Leah had tried to get close to you, aware of the camera’s that were flashing every now and then. Beth and Viv were happy to cover you guys while your lover tried to hold your hand. It resulted in you two intertwining your pinkies. You noticed how she tried to make you feel comfortable throughout the night, including you in every conversation she was having. But then, suddenly, glasses of champagne were getting served. You quietly warned Leah to be careful and the only thing she replied was ‘’I’m a responsible adult, no need to worry.’’ But you did. You were worried because you knew it only took two glasses for her to get tipsy.

You were sat next to Alessia, both of you started to become a bit tired. Everyone was doing their own thing now, your girlfriend had left your sight about half an hour ago. Alex wanted to introduce her to some of the people that were attending the event. Leah repeatedly apologized before leaving you, squeezing your hand. ‘’Oh, shit.’’ Alessia mumbled, her blue eyes wide open. You were about to ask her what’s wrong, but you didn’t need to, a finger already pointing at the cause of her reaction.

‘’Babe!’’ You heard a certain blonde scream loudly, arms spread wide open. Your eyes met a happy, tipsy, Leah. Her hair looked messier than when you had left the hotel, and her lip gloss was basically gone at this point. You saw a few guests look your way. Alessia tried to hush her teammate but that resulted in her getting a little shove. ‘’What? I missed my girl.’’ Leah exclaimed, completely ignoring the warnings. ‘’Hey, Lee. There’s no need to scream.’’ You nervously said, becoming a bit uncomfortable because of the attention you were getting. Leah finally sat down and rested her head on your shoulder before nuzzling her face in your neck, leaving a small kiss. ‘’Have I already said how amazing you look tonight?’’ She mumbled, playing with one of the rings on your fingers.

You were a nervous wreck at this point, scared that tonight would be the night your secret would be discovered. ‘’Yes, honey. You did.’’ You answered, giving her a little nudge which made her lean even more into your body. Alessia couldn’t help but laugh at you two, calling over Katie to take care of the situation. And she did. Katie dragged Leah by the hand, leaving the seat next to you empty again. Your girlfriend groaned at the sudden movement, scolding the Irish player for tugging her so hard. To be fair, it was an amusing sight to see.

‘’I love you!’’ Leah basically shouted while pointing at you, leaving your sight for the second time tonight. She blew you a kiss before disappearing into the crowd, making you hide your face in your hands. ‘’She’s a mess.’’ Alessia sighed, making you nod in agreement. You felt her pat your back sympathetically, ‘’Don’t worry about anyone taking photos of you, we’ll let McCabe handle that.’’ You chuckled, knowing deep down that the Irish woman would manage to erase any evidence of your relationship.

#leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #woso community #woso x reader #woso #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson one shot

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inkbybambi · 4 months

Text

bar owner!john price kisses you under the mistletoe —

words: 4.9k rating: e warnings: fem!reader, praise kink/praises, fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, multiple orgasms, pet names, biting/marking, finger sucking, size kink, john steals your panties, please let me know if i missed anything. this has been edited to the best of my ability. notes: this is my contribution to @bunnyreaper's call of duty secret santa exchange and is dedicated to @a-very-bored-blogger ♡ my blog and all my works are 18+ so minors dni. proper warnings have been provided.

being the boss’s favorite has its perks.

you’re the first to try new spirits and brews he orders for the bar. he doesn’t bother trying to hide his snort of amusement each time your face scrunches up when something tastes particularly awful.

you try to hide your blush when he delicately takes the glass from your hand, fingers briefly touching, throwing back the rest of the drink without flinching.

smug bastard always winks after.

you’re the only one allowed to lounge in his office on your lunch, even when he’s not there. you ignored the pointed looks from the others when he first gave you the key. it dangles on a pink, heart-shaped carabiner. there’s a drawer of snacks and a mini-fridge that’s always stocked for you. a pile of your books are stacked on his desk with his other papers, most of them he gifted himself.

you never see the way his cheeks go pink every time you read one of the books he chose.

you’re the only one allowed to take the beanie off his head. sometimes he puts it there himself. soap tried it once and never again after his hand got thwacked with a wet dish rag.

your favorite perk?

the way he lingers when you’re the one closing, always nearby as you wipe down the counters and dry the glasses. the gentle press of his palm at the small of your back when he maneuvers around you; when he hands you something you’ve asked for and his eyes glitter when you say thank you; the soft touch at the nape of your neck when you’re finally done and tucking the rag away, gently guiding you to the door.

sometimes he walks you home. sometimes he drives you. you’ve begun to look forward to it now.

lately — more often than not — you find yourself hiked up on the counter, john standing between your legs, radiating heat like a furnace, his big hands cupping your face as his tongue slides deep into your mouth, tasting you and swallowing your soft whines.

he always tastes like cigars, which you complained about at first, but now you couldn’t care about when his fingers thread though your hair, tipping your head to the side so he can slide his mouth along the line of your throat, beard scratching your skin.

he’s careful to not leave any marks. but each time his teeth skim the column of your throat, he presses sharper, harder.

you want him to bite you.

everyone assumes you two are fucking anyway.

he said he’d walk you home.

twenty minutes ago.

he pulls away, leaving you breathless, pressing his nose against your cheek. you close your eyes and lean into him, lightly scratching at the base of his skull.

“should get you home,” he rumbles low in his chest, voice like gravel. it makes you ache.

you can’t say much apart from a small hum of agreement, not wanting to leave the warmth of his body.

he doesn’t make any effort to pull away either.

his lips drag from your cheek to your jaw, nipping at the hinge before soothing it with his tongue. you shudder on an inhale, waiting for what’s next.

“let me get your bag,” he murmurs, voice still soft as if he doesn’t want to shatter the calm that’s settled over you two, like a veil of gossamer protecting you from the outside world.

with one last, slow kiss, he leaves to gather your bags, slipping his beanie on your head and walking you out.

he clicks the lights off.

no matter how many times or how often you find yourself wrapped in winter’s cold embrace of snow and icy wind, you hate it.

you like it from the inside. with a warm drink of whatever — sometimes spiked, if you’re feeling cheeky — and blessedly not outside.

this is your first christmas with the bar — with the boys — and john invited you to help decorate for the season.

this is your first time feeling like you belong somewhere. the boys have been together for years now, as you’ve learned over your time with them, but they took you in and made you feel welcome from the very start.

you, however, felt awkward the first couple shifts, as to be expected. one night, about a week settling into the job, you stood up to a particularly rowdy client — gaz and soap minding the bar with you, exchanging glances with each other and keeping an eye on the situation; simon and john lingering around the billiard tables with some regulars, also with an eagle eye on you. you didn’t back down to his crass attitude and sharp words, damn near throwing the lime you were cutting at his face. a tense moment or so passed before he submitted, mumbling an apology and throwing a twenty pound note on the bar along with the rest of his tab, slinking to a seat in the back.

closing the bar a few hours later, soap handed you a shot of something gross with a proud smirk on his face, gaz excitedly talking with you, relaying the moment with vigor, his eyes sparkling with amusement as if you were some sort of superhero. simon, far more subdued than the others and wearing his skull-painted balaclava, simply gives you a nod of approval as he raises a glass to you.

that was the first night john kissed you.

you’ve felt at home ever since.

snow flurries cling to your lashes as you trudge through layers of snow, scarf wrapped up around your nose and john’s beanie pulled down as much as possible.

you tried to return it last night before he left, but he insisted on you keeping it. you’re grateful for that now, stuffing your hands as deep into your pockets as possible, hating the way the wind bites so fiercely, it feels like you’re wearing nothing at all — bones and blood turning to ice.

ten excruciatingly cold minutes later, you stumble into the bar, shaking yourself off like a wet dog and stomping your boots to dislodge the snow clinging to the sole. some of it buried into the back of your boot while walking, and you try not to make a face when your socks feel damp.

“there she is!” comes soap’s cheerful call, standing behind the bar with a cardboard box in front of him.

you unravel yourself from the scarf and dust off the beanie from the last of the snow, wiggling your fingers as you make your way over so you can start feeling them again. john turns to look at you with a warm smile, and you flush under his attention. simon accepts a glass from gaz, tipping it towards him in thanks. gaz passes glasses to john and soap next, finally setting one down at the seat next to john — intended for you, as he gives you a knowing smirk, which you pointedly ignore with a roll of your eyes — and sipping from his own as he settles next to soap.

“what’s this?” you ask, taking a sip.

“that’s a gin and tonic, love,” gaz replies easily, and you give him an unamused look.

“i meant the box,” you clarify, as soap chuckles and uses a box cutter to open it, taking out a sheet of paper and reading over it with a soft smile on his lips.

“this,” he says, pulling a knit sweater from the box and checking the sticky note on the front, handing it to john, “is tradition.”

you take a healthy sip — gaz uses a heavy hand —and watch as he continues to pull the sweaters from the box, handing one to simon and then gaz. he takes another from the box, resting it in front of him.

“ma nana, bless her, makes us christmas jumpers,” he says with a fond smile. you watch as gaz eagerly strips his current sweater to put the new one on.

your heart aches, but the corner of your lips quirk up as you watch even simon pull his on.

he reaches into the box again, one last sweater being handed to you. “ah told her ‘bout you,” he begins as you take it from him, unraveling it and feeling the sting of tears line your eyes. “she says welcome to the family.”

you blink at him with teary eyes and he coos at you, leaning over the counter to squish your cheeks affectionately.

“go on then, hen,” he says as he releases you, nodding towards the jumper. you eagerly strip out of your jacket, taking the beanie off and settling it on the counter before pulling the sweater over your head.

it fits like a dream.

“don’t ask,” soap says with a wink, taking a sip and turning away so you wouldn’t even have the chance to ask.

you look over to john, blue eyes dark as he takes you in, something unreadable in his expression. his eyes flick to yours, gaze softening as he gives you one of his signature smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners so you know it’s real, reaching out to ruffle your hair before standing from his seat.

“right then,” he says, “let’s get to work.”

after the garland has been hung, mistletoe put over every possible doorway thanks to soap, fake poinsettias and other decorations spread all throughout the bar, you deem it to be ready for the holiday.

or as ready as it can be, but you’ll take what you can.

the boys turn one of the tvs on to watch the premier league game, lounging in their new, festive jumpers and drinks on the table. you take the moment to slip away to the back office where john is, having retreated there himself a half-hour earlier.

the door is slightly ajar, but you knock lightly before pushing it open a little more.

john sits at his desk, sweater pushed up his forearms and stretching across his broad chest. you swallow a pathetic whimper, turning to close the door. you didn’t lock it — fingers crossed the game keeps the boys occupied enough to not worry about you.

john watches you with those same dark eyes — arousal dampening your panties — as you make your way over to him. he pushes his chair back enough for you to climb into his lap, settling yourself comfortably over his thick thighs. your fingers card affectionately through his mutton chops, and he lets out a pleased hum, closing his eyes.

“i got you a gift,” you confess in a whisper, shy and uncertain.

his eyes flick open, clearly intrigued, but doesn’t prompt you any further. he rests his hands on your hips, dipping under the hem of the sweater to grasp your waist, thumbs rubbing affectionately over your skin, pulling you closer.

“did you now?” he asks, clearly amused, hands drifting higher. you let out an indignant squeak, swatting his chest.

“it’s not me!” you say, though the idea certainly isn’t a bad one.

“pity,” he muses, chuckling, before his hands come back to respectfully settle on your waist. “what is it, then?”

you chew the inside of your cheek, suddenly worrying that it’s too much, or that it’s not enough, or he won’t like it or —

“love?” he prompts you, as if he could sense the way you’re spiraling into your own mind.

you balance yourself up on your knees — which doesn’t help your claim that you’re not the gift — pulling out a slightly crumpled, white envelope from your back pocket. you press it against his chest, unable to meet his eyes. his hand — warm and broad and comforting — comes up to rest over yours for a moment before he takes the envelope, opening it with a raised eyebrow.

he looks over the tickets that rest inside, before he looks back to you, taken off guard.

“merry christmas,” you whisper, even though the holiday is weeks away. he surges up to kiss you, tickets pressed to your cheek as he licks into your mouth, a surprised noise rising in your throat.

resting your hands on his shoulders, you sink into the kiss, slipping deeper into his lap as his tongue presses against yours, the familiar warmth settling over you.

“how did you..?” he asks, breathless, moving to press kisses over your cheeks and jaw, and you giggle and push him away, his beard tickling your skin.

“i used this thing called money,” you tease, scratching at his beard as he rolls his eyes, “which my lovely boss gives me every two weeks.”

“cheeky,” he laughs, returning the tickets to the envelope and placing it on the desk. “you’ll go with me, yeah?”

not that he has to ask, but it’s still a sweet gesture.

two tickets to a newcastle game are tucked into the envelope, set for some time in the new year. you can’t think of a better way for it to begin.

you know john has a jersey— he wears it on game day. you always appreciate the way you’re able to unashamedly stare at his forearms, corded muscle working as he pours drinks and cleans the counter top. he’s unfairly attractive in it.

he grasps one of your wrists lightly, breaking you from your reverie, turning it enough to drag his lips across your palm.

you fall quiet as you watch him, kissing each of your fingertips, and then pressing your palm against his cheek, looking up at you with reverence, like you were something to worship, to spread out and show his devotion to you.

“you know soap put mistletoe above my door before you came in,” he murmurs and you raise an eyebrow.

“did he?”

he hums low in his throat, hands going underneath your jumper once more. you bite your lip as they graze up and down your sides, inching higher and higher.

“well i’m not one to break tradition,” you reply, leaning in close to press your lips against his.

you happily sit in his lap as you indulge in his kisses, languid and deep, so content you could almost purr.

“i have a gift for you too,” he says against your lips, biting at it lightly before kissing the corner of your mouth. you make an interested noise, not wanting to pull away from his mouth, from him. he chuckles as he gives in to kiss you once more, hands beginning to ruck up your jumper.

he rocks his hips up against yours, and you whine almost pathetically into his mouth, pawing at his shoulders.

“it’s not this,” he says, clearly amused, but pushes you away enough to bring your jumper up over your head, leaving you in one of your nicer, lacy bras — if you wore it specifically for him, you’ll never tell.

he’s kind enough to fold it over and place it on his desk before turning his attention back to you.

“god, look at you,” he marvels, leaning in to press his lips to your collar, down to the valley between your breasts.

you flush under his attention, one hand braced on the middle of your back, his other dragging the fabric of your bra down, laving his tongue over your nipple, biting it gently to a firm peak and sealing his lips over it.

“fuck,” you exhale shakily, gripping the nape of his neck, feeling the way he hardens under your touch, arousal slicking your panties, sticky and wet where you’re pressed against him.

he deftly unhooks your bra, dragging the straps down until it pools in your lap. he immediately moves to mouth over your other nipple, thumb brushing over the hardened nub that’s already shining with his spit.

he stands suddenly, bra falling forgotten to the floor as he settles you onto his desk, licking deeper into your mouth as you move to undo his belt, feeling almost frantic with the need to feel him.

“you’re so gorgeous, darling,” he says against your lips, his own hands unbuttoning your jeans. you manage to pull his belt loose, pushing his jeans and boxers down enough to feel the coarse hair at the base of his cock before he stops you.

“wait a second, love,” he’s gentle as he grasps your wrists. “wanna get yours off first,” he adds.

you pout — just a little — but acquiesce to his request, tilting your hips enough for him to pull your jeans and underwear down to your ankles.

“ah. fuck,” he sighs, exasperated, before he kneels down — a little awkwardly, with the state of his own bottoms — to unlace your boots to drop them to the floor, your panties and jeans following soon after.

“there,” he sighs as he grasps your face for a kiss, and you hum happily against his mouth, gripping him for stability.

“are you sure this isn’t my gift?” you ask, a teasing lilt to your voice, as he drags his mouth to your cheek and then to nip the lobe of your ear.

he laughs, and it goes right to your core, molten heat trickling down your spine, leaking from your pussy to the desk underneath.

“i promise,” he says, voice low, pressing a tantalizing kiss to the soft, sensitive skin behind your ear.

when you open your mouth to reply, he rests two fingers on your bottom lip, almost touching the tip of your tongue.

he’s asking permission, you realize, so you take his wrist to draw his fingers further into your mouth, closing your lips around his thick fingers, tongue slipping between them and sucking them deeper.

“that’s a good girl,” he praises, a deep honey drawl that makes you weak. you swallow back a whine. he presses his fingers down against your tongue, and you blink up at him through glassy doe eyes, still grasping his wrist lightly.

you whimper, when he’s too enchanted with the sight of his fingers deep in your mouth, arousal coating your thighs. glazed eyes turn to you, a hum of approval reverberating in his throat. he slowly withdraws them, your lips glossy with spit.

his fingers drift down to your cunt, already soaking with need, dragging them lazily through your folds to mix your own spit into the mix. he leans down to kiss you, and you rest your hand on his cheek to keep him close.

“so wet for me already, darling,” he marvels as he continues to gather your slick on his fingers, moving up to press gently against your clit, rubbing it in slow, soft circles. “think you can take both?” he glides his fingers over your entrance, feeling the way your walls flutter in anticipation.

you nod eagerly and he leans close to kiss you, licking into the heat of your mouth; at the same time, he sinks both fingers into you, far more gentle that you expected. the stretch catches you off guard, gasping against his lips. he pulls back, a hair’s breadth apart, merely breathing you in as your walls clench around him, trying to get used to the feeling of him filling you full.

“too much?” he murmurs.

“just,” with a shake of your head, you breathe in, moving to grip his neck, nails sinking into his skin. you want to leave your own marks on him. “been awhile,” you admit on the exhale, drawing him back in to kiss, relaxing into his touch while he happily gives into you.

your mouth drags from his, to the corner of his lips, over to his cheek, right where the line of his beard starts to tickle your skin. he's kind, and patient, and so, so good to you.

“good?” he asks when you rock your hips into his touch, but he doesn’t start moving his fingers until you actually say yes, pressing the word to his cheek like a promise.

he’s surprisingly delicate with his touch, as he is with everything else when it comes to you, but the filthy sound of your slick and spit fills the air along your quiet noises, choking down your whines and mewls.

soap would be insufferable if he found out about this.

“i know it feels good, love,” he says against your lips, his own curled into a smirk — cocky bastard — “you have to keep quiet for me though, yeah?”

but then his fingers curl and graze the spot inside you that leaves you trembling, head tipping back as your nails dig deeper into the nape of his neck. he continues to rock his fingers against that spot, deadly precision as he takes the opportunity to bite and suck marks onto the column of your throat, the sting of his teeth making you feel delirious with pleasure.

“fuck, john,” you whine as you draw him close enough to hide your face into the collar of his sweater, the scent of cigars and sex making your head spin, thoughts turning to static. “‘m gonna cum,” you pant against his collar, trying so desperately to keep yourself quiet.

it’s not going particularly well.

another few pumps of his fingers, your clit under his thumb, and white hot pleasure pools down your spine. you muffle your moan against him as your legs shake and cum spills over his fingers. he works you through it, soft praises whispered against the crown of your head.

you’re pliant in his arms, all the tension seeping from your body as he slowly withdraws his fingers. your grab for his wrist, eyes bleary and glossy, feeling the weight of his gaze as you draw his fingers into your mouth, licking your release from him.

“fuckin’ hell, love,” he grasps your face, tongue pressing into your mouth, “gonna be the death of me.”

he finally allows you to push his bottoms down enough to free his cock, hard and heavy against his stomach, pre-cum already dripping from the tip. you go to reach for him, eager to touch him just as he touched you, but he captures your wrist and moves to tip you back against the desk.

you grip the hem of his jumper, something of a pout gracing your lips as you blink up at him, desperate to feel his skin against yours. he takes his own off with far less grace than he did your own, but still has enough sense to try and fold it and place it over yours.

it is a gift, after all.

“better?” he asks, a chuckle rising as you immediately move to trace over the planes of his chest, nails scratching through the dark hair that litters his body. faint red marks are left in the wake of your touch, all the way down to his hips, a thatch of hair in a line leading down to his length.

“much,” is your reply as you drag him close to you, nose buried in his throat to smell cigar smoke and sandalwood, the comfort and musk making you keen, impatient for his touch, his kiss, his cock.

he braces one hand by your hip, caging you against him, and you tilt up enough to lace your legs around his waist, wanting to bury yourself into his veins, wanting to be as close as possible. he takes himself in his other hand, dragging it through your folds, teasing your sensitive clit.

you whine at him.

he gives you a soft kiss before moving to kiss your collar, watching as his cock sinks into you — just the tip. he keeps his hold on himself, dragging himself in and out, feeling the way your cunt tries so desperately to draw him deeper. the wet heat makes his breath stutter, tests his patience so he doesn’t sheath himself completely in one sharp thrust, wanting to do this — needing to do this — properly, even if you are fucking in his office instead of his bed.

“john,” you damn near sob against his temple, lacing one arm around his shoulders, unashamed with how desperate you are to feel all of him.

he accidentally slips from your heat, and guides himself back, notching the fat head at your entrance, already shiny with your desire. he pushes in slowly, and you gasp and grab at him, head tipping back as your eyes close, never having felt so full before.

“f-fuck,” you whine, having enough sense to bring your gaze back to watch as he sheathes himself completely inside you, your clit pressing against the dark hairs at the base of his dick.

“such a good girl for me.” his teeth latch on to the side of your neck, biting hard enough to leave a mark, keeping himself still until you mewl out a soft move, please.

he captures your mouth with his own when he starts thrusting in earnest, swallowing each moan and cry that rises from your throat, wishing the desk wouldn’t squeak so fucking loud, the schlick of his cock pumping in and out of your soaked pussy making it impossible to focus on anything else.

he lays you down against the desk, hooking your legs under his arms to press them up by your side, allowing him to push even deeper, his cockhead kissing your cervix with his thrusts, each a little more brutal than the last. your nails thread through his hair, the strands damp with his sweat, and you bring them down to his shoulders, his arms, digging in sharp to continue leaving your marks all over him.

“careful now, pet,” he taunts, right in your ear, a shiver going down your spine right to your pussy, clenching tighter around him in response. “only mark me if you’re gonna keep me.”

you’re breathless as you respond, the pleasure pooling in your gut and spreading throughout like liquid fire — unable to think of anything but him, and the way he touches you, and the way his teeth sink into your neck until you squeal with the sharp, biting pain that he soothes with his tongue.

“i will, i will,” you say, nails digging in deeper — a show of devotion, of loyalty. “i promise.”

“my darling girl.” the praise, the possession — it burns you from the inside out.

“please, please, please,” you beg, so close to the precipice of your second orgasm, pleasure like venom lining your blood.

“taking my cock so well, love, fuckin’ made for me.” his voice is low, almost a growl, your cum making a thick ring of cream wet the base of him. “you need to cum so badly, don’t you?”

past the point of being able to form words, you cry and nod, tears spilling down your cheeks, overwhelmed, hands moving down to hold him by his waist, too weak to do anything more than lay there and take anything john gives you.

“cum on my cock, darling, i want to feel it.” you’d never think he’d have such a filthy mouth, but it’s just enough to snap the coil of pleasure that’s been building. you arch up into him, his name on your lips, unable to hold back any longer as you shake with the force of it.

he buries himself to the hilt inside you, feeling the pulses of his cock as thick streams of his cum paint your insides, filling you full. he pants out a jesus christ, pressing his weight down on you, his spend starting to leak from where he’s still buried deep inside you.

you lay there, comforted by his weight and warmth, the scent of sex and sweat mixing with the ever-present smell of cigar smoke that’s practically embedded into john’s skin.

after a few minutes of laying there, john presses soft kisses to the column of your throat — over the marks, his marks, that litter your skin — he pulls out of you slowly. you whine at the loss of him, feeling so empty now without him inside you, burrowed close to your heart. his cum drips from your cunt, gathering on the table below.

“let me get you cleaned up,” he murmurs, pulling his own bottoms up and slipping back into his jumper, walking around the side of the desk — dropping a kiss to your temple — and leaves, coming back only moments later with a washcloth. he wipes you down so gently, a second one dragging over your skin in light strokes to dry you off.

he helps sit you up, gripping your waist and steadying you before gathering your panties and bottoms. he pauses for a moment, eyes flickering to yours before a smirk paints his lips, tucking your panties into his back pocket and helping you into your jeans. as he gathers something from one of his desk drawers, you wrangle yourself back into your own jumper.

“so,” he begins, settling back into his chair and patting his lap, which you crawl into eagerly, as your sense of stability and balance have yet to return, pressing yourself close, “close your eyes.”

you give him a look, though his face gives nothing away. you close your eyes, hearing what sounds like a hinge opening and the sharp snap of a case. his hands go around your throat next, but he doesn’t touch you. he’s quiet for a moment, but then settles his touch back to your waist.

“alright, darling, open up.”

you immediately bring your hand to your throat, feeling the delicate chain that’s now laying there. you gently bring it up, looking over the charm in your fingers, before your breath catches in your throat.

he smiles at you like you’re the sun, and you cup his cheeks, leaning in close to press multiple kisses to his mouth, sniffling a little while he coos at your reaction.

“you’re my favorite christmas present.”

soap is, indeed, insufferable about it when you finally emerge from the back office. he gives you a shit-eating grin, musing out loud that he should hang mistletoe off john’s belt next.

#ink by bambi #secret santa #john price x reader #john price x you #john price au #john price imagine #john price smut #modern warfare imagine #modern warfare smut #modern warfare au

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mj0702 · 4 months

Text

The other Bronze – Part 2

For my Bubs and @cyclingbigirl who demanded a part 2

Keira woke the next morning, you draped half over her body. Your right leg was across her lower half, your face was laying on her shoulders, your right arm was over her chest, gripping onto Keiras left sleeve. As carefully as she could, she fished her phone, making a selfie of you and her. She saw that she had 6 unread messages from Lucy, asking about her little sister and if everything was alright. The last message not even 15 Minutes old, so Keira decided to just respond with the picture. A minute later her phone vibrated again

Lucy: “Someone is cuddley”

Keira chuckled and texted back “Aren't all Bronzes cuddley around me?”

Lucy: “My Brother too, Keira?! Seriously? Don't you have any shame?”

Keira: “Maybe ;)”

Lucy: “Kinda disturbing, but whatever... she okay? You okay?”

Keira: “She misses you – a lot... just a fair warning.. she's not to keen on Ona, so keep their time spent together to a minimum in the beginning”

Lucy: “She doesn't even know Ona... what is her fucking Problem?”

Keira: “Language, Lucia... she doesn't really have a Problem. You know she always struggled with Change – she feels guilty for our breakup and just needs time to get used to you dating again”

Lucy: “I'm sorry... not only for the swearing – I think I didn't realized just how much it affected her... still affects her... thank you for watching out for her too, Kei... it really means the world to me”

Keira: “No need to thank me, Lucy... you know I love her just as much – so... brunch?”

Lucy: “You think you can get her up and presentable in an hour?”

Keira: “Oh please – I tell you the same as her yesterday... I'm not you – I'm not a push-over”

Lucy: “Oi!! I'm not a push-over”

Keira: “With her you always were... and still are”

Lucy: “One Hour starts now, Walsh... tick tock”

Keira laughed lightly, not even bother to respond, before she started to softly stroke over the younger Bronzes face.

“Wakey wakey” she whispered in your ear. Your nose scrunched up and you pressed your Face deeper into Keiras shoulder.

“Come on, Bitsy.. time for brunch” the older Woman said smiling, knowing that the promise of Food always gets the Bronze women going. Food and Caffeine. Your nose scrunched up again, but at least your head moves a little bit, looking sleepily at Keira.

“Breakfast?” you ask, your Voice thick with sleep.

“As soon as you up, showered and presentable” the older woman smiled.

“Noooo...” you whined sleepily, your head laying back on her shoulder.

“Yes” she said in the same tone as you “Your sister said you won't be presentable in an Hour... you really want to prove her right??”

Keira also knew, like the whole world does that the Bronze Family was highly competitive. You were up in a flash and a minute later Keira heard the Shower going. The older Woman laughed loudly, standing up herself, walking into the Kitchen starting on the Coffee.

15 Minutes later the youngest Bronze emerged from the Bathroom just covered in a Towel “Kei?? Clothes? Please?”

“I bet your Sister would be so happy to see you parading through town just covered by a short Towel ” Keira laughed “Here” she pushed a cup of Coffee in your Hands before walking back to her Bedroom looking for some Clothes.

She came back with a white T-shirt and some of her kit shorts “Up to wear my number for a change?” She smirked at you.

“Replacing the old Bronze with the newer, younger, sexier Model, are we?” you smirk back, but grab the offered shorts nonetheless.

45 Minutes later, Keira and y/n stood outside the little Place, Alexia mentioned the other day, waiting for the Rest of the Girls to arrive.

“Gosh she got so slow since she hit the 30” you rolled her eyes as your Sister obviously was late. Keira burst out laughing next to you.

“I don't think it has anything to do with her age...” she smirked, waiting for you to catch on. You look at her confused, until you realized what she implied, gagging loudly. The older woman laughing again loudly.

“You're her ex, you shouldn't talk about her having sex so easily... especially NOT with me” you gagged again.

“Who's having Sex?” a voice behind you asked, startling you.

“Speak of the Devil” you mumbled before turning around, your facial expression neutral “You're glowing... disgusting”

“Excuse me?” your Sister taken aback by your “greeting”

Keira just keeps on laughing, her hands on her sides, as she bends over trying to control herself. “You heard me, Arse Biscuits” you grumbled.

“Oi” your Sister said upset, taking a step towards you “watch your gob, wee shite”

Keira sensed that the two of you start to push each other so she interfered, knowing Ona – who arrived with your Sister – didn't know how to handle the two of you in situations like this.

“Both of you... take a step back” Keira said sharply. You and your Sister not reacting, staring at each other. You were so close to each other that your noses were nearly touching - Keira firmly said “Now!”

Lucy and you snapped out of it and you both took a step backwards. Keira looked at Ona, who stood there with a shocked Face “Don't worry... normal sibling behaviour between them – you just need to know when to intervene. And you need to be strict about it, because they're both hot headed and stubborn” she smiled.

“Okay” Ona said, her voice unsure, looking from Lucy to you and back.

“You'll get used to it” Keira chuckled and patted Onas back.

“You calm again?” Keira asked the two Bronze sisters

“Yes” both of them mumbled ashamed

“Good... then let's go inside, I need something to eat” Keira said, leading the Way.

Just as you all sat down, Mapí, Alexia, Ingrid, Patri and Pina joined the Group, all squishing themselves around the small table. Since the table was originally for four People and now there are nine, you got shoved around until you ended up getting placed on Lucys lap by Mapí, claiming she reserved the seat you were sitting on before you even arrived.

Lucy tried to shove you off her lap just for you to look at her with puppy eyes holding onto her shoulder “There no seats left”. Your Sister groaned, but laid her arm around your back

“The things I let you do” she rolled her eyes, but you could see a smile tugging at the corner of her Mouth.

“Love you too, Luce” you mumbled quietly

She squeezed your Side lovingly, before joining the Conversation at the Table, while you just looked around the small Place, taking in the Atmosphere – the Conversation was in Spanish anyway, so it was not like you could follow it.

“Cariño?” Alexia looked at you expectantly as you looked at her confused.

“Yes?”

“Did you hear what I said?” the Barca captain looked amused

“No?” you admitted ashamed.

Alexia laughed before repeating her question “I asked for how long you're staying”.

“Oh... Mum said I can stay until Lucy gets tired of me...” you shrugged your Shoulders

Your Sister grabbed her Phone grinning “Wait, let me get an Uber for you”

“KEIRAAAA!!!” you yelled down the Table “LUCY IS MEAN AGAIN!!!!”

“Lucy!!” Keira scolded your Sister.

Lucy looked at you “You little backstabbing...”

Before she was able to finish you grinned wickedly, shouting again “KEIRA!!! She's calling me bad names”

“LUCIA!” Keira warned and Lucy knew it's getting to a point were she was in serious trouble.

“I didn't do anything!!!!” she defended herself annoyed.

Alexia just starred at the two of you, as you wore a shit eating grin your Sister looking like a kicked puppy, Mapí high-fiving you over Ingrid.

“You two are really children, aren't you?” the Barca captain asked amused.

“She brings out the worst in me” you grinned, taking your Sisters head into a headlock “Noogie!!” you laughed.

Lucy hugged your stomach, standing up, lifting you in Process, swearing at you, while you locking your legs around her waist. You didn't let go of her Head, laughing loudly as Lucy began to spin herself to get rid of you.

Meanwhile, Keira rolled her Eyes then looked at Ona “Now you should interfere... otherwise they will take the whole place down rough housing”

Ona looked at her shocked “Me?”

Keira grinned “Yeah you... they're your Problem now... welcome to the Bronze Family”

Mapí started to cheer you on while Ingrid tried to keep her in her seat so she wouldn't jump on Lucy to help you win. Ona tried to get your and Lucys attention, but it was no use, since she was still to reserved about you. Lucy managed to get you to let go of her, now having you in a light headlock. “Dear bloody Christ” Keira swore under her breath, turning to Ona “Watch and learn”

The Englishwoman stood up, walked over to the wrestling pair of Sisters and just grabbed both of you by the Ear before dragging you outside. Both of you stumble after Keira begging her to let go, but in secret you knew better that your plea would fall on deaf ears. Keira lead you outside the small restaurant, coming to a scattered halt outside.

“Are you two actually completely bloody mad??” she scolded the Sisters

“Sorry” you mumble and looked to the ground embarrassed

“You're going to be sorry, y/n Bronze... Mapí won't be the only one doing laps today” Keira said angry before turning to Lucy “And you... don't encourage her behaviour... you're the older one – you should be the grown up”.

Lucy looked guilty and started do fiddle with her fingers “I know... but she started it”

“Did NOT” you immediately exclaimed.

“Quiet.. both of you” Keira said sternly “I don't care who started it... we're in public.. what if Fans take pictures or god forbid a Video... and just as a small information, Lucia... Your new Girlfriend is very taken aback of your behaviour right now... I mean I knew what I was getting into when we started dating. I knew the two of you beforehand and knew your Actions, but she doesn't... I know you genuinely love each other and it's your weird language of love rough housing around, throwing insults at each other, but Ona can't understand it.. so either both of you pull yourself together OR I'm going to make sure the two of you will only have supervised visits – supervised by me”.

Both of you looked very guilty, not knowing what to say.

“Are we clear?” Keira hissed out at your silence.

“Crystal” Lucy and you said simultaneously.

“Good” the other Woman nodded.

“Do I really need to run laps?” you asked carefully, shuffling your feet.

“Yes” Keira said strict “But don't worry, you'll be in good company... Mapí and your Sister will join you”

“I'm doing what?” Lucy looking at Keira confused.

“You really didn't think that I punish her and you'd walk, did you?” Keira raised an eyebrow.

“You can't make me do Laps” Lucy said.

“True.. I can't.. but Alexia can and I'm VERY certain that she's on my side this Time” Keira smirked wickedly, before rentering the small Restaurant.

You looked at your Sister “How fucked are we?”

“Very...” Lucy sighed out “When she really involves Ale, than we're very VERY fucked”

“We could bolt?” you suggested

“You can... I need to be at Training at 3pm... it's my Job” your Sister shrugged “I can say you just bolted, when I didn't look”

“Naah” you smiled “We survived angry Keira before... Tobronzher”

Your sister laughed “Still the most stupid word you ever came up with... it sounds nothing like together”

“You still understood” you shrugged your shoulders

“I should talk to Ona” Lucy said contemplative.

“I really didn't want to cause trouble Luce” you said apologetically

“I know... and you didn't really.. I should have talked to her beforehand... our bond is special and Keira was right... she doesn't know how the two of us work...” your Sister said encouraging. You just hummed.

“Why don't you like her?” Lucy asked softly.

“I don't know her...” you said reflecting “... so I don't know if I like her or not”.

“You didn't even gave her a Chance” your Sister said, but it wasn't accusing or angry – it was simply a fact.

“When Luce? When did I had a chance to get to know her? Yesterday when I walked in on you? Or yesterday evening, when we sat like... 15 Minutes at the same Table, where you choose to drift off to your own World with her, which is okay, really.... or today, where we sat like half an hour together and all of you started speaking Spanish – even you – and I starred at the Wall? You didn't really put up an effort to introduce us too, Luce... you called me Devils Spawn the first Time we met... probably freaked her out” you said, shrugging your Shoulders sadly.

Lucy realized that you were right “I'm sorry.. I'm sorry for not realizing how stupid I acted.... I'm going to make it up to you, I promise”

“I'm not the one you have to make up anything... I know you my whole life... I know you... but you should probably talk to her” you said.

“Dinner tonight... only the three of us?” your Sister asked hopefully.

“You... should talk to her first... if that's okay for her” you said carefully.

“I know I’m going to sound like an egotistical asshole in a second, but... you're my SISTER... you will always come first...” your Sister said and pulled you into a tight hug.

You hugged her back and mumbled into her shoulder “But she's your girlfriend...”

“She is... but your feelings will always be important to me... so if she says no, which she won't, I know she won't, than that's one thing... but if YOU say no... than that would really hurt” Lucy said, not letting go of you.

“I'm not saying no... but.. I need time?” you said carefully “I need time to process the whole situation...”

“That's okay... you want me to talk to Keira if you can stay at hers? Or maybe Alexia” your Sister offered.

“I'm not staying with the Scary Woman” you exclaimed shocked.

Lucy laughed out loudly “She's a big softie... she acts all scary when she's mad or on the pitch... but in private... mushball... oh... and she has a girlfriend, so you don't have to be scared she would take advantage of you... you will leave Barcelona still a virgin...”

“Oh please... THAT ship sunk long time ago” you mumbled and rolled your Eyes.

“EXCUSE ME??” your Sister screeched out surprised.

“Nothing” you answer quickly and try to push passed her.

Lucy grabbed your Arm, making you look at her “Who? When? Where? Why?”.

You knew it was no use in lying, so you answered reluctantly “Won't tell you... my Birthday... very classical in a bed... because it felt right?”.

Lucy pinched the bridge of her nose “Please tell me you were careful, used protection and you're definitely not pregnant”.

You looked at her with a shocked impression, before recovering “This... Person... wasn't... a dude?” you said carefully, not knowing how your Sister would react.

“A girl?” Lucy asked surprised. You nodded, but didn't meet her eye. “Hey” Lucy grabbed your chin gently and make you look at her “it's okay.. I mean... I'm gay... Publicly gay”

“I just... never told anyone” you mumbled ashamed.

“I feel honoured you told me, Bubs... did she... look after you?” your Sister asked carefully, knowing this wasn't really a Topic you should discuss in Public.

“Still is...” you admitted softly, started to play with the hem of Keiras shorts, a soft blush covering your cheeks.

“Good...” your Sister said, hugging you again before pulling back looking at you shocked “Oh my God... it wasn't Keira, was it??”

“What?” you looked at her confused

“Was it Keira?! The one who... you know”

“Oh my bloody God NO... god you're disgusting! NO!! That's wrong on SO many levels” you exclaim shocked.

“I KNOW it would be wrong... Just the way you said that the person was still taking care of you and you started to play with your shorts, which are actually Kei's shorts... so...” your Sister stuttered.

“Did you actually just listened to yourself?! I wear Keiras shorts, because I slept AT hers with my clothes still at your place...”

“Oh god... that was like a major shocking confusion just now... We should go eat something” your sister sighed out relived.

“You better not bring that up again.. that was just SO wrong” you shake your head.

“Do I know this person?” Lucy smirked as she held the door open for you

“Drop it, Lucia” you said annoyed but with a smile on your face

“So that's a Yes then” she grinned back at you, walking inside after you

“I said drop it... I won't tell you” you smirked

The two of you made your way back inside, immediately getting spotted by Keira, Alexia and Ona. You just sat down, you on Lucys Lap again and started to grab some Breakfast stuff. Keira smiled slightly before returning to eat her Cereal with Yoghurt and Fruit, while Alexia and Ona look at you baffled.

“What happened with the two of you?” Alexia asked confused

“What do you mean?” you mumble, chewing on a piece of Toast with tomato on it which your Sister offered you

“Stop talking with your mouth full, Y/n” Keira scolded you

“Like.. 10 minutes ago, you were basically pulling each others hair, nearly biting and now you're sitting here like nothing happened” Mapí looked at you puzzled.

“That... was 10 minutes ago?” you answered and looked like you didn't see a problem

“Again... welcome to the Bronze Family” Keira smiled at the Spaniards “One moment they're at each others throats, next they share food”

“You know what their problem is?” you ask your Sister confused

“No... on the other Hand I don't care” she shrugged her shoulders, pushing more food in front of you while eating the slightly healthier version of brunch.

After all of you finished your food you left the small restaurant all walking roughly in the same direction before it was time to go separate ways.

“See you later” Alexia said smiling before turning to Mapí “Want to run your laps before or after training?”

“You were serious about that?” the younger player exclaimed, her eyes growing big.

“When did I ever joked about you doing laps?” Alexia said, pulling an eyebrow up

“After, if that's okay” Mapí mumbled defeated, her head hung low

“Don't worry, Mapí... you won't be alone... Lucy and Y/n will join you” Keira smiled wickedly

“I think it's a little unfair that young, unfit1 me needs to keep up with world class players... Lucy can do my laps too...” you said innocently

“Nice try” Keira looked at you impressed “But no”

“Aaaawww maaaan” you groaned out

“If I need to run, you will too” your Sister growled

“Then it's settled” Alexia said grinning “The three of you, laps after training”

Lucy, Ona and you started to walk in the direction of Lucys apartment as you nudged her side

“Why do we want to run after training? Isn't it counterproductive to run when you're already tired and sweaty?”

“Theoretically it is a bad decision, because we’re already tired.... practically... we can use it as part of recovery AND it's a little cooler later in the afternoon...” your sister explained, while smiling slightly.

“Ah...” you say understanding “And how many laps do we need to run?”

Lucy started laughing “If Alexia is gracious maybe five”

“WHAT? FIVE?” you shriek and look at your sister shocked, which caused even Ona to chuckle

“Bubs... Alexia can make Mapí and I run... she can't make you run” Lucy winked at you

“Then why am I running laps with you and Mapí?” you looked at her like she’s growing a second head.

“Because you pissed off Keira?!” your Sister provided an answer

“Ah... yeah... I forgot about that” you said defeated

As you arrived the apartment, Ona wanted to say goodbye but got pulled inside by Lucy while you make your way to the kitchen.

“We need to talk” Lucy mumbled to her girlfriend

“¿Estás rompiendo conmigo?” Ona said sadly

“¿qué? no claro que no!!!” Lucy exclaimed shocked

Ona just shrugged her shoulders and looked up at Lucy sadly. Lucy took a step closer to the younger catalan woman taking her face in her hands.

“¿Por qué crees que rompería contigo?” your sister asked her girlfriend softly

“Necesitamos hablar suele ser un paso muerto” Ona said a little unsure

“I don't understand anything... could you please switch to english??” you yelled from the kitchen, where you prepared yourself a sandwich

“This is a PRIVATE conversation...” your Sister yelled back “... so get lost”

“Then don't hold your PRIVATE conversation in an open space like the living room, which is right next to the kitchen... your apartment ist very open” you answered, gesturing around the apartment.

“Are you seriously eating again?? We just had breakfast” Lucy exclaimed as she saw the sandwich “... and I told you to get lost, I want to talk to Ona... privatly”

“It's not like I understand anything” you rolled your eyes

“Los dejo a ustedes dos... No quiero entrometerme” Ona said quietly

“No te quedes... por favor” Lucy said a little desperate “Ignórala... lo siento, puedo enviarla a su habitación si te hace sentir incómodo”

“No, you should enjoy your time with your sister” Ona smiled but her eyes show sadness

“Thank you” you said, chewing on your sandwich, completely oblivious to what’s happening.

“I told you to get lost” Lucy growled at you and you noticed it was serious

“I don't know where to go... you never showed me around” you said annoyed

“Here” your sister reached into her pants pocket, pulling out some money “Here are 20 Euros, find the next Starbucks and buy yourself an Iced Chocolate Frappe... or something else without caffein... just PLEASE leave”

“Wow you really love me” you said sarcastic “It feels like I'm 13 all over and you wanted me out of the House so you can have “quality time” with Keira”

“I want you out of my apartment, because I need to speak to my girlfriend in private and you eating like harvester doesn't help... take your phone with you, god only knows Mum will kill me if you get lost in Barcelona because you took a wrong turn and ended up in La Mina – IF you get lost or need to get picked up, phone me.. or Keira! Be aware of pick pockers and don't interact with groups of spanish guys... DON'T GET KILLED” your Sister said, already pushing you towards the front door and outside

“I... hey...” you tried to protest but it was no use, since you found yourself already outside of the apartment

“Lucy... I need SHOES” you knocked hard on the door, which promptly opend and a pair of shoes were tossed outside.

Part 3 is in the making 😅

#mapi leon x reader #woso image #keira walsh x reader #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze #alexia putellas x reader #ona batlle

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teaboot · 5 months

Note

What are "transmasc" and "genderqueer"?

I just woke up so bear with me, but like

Western society has invented this idea of "man" and "woman", right? And we SAY it's actually real, and based on tangible things like sex characteristics- primary, like dicks n' hoo-has- and secondary, like tiddies an facial hair an cellulite.

Well, it turns out that those things ain't divided "correctly" into the man and woman categories all the time.

People with dicks sometimes get tiddies, people without dicks sometimes grow beards and chest hair, beauty standards like "woman thin and hairless and short with small nose and tiny feet" and "man tall and muscular with a beard and broad shoulders" aren't appearing in nature the way we say they should.

(These gendered standards also change over time, but that's a different post.)

What's more, some people have multiple primary characteristics, and it's not even super rare! (Again, worth a different post, and not one I'm really in a position to make.)

So, we say that we didn't just "invent" two exclusive boxes to sort a wide variety and spectrum of characteristics into by pure brute force, but evidence says otherwise. So do we change the rules of our society to fit that evidence?

No, we pick something else to support our beliefs.

Learning about genes and DNA and chromosomes came much later in the game, so most people's grasp of it is this: Men have XY chromosomes, women have XX chromosomes, and no matter what your body is shaped like, that determines which box you go in. Whatever you look like should be padded or amputated or shaved away until you fit in your box.

Except.... we now know that people who outwardly appear to be the perfect ideal poster children of "man" and "woman" are living full, natural, healthy and unbothered lives totally unaware that they have the "wrong" chromosomes. No visibly "mixed" characteristics at all. So there goes that idea out the window.

Unless we say that no, our invention which is fact still holds up- there's just a few mutants and freaks and dysfunctional anomalies that just sort of happen sometimes, like factory flaws that wouldn't exist if things were running as they should.

So what do we do with factory flaws? We "fix" them. Or pressure them to fix themselves. Or, if they can "pass" one way or another, shove them into that box and tell them to shut up about it. Don't fit into either? Then pick one, and make yourself fit.

But... then, if we can pick... if hairy women with flat chests and small hips can shave themselves down and throw on some padding and powder her face to be accepted.... why can't anyone else?

Or, if that same "woman" went, fuck it, cut his hair short and embraced all the "man" characteristics, went by different pronouns and stepped into the "man" box... wouldn't that be okay, too?

And, he'll, what if they changed nothing about themselves and decided to opt out? We've proven that these "universal facts" don't *actually* exist and exceptions are everywhere, so fuck it, right? "Man" and "woman" don't really mean anything tangible anyways, so why not do what makes you happy?

And since, again, evidence shows that "man" and "women" aren't perfect binary boxes with perfect binary traits- why bother living up to those traits at all? Why can't someone assigned to the "woman" box live in the "man" box with long hair and heels on? If I makes him happy, what's the harm?

We don't like this, though, because when you build two boxes that contain the whole world, and people start escaping, or slipping out to live in the one they like more, or switching, or building their own, people begin to wonder why they're living in boxes at all. If we even need boxes.

And the people who maintain the boxes tell us, it's because the boxes are safe, and the boxes are natural, and the boxes have been here exactly as they are since the beginning of time anyways, and NO, they aren't just terrified of life outside the shelter of the box, you're the weird one.

Meanwhile, if we really looked into it, I imagine we'd find more people who don't fit their box criteria, or don't even like their box, at least as often as we find people who do.

Transgender means "someone who isn't in their assigned box".

Genderqueer means, "someone who isn't in their assigned box", but in a the same broad way that "transgender" is- Maybe a him, maybe a her, maybe both, maybe a they, perhaps a xey, and sometimes some of us move around.

I say I'm genderqueer, 'cause that fits me, but "Transmasc" to me personally means, "I know I'm not a woman, and I'm closer to the "man" box, but I'm happier wandering outside the "man" box than I am stepping fully inside. (Dysphoria is part of that, but again, in my opinion it's not vital to the experience.)

And I'm not one for destroying those two boxes entirely- they bring joy to a lot of people.

Just, you know. Maybe making more, different boxes. And maybe little camps out between them. And not treating people who roam the wilderness instead like rabid animals. Is the thing.

Long answer

#Long post #Text post #Gender #Transgender #Transmasc #Genderqueer #Correct me if I'm wrong I'm not fully awake and also wrong sometimes and also a lil dumb on top o that

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mattitties · 3 months

Text

sworn enemy - matt sturniolo

I don’t have many enemies in my life. I try to get along with most people, and even if I don’t like them, I do my best to be friendly no matter what. But there’s one person that I absolutely cannot stand: Matt Sturniolo.

I moved to LA about six months ago, and the triplets were some of the first people I met. I got close with Nick first, then Chris, and I attempted to get close with Matt, but he was so closed off and became outwardly rude to me every interaction we had. I have no idea why he hates me so much, but I will not tolerate him giving me that kind of attitude for no reason when I’ve tried to be his friend.

So I don’t try anymore. I’m over at their house more than I’m at mine, and I’ve gotten to the point of completely ignoring that asshole when he comes into the room. Is it rude to ignore someone in their own home? Sure, but none of this would be happening if he didn’t make it abundantly clear from day one that he has no interest in being my friend.

Nick and Chris invited me over tonight to watch a movie, so of course I accepted. Despite everything with Matt, I absolutely adore Nick and Chris and would never turn down an opportunity to spend time with them.

“Helloooo,” I say when I walk into the living room, where they’re already setting up the movie.

“Hey!” Nick smiles as he gives me a hug. “Movie’s almost ready, you wanna get some snacks?”

I nod and head to the kitchen, saying hello to Chris in the process. I’m so invested in rummaging through their fridge that I don’t even notice Matt walk into the room until he groans.

“Oh joy, look who’s here!” he says as I turn around.

“Don’t worry, I won’t bother you,” I tell him as I grab some drinks. “Just go back to your cave and it’ll be like I’m not even here!”

He rolls his eyes. “I can feel your presence even from there. Seriously, who invited her?”

“We did,” Chris says. “Come on dude, isn’t this getting a little old? It’s time to get over whatever dumb shit you have against her and grow up.”

Matt shakes his head as he takes a box of Goldfish to the couch. “Nah, I’m good. So what are we watching?”

“Oh, so now you wanna watch with us?” I ask. “Two seconds ago you were acting like it was the end of the world that I’m here.”

“Well, this is my house, and I should be able to watch a movie in my house even when little annoying creatures are sitting on my couch,” he smiles sarcastically at me.

I say nothing in response. He’s such a dick.

“Oh, before I forget, do you want to come to TopGolf tomorrow night with us and our friends?” Chris asks me.

“I wish, but I’m going to a bar tomorrow night with my roommate,” I tell him.

“No worries, we’ll go another time. Matt’s not going either because he’s just too good for all of us, isn’t that right Matt?” Chris teases and pokes Matt’s stomach, earning a punch to his upper arm from Matt.

I roll my eyes at Matt’s clear inability to have any fun and sit back as the movie begins.

I should not have gone out tonight. I’m having the worst night. I should have gone to TopGolf with Chris and Nick. All my life choices are being regretted.

My roommate is currently in the bathroom probably sucking some random guy off, and I have somehow gotten in the middle of two drunk guys fighting over god knows what. The place is crowded and I’m being swallowed in a sea of people as I desperately try to get away from the fight before punches start being thrown.

I’m unsuccessful.

In the midst of the chaos, one of the guys accidentally nails me right in the eye as he goes to hit the other. He doesn’t even notice and continues going after him, but other people do notice. I really wish they hadn’t. I want nothing more than to just get out of there.

I push my way to the entrance and ignore the small crowd of people following me and asking if I’m okay.

“I’m fine,” I tell them, speeding up and breathing a sigh of relief when I make it outside.

The pain in my eye doesn’t even register until I open my camera and see it: red, bloody, and already starting to swell. I’m tearing up, and I can’t tell if it’s from the pain or from the disaster that is tonight. I need to go home, but there’s no way I’m going back inside to get my roommate, and she definitely won’t see if I text or call her. I could Uber, but I’m terrified of Ubering alone, especially in Los Angeles at 11 PM. I don’t want to bother Nick and Chris while they’re out, even though I know they would drop everything to get me.

A pit in my stomach rises as I click Matt’s contact name and text him.

are you up? kind of in a situation here and need a ride

Bruh

Call someone else

i wouldn’t ask unless i really needed help

please

I hate how desperate I sound, especially to him, but I’m cold and scared and in pain, so at this point I really don’t care.

Jesus fine where are u

I send him my location and wait. He pulls up ten minutes later, and I do my best to hide my tear stained and bloody face as I get in the car.

“Thank you so much,” I tell him, trying to control my shaky voice. “I’m really sorry, I just–”

“Are you okay?” he asks. I’m barely looking at him, but I can feel him staring at me.

“Yeah, why?”

He turns my face towards him with his thumb. His eyes widen when he sees my eye, which definitely looks worse than it did 10 minutes ago. “Dude! What the fuck happened???”

“Nothing, I’m fine,” I tell him, my eyes starting to well up again.

“You’re not fine. What happened? Who did this to you?”

“Nobody did anything, I swear. Two guys were just fighting and I couldn’t move fast enough and I got hit. It’s my fault, but I’m fine. It doesn’t even hurt,” I explain unconvincingly as I start to cry.

“If it doesn’t hurt, why are you crying?”

“Because I just wanna go home, Matt! Can you just take me home?” I sob.

“Okay, okay,” he says gently as he switches gears to drive. “Can I take you to my house? We need to clean up that eye.”

I nod and look out the window as he drives us home. He is the absolute last person I want to see in this state. I know he’s going to use this against me in a few days and he’s never going to let me live it down.

When we get to the triplets’ house, I make a beeline for Matt’s bathroom and look at myself in the mirror.

“Oh my god,” I mumble. I look awful. My eye is completely swollen and it’s turning purple. I have a gash in my cheek. “Why the fuck did I go out tonight?” I say as Matt walks in behind me. “I have to go to work looking like this! I’m not gonna make any tips! People are gonna throw up looking at me!”

“Okay, calm down,” he tells me. “Sit on the toilet. I’m gonna clean it and get you some ice and then you can just chill here, okay?”

I nod and sit down on the toilet lid as he gets a cotton ball and some hydrogen peroxide. He tilts my chin up to look at him. “Little sting,” he mumbles. I scrunch my face at the feeling of the peroxide on the cut. “I know, I’m sorry, almost done.”

He dabs the cut a few times and throws the cotton ball out. “Come on,” he says, motioning me to get up. “Go lay down and I’ll get ice.”

I silently oblige and lay on his bed, giving him a small smile when he returns with some ice chunks in a ziplock bag covered in a paper towel.

“It’s the best I could do,” he says when he hands it to me. “We don’t have any actual ice packs.”

“It’s great, thank you.”

He lays down next to me and turns on the TV. I’m not even paying attention. All I can think about is trying not to ask the one thing I desperately want to know. I almost keep myself from saying it, until it just comes out of my mouth like word vomit.

“Why don’t you like me?”

He looks at me, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. “What?”

I immediately regret everything, but I ask again. “Why don’t you like me? I mean, Nick and Chris both like me, so I would assume you would too, but like… did I do something to you?”

He sits up and turns the TV off. “I dropped everything tonight to come save you from a bar. Why don’t you think I like you?”

“You’re just so mean to me. You have been since the day we met. And I don’t understand what I did to deserve that. If you don’t like me, that’s fine, I just want to know why.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment. “I do like you. I never meant to make it seem like I don’t, I thought we were just playing around. Like friends tease each other, ya know?”

“Well yeah, but… you’ve never done anything to make me think we’re friends, so…”

“I’m sorry,” he says. He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something else, but then closes it.

“What?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Nothin. Do you want to stay here tonight? I can get you something to change into.”

“Oh,” I reply, completely taken aback by this. “Yeah… yeah, that would be nice. Thank you.”

He offers me a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt which I take into the bathroom and change into, discarding the ice pack in the process. I take another look in the mirror and sigh.

“God, I look fucking disgusting,” I say when I climb back into his bed.

“You look beautiful,” he says so quietly I have to double check if I even heard him correctly.

“Don’t tell me that just because you feel bad for me.”

“I’m not.” He turns on his side to face me. “You are beautiful.”

“Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?”

His eyes are moving between my eyes and my lips. I’m starting to put the pieces together, and it’s terrifying.

“Because I’m tired of pushing my feelings down and making it your problem,” he says. I don’t say anything, I just give him time to explain. “I didn’t want to like you because you were Nick and Chris’ friend first, and I didn’t want to ruin anything. I thought being a dick would make my feelings go away. It didn’t.”

“I like you, Matt,” I whisper. “I have since I first met you. It made me so sad to think that you didn’t like me. And I’m sorry I’ve also been mean to you.”

“Don’t be sorry, I deserved it,” he says. “Do you still hurt?”

I shake my head. “Not really.”

“Good,” he says before lightly holding my cheek and pressing a soft kiss to my lips. I freeze for a moment, not fully processing what’s happening, and then I hold his wrist and kiss him back, our lips moving perfectly together.

It’s clear that neither of us have any intention of taking it further tonight. We continue to kiss for just a couple minutes until we separate, doing nothing but staring into each others’ eyes.

“Goodnight, Matt,” I say.

“Goodnight.”

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader

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msafterhours · 5 months

Text

Two Hands

Male Reader x woo!ah! & EL7Z UP Nana (Nayeon)

~25k words

“We should do this more often,” Nayeon murmurs into your chest.

“I mean, sure, I’d be happy to come support your group any time I’m not—”

“No, not that!” she exclaims, giggling slightly as she pulls away just enough to look up at you. “I mean this.”

And she pulls you in even tighter, leaving you short of breath in more ways than one.

Nights like this make you wish the world was a bit kinder to you. You’re bundled under multitudes of layers of thick clothes, thin mask and scarf completing your near head to toe coverage, yet you still can’t seem to keep your teeth from chattering incessantly. Your efforts manage to preserve some of your warmth, but another shiver reminds you of the urgent need to get inside and get some food inside of you. It’s really, really cold outside.

Thus, you swear the gleaming gates of heaven themselves stand before you when you catch a glimpse of the bright lights of your favorite little ramen shop. Fighting against the harsh winter air, you trudge through the icy slush, cursing the severity of the snowstorm and the stupidity of your decision to splurge on a new pair of casual shoes instead of investing in more functional footwear. It’s really, really cold outside.

A sigh of relief escapes your lips as you open the door and feel the warm embrace of the heated air, but your solace is swiftly supplanted by dread as you look around and notice that the shop’s well over full capacity, with little if any seating room available.

"Whatever, let's just get in line and hope for the best," you think to yourself as you take your place in line behind a pair of old ladies.

“I swear, it was a rabbit that ran past us!” one exclaims.

“Absolutely not, I know a squirrel when I see one!” the other insists, stomping her foot in frustration.

tick...

tock...

After a few surprisingly entertaining minutes, you finally make it to the front of the line and the familiar face behind the counter.

"The same as the last hundred or so times?" the old lady asks with a wry smile.

"Hey hey hey, ninety-two times, thank you very much!" you answer with mock indignation. "But yes, I’m well aware how much of my budget goes to your shop, Aunt Kim."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," she fires back, tapping away at the screen as she yells your order to the kitchen. "Would you?"

"Absolutely not," you answer without hesitation as you leave a generous tip. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna attempt the impossible and try to find somewhere to sit in your stupidly crowded shop."

"Good luck!" she calls out as you turn and walk away. "You're going to need it!"

You sweep the room once, twice. Neither survey produces anything but depressing results. A third time, just in case. Nothing’s changed. A heavy, dramatic sigh escapes you as you ready yourself to accept your seemingly inevitable fate. But before you can concede, a bright glint in the corner of your vision offers hope, causing you to turn and find what you've been desperately looking for.

A girl, seemingly around your age, with glowing golden hair that shines brilliantly, reflecting the warm yellow lights scattered around the shop, sits alone. Your heart leaps for joy as you see, most importantly, an unutilized chair across from her. You cling to that shred of hope, quickly making your way over before coming to a stop in front of her table.

A few moments more than you can endure pass as she continues to tap away her phone, either not noticing your presence or choosing to ignore it. Eventually, you clear your throat and wave your hand in front of her, causing her to jump slightly and finally look up at you. Your eyes meet, and you feel the words escape your mind in the moment you hold her gaze. It takes a second, then another, but you finally remember your goal and cease your staring.

"Um, sorry to bother you, but … there are no other seats available, and I really, really, don't want to have to go outside again yet," you hurriedly explain, praying to whoever’s listening that this random, empyrean being you just met might miraculously take pity upon you. "Would it be alright if I sat here with you?"

She regards you for many moments, each feeling like an eternity as you stand there awkwardly. She stares, deep into your eyes then deeper still, hunting an ulterior motive. Her eyes flash and dart, scanning the singular you as if you’re an entire crowd. You know not what she searches for, but whatever test of virtue you’re subjected to, she seems satisfied with the result as she nods and gestures to the seat across from her.

You finally release the breath you hadn't realized you were holding, thanking her profusely as you join her at the table.

Your display finally earns a crack in the ice, shifting her skeptical expression to one of sick amusement as she comments, "If you’re this scared of the cold, why are you out so late? Surely you didn’t forget to go shopping before the snowstorm … right? Surely."

You feel your ears burning with a warmth from deep, deep within as your embarrassment flares up. Your initial response tells truths, but her smug expression leads your words elsewhere. "Would you believe I just really wanted ramen from my favorite shop and was willing to suffer the consequences to do so?"

Her sinister smile widens as she leans in and counters, "I just might … if you didn't sound like a guilty schoolboy who got caught trying to copy someone's test answers."

She holds your gaze once again, deep brown eyes delving into the depths of your soul, trapping you within a pocket of agonizing silence amongst the shop’s raucous atmosphere.

"Well?" she whispers breathlessly. "Are you gonna use your words? Or are you just gonna let those firetruck red ears do the talking?"

You exhale heavily, feeling your faux hubris exit your body as you confess, "Alright, fine. You got me. No more lies. I might've sorta ruined up my planning for the week and ran out of food last night, alright? Now, please, I beg you, stop looking at me like that."

Your response catches her off guard, but you’re quick to join her in shock as she bursts into a quiet fit of laughter. Her mirth immediately entrances you; each note a part of the chorus that dances on your eardrums and seals itself deep into your heart.

You wrack your brain for a proper retort, hoping to turn the tides of this war of words, but your rebuttal is prevented by the arrival of Aunt Kim with your meal. You thank her profusely as she sets it down, earning a smile before she turns to address your companion.

"Would you like me to take your bowl, Nayeon?" she asks, smiling at your companion in a way you’d believed was reserved for only you.

"Yes please, thank you, ma'am," Nayeon responds, picking up the bowl and handing it to her.

"Bah, you and your stubbornness," Aunt Kim grumbles. "With how often you come here, the formality just feels stuffy. Just call me Aunt Kim like this other addict does."

“I could probably do that. You could also agree to call me Nana like all my other friends do,” Nayeon answers back, a genuine smile gracing her features for the first time you’ve seen.

Aunt Kim rolls her eyes dramatically as she pats your head affectionately in the way she knows you hate, then walks away with that same warm smile that you’d thought was saved exclusively for you, but now know is also shared with the girl sitting across from you.

"Oh, you’re a regular too?" you ask as you begin to enjoy your meal. "I'm surprised I haven't seen you before."

"I'm usually here later," Nayeon responds as she idly taps away on her phone again. "Not huge on coming here when it's so busy."

"I totally get that. I'm usually here earlier, before the big rush, but this week has been crazy. Add the storm on top of that, and I guess that leaves me here, forced to settle for getting swept up in the dinner surge."

"Oh, so you're settling for my company, huh? I see how it is," Nayeon replies, feigning indignation as she crosses her arms and huffs in disbelief. "I guess next time a popsicle wants to share a table, I'll make sure to send him back to the freezer."

"Hey hey hey, easy now," you reply, raising your hands in surrender. "I'm not a huge fan of this chaos either, but I am eternally grateful for your company and your great sacrifice of existing in my vicinity."

"You're very welcome," Nayeon offhandedly remarks. "Your expression mid-head pat was almost hilarious enough to justify my continued tolerance of your presence."

And just like that, you feel the conversation derail, coming to a screeching halt as hints of embarrassment creep up your neck and render your face even more flush. With a grumble and a rather undignified pout, you let your eyes fall to the far warmer bowl of ramen that awaits you and begin enjoying your meal, causing Nayeon to hum in amused satisfaction at your surrender as she returns to her phone and resumes tapping away at what sounds like a game.

While you'd begrudgingly admit that you’ve enjoyed the conversation thus far, you’re pleasantly surprised at how easy it is to simply enjoy the serene feeling of sharing Nayeon's company. In fact, the silence grants you a brief chance to study the countenance of your dining companion, and you’re more than happy to seize the opportunity.

It seems that the only thing sharper than her words is her jawline, which is itself a sharp contrast from her other, softer features. As much as you wish you could stare back into her eyes once more, her downward gaze and focus on her phone makes doing so impossible, "forcing" you instead to focus on her lips, which she occasionally bites in frustration, causing your heart to swell in a way that feels unsafe yet anything but unnatural.

"Enjoying the view?"

Well shit.

Your eyes barely have to drift upwards to meet her gaze, where her eyes await you once more with a scrutinizing yet intrigued twinkle. While only moments ago you were wishing you could stare into her eyes once more, the combination of the intensity of her stare and your embarrassment forces you to look down in shame as you meekly mutter a quiet apology.

"Nah, you're not getting off that easily," Nayeon says, setting aside her phone and leaning in. "What'd you think? And please do be honest. You wouldn’t want to break your promise, would you?"

After only a moment's hesitation, you stare back into her eyes and open the floodgates.

"Well, it's only been a couple minutes, but I've decided that I love the way your hair glows like golden honey in this light, I'm pretty sure your jawline is sharp enough to cut through diamond, and I'm definitely sure that if you keep biting your lip the way you do whenever you're focused or frustrated or whatever that I'm going to be too dizzy to walk home."

“...”

tick...

“Oh.”

tock...

The raucous atmosphere of the shop seems to once again fade away as you intently hold the gaze of the girl you recently met but feel like you’ve known forever. You can’t shake this odd sense of familiarity, like you had seen her before somewhere, but can’t quite put your finger on where.

Regardless, by this point, the silence between you has stretched to an uncomfortable length of time. After bearing it a moment longer as you attempt to gather your resolve, you ask, "So, uh, what do you think? I mean, I'd also prefer it if you were honest, but I don't have a promise to hold you to, so I guess I'll just have to settle for asking nicely and hoping for the best?"

Your follow-up seems to finally shock Nayeon out of her reverie, leading her to finally pick her jaw up off the floor and respond, "I mean, okay, good to know. A little much, not gonna lie, but keep talking like that and I might have to let you keep doing what you're doing. Can’t say I hate the attention."

She pauses for a moment, allowing her eyes to run across your upper body before meeting your gaze once more and adding, "And hey, you're not too rough on the eyes either."

tick...

Only a single serene second slips by as you hold each other's gaze before you see inspiration flash across her visage. The glimmer in her eyes is quickly joined by a familiar smirk as she glances down to your lips before returning to look you in the eyes.

Then she steals your heart.

Again.

With that unreasonably sultry lip bite.

Again.

"And I thought the cold was going to be the reason I died tonight," you whisper, quietly enough that only she could hear.

Just in case she hadn't yet properly staked her claim on your heart, Nayeon responds with potentially the only thing more charming than her lip bites; her laughter, which once again resonates across the table directly through your eardrums, across your inner bridge, and into your heart.

You open your mouth, hoping to continue the conversation further, but find yourself abruptly cut off by a sudden series of discordant cacophonies as her phone vibrates harshly against the wooden table. You watch on in poorly hidden dismay as she checks it and her mirthful expression transforms into a grimace at the messages' contents.

"Ugh, I need to get back to my place," she explains as she begins to gather her things.

"Oh, okay," you sigh. "Thanks again for letting me sit with you and for the … mostly pleasant conversation."

Her frown fades, revealing hints of the smile hidden within. "Sure, no problem. I'm sure Ms. Kim would have wanted me dead if she heard I mistreated her other major source of income."

You can’t help but chuckle at her words, though the laughter feels cheerless in the face of more pressing concerns. "Am I going to see you again?"

Her eyes stare into your own once more, piercing through to your core. "Who knows? We've been coming to this shop as frequently as we have for as long as we have for who knows how long and haven't run into each other until now. Who's to say it won't take another couple of years until our paths cross again?"

And with that sobering perspective, the girl you’ve come to know as Nayeon stands, giving you only the slightest nod in farewell before stepping away from the table. You watch her as she takes her first few steps, feeling your heart sink lower and lower as the distance between you grows larger and larger.

tock...

But suddenly, you almost swear you can see a lightbulb go off above her head, causing her to turn and walk back to the table.

"You know, I never did catch your name," Nayeon remarks casually.

Despite the exhilaration of your heart soaring at her return, you try to maintain a neutral expression as you reply, "Perfect, now we both have a reason to meet again."

While it might just be your imagination, you dare to hope that it’s your words that transform her sly smirk into a genuine smile that reaches her eyes.

"Oh yeah? What's your reason?"

"Who said I only have one?"

With her curiosity sated and ego sufficiently inflated, Nayeon gives you a small smile as a farewell, then turns and walks out of the ramen shop. And as the clock ticks ever onward and you sit alone at the table, pondering what impact this night might have on the rest of your life, you can only hope that she hasn’t walked away for the final time.

tick...

tock...

tick...

tock...

It really was bearable the first couple of days.

But the days turned to weeks and the weeks turned to months and the months began to feel like years. And as time mercilessly continues to pass by, you unsurprisingly find yourself increasingly affected by the thought of her.

You realized something was seriously wrong when entire weeks began to blur together and each visit to the ramen shop left you feeling colder and lonelier than your previous visit. It isn’t long before the intrusive thoughts remodel your mind and claim it as their own, leaving you wondering if you had lost your love for your favorite restaurant and your best chance at love in a single night. Despite the depressing potential of those dramatic notions, you attempt to cast them aside, instead focusing your efforts on maintaining your previous routine and, more importantly, meeting Nayeon again.

Since you assume Aunt Kim will rat you out to Nayeon if you’re too desperate in your attempts, you choose a more subtle approach. Instead of showing up every night, you alter your schedule to better fit hers. The awkward “middle” shifts at your work are rarely prioritized, so you’re easily able to make the change and justify your abnormally late arrivals to the shop.

However, your efforts fall short, leaving you wanting, craving even a glimpse of the radiant smile that graces your dreams far more often than you’d readily admit. And even though you desperately want to ask Aunt Kim if she’s even seen Nayeon, you’re well aware that outside assistance would break the unspoken rules of the game. So, even as your heart yearns for her, you choose to continue playing. Even in the face of defeat, you persevere.

All the while, a nagging feeling remains in the back of your mind. Though you can’t figure out why, you’re sure you know her from somewhere. The passage of time allows that nagging to fester, growing exponentially until it becomes all you can think about.

It’s not long before the pressure becomes unbearable, forcing you to cave. Nayeon’s a fairly popular name, but luckily, you’re able to fall back on her nickname of “Nana”. Thus, on a day that’s become your new norm, you dedicate part of your shift to searching through Naver pages, eventually finding what you’ve been looking for. Kind of.

You find that she’s the main dancer and leader of a girl group named woo!ah!, one of the seemingly endless number of new K-Pop groups that’ve slipped under your radar. As you scroll through the pages and watch video after video, you unsurprisingly enjoy their music, yet feel a sense of unease grow with each passing video. You’d expected feelings of excitement and joy to burst forth with each of Nayeon’s appearances, but instead you’re met by dread, trepidation, and a plethora of other unpleasant emotions that you can’t identify amidst the maelstrom rampaging in your heart.

You finish their MV playlist depressingly quickly, finding far more questions than answers at the end of this rainbow. Unfortunately, before you can reach a satisfying conclusion, the clock strikes twelve and begins to sing, signaling the end of your shift. After packing up your things, you depart, and, following a short bus ride, you arrive at the intersection where you turn right to visit the noodle shop once again.

And an hour later, after you’ve stood in line, placed your order, found somewhere to sit, enjoyed your meal, and looked over every square millimeter of the room, you find yourself alone.

Once.

Again.

tick...

tock...

Seemingly a moment later, you’re surprised to find yourself at home. You rationalize that your body must have moved on its own and your brain must not have cared to encode the memory of walking this familiar path, but even this explanation leaves you with serious concerns. As you reach into your pocket and feel the warmth from your fingers being sapped by the key’s cold metal, you simply feel … tired.

What’s the point of changing your routine if your days are bound to end the same as always?

What’s the point of searching for warmth if you continue to be left alone in the cold?

What’s the point of listening to your heart if all it leads you to is the deafening silence of your empty apartment?

You can feel it in the air as you turn the key, open the door, and enter the suffocating silence of your apartment. The air’s cold. Heavy. The room’s dark. Empty. And you’re sure. Ready. As much as your heart yearns to chase Nayeon, your mind is telling you that it’s time. Time to return to the routine you’ve relied on for so, so long. You begin by sending a quick email to your supervisor, requesting a change back to your previous schedule. Then, after a few more hours that won’t be worth remembering, you willingly wade into the darkness.

You mourn the loss of what could have been. You allow the clouds to roll in, allow the falling rain to drown out the sounds of your heart beating against its cage and its cries for freedom. You pray that the storm will wash away the memories of that night. You hope, as desperately as ever, that you’ll find her. But if your heart can’t have what it wants, you’ll ask your mind to forget her.

tick…..

tock.

tick…..

tock.

Is it eight days later? Nine days? Ten? Your memory might have failed you again, but routine provides you necessary stability once more, helping you through the motions of working the once familiar morning shift before guiding you through the short bus ride to your stop and the subsequent walk to an always familiar intersection and a newly unwelcome decision.

If you simply continue forwards, you’ll arrive at your apartment, where you know that leftovers and loneliness amidst the silence of solitude awaits. However, if routine truly is still in the driver’s seat, you’ll turn to your right, towards Aunt Kim’s, where you know that ramen and loneliness amidst the voices of others awaits.

Thus, despite the clear blue sky and the bright sun that signaled the early signs of winter’s departure, decision paralysis sets in. The light flashes yellow, yet you need to decide, now. Then, it flashes red, yet you know you need to go. Finally, the indicator flashes green, yet you remain motionless as the crowd begins to surge past you.

It’s there, in that moment, where you stop fighting anxiety’s powerful pull, allowing it to drag you under, away from your routine. It’s there, in that moment, where you give up, instead electing to return home. Yet, it’s there, in that moment, where you feel a gentle tug on your arm and see a flash of warm golden light in your periphery.

"Come on, you gotta get there before it gets busy," Nayeon whispers, mock urgency masking her features and veiling her words. "Otherwise, you might have to ask some weirdo if you can share a table with them."

You’re all too eager to allow yourself to be dragged along, heart nearly bursting out of your chest as you loudly exclaim, “Nayeon! I—”

Your words are a jumbled mess, bouncing around the inside of your skull, desperately trying to escape all at once, but you hold them all back as the other pedestrians turn, glaring at you as they judge your sudden outburst. Once you finish offering meek smiles and apologetic waves, you whisper back, “You’re right, that sounds terrible! Let’s go!”

As she continues to drag you along, you take the opportunity to study the beaming visage of your guide once more. The passage of time allows you to view the literal girl of your dreams in a new light, and you find Nayeon’s just as radiant in today’s pleasant sunshine as she was so many weeks ago, hidden away from the harsh snowfalls of the early Korean winter.

"What should I say?" you wonder to yourself as you allow her to lead you down the busy sidewalk. "Would it be too forward to say I missed her after only meeting her once before?"

A familiar cadence, the ringing of a very particular bell, cuts your internal musings short, shunting you back into reality as Nayeon opens the door to Aunt Kim's ramen shop. Nayeon finally detaches from your arm, leaving you feeling cold and empty. Not unlike your freezer that fateful night, so many months ago.

After shaking off the last remnants of your reverie, you step forward and join her in line. Despite being a fair bit taller than her, you can’t seem to make out what exactly she’s doing on her phone as you both wait to place your order.

It only takes a few moments of snooping before a wave of guilt washes over you as you realize your invasion of her privacy, causing you to shift your gaze elsewhere, to other areas of the shop. Areas such as the table where you had sat the previous time, which currently sits unoccupied.

"Another missed opportunity," you think to yourself as you grieve the lost potential and come to another realization. "Not to mention the fact that she held the door for me because I was so lost in thought! Ugh, you're blowing it! Stop overthinking everything."

After a few short minutes idly spent looking anywhere except towards Nayeon, all of the customers in line in front of you finish placing their orders and go to find a seat. You aren’t surprised as Nayeon needs mere moments to recite her clearly well-practiced offer, but you are caught off guard when Aunt Kim leans close to Nayeon, whispering something you can’t make out amidst the low murmur of the crowd inhabiting your second home.

The rational part of your brain informs you that, at most, a few seconds pass. Your emotions tell a far different story, flooding your overwrought mind with a deluge of disquieting dangers and forcing you to consider each of the painful possibilities and worst-case scenarios that comprise the tsunami attempting to drag you into the depths of self-doubt. Eventually, the two part, and as Nayeon turns to face you, her mischievous expression and gleaming smile ignites a flame in you, burning away any frost that’s formed since you left her embrace.

Her eyes flick over towards Aunt Kim, seemingly challenging you to approach the elderly woman who stands behind the counter with crossed arms and a dangerously amused expression. This time, however, Nayeon doesn’t even give your words enough time to get caught in your throat, instead simply walking past you and allowing the silky strands of her hair to brush your shoulder and convey all the intent she needs to.

As you gather what little cognitive function remains, you’re especially grateful for the familiarity of this place as Aunt Kim enters your order with well-practiced quickness. You’re uncharacteristically afraid of meeting her eyes as you sign your name and begin to enter the same generous tip you’ve always given, but her scoff of indignation as you meekly hold out your hand for your order number forces you to do so.

"So." she says bluntly, withholding the plastic indicator as she awaits your response.

"Yes ma’am?” you ask, voice laced with saccharine innocence.

“Oh gods, don’t tell me that that girl’s stubbornness has infected you too,” Aunt Kim responds exasperatedly. “You finally managed to meet up with her again, eh?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you respond as you delete your previous number, instead entering an extra-large tip before braving Aunt Kim’s gaze once more, silently conveying your plea for mercy as you literally attempt to buy her silence.

Aunt Kim’s eyes flash down briefly, widening for a moment before a deep, jovial laugh echoes out from her, reverberating throughout the room as she holds your gaze once more.

“All right, act sly all you like. I'm just tired of seeing someone come in alone fifty times in a row just to spend their time here hoping and searching for a certain someone.”

The banter is unique, odd, and comfortably routine as you ease into its familiar warmth. Your brow arches dramatically as you declare, “Why Aunt Kim, I can’t stand these accusations! It’s only been forty-six times since then!”

You watch as Aunt Kim’s smile fades, shifting from a display of mirth to a thin obfuscation of sadness as she responds, “You’re not the only one who’s been sitting alone at a table for two. Now go!”

And as she pushes your number into your hands and sends your mind into a tailspin, you’re left with no other option but to turn and allow the next customer to set up. Your body’s autopilot takes over, turning you further until you face the table where this all started, only to find it occupied.

By none other than Nayeon herself.

You lock eyes for the briefest of moments before she avoids your gaze, poorly pretending to be enthralled by the black screen of her phone. As the slightest hints of confidence begin to emerge from within, you walk up to the table, acting as casually as you can, pulling out a chair and taking a seat across from her.

After offering up a prayer to whoever’s listening, desperately hoping that you wouldn’t blow this chance, you look straight at her and ask, “So, how have you been?”

“Oh, so we’re just getting right into it, huh?” Nayeon asks, already crafting the thin veneer of the haughtiness she’d used to shield herself before. “Not even going to thank me for saving you a seat? I know you’ve had issues finding them before.”

You raise your hands up in mock surrender as you admit, “Alright, fair enough. I am very grateful for your act of charity once again, and I’ll be sure to make it up to you.”

“I’m glad to see you’ve come to your senses,” she declares, obvious satisfaction in her smirk as she nods in approval. “To answer your question, I’ve been fortunate enough to be busy, so that’s always good. Aside from work, I guess it’s mostly just been working out, spending time with those I’m closest to, and coming here. What about you?”

“I’ve …” your voice trails off for a moment, granting you silence as you meticulously craft your next line. “I’ve had better months, but I honestly can’t complain too much. Work’s been consistent, so like you said, that’s always good. Plus, I always have this place to come back to, so that’s a big plus.”

“So, you come here often?” Nayeon asks, waggling her eyebrows in the most tropey, dramatic way possible. It’s clearly meant to be humorous, and you’re all too eager to reward her efforts with a smile. You just also hope it buys you time to reclaim the breath she steals so easily.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that," you say, chuckling slightly as you struggle against all the unwelcome thoughts and emotions that continuously threaten to boil over. "Especially the past couple of months, I'm fairly sure I've made a sizeable contribution to the 'Kim Family College Fund'. What about you, have you also been a generous donor?"

And there it is. For the first time since that night a lifetime ago, your words strike a chord, and your just reward is the melodious laughter that bursts free from the alluring lips of Nayeon before gently drifting across the table and imprinting itself once again upon your soul. And all you can wonder is why you’d ever choose to stop chasing her.

After the briefest of stanzas, her mirthful song quiets and her words shift to a whisper. "Listen, if my friends ever find out just how often I've been coming here and how much I've spent, it’ll be the last day I see the sun! So shhh!"

The quiet laugh that resonates out straight from your heart may not be planned or voluntary, but anyone paying a modicum of attention can easily tell it’s genuine. You feel free, weightless even, to an extent you haven’t felt since a certain night so many weeks ago. And as you savor this moment of warmth, of dethawing even, you’re glad to see that same joy mirrored in the eyes and smile of Nayeon too.

"Alright, fair enough. Not a word to your friends, and you won't rat me out to mine? Deal?"

"Deal!" she responds eagerly, extending her hand out to shake yours.

Without hesitation, you reach out and seal the pact, cherishing the influx of warmth generated by even the swiftest second of your fingertips grazing the soft skin of her palm.

But then, just like that, it’s gone. The briefest moment of contact ends all too soon, and you find yourself in silence once more.

Fortunately, this time it doesn’t last, as Nayeon speaks up once more.

"So … any particular reason you've been around more often recently?" she asks as she looks around in a familiar pattern, seemingly fascinated by the decorations of the place she must have visited hundreds of times.

"I might have a reason," you respond suavely as you lean back in your chair. "Maybe even a couple."

"Oh yeah?" she asks, ending her search as she reaches her destination: your eyes. "Pardon my vanity, but is there any chance … I’m one of those reasons?"

In this moment, this secular moment of confession, this seductress needs no lip bites nor any promises of sweet nothings to ensnare your heart even further. All you need is to look into her eyes, where you see the same earnest anticipation mirrored within your own soul.

So, in this moment, you give yourself no time to second guess yourself, acting on pure instinct as you take out your heart, affix it to your sleeve in full view of everyone within the restaurant, and admit, "Yeah, I mean, you’re the only reason that mattered. I guess … I was scared of the thought of never seeing you again. I really missed you."

tick...

Another moment passes. But this stretch of silence is far shorter than the last and her response is far quicker than last time you’d shared a confession. This time, it’s her words that shock you.

"Thanks, I … uh, really missed you too," she whispers softly, perhaps trying to preserve the serenity of this moment between the two of you.

tock...

Milliseconds begin to feel like minutes as you desperately rack your brain, searching for an adequate continuation to the conversation. Fortunately, just as desperation tips over into despair, none other than Aunt Kim comes to your rescue, carrying a pair of bowls in her hands and a complicated collection of emotions across her countenance.

First, she offers Nayeon her warm bowl with an even warmer smile, which Nayeon is happy to return in kind. Then, just as you recover from being blinded by Nayeon’s radiance, Aunt Kim turns to you, deliberately holding back your bowl as she offers nothing but a quirked eyebrow and an expectant expression.

You raise your hands in surrender once more, internally cursing the developing trend as you ask, “What, Miss Aunt Kim, could you possibly be expecting from me? Ma’am.”

You aren’t sure if it’s your sheepish expression or Aunt Kim’s sigh of exasperation that sparks it, but whatever semblance of a train of thought you’d begun crafting is sent careening off the rails by the return of that same singsong laughter that’s lifted your spirits up from the depths they’d plummeted to.

While Nayeon continues her chorus of joy, you watch as Aunt Kim’s frosty exterior thaws, causing her to gently place the bowl in your hands before pulling away just the slightest bit.

“I’m just glad things finally lined up,” Aunt Kim says with a knowing smile and another ruffling of your hair that earns another round of laughter from Nayeon.

Finally, that last embarrassment inflicted, Aunt Kim elects to leave you in peace.

After months of waiting, the culmination of all your fantasies is … a conversation. About nothing. About everything. About your job as an editor at a K-Pop news / blog site and how the recent schedule change left you saddled with a writer who’d recently gotten in trouble for “not including all the members when describing a group’s latest comeback” or something. About her job as an idol and the years of struggle and the stress of debuting and her relationships with her members and fan interactions and on and on and on.

It’s the most mundane human experience you’ve ever had, but it’s warm. It lasts from your usual arrival time until Nayeon’s usual time of departure, yet time seems to pass by in an instant. It’s nothing you would have expected yet everything you could possibly ask for, like a waking dream. It’s almost unfathomable how much you enjoy yourself.

It also has to end.

“Hey,” Nayeon says suddenly, allowing her voice to soften. “The shop’s closing soon.”

“Oh, right,” you say, feeling your smile fade for the first time in hours.

“We should, uh …”

“Yeah, let’s—”

“Yeah.”

The dusty old chairs creak against the stained floorboards of the shop as you both slowly slide them back, hoping that your sluggish movements will elongate this experience. Each of you bids farewell to Aunt Kim in your own special way, then turn to depart. And as you open the door for her and the brisk evening wind leaves you scrambling for the right words, it’s Nayeon who finds her courage first.

“We’ll be performing next Saturday,” she begins, speaking just loud enough for her words to reach your ears before the cruel winds can whisk them away. “I understand if you’re busy, but—”

“I’ll be there.”

And just as the door closes and you put forth your promise, the jingle of the bells and Nayeon’s relieved laughter join in harmony, creating a melody that wraps itself around you and promises to protect you from the cold.

“I haven’t even told you where it is yet!” she exclaims, meeting your eyes once more.

“Then I should probably give you my number, no?” you counter, holding her gaze as she looks back with the softest eyes and warmest smile.

“That sounds like a great idea,” Nayeon says, eagerly pulling out her phone and handing it to you.

You quickly punch in the digits and hand it back to her, earning a frown in response.

“What is it?”

“You still haven’t told me your name.”

So, you tell her. And she repeats it back to you. And it’s no surprise that the sound of your name in her mouth is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard. And you’re still reeling from that when she texts you, “Hi it’s me!🐇”. And when you finally manage to tear your eyes from the screen, you’re met with the sight of her meekly looking down at the sidewalk below.

“Hey,” you say softly, giving her a moment to meet your eyes before opening your arms. “You—”

Your words don’t even have a chance to be whisked away by the cruel winds before Nayeon darts over and crashes into your chest, driving the air from your lungs as she wraps her arms around you. Instinctually, you wrap your own arms around her, holding her close and refusing to let go.

“Stay warm, okay?” you whisper, only for her ears.

“I think I’ll be just fine,” she whispers back, just as softly.

And it’s hard when you two untangle yourselves. And it’s harder to say goodbye. And it’s nearly impossible to turn away. But it’s easy to turn back and look at her. And you see Nayeon walking, no, almost skipping away down the sidewalk. And you know that the months-long wait was worth it. And the next ten days will feel like a decade.

But that’ll be worth the wait too.

tick…

tock…

tick…

tock…

This time, you know exactly how long it’s been. You’ve checked the clock every hour of the past ten days, desperately awaiting the chance to see her again. Absolutely dreading the thought of seeing her again.

Your anxiety certainly isn’t helped by the sea of lightsticks and legions of chanting fans wielding them. Amidst this squall of rabid passion, you can’t help but feel underprepared. You can’t help but feel nervous. You can’t help but feel insignificant.

Fortunately, by the time you’re able to make your way up closer to the front, the performances have started and begun to wash away some of that negativity. You lose yourself in the stages, showing support to these young adults, these kids, who’re giving everything they have to try and achieve their dreams. It really is an enjoyable way to spend an afternoon.

Yet your throat still dries up when you hear them announce who’s performing next. All of a sudden, the room floods, dragging you under; the blood rushes in, waves deafening you.

tick…

They come out on stage.

tock…

Your eyes can’t look anywhere else.

tick… tock…

“Nana” says something that you can’t hear.

tick…tock…

They get in position. tick..tock..tick.. They begin. ticktockticktockticktocktick

And then, just like that, it’s over. The performance ends and the group bids the crowd farewell, leaving you with far fewer thoughts than you anticipated but far more emotions than you’re prepared for. At the forefront of your mind, a singular idea, the catalyst of the storm, reverberates incessantly with a single realization.

Nayeon’s eyes didn't meet yours a single time throughout the whole performance, yet she spent the entire time smiling brighter than you’ve ever seen.

You somehow manage to stumble through the crowd, moving towards an exit as they roar in excitement at the announcement of the next performers, a group you’ve followed since debut and one you like quite a lot. A group that doesn’t matter.

It’s only once you get outside, once you’re able to take a moment amidst the early evening air, that your breathing begins to slow. It’s there that the blood pumping in your ears begins to settle. It’s there that the vibration on your leg nearly makes you jump out of your skin. But once you nail the three-point landing, you pull out your phone and read the new message:

Nayeon 🐇 (6:02pm): Hey, were you able to make it? I just peeked my head out but couldn’t find you anywhere.

You (6:03pm): I did! Sorry, I just stepped outside after watching your performance, needed some air

You (6:03pm): You guys were great!

Nayeon🐇 (6:03pm): Awww, thanks so much!!

Nayeon🐇 (6:03pm): You should come around the back, I wanna introduce you to everyone!

Nayeon🐇 (6:04pm): Meet me at door E35, I’ll let you in

You (6:06pm): Sure, I’m on my way

You hit send, finally responding after needing a minute to calm the upswell of sanguine tides that continue to thrash within. Your steps are heavy, echoing loudly throughout the packed parking lot and even louder in your mind as you begin discerning which feelings surround this storm’s catalyst.

The unfamiliar feeling doesn’t remind you of the anxiety you’ve faced before, nor does it remind you of the self-doubt you’ve suffered in your past. No, when you round the corner to see Nayeon’s head poking out the door, looking for you, and you hear the crowd’s thunderous applause, you know exactly which ugly emotion torments you. And despite having no right to feel the way you do, you know that jealousy gnaws at your core.

So, when Nayeon turns and locks eyes with you, you hope your smile shows delight, not despair. And while you don’t quite match the radiance of her reaction, you’re inviting enough for her to throw open the door and begin dashing towards you. Fortunately, your limbs seem to have higher priorities than jealousy, as you too begin closing the distance and opening your arms, meeting her halfway and tightly wrapping your arms around her as she does the same to you.

Your ability to string together sentences escapes you as you hold her close, feeling her heartbeat hammer against your chest at as rapid a pace as your own.

“We should do this more often,” Nayeon murmurs into your chest.

“I mean, sure, I’d be happy to come support your group any time I’m not—”

“No, not that!” she exclaims, giggling slightly as she pulls away just enough to look up at you. “I mean this.”

And she pulls you in even tighter, leaving you short of breath in more ways than one.

“But also, thank you for coming to see us perform. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.”

“Of course,” you say, heart penning your words before your brain can intervene. “Anything for you.”

“Anything?” Nayeon asks incredulously, finally breaking the hug as the mischievous glint in her eye returns. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“I stand by my word,” you respond, acting far more confidently than you truly feel. “Besides, how dangerous could you possibly be?”

“Are you looking to find out?” she asks, smiling deviously as you see the turning gears in her head shift into overdrive.

“Maybe one day,” you say with a shrug. “Must admit, it’s not high on my list of priorities though.”

“Oh yeah? What’s number one?”

“Why spoil the surprise? Gotta keep you coming back somehow.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise as Nayeon scoffs in response. “Yeah, like that’s a concern.”

“I, uh, thanks?” you sputter, unable to do anything further as the mechanisms of your mind malfunction.

“Oh!” she exclaims, face alight with merriment and mischief alike. “You are in danger.”

All you can do is shrug. Why try to hide what you both know to be true? Why not join her in laughter instead?

“Hey,” you say a few seconds later as you catch a brief glimpse of your breath in the air. “We should get you inside, it's too cold for you to be out here in a sleeveless top and those ‘shorts’.”

“What do you mean?” Nayeon asks incredulously. “I think my stylist absolutely nailed it today.”

“Yeah, like anything you wear could look bad,” you scoff. “I'm just worried about you turning into a popsicle.”

“Oh? I guess I'll just have to find someone to keep me warm,” she drawls as she walks back to the door. “You wouldn't mind, would you?”

“Of course not.”

“Of course not,” she repeats, flashing the smallest of smirks your way before turning back and stepping up to the door. “Anything for me, right?”

“I mean …” you begin to say. Unfortunately, your train of thought is brought to a screeching halt by the rather rude sound of the unmoving door handle within Nayeon’s grasp.

“Wonderful,” Nayeon says, exasperation coating her words as she runs her fingers through her hair. “And on the one day I forgot to charge my phone too.”

“You can borrow mine,” you offer, reaching into your pocket and holding it out to her. “Can you call someone inside who can open it?”

“Yes, I can!” she says, eagerly accepting your offer and taking your phone. “Give me a second, I'll see if Wooyeon's willing to help.”

A few moments later, after she's punched in the numbers and the phone's begun to ring, she looks up with that same cheeky smile she wears so frequently around you.

“Guess you're stuck with me a bit longer,” she dramatically declares.

“Woe is me,” you respond in kind, pressing the back of your hand to your forehead like you're about to faint.

Nayeon opens her mouth to fire back, but her reply is superseded by a muffled, vaguely familiar voice emanating out from the speaker.

“Hey, it's me,” she remarks casually, as if calling someone from a random number is a totally normal thing to do. “I need—”

She stops mid-sentence, seemingly allowing the person on the other end to voice their apparently substantial list of frustrations at Nayeon.

“Yeah, I, uh, sorry about slipping away like that,” Nayeon replies sheepishly as her cheeks flare in an entirely new way. “It's a very long story that I very much don't want to get into tonight, but can you please come open door E35? I might have locked myself out.”

It's a tense few moments of silence before Nayeon gets a response. What you assume to merely be a few words at most still manages to shock Nayeon, leaving her wide eyed as she responds, “That's a lot to ask for just—”

Her words are suddenly cut off by what you assume to be Wooyeon's response, causing Nayeon to roll her eyes in resignation before responding, “Okay! Sure, fine. Both rooms, before the performance on Wednesday. Got it.”

“Alright, see you soon,” she continues. “And Wooyeon? Thank you.”

“Here, thanks for letting me borrow that,” Nayeon says, handing you back your phone.

“Of course,” you respond. “What were you two arguing about?”

“Honestly it was more bargaining than arguing,” Nayeon groans, throwing her head back in frustration. “A trade I horribly lost, mind you. Apparently in her mind, a three-minute walk is worth me having to clean both bedrooms at the dorms.”

“That seems … harsh,” you say, earning a shrug in response.

The silence goes unbroken for a minute. Then another. But when it's finally broken, it's not by words, but the chattering of teeth. Hers.

Fortunately, your movements are so instinctual that by the time your brain has even begun to consider overthinking things, you've already taken off your jacket and wrapped it around her. Nayeon’s shivering swiftly slows, but you leave your arm wrapped around her. Just in case.

tick…

tock…

It ends up being ten minutes, not three, that you share in silence. Not that either of you notice or care.

As soon as you hear the handle begin to turn, you immediately pull away, earning the smallest of whines from Nayeon before she too hears the door opening and turns towards it.

“There you are!” both girls exclaim as you see one of the other members from the earlier performance poke her head out.

“What took you so long?” Nayeon asks. “I thought it'd take four minutes max to find us.”

“Listen, we can discuss whether or not I got lost once you get inside,” Wooyeon huffs in response. “Come on, it's freezing out here!”

“You're telling me,” you mutter, causing Nayeon to quietly chuckle as she looks up at you with wide, apology-filled eyes.

You both follow Wooyeon inside, where Nayeon introduces you to one another and informs Wooyeon that she had invited you. After an exchange of slightly awkward bows, Wooyeon speaks up.

“Okay, so this story involves you and a guy, alone, in the middle of a parking lot on a dark and stormy evening? I don't care how long it is, you're telling me everything.”

“I … fine. We can talk on the drive back,” Nayeon begrudgingly accepts.

“Good. Speaking of, we should head back. Now, preferably. They're probably waiting on us,” Wooyeon says, shooting you a sympathetic glance.

“Hey, it's alright,” you tell Nayeon as she turns to look at you. “I'm just glad I got to see you. The performance and everything else were just icing on the cake.”

“Everything else, huh?” Wooyeon asks, seemingly more invested suddenly. “How late is this story going to keep me up?”

“Oh relax,” Nayeon scoffs, shaking her head at Wooyeon's instigation attempts.

“But seriously,” she says to you. “Thanks for being understanding.”

“Also, thanks for this,” Nayeon continues, smirking at you as she points to your jacket.

“Of course,” you immediately respond. “Anything for you.”

You watch as Nayeon’s cheeky expression morphs into confusion, like your response was outside the rules of the game you’re both playing.

“I, uh, thanks?” she sputters. But that confusion doesn't last, and a warm smile is quick to replace it.

“Here then,” she murmurs, closing the distance between you two quicker than you're able to respond. “This is for you.”

And there's a lot of small details that you'll forget in hindsight. Like the way Nayeon stands up on her tiptoes, or how she tilts her head just the slightest bit, or even the glittery eyeshadow that gleams in the light. But there's one detail you'll remember. Because you'll never forget the feeling of her soft lips against your cheek.

You can't help but hate the moment she pulls away. But when she locks eyes with you, you're brave enough to hope that you'll feel that sensation again.

“Bye,” she whispers.

“Bye.”

“...”

“Bye?” Wooyeon says, offering you a slightly awkward wave as you turn to face her.

You look back to Nayeon, and neither of you can help but laugh at Wooyeon's shell-shocked expression. One theatrical sigh and an eye roll later, Wooyeon turns and begins to walk away.

“Bye Wooyeon!” you call out at the retreating form. “Hopefully next time we meet, it'll be a little more normal!”

“Hard not to be!” she calls back, earning another duet of laughter from you and Nayeon.

“I should probably follow her,” Nayeon says. “We're performing Wednesday night, so I guess I'll see you at the shop on Thursday? Unless you—”

“I'll be there,” you say, fighting back the jealous feelings that surge up at the thought of her performing again.

“You're the best,” she says, throwing her arms around you for the briefest of moments before turning and hurriedly following Wooyeon. “I'll text you the location!”

“Sounds good, see you there!” you call out in response. You can't help but feel glued to the floor as you watch her walk away, remaining motionless until she rounds a corner and leaves you alone in the hallway.

An odd mix of emotions twirls around your mind as you depart the building. Many of them, the vast majority even, are undeniably positive. But voices, ones eerily similar to those found in the fanchants from earlier, echo in the back of your mind and entrench those unshakable feelings of jealousy.

But even as the bus takes you away and you pray to reach home before the rain begins to fall, you know that this inner storm isn't one you can outrun.

tick…

tock…

tick…

tock…

You hope that you’re as good at hiding your emotions as you think you are. Because the way you feel when you’re with Nayeon, your friend, when you’re both excitedly talking a little louder than you should be and occasionally have to pause the conversation to apologize to the other customers nearby, it’s euphoric. It’s exhilarating. It’s everything you could have ever dreamed of and more.

And it could not be more different than the way you feel when you’re with “Nana”, the idol. Because you should still feel that euphoria, that elation. You have no reason not to, especially since Nayeon acts the same way, even going so far as to find time somewhere in her crazy schedule when you two can meet. The joy you find in those moments should be enough. But your jealousy proves gluttonous, leaving you with an awful feeling in the pit of your stomach that grows harder to ignore. It’s inescapable. It’s everything you can’t control threatening to take away everything you hold dear.

And you haven’t the slightest fucking clue what to do.

Unfortunately, the tempest doesn’t give you much time to find a solution before boiling over. It’s only a couple of weeks and a handful of performances later when Nayeon pulls you into a small alcove hidden amongst the towers of sound equipment and piles of wires. Almost immediately, she begins sharing a story about a fan interaction, further fanning the flames of the ugly side of your emotions.

It’s not long before you’re overwhelmed by the turbulent emotions within. Nayeon’s in the middle of a sentence when you lean in, cupping her cheek in one hand as you press your lips against hers. You kiss her gently at first, but after her initial shock, she begins to kiss you back. Firmly. Insistently. You let the sounds of the nearby stage abate, allowing yourself to instead lose yourself in the only senses that matter right now.

Like how the smell of her conditioner reminds you of coconuts and cherry blossoms. Or how she tastes sweeter than honey. Or how her lips are somehow softer than clouds.

You pull away only once oxygen deprivation forces you to, leaving you both staring at each other as you desperately attempt to catch your breath.

“I’m so sorry,” you say as soon as you’re able to. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Don’t you dare apologize,” Nayeon interjects. “Shut up and kiss me again.”

This time, she catches you off-guard as she leans in, pulling your head down slightly as she kisses you with as much intensity as before, if not more. You’re more than willing to match her zeal, eliciting murmurs of satisfaction and small gasps for air from her as you battle back and forth.

It’s intense. It’s electrifying. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted and—

“There you are—oh!”

You and Nayeon hastily separate and turn to face the unexpected spectator, finding none other than poor Wooyeon and her shell-shocked expression awaiting you once again.

“Wooyeon?! I, you, we, uh …” Nana says, trailing off mid-sentence as she steps away from you and attempts the futile task of trying to return her hair to some semblance of normalcy.

“We have to figure out a better way for you to introduce me to your friends,” you tell Nana, earning a stare of disbelief from her and an unexpected bit of melodious laughter from Wooyeon.

“You seriously do!” Wooyeon exclaims, fanning her face in an attempt to disperse the crimson flooding her cheeks. “Honestly, I hate that they keep sending me to find you two, why can't it be Sora getting traumatized for once?”

“Because they know you're way too good at finding things for your own good, especially us apparently,” Nayeon says, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration.

“Oh, don't worry! I won't tell …” Wooyeon trails off for a moment, looking at Nayeon slyly. “Too many people.”

“Hey!” Nayeon exclaims. “Be careful what you wish for, I'm sure plenty of people would be interested in my stories about you.”

“That wasn't what I'd hoped to hear, but you can write me an apology later,” Wooyeon fires back, turning her head away from Nayeon to hide the red that refuses to leave her cheeks. “I hate to do this again, but we really do need to get going.”

Nayeon's indignation seems to flare even further as she steps closer to Wooyeon, but you can't help but chuckle at the image of the shorter Nayeon attempting to intimidate the much taller Wooyeon. Nayeon spares a moment to glare at you before turning back to Wooyeon and saying, “Listen, I'm sure we can—”

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” you interject. “I’m sure we’ll have time to talk later, right Nayeon?”

“Oh sure, I’m positive that she’ll have plenty of time for a lovely conversation later,” Wooyeon comments, earning a glare from Nayeon that’d likely be scathing if not for the obvious embarrassment coloring her countenance.

“Hey, not so loud!” you jest, smiling just as wide as Wooyeon. “Seriously though, I really am sorry Wooyeon. I’ll make it up to you sometime, hopefully next time I see you. Surely next time we meet it’ll be more normal, right? Surely?”

“Suuurrrelyyyy,” Wooyeon responds, stringing out the single word just long enough to fit every emotion other than sincerity into its delivery. She takes the opportunity to step away from Nayeon, who seems temporarily frozen between states of frustration, embarrassment, and something else entirely.

“Hey, no worries,” you gently tell Nayeon, taking her hands in your own and turning her to face you. “Your members need you.”

“Besides, you should probably go willingly before Wooyeon drags you back, kicking and screaming the whole way,” you joke, smiling as Wooyeon grins and hums in agreement.

“Surely you wouldn't do that to me, right Wooyeon?” Nayeon asks, turning and pouting at her in an exaggeratedly cute manner.

“The option's never been more tempting,” Wooyeon replies, sticking out her tongue in response.

“Okay okay fine, I surrender,” Nayeon tells her, raising her hands in a manner all too familiar to you before turning back to you. “I'll see you Saturday?”

“Wouldn't miss it for anything,” you tell Nayeon, pulling her into a tight hug that finally dispels the vast amount of tension she'd built up in such a short time.

“Neither would I,” Nayeon murmurs back before pulling away just enough to capture your lips one final time.

“Alright, let's go,” Nayeon tells Wooyeon, interlocking arms with her as they begin to walk away.

“So, for the first part of my apology, I want …” Wooyeon's voice trails off as they walk out of earshot. But you remain in place, watching their retreating forms until they leave your field of view. And then perhaps a minute longer, just in case.

But eventually, you also turn away and begin your departure. The only topic on your mind as you walk, ride the bus, and then walk again on your journey to reach your home is the storm of emotions within. On the one hand, it gave you the confidence to act in a way you wouldn't have been willing to normally, leading to an amazing and memorable moment. But on the other hand, you can't shake the feeling that this upswell wasn't the final manifestation of these detrimental feelings. All you can do is hope that if they do flare again, that night won’t be memorable for all the wrong reasons.

tick…

tock…

As you walk alongside Nayeon, you can’t help but marvel at how normal this new norm feels. Even just a few weeks ago, you would have desperately lunged at the chance to see Nayeon a single time, but now, seeing her multiple times a week feels routine. Normal. Unremarkable?

Definitely not unremarkable, as the memory of your arms wrapped around her waist and her lips pressed against your own is just as vivid as it felt in that moment a few nights ago. Even the restlessness of flaking on the group’s performance for the first time last night feels insignificant in comparison to the contentment you feel right now.

Which is why it’s so jarring when you’re met by a “CLOSED” sign on the shop’s door for the first time ever.

“‘Apologies for the sudden closure’,” you read aloud. “‘We’re visiting family this weekend and will be closed for the next couple of days.’”

“‘We’ll be open once again on Monday. We hope to see you then!’” Nana concludes. “I mean, I hope she has a nice time, but what do we do now?”

“I mean, I’m sure we can find somewhere else that sounds good. There are a couple places nearby that I usually order delivery from,” you offer.

“Wait, isn’t your place nearby?” she asks, earning a nod in response. “Why don’t we just pick something up on the way and eat there? We could watch a movie too, it’ll be fun!”

“Wait wait wait,” you say, mind reeling at the implications. “Did you just invite yourself into my apartment?”

“Yep!” Nayeon announces, shame nowhere to be found within that radiant smile. “Now figure out which chicken place you want to order from and let’s go!”

All you can do is laugh at the absurdity of the situation as you pull out your phone and do as she asks. After a few minutes of walking and a quick stop to pick up food, you arrive at your apartment. Your one-bedroom apartment might pale in comparison to some of the more upscale living areas in Seoul, but you genuinely appreciate the place you call your home, and you show it to Nayeon with pride. After a brief tour, you both unpack the large assortment of dishes that usually accompany any Korean meal and begin your dinner.

“How was your performance last night?” you ask her, forcing yourself to smile even as the initial hints of your jealousy begin to stir.

“It went well, thank you!” Nayeon responds, smiling softly at you. “The fan turnout was amazing, so it was super easy to enjoy performing for them. What about you, how was your night?”

“Pretty good, thank you for asking,” you say, attempting to match the warmth of her smile but unable to due to the ice in your heart. “It was a pretty unremarkable evening in general, but I did appreciate the chance to catch up on some much-needed sleep.”

“That’s good to hear! I missed having you there, but I’m glad you were able to rest.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry for not being there to support you, but at least Wooyeon got to enjoy a night where she didn’t have to hunt us down.”

“She actually told me that she was sad you weren’t there! She said on the ride over that she was sure last night was going to be your guys’ first ‘normal’ conversation.”

“Really? That’s unfortunate, hopefully it’ll happen next time I see her.”

“Hopefully!” Nayeon agrees, and you both go back to enjoying your dinner.

A few minutes later, once you’ve both finished and cleared away the table, you pull out your favorite oversized blanket and lounge on the couch, inviting Nayeon to join you. She’s more than happy to oblige, taking the remote from you and immediately pulling up some recently released horror sequel. You can’t help but voice your surprise, but your concerns are swiftly and eagerly shut down as she gets up and begins messing with the light switches, trying different combinations in an attempt to properly set the mood. Once she finally achieves her desired lighting, she hops back onto the couch, pulling the blanket over herself and laying against your side.

As she snuggles in closer, you do your best to relax and simply enjoy the experience. And, if nothing else, the experience is certainly entertaining, as Nayeon seems to be terrified of the jump scares that seem to occur every couple of minutes. Yet despite her screams, she refuses every time you ask if she wants to watch something else, insisting that she’s having a great time. Well, for the first hour at least.

“Can I ask you something?” Nayeon says suddenly as she pauses the movie.

“Of course,” you say, your mind flooding with concerns and thoughts of worst-case outcomes.

“Is everything alright?” she asks, sitting up and turning to face you.

“Like, right now? Couldn’t be better,” you respond, fighting through your concern as you offer a strained smile.

“Mostly just in general, but you don’t seem relaxed even now, despite the fact that we’re under this stupidly soft blanket on this insanely comfy couch,” Nayeon says, smiling for a moment before her expression shifts back to seriousness. “But honestly, you’ve seemed kinda off for a while. It's not all the time, but often enough for me to be concerned. Is there something you want to talk about?”

“No, it’s okay, I—” You stop yourself, searching through the dark and finding nothing but obvious care and trust in her eyes. So, knowing you can do better, you start over.

“I’m not going to lie to you. I promise I won’t. So, yeah, there’s something that’s bothering me, but it’s … hard to explain. I don’t want to hide anything from you—and I promise I will tell you, but I don’t know the words to tell you what I want to say right now. Can I ask you to be patient with me, just for a little bit?”

“Okay,” she says, visible concern on her face as she nods. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“Thank you, I really appreciate it,” you say, awkwardly turning back to the TV.

You’re unable to focus on the rest of the movie, deafened by the silence between you two and shivering from a coldness unrelated to the setting sun. Even once it’s over and Nayeon gets ready to leave, neither of you are able to put on a convincing enough performance to hide your emotions. You exchange awkward goodbyes, waving farewell instead of hugging like you’ve always done as she walks away.

Thus, it’s anything but surprising when, mere hours later, the girl of your dreams becomes the subject of your nightmares. Spectral visions of her pained expression haunt you as the thoughts of causing her stress, pain, and suffering bind and isolate you. You swear you can hear the haunted cackling of the manifestations of anxiety and jealousy in your mind as they cast a spotlight on your inability to quell the storm. And as the nightmare begins to fade and you feel yourself being dragged away from her, you finally get it.

As soon as you awaken, unsurprisingly covered in sweat, you immediately grab your phone and begin composing a series of messages. Because you refuse to let your selfishness hurt someone else, especially Nayeon.

You (5:01am): Hey, I’m so, so sorry about last night, especially how it ended

You (5:01am): There’s somewhere I’d love to show you, it’s a private place where we should be able to spend some time together and talk

You (5:01am): If you have an afternoon free sometime soon, please let me know

You (5:02am): Thanks so much

Between the restless night and the anxiety of hoping for a response, the miserable day you end up having is anything but a surprise. You check your phone at every available opportunity, but the response you're hoping for never arrives.

It isn't until after you return home, when you're sitting alone in the stale air of your frigid, empty apartment that Nayeon answers.

Nayeon🐇 (5:01pm): Hey, I'm so sorry for taking so long to respond, there were a lot of things I ended up needing to take care of today

Nayeon🐇 (5:01pm): Does tomorrow work? I'm sorry if it's sooner than you were expecting …

You (5:02pm): No, that would actually be perfect! Thank you so much, I'll send you the address

You press send, feeling a great weight lifted off your shoulders as you confirm the location and time with her. Unfortunately, just as you feel yourself begin to relax, your mind begins compiling a list of the things you’ll need for tomorrow.

So, once again, you bundle up and step outside to face the harsh winds. But this time, as the grocery store comes into view, you're eager to brave the storm. Because you know what's waiting for you on the other side.

tick…

tock…

Noon. The brightest point of the day. A time of warmth. An important part of any day for a multitude of reasons. Specifically, the most important part of today because it's when you plan to meet Nayeon.

You scramble onto the bus just in time, sighing in relief as you check the clock and see that you’re scheduled to arrive a bit early, just as you’d hoped. So, with a bit of free time during the thirty-eight-minute journey awaiting you, you first check all your belongings, happily confirming that nothing's been lost in transit. You look out the window, frowning slightly at the clouds slowly rolling across the sky, blocking out the clear sky you'd hoped would be the backdrop to this crucial day. You cast that aside, choosing instead to focus on what you can control. Like what exactly you want to say to her. How you want to convey your feelings to her.

Is this a confession? A request? An invitation? A farewell? No, you know it's definitely not a farewell. But you still don't know what exactly you want to tell her.

Actually, that's not entirely true either, because when you’re with her, you can't help but want to talk to her about anything and everything. But just for today, you hope that you can be greedy. You hope that you'll somehow find the exact words you need to convey how you feel. The exact words she needs to hear. The exact words that'll help you solve this problem. The exact words she wants to hear. The exact words that'll steal her heart.

A familiar little robotic voice echoes throughout the bus, informing you that you’ve arrived. You gather up your blanket, basket, and jacket, then exit the bus and turn to walk towards your destination.

As you slip your sunglasses on, you look around, smiling slightly at the memories resurfacing at the sight of so many familiar shops from your past. You see the pet store where you cried because your mom wouldn't buy you a chinchilla for your fifth birthday. You see the small ice cream shop where you celebrated your first soccer tournament victory with your friends. You see the hair salon where the stylist always teased you for growing out your hair over your ears as a teenager.

And when you turn the corner, you see the bridge where you had your first kiss. There, standing alone, a familiar flash of gold hides beneath a cap and scarf, and the sight of her finally makes you see the truth. Waiting for you atop that bridge, you see your first love.

“Of course.”

Your knuckles whiten as they tightly grip the wooden handle of the basket. You feel your legs attempt to lock up, but you force yourself to break free of anxiety's cold grip and begin to close the distance. You barely make it onto the small bridge before she perks up at the sound of your footsteps and turns to face you.

“Hey, I'm so sorry for making you wait, I tried to be here as soon as—”

“No, no, don’t worry about it,” Nayeon says, lips upturned in a hint of a smile. “I’m used to being the first one to arrive and I only got here a couple minutes ago.”

You both pause for a moment, an uncharacteristically awkward silence filling the air between you two as you both search for the right thing to say.

“Thanks for inviting me here,” Nayeon says after a few moments. “I've never been to this neighborhood before.”

“No, thank you for being willing to come, especially so soon!” you quickly respond. “I’m sorry for being vague about it earlier, but this is actually where I grew up.”

“Oh really?” Nayeon asks, looking around with a renewed interest. “I'm sure you have so many stories to tell about this place!”

“Something like that,” you say meekly, looking down at the sidewalk. Where you remember standing as you kissed your first crush so many years ago. Where you remember standing as your tears hit the pavement when that same girl said goodbye for the last time. Where you stand now, hoping that you can convince the best thing that's ever happened to you to stay.

“Well then, where are we going?” Nayeon asks. “Don't tell me you're going to ask me to cheat on Aunt Kim by going to another noodle shop!”

“Of course not!” you exclaim, feeling your vigor return as you laugh with her.

“That's probably for the best. I don't suppose it's that ice cream store either?” Nayeon asks excitedly.

“Maybe after,” you say, chuckling at her dramatic pout.

“I did come with a plan for lunch,” you continue, holding up the basket and showing it to her.

“Oh, that's amazing!” Nayeon exclaims, finally closing the distance between you two and hugging you tightly. “You're the cutest!”

You're initially baffled by Nayeon, who's so much shorter than you, calling you cute, but you're more than willing to bite back your response and simply hold her close. After a minute or so, you force yourself to pull away.

“Alright, so where are we going?” Nayeon asks as her eyes eagerly explore the area.

“It's about a fifteen-minute walk from here, maybe twenty if you want me to act as a tour guide.”

“I'm in no rush when I'm with you,” Nayeon immediately responds. “Tell me everything.”

After taking a second to make sure your heart hasn’t overloaded, you extend your hand to her. “Alright, but only because it's you. Follow me.”

Nayeon happily obliges, and with her hand in yours, you begin the journey upstream through the sands of time. You spend the first few minutes of the walk pointing out the local stores and restaurants that you fondly remember, initially avoiding any mention of places associated with less flattering memories. But as you continue on and grow more comfortable, you begin to share all of the most memorable pieces of your past, much to the delight of Nayeon, who's happy to laugh with and at you as you tell her about the defining moments of your childhood.

After roughly ten minutes, you come to a stop, staring up at one tall, gray building in particular amongst the half-dozen duplicates in the area.

“What about this place?” Nayeon asks, noticing your hesitation.

“This is … the place I grew up,” you explain. “My parents and I lived in this apartment building until I graduated high school and went off to college.”

“Oh, so this was your home?”

“You could say that, but I don't think of it that way. This is the place where I lived, but it isn't the place where I made the most memories.”

“Hmm, I think I understand. Did you have a place you'd call your home instead?”

“I did,” you confirm, gripping her hand tighter. “We're going there now.”

You continue on, allowing the air to grow quiet as you walk under the canopy of trees hanging over the path between two streets. After a few minutes of this comfortable contemplation, you speak up.

“I know this is gonna sound weird but hear me out.”

“That's certainly one way to start a conversation,” Nayeon jokes, squeezing your hand slightly. “But sure, I'm listening.”

“I really appreciate how easy it is to just … enjoy being with you,” you explain. “How you make me feel comfortable even when we're being quiet, because just being together is enough.”

“Uh huh. And you wanted to convey this to me by breaking the silence to do so?”

“Listen, I … yeah, I guess so. I just wanted to let you know how you make me feel. I'm far from the best with words, as I'm sure you've noticed.”

“I might have,” she jokes, pulling herself closer against your side. “But I don't think you give yourself enough credit.”

“Oh? Why do you say that?”

“Because I already knew you felt that way,” Nayeon says, looking up at you with bright eyes and a brighter smile. “And because I feel the same way too.”

You share a few more minutes of soft silence as you walk along the road, traveling under the canopy until it parts and you see the clouds above. A couple of streets and turns later, you arrive at your destination.

“This is the park where I used to play soccer,” you explain. “To your right is where I scored a goal to win a tournament match, and if you look wayyy in the back left, you can see where I made an opponent so angry, he shoved me to the ground and nearly broke my wrist.”

“Oh wow!” Nayeon exclaims, covering her mouth as a snippet of laughter threatens to escape. “You must have a lot of fond memories of this place.”

“Yeah …” you say, trailing off as you cast your mind back to those times ten, fifteen years ago. “I made a lot of friends—and enemies—on these fields.”

“Do you still keep in touch with many of them? Your friends, not your enemies,” she clarifies.

“No, almost none of either group actually,” you admit. “It gets hard when people move away and college or work takes over your life. I make sure to stay in contact with one, my best friend from those times, but even that’s a bit of a struggle. I haven’t seen him in who knows how many years, just talked with him online.”

“I—wow…” Nayeon says, eyes sweeping the empty grass that you’ll always remember as full of life. “I can’t even imagine being separated from Wooyeon.”

“Well, it’s probably different when you see each other, what, 350 days out of the year?” you point out.

“That’s fair,” she admits, finally releasing that pent-up chuckle. “Thank you for showing me this, I’m sure it means a lot to you.”

“Of course,” you say, offering her a smile. “Now I want to show you the place that became my home.”

“Then let’s go!” Nayeon announces, returning your smile and allowing you to lead her across the expanse that seemed endless when you were younger.

Eventually, you reach a small chain link fence, which you follow until you’re met with the familiar sight of a rusted gate with a faded combination lock.

“Let’s hope they haven’t changed this,” you say, mostly to yourself, as you input the code: 090301.

To your great joy—and mild surprise—it unlatches, allowing you to open the gate and lead Nayeon inside. Within, you easily navigate through the branches and brush, memories coming back in a rush as you delve deeper and deeper. After about a minute, you arrive, pulling back a branch and allowing Nayeon to pass by you into the small clearing. Surrounded on all sides by trees, a pair of smooth, plateau-like rocks sit a couple meters from a softly flowing creek, granting you both the solitude that this private sanctum had always blessed you with.

“This is it,” you explain, nearly whispering the words as Nayeon takes in the scene. “This was … everything, really. This is where I came when I needed to think, needed to decompress, or … needed to know what I needed, I guess.”

“This is incredible!” Nayeon says, eyes wide as she frenetically scours every centimeter of the area, committing it to memory. “How did you even find this place?”

“Everyone I’ve ever brought here has asked me that exact question,” you say, a sentimental smile spreading across your face. “But I’ll tell you the same thing I told the other two; I feel like it honestly found me. I just … went out looking for a sign of something on a night where I needed direction and found myself here.”

“This is actually the first time I’ve come here since moving away for college,” you continue. “It’s crazy how as much as things change, they stay the same.”

“I guess so …” Nayeon says, trailing off before turning and meeting your eyes. “Thank you for bringing me here. I can tell this place holds a special place in your heart and I deeply appreciate you sharing it with me.”

“Of course,” you say after a moment, struggling to formulate words under the intensity of her gaze. “You hold a special place in my heart too, so I appreciate you trusting me and coming here with me.”

Nayeon is content to let her smile be her response, so you lay out the blanket across the smooth rocks and take a seat on one, gesturing towards the other. “Come on, let’s talk.”

“Talk?” she asks, implication obvious in her voice as her eyes harden.

“Talk,” you confirm with a nod.

“Okay,” Nayeon whispers, barely loud enough for you to hear above your pounding heartbeat as she takes a seat beside you. She shakes her hands like they’ve gone numb, then continues, “Please, tell me what’s going on. Everything that’s going on.”

“Nayeon, I want to make sure you know something, something very important,” you tell her, earning a nod in response. “I care about you. So much. Maybe too much. I know I haven’t been returning the warmth that you’ve shared with me, and for that, I am so sorry.”

You pause, release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, and deeply inhale before continuing, “It’s just—sometimes when I’m with you, negative emotions start building up inside me that feel like a storm threatening to pull me under. Sometimes, I can’t help but feel jealous when I see you on stage or when you talk about your fans, because it feels like there’s so many of them and I’m just … me. I feel like they’ve known you longer, seen more of you, and that you can’t help but prioritize them because your job depends on it. I know I shouldn’t feel this way, and I know that it’s selfish.”

You force yourself to stop and look at her. She sits patiently, listening attentively as she nods once again, waiting for you to continue. So, you do. “I want you to know, more than anything else, that none of this is your fault. And I am so, so sorry for putting you in this position. But after you asked me if everything was alright, I knew that I couldn’t hide it from you any longer. I knew that if I kept this inside, it would boil over and end up hurting you in the process. And I can’t allow that to happen—I can’t let you get hurt because of how I feel—but I can’t walk away without telling you the truth. And I know I have no right to do this to you and I understand if you’re upset and if you want me to leave I—”

“Hey, hey, listen to me,” Nayeon says softly, cupping your face in her ever so delicate hands. “Thank you, so much, for telling me this. I don’t and won’t ever blame you for feeling those kinds of feelings. I wish I could tell you that I understand and that everything will be alright, but I can't. Honestly, I probably won’t ever truly be able to.”

“But I need you to trust me when I tell you that you mean everything to me,” she continues. “And I need you to trust me when I tell you I’m willing to face this problem as long as it’s by your side. And when I say that we can get through this, together, I mean it with every fiber of my being and all of my heart. All I can ask is that you put your faith in me, in yourself, and most importantly, in us. Can you do that for me?”

“Just like that?” you ask, dumbfounded. “I’m being completely unfair, presenting you with this problem, and you’re somehow still willing to give me more support?”

“For you? Absolutely,” she responds resolutely. “I don’t know if I’d ever be able to piece my heart back together if you broke it by leaving.”

“Then yes, I—Yes,” you declare, placing your hands on hers and holding them tightly. “Absolutely, I can. I will. I promise.”

She beams with joy, immediately responding, “Anything for me, right?”

You gently pull her hands away from your face, interweaving your fingers with hers as you tell her, “Of course Nana, it’s always been you. You’ve been the only thing that matters to me since the moment I saw you. It’s always been you and always will be.”

You watch as her eyes go wide. “You’ve never called me that before.”

“I guess so …” you say, trailing off as the realization hits you too. “I’m sorry if you’d—“

You stop yourself as Nana untangles her fingers from yours in an instant, wrapping her arms around you and squeezing you so tightly that it’s nearly impossible to continue.

“Please say something,” you manage to get out, chuckling awkwardly. “I kinda just poured my heart and soul out to you and I’d really appreciate you sharing your thoughts.”

“My arms are getting tired from how tightly I’m hugging you and you still need me to tell you what I’m thinking?” Nana scoffs, nuzzling into your chest and refusing to let go.

“Fair point,” you admit, contentedly wrapping your arms around her, though nowhere near as tightly as she’s hugging you. “Thank you, Nana.”

“For what? The hug?” she asks, somehow squeezing you even tighter.

“I mean, yes, the hug is amazing, but that isn’t what I meant,” you choke out. “For being so good to me. From that first day we met all the way until today, I feel like I’ve been the one with the problem and you’ve been the one with the solution.”

“Maybe, but that won’t always be the case,” Nana responds, loosening her hold on you just enough to allow you to breathe again. “And if a storm comes and attempts to drag me under, I like to believe you’ll be there, holding on for dear life and refusing to let go.”

You don’t even try to respond verbally, instead releasing your hold on her and using your newly free hand to cup her chin. As your thumb slowly traces patterns across the soft skin of her cheek, the rest of your body closes what little distance remains between you, allowing you to brush the faintest of kisses onto her lips. You kiss her gently, tenderly, barely making any contact as your lips land on hers and then depart before she can kiss you back. You repeat these featherlight flits over and over again, attempting to convey all the feelings you’ve left unsaid. And finally, when she tightens her hold on you and mewls in frustration, you fervently capture her lips and refuse to be the one who pulls away.

Your conviction ends up just barely lasting long enough for Nana to pull away first, but the light-headedness and dizziness that blocks your view of the only thing you want to be seeing right now is a powerful reminder that oxygen is, in fact, important. For a short while, the sound of both of you panting is the only sensation that keeps you tethered to consciousness. But eventually, when you manage to part the darkness and open your eyes, you’re met with the sight of Nana, her chest expanding and contracting just as rapidly as yours as you both amend your oxygen deficits. And if her smudged lipstick, flushed face, and wild, wide eyes staring into yours are any indication, you’re fairly confident she’s satisfied with your response.

“So … lunch?”

“Just like that?” she asks, dumbfounded. “You literally take my breath away and that’s all you have to say?”

“Oh, I did have something else!” you remark, acting far more nonchalantly than you feel. “I love you, Nana.”

It can’t be instantaneous. But you don’t quite know how it happens either. Your heart skips a beat when you see a blur of motion in your periphery, then you blink and you’re on the ground with Nana holding you down. Somewhere around the second or third second of Nana kissing you, it finally connects in your mind. She actually just tackled you off the rock.

“I—love—you—too,” Nana tells you, whispering each word into your ear in the moments between her own featherlight kisses. Your heart soars at her reciprocation of your feelings, and as soon as she decides the time for words is over, you’re more than happy to oblige. She melts into you as you wrap your arms around her back and return her kiss, matching her fervor and maybe even exceeding it. You both know to pull away much sooner than you did last time, respecting the harsh lesson your bodies had given you.

“You know, a little warning would be nice,” you tease, smiling up at her.

“You’re one to talk!” Nana exclaims, hitting your chest with one small hand as she fans her crimson visage with the other. “Don’t you know that it’s downright irresponsible to just drop something on me like that?”

“To be fair, I was under the impression that we both expected you to be the responsible one here,” you say, bringing out your puppy eyes and painting faux innocence across every centimeter of your face.

“I … you … ugh!” she grumbles, a rainbow of emotions flashing across her face before she finally leans away from you. “Yes dear, lunch sounds wonderful.”

It’s right then when you realize another thing that makes Nana special. She makes your cheeks hurt with how much you smile around her. And even minutes later, after you’ve both gotten up, unpacked the basket, and you’ve both begun to eat the home cooked meals out of the little plastic containers they’re stored in, the smile she so easily coaxes out of you hasn’t left your face.

“I didn’t get to say it earlier after you blindsided me, but thank you too,” Nana says midway through your meal.

“Blindsided is a bit rich coming from you, the only person here who literally tackled the other, but I digress,” you respond, smiling warmly at her amused smirk. “What for?”

“For being my friend,” she says, turning away from you and staring into the woods. “It’s … hard to make friends as an idol. There are so many expectations for how we’re meant to behave and we’re often too busy to really spend time with others. I really appreciate your willingness to be flexible and even come to our performances, especially now that I know how it was affecting you …”

“Of course, I’m always happy to be flexible, it’s for you,” you tell her, taking her hand in yours. “Even if you’re only able to spare a few minutes after each performance, I’m sure we could make it work.”

“But it doesn’t have to only be then, that’s not fair to either of us,” she says, squeezing your hand back. “Days like this are worth clearing my schedule for.”

“Wait, you cleared your schedule for today? To see me? Yesterday? Before you even knew if I was available?” you ask, receiving a quartet of nods in response.

“That’s why I took so long to respond yesterday, I was running around taking care of all my responsibilities in the dorm and doing the choreography practice I’d planned to do today,” Nana explains. “I trusted that you’d make it work. When I saw your text that early in the morning, I figured that you hadn’t been able to sleep either.”

“Wow … I … didn’t even realize … thank you for doing so much for me,” you say, idly tracing circles against the back of her hand. “But truly, I am always happy to see you, regardless of time or circumstance. I’m really looking forward to seeing you perform in the future; it’ll be nice to be able to really enjoy you doing what you love without jealousy blinding me.”

“That’s great to hear!” she responds, turning back and smiling at you. “You taking the time to come see us means so much to me … the first thing I do whenever I get on stage is find you in the crowd.”

“Oh, I—oh. Thank you,” you say, grateful that you manage to reply before those words join the rest in vacating your mind.

“Of course!” Nana responds, smiling warmly at you before you both return to your lunch. After you both finish your meals, you look up to the sky, grimacing as you see the consolidation of the clouds as they blot out the sun.

“Hey, Nana,” you say, pointing up to the sky as she turns to you. “We should definitely get going before we end up stuck in the rain.”

“Okay,” she says, nodding resolutely. “Let’s get packed up and go.”

You both work together in harmony, loading the containers back into the basket in a fraction of the time it took to unload them. You take her hand once more, hastily leading her along the trails and roads you've traversed alone countless times.

“We might have to skip the ice cream today,” you tell Nana as you both quickly walk down the streets that house so many memories.

“Oh no! I guess you'll just have to make it up to me later …” Nana responds, smiling in understanding.

A minute or so later, just as the first few drops of rain begin to fall like your tears that night on the bridge, you arrive at the bus stop.

“This is where I need to get on the bus,” you say to Nana. “Where are you going, can I call you a taxi? Were you intending on someone picking you up? What's the plan?”

Nana smiles in a very particular way, the same way she always seems to smile whenever she realizes that she knows something you don't. “I'm going wherever you're going. That's been my plan for a long, long time now.”

You're grateful for the rain, as the sounds of its fall are the only sounds to be found in the seconds that pass before you're able to respond. You wrap your jacket around her shoulders, sheltering her from the cold as you stare directly into her eyes and tell her, “I … I don't know what I did to deserve the trust you put in me, but I'm incredibly grateful for it. I promise you that I will never take it for granted. I promise you, with every fiber of my being and all of my heart, that I will never break that trust.”

“I know,” Nana responds, her whispered words bouncing between the raindrops before barely reaching your ears. “You showed me your heart today, the least I can do is give you mine.”

You pull Nana close and gently rest your forehead against hers. Each falling raindrop and each flowing teardrop helps you paint the picture, telling her the thousands of words you can’t verbalize but need her to know. In this shared moment, as echoes of your past remind you of those sorrowful tears shed so many years ago, your joyful ones return you to the present and the gift in your arms. So, at least in this moment, you hold Nana tight, vowing to never let her go.

You pull away only when the bus arrives a few minutes later but remain hand in hand as you walk forward. After stepping on, paying for both of your fares, and finding a pair of seats, you pull out a pair of earbuds and offer Nana one. She's more than happy to accept, and as she rests her head on your shoulder and you queue up a series of serene love songs from your favorite artists, you hope their words can do a better job of telling Nana how much you love her.

tick…

tock…

“We're here,” you whisper to Nana, gently shaking her awake. “Just take my hand, I'll lead you home.”

“Okay,” she murmurs, interweaving her fingers with yours and following you through the bus, down the steps, and into the monsoon that immediately jolts her back into consciousness.

“Oookaaayyyy, I'm up!” Nana declares, pulling your jacket tight against her small frame. “Lead the way, I don't think these pants are gonna do much against a storm like this!”

You take off immediately, leading her as quickly as you can down the sidewalks before eventually stopping at an interaction where you ask her, “But really, why does it always seem like your outfits are in no way at all suited to the weather?”

“Because my outfit looks cute!” Nana exclaims indignantly. “And you of all people should be glad that’s my priority!”

“Of course, you're right,” you respond, kissing her on the nose in apology. “Then again, I'm convinced you'd make anything look good, but I do genuinely appreciate that you care and that you put thought into your outfits. It makes me feel special.”

The crosswalk finally flashes green, and you take off once again, leading Nana towards your apartment as she scolds you. “Seriously, you can't just keep saying things like that so casually! There are at least four heartwarming things in that statement that make me want to kiss you, but your question was so stupid that I still kinda want to slap you! And this stupid rain isn’t helping anything at all! And I’m cold! Ugh!”

You're grateful that you're ahead of Nana, because you know that if she sees the goofy smile on your face, you'll be in big trouble. “Okay dear, I'm sorry I made you feel that way,” you respond, speaking in the most soothing tone possible. “We’re almost to my apartment, where it’ll be n-nice and warm, and w-we’ll make everything better. I p-promise.”

Neither of you speak another word for the remainder of your mad dash, too busy fighting off the shivers to do so. After a few more minutes, you arrive back at your home, where you tear the key from your pocket, hurriedly unlock the door, and shepherd her inside.

“O-Okay, I’m g-going to start the sh-shower f-for you and g-grab a dry set of clothes for y-you to change into, please f-feel free to d-discard that j-jacket l-literally anywhere,” you manage to tell Nana, taking off as she begins to do as you request.

You fight off the shivers as you quickly dash around your apartment, flipping the shower on and grabbing yourself a towel before darting into your bedroom and grabbing some dry clothes for both of you, then returning to Nana.

“Okay, t-the shower should b-b-be nice and h-hot, and there’s a c-clean towel in t-t-there y-you can u-use,” you stammer as you round the corner. “H-Here’s something t-to … change … into …”

Your voice escapes you as you see her, back turned as she watches the rain mercilessly paint the cobblestone. You first see the soaked cotton of her top and how it shakes as her small figure shivers in the cold. But that isn’t what catches your eye and leaves you dizzy. It’s the way her pants have tightened, showcasing the sculpted definition of her thighs and how they flow upwards to display the perfectly round curve of her ass.

As she turns, you force yourself to pull your gaze upwards, feeling your face flush as your pulse continues to quicken. You drag your eyes up her body, past her toned stomach that hides beneath the sopping garments, past her pert breasts and stiff nipples that strain against the soaked fabric, past her shaking shoulders and kissable neck and diamond jawline and roseate lips and adorable nose until finally you meet those chocolate eyes that stare back at you.

“T-Thank you s-s-soooo m-much,” Nana responds, fighting off her own shivers as she takes the clothes from you, then darts off towards the warmth awaiting her, leaving you frozen in more ways than one.

You do your best to ignore how difficult it is to remove your soaked pants, especially as they cling to your skin and especially because of your hardening erection that’s impossible to miss. After removing all of your drenched attire and placing the dripping bundle alongside the jacket you loaned Nana, you attempt to dry yourself off, saturating the towel with frigid water far quicker than you’d hoped you would. Once you’re sure that you’ve gotten your money’s worth, you add the towel to the pile in the sink, then put on the pajamas you’d grabbed and turn up the thermostat to its highest setting.

Once you're confident that you’ve done all you can, you collapse, couch creaking in protest at the impact. In this moment to breathe, the events of the day begin to hit you, flashing across your mind in sync with the droplets of rain against your window. You think of all the places that defined your childhood. You think of faces long forgotten. You think of faces you’ll never forget. You think of echoes. You think of her atop that bridge. You think of her atop that bridge. You think of all the words that escaped your lips. You think of Nana’s small hands lifting the weight of the world off your shoulders. You think of her body on top of yours as she pinned you down with kisses. You think of her body. You think of the cold. You think of heat. You think of your soaked clothes clinging to your skin. You think of Nana’s soaked clothes clinging to her skin. You think of Nana, dripping wet. You think of Nana, dripping wet.

As you stare out the window, your mind vaguely registers the sound of a hair dryer. But soon even that sense joins the others, consumed with the thoughts of Nana. One storm for another. You’re not even sure if the words escape your lips.

The door opens, and you get up to face Nana. She’s radiant, each strand of gold and each centimeter of porcelain glowing in the dim light of your apartment. She’s wearing glasses. She’s wearing your favorite shirt. She’s wearing nothing else.

“Hey,” she whispers, somehow slotting seventy emotions into that single syllable as it floats over to you.

You've always viewed Nana as pretty. She's always been cute. She'll never not be beautiful. But as you fight off the arctic chill that permeates your bones, you realize you've never looked at her this way. You can't help but notice how hot she is. You see Nana as sexy for the first time.

“Hey,” she calls again, tilting her head and leaning to the side. It’s unfair, the way she sinks against the doorframe. It’s immoral, the way she makes herself look even smaller as she hides in the folds of your shirt. It’s incomprehensible, the way the wide rims of her glasses make her pleading eyes look even bigger. It’s criminal, the way she hides her intent behind that innocent smile.

“Are you just gonna sit there with your jaw on the floor for the rest of the night, or are you going to say something?”

“N-Nana, if you could s-see what I see, y-you’d be speechless t-too,” you manage to get out, unable to suppress the shivers as you respond.

“Well, you could walk into the bathroom that I might have sorta turned into a sauna,” Nana offers, the smallest of smiles beginning to show.

“Or …” she continues, taking her time as she closes the distance between you two. “I could warm you up …”

Your arms wrap around her instinctually as she presses her body against you. You can feel the sculpted frame hidden beneath the oversized shirt. You can feel the tension. You can feel the heat. And as your eyes drift down to her lips, you can feel your reservations flying out the window to join the falling rain.

You kiss her. Gently. Delicately. And she shoves you backwards onto the couch.

“Absolutely not,” Nana declares, climbing into your lap. She wraps her arms around your neck, licking her lips hungrily before pulling you close. Within a second of her claiming your lips with her own and beginning to grind against your lower half, any questions you might have had join your reservations on the pavement outside. You match her intensity, running your tongue along her lips patiently, then expectantly, and claim her mouth as soon as she lets you in. Your hands roam, dragging your fingers like ice cubes across her hips and down her thighs as she hisses into your mouth.

You work your way up her body, past her waistline and under your her shirt. You travel further, past the lean abs she’s worked so hard to sculpt, across the ridges and valleys of her expanding and contracting rib cage, all the way until the tips of your fingers brush the sensitive underside of her breasts. The whimper that escapes her mouth into yours is immediate. It’s needy. It’s pathetic. It’s the hottest sound you’ve ever heard.

The soft, malleable skin becomes a pair of perfect handfuls as you explore the fringes of Nana’s breasts, sending sparks through her synapses and shockwaves down her spine. You break away from her kiss, just for a moment, just long enough to watch her collapse onto you as you finally knead her swollen nipples between your fingers. You take the opportunity to access the curve of her neck, mentally noting where earns the loudest moans as you suck, kiss, and nip the sensitive skin.

“Look at you, so desperate,” you whisper into her ear, grinding your hips against hers and forcing her to moan. “I’ve barely even touched you, but somehow you’re even more drenched than earlier.”

“And you know what’s the worst part?” you murmur, stretching a single second across the tension before continuing. “That’s nothing compared to what you’re doing to me. I’ve never been so hard in my fucking life.”

“You—you’re—OH!!!”

You know what you’re doing when you latch onto that particular spot on the base of her neck; that her response is going to be lost, lost in the sound of her moan echoing against your walls. But you also know what she wanted to verbalize, what her body has been telling you as it tenses up even further. So, when you feel her shaking, on the precipice, you’re more than willing to lend a hand. You’re happy to detach from her breast, brushing against her sensitive folds with the back of your hand. And so, when you’re kind enough to simply graze her clit with an icy fingernail, you also make sure to hold her as she comes undone.

The first orgasm you give Nana is a cinematic experience, with a soundtrack of the most ungodly of moans alongside her quivering limbs and the deathly grip on your shoulders as if you’re the only thing keeping her afloat. You gently trace circles along her back, whispering sweet nothings into her ear and holding her as she rides out the high. You wait, long after the quivering has ceased and she’s unclenched her hands, long enough for her to meet your eyes and show you that the fog has lifted.

“Hey,” you murmur, goofy grin growing wider as you see her eyes flash with outrage.

“You can’t keep doing this!” Nana exclaims, huffing in frustration when all you have to offer is your gleaming smile. “You can’t just blow my mind and change my life and end it with a ‘Hey’!”

“Who said that was the end?” you ask, humor discarded as your tone drops. “You did what you said you would, now we’re both hot and bothered.” You look into her eyes, see the recognition and excitement. Then, you see the desire reignite as you thrust upwards, teasing her sex with only a bit of friction. “What are you going to do about it?”

Nana meets the challenge with equal passion, whispering into your ear, “I’m going to show you a side of me that no one has ever seen before.”

Having adequately spiked your blood pressure, Nana climbs off you, moving with idol-like grace as she sashays towards your bedroom door. Having reached the end of the runway, she turns, throwing off her shirt and modeling her pristine form for you. She’s divine. You somehow tear your eyes away from her flawless figure, staring instead into her molten eyes. She captures her bottom lip between her teeth, slowly dragging them across the soft, pink skin before twisting her innocuous expression into one of sinister glee. She’s sin incarnate.

Then, she’s gone, retreated back into your bedroom. You’re off the couch in a blur, flinging off your shirt and pajama bottoms, discarding the soaked pieces of clothing as they join the rest. You round the corner, entering your bedroom, and you have to pinch yourself to make sure you aren’t dreaming.

You’ve seen Nana dozens of times at this point, seen her in outfits ranging from luxury goods to school uniforms to casual attire to athletic wear. You’ve seen her when doted on by professional stylists, just after a dance practice, and everywhere in-between. But when you see her here, in your bed, wearing nothing but a smile and absolutely glistening in anticipation, you swear your heart stops.

You climb onto the bed; you climb on top of her. You kiss her. Not lightly, not lustfully, but lovingly. And when she kisses you back, you feel that exact same longing. Despite the sincerity in the kiss, you don’t feel the heat in the room diminish at all. No, you just realize it’s everburning.

You pull away. Barely. Just enough room for words. Just far enough to see her eyes.

“No interruptions this time, it's just you and me,” you murmur, causing her to shudder in anticipation right up until a thunderclap echoes throughout the apartment and makes you both jump.

“We really need to work on our timing, don’t we?” Nana jokes, harmonious laughter escaping her as you see her anticipation, affection, and arousal merge, forming the euphoric expression she wears earnestly.

“Yeah, so maybe one interruption,” you say, laughing along with her until her mess of giggles comes to an end.

“But you are mine, Nana,” you whisper, your hot breath inflaming her senses as each syllable reaches her ears. “I am yours, and tonight belongs to no one else. Just us. Tonight is ours.”

“Perfect,” she whispers back, that single word a lit match she drops directly into your heart. “What now?”

“Show me,” you say, rolling you both and flipping your positions so she’s atop you. You give her control. Earnestly. You give her your trust. Easily. You give her your all. You give her everything.

When she takes your length in her hand, giving you your first hints of pleasure, you groan in relief. When she lines you up with her entrance and drips arousal onto your tip, you inhale through your teeth, hissing as if you’d been burned. And when she lowers herself onto you and takes you inside her, it literally takes your breath away.

“Fuuuck…” Nana hisses, sending your heart rate into the stratosphere. “It feels … so … fucking … amazing …”

“You’re incredible Nana,” you growl through gritted teeth, hands latching onto her hips and gripping tighter than you probably should. But any expectation of you being perfectly in control of yourself is entirely unreasonable when she’s moving like this, taking you deeper and deeper into her warmth at an agonizingly slow pace. You can’t help it; her face, her body, the way she quivers - you can’t tear your eyes away, not when you see the beads of sweat splattered across her furrowed brow. Not when you can practically hear the grinding of her tensed jaw. And certainly not when her closed eyelids hide those rich chocolate eyes.

“Take your time,” you whisper soothingly. “No need to rush, I’ll stay here forever as long as it’s with you.” You see some of the tension evaporate from her shoulders, but that does nothing for the vice grip she still has around your cock. Her progress accelerates slightly, taking on more and more of you with each passing moment before finally, finally your hips collide.

“There we go,” Nana mumbles, reopening her eyes and regaining a bit of that hubris you’ve come to know and … like. Having finally reached her destination, you can see the gears turning in Nana’s head as she starts to experiment, rolling her hips against yours and exploring all the possible sensations she can experience. One particular angle catches you off guard, causes you to moan even louder than before. You see it in her eyes, see how they immediately ignite. She repeats the motion, ripping another of those moans from deep within your chest as you see that gleefully sinister smile return.

The image of Nana bouncing up and down on your cock is obscene yet puts all other art to shame with its beauty. You simultaneously appreciate and despise her dancing background as she moves with unyielding precision. She places her hands on your shoulders as she continues exploring, utilizing her flexibility and strength to adjust her position and flex her muscles in ways you’d never thought possible, much less experienced.

“Oh my god Nana …” Your words trail off, lost to the pleasures of her latest findings, but they fan the flames all the same.

“Tell me how good that feels,” Nana purrs, punctuating her point by sliding herself back down onto the base of your cock. Then again. And again. And again.

“It feels so—FUCK!—ing good,” you manage to choke out, throwing your head back in pleasure. Almost instantly, Nana grabs you by the chin, pulling you forward and making it impossible to look anywhere else.

“Don’t you dare look anywhere else,” she growls, sending a new sensation down your spine as her ceaseless riding continues to chip away at your sanity. “Tell me how I make you feel.”

“You—ugh!” Words escape you, your mind unable to comprehend things other than pleasure and pain and Nana. Your grip tightens, tight enough to bruise, as you desperately try to cling to something, anything. “You feel amazing.”

“What else?” Nana asks, picking up the pace.

“You drive me insane,” you tell her, sparing her hips further punishment as you focus on her breasts once again.

“Tell me more,” she demands, riding you even faster.

“You’re unbelievable!” you yell, mustering what little oxygen remains as you match her volume.

“More.” Even faster.

“You’re perfect,” you say, voice dropping as her pitch rises.

“More!” Faster.

“I love how you make me feel.” Even quieter.

“More, more!!” she demands greedily, hips bouncing at a delirious pace as her face tenses once more.

“I love you Nana,” you whisper sweetly. But you refuse to let the sentiment disrupt the moment, following her hips up as you thrust into her and throw off her rhythm. “Cum for me.”

“FUCK—”

Nana somehow manages the impossible, staring through you with misty eyes as she succumbs to pleasure, drenching your lower half and the sheets below in her nectar as her orgasm violently overtakes her. It takes everything you have to remain motionless, cock painfully throbbing as you try not to overwhelm her. Each of you experiences the seconds as if they were lifetimes, you on the verge of pleasure and her well over the edge of it.

“You didn’t cum?” Nana asks, shifting slightly in your lap and forcing you to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from exploding inside her right then. She raises herself off of you, maintaining eye contact the entire time she moves away and positions herself between your legs. As she leans forward, opening her mouth and letting her warm breaths torment your torturously erect shaft further, she has the audacity to wink at you.

“Time to change that.”

The sight of her fucking tongue teasing the sensitive skin of your cock all the way from base to head is ungodly, and you know immediately, no camera flash required, that this image will be burned into your mind for all eternity. It’s almost demeaning how casually she destroys you, idly wrapping her fingers around your shaft as her tongue begins to swirl around the head of your cock. “Fucking hell Nana …”

If your words affect her, she’s doing a damned good job hiding it, drooling unapologetically all over the fingers that twist and pump your shaft, priming it as her mouth continues to work its way further and further down. And all the while, the entire time she molds you to her desires like putty in her hands, she holds your eyes. Lovingly. Expectantly. Enticingly.

“I’m close …” You try to warn her, but her hum in response sends an all-new type of shock all the way down your shaft, cutting off any further waste of oxygen. Your hands tangle into your sheets, threatening to shred them in your grip as you fight to keep the desire to let loose and absolutely defile her throat. “I’m gonna—”

Nana ignores your words, listening to the signs of your body as she delicately unwraps her small hand from around your shaft. The faintest flicker of disappointment flashes in the back of your mind, but it’s immediately eradicated as Nana forces herself downwards, catching you completely off-guard as she takes you into her throat, consuming you entirely.

“NANA!!” She rips her name out from deep within you, sending you soaring over the edge of orgasm as you are unmade by pleasure. Your body tenses and contracts, overwhelming pleasure pulsating from head to toe and every centimeter in between. Wave after wave after wave after wave of your cum fires into her mouth, but you’re unable to bear witness as your eyelids shield you from the unholy sight. It’s so much, so fast, that it drives you to the perfect intersection of pain and pleasure, leaving you unable to do anything but feel.

Eventually, your orgasm comes to an end, as all things must. The first thing you do is open your eyes to see Nana, mouth still snugly around your cock as she swallows the last of drops of your deluge. The second thing you do is remember to breathe. You watch as she detaches herself from your cock, then joins you, for the second time today, in an agonizing minute of shaking shoulders and heaving chests as you both attempt to force enough oxygen into your lungs to be able to speak. Fortunately, you’re both able to. You just happen to do so first.

“So … dinner? Or are you good … after …”

“I’m actually going to murder you,” she mutters, and you don’t even try to stop the laughter that forces its way out.

“You know, I was going to be upset at you for the whole ‘not maintaining eye contact’ thing,” Nana says with a smile of her own, climbing up the bed to lay against your side. “But considering I’m the one that made you nearly black out, I’ll give you a pass this time.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” you offer, smiling sheepishly as you wrap an arm around her. “But you were—”

“Yeah, uh …” she interjects, trailing off as her rapid pulse quickly delivers a crimson flush to her cheeks. “I don’t know … it was just really nice—and really hot—to hear you say those things about me.”

“Any time,” you say as you lean in, gently kissing her on the crown of her head. “By the way, did you … I didn’t really see …”

“Oh, this?” Nana asks, opening her mouth wide to show you the tongue and walls, unbesmirched by white. “I’m sure you agree that was pretty hot, but I guess that means you don’t wanna—”

You roll over slightly, propping yourself up on your elbows as you climb over her once more, leaning down and cutting her sentence short as you capture her lips. A small squeak of surprise escapes before she matches your passion, wrapping her arms around your neck as your tongues begin to dance. As the intensity rises your heartbeat follows suit, sending blood all throughout your body and especially one place in particular.

“Not done, huh?” Nana murmurs, capturing your bottom lip between her teeth and gently sucking on it as she looks at you with her seductress’ gaze.

“For you? Never,” you murmur back, intent and invitation clear in your eyes.

“We’ll have to test that sometime …” Nana responds, mirth and mischief manifesting in her smile as she releases your lip. “For now though … show me.”

The kiss you leave on her lips is fleeting, acting more as a palate cleanser than any declaration or escalation. You grab a pillow with one hand, lifting Nana up with the other and placing it under the small of her back as you set the stage. With a bit of additional leverage gained and anticipation built, you line yourself up with her entrance, looking to Nana who nods in confirmation as you enter her once again.

You push further into her slowly, eager to reach the previous round’s intensity but mindful of her pleasure as her tightness suffocates your shaft. Ravenous for more, you lean in, greeted by the mixed scents of coconuts and cherry blossoms and sweat and everything else about her that makes your head spin. You’re quick to attack her neck again, latching onto one of the many spots you noted earlier and sucking relentlessly.

“Wait wait wait, no marks!” Nana exclaims, placing her hands on your shoulders and pushing you away from your target.

“I’m so sorry, I should have—” Your apology grinds to a halt as Nana, sinful gaze meeting your own, delicately lays a single finger against your lips.

“No … visible marks,” she clarifies, smirking seductively as she lowers her arms and offers you free reign once more.

You’re more than happy to seize the opportunity, capturing one of her nipples between your teeth and beginning your oral assault as you suck, swirl, and tease her with your tongue. One hand begins exploring her body, creating only the tiniest bit of contact as it glides over each area of her flawless skin, searching for unexpected pleasure points anywhere you can reach.

“Be vocal,” you murmur, breath rolling like fog over her breast. “I want nothing more than to know every single spot on your body that drives you wild.”

You see out of the corner of your eyes Nana opening her mouth, as if to respond, but as your hips collide once more and you fully bury your length inside of her, a deep, heady moan bulldozes through her best laid plans and tears free instead. As you begin to thrust faster, deeper, you sink your other hand below her waistline, searching only a moment before finding the sensitive bud of her clit and adding it to your list of ministrations.

“Tell me Nana, tell me what feels good,” you say, soothing voice a stark contrast to the frenetic pace at which you chase her pleasure.

“Your fucking mouth, I love how you suck on my—ugh!” Another day, you’d feel cruel for cutting her off so rudely, but honestly, who could blame you for doing what she asks? “And the way you feel inside me, thrusting in so deep …” This time, it’s a sharp intake of air, but you’re happy to earn another moan as you thrust deep inside her again. Then again, for good measure. One more time. “And I love the way you … with your hand … on my thigh … yesssss …” You’ll have to make a special note for that one, apparently figure eights are the best pattern to trace along the inside of her thighs. Who knew?

You get lost in the perfection that is Nana, thrusting wildly as you ride the high all the way up to the summit. You mar her flawless skin with marks of desire, leave little reminders of pleasure where no one else will see them. You feast on her skin, attempting to satiate a hunger you both know will never be sated. Your hands roam as well, acting with a mind of their own as one roams every uncharted inch of her skin while the other stays glued between her thighs, toying mercilessly with her most sensitive area. It’s plenty for you to keep track of, but if Nana’s reactions are anything to go by, it’s bordering on too much for her to handle.

Time’s a relative thing in general, but here, in the bedroom with Nana, there’s no eternity better spent. You chase your pleasures together, call and response, back and forth, her and you, united as one. You cherish the opportunity to care for Nana for once, bringing her pleasure in as many ways as possible. “Fuck!” You seek those profanities. “Oh god—” You crave those indecencies. “You’re gonna make me …” You hunt her peaks, and as she thrashes, shakes, quivers, and cries in your arms, you’re there to hold her the whole way down.

“Nana, I’m getting close,” you tell her, growing delirious as pleasure begins to overwhelm you. “Where—”

“I swear to god if you cum anywhere other than inside of me …” Nana threatens, though her glassy eyes and lolled tongue diminish the impact a bit.

You feel Nana’s legs wrap around your waist, pulling you in as her arms do the same. Her lips claim yours, capturing any senses that weren’t already completely overwhelmed by her and her alone. As you lean into her, tongues dancing as your body disconnects from your mind, pleasure shoots through your veins like a shot or seventy of adrenaline. If you were any more coherent, you might’ve been able to enjoy the details, like the way your cock’s twitching or the way Nana shudders slightly each time you fire another shot into her or the way you keep pumping, refusing to let any of your cum go anywhere but as deep as you can fuck it inside her. Unfortunately, all you experience is the taste of Nana on your lips and the red, foggy haze of rapture that permeates your fucking soul. Unlucky, really.

Your orgasm ends, eventually. You force yourself to pull away, force yourself to focus so that you can see the elated expression of a well-fucked Nana. There’s the faintest hint of tears in the corners of her eyes, each one earned at her own apex of pleasure. You withdraw further, pulling out of her fully, then lay beside her and pull her into your arms.

“Hey there beautiful, you alright?”

“Not the word I would use,” Nana murmurs into your chest. “We should get caught in the rain more often …”

Once again, quiet laughter escapes you, as it always seems to when you’re with Nana. “I’ll keep that in mind,” you promise. “In the meantime, we should probably get cleaned up and showered.”

“Not yet …” Nana groans, lightly smacking you like you’re an alarm clock disrupting her beauty sleep.

“Okay okay, no rush,” you respond, pulling her close and allowing the sounds of the gentle rain to fill the room. You treasure the tranquility, basking in the simple sensations of her hands in yours and her soft breaths against your chest. Many stanzas later, the storm’s song softens, then slowly comes to a close, but you stay there together, finding solace in each other’s embrace. Eventually, once Nana’s fully recovered, you get up to turn the shower on and begin grabbing things, giving her everything she needs: tissues, wipes, water, hugs, kisses, and your undivided attention.

“I know this is an incredibly egotistical question, but can you walk?” you ask, smiling sheepishly as she rolls her eyes. “Or do you want me to carry you?”

“Yes, I can, but carry me anyways,” Nana declares, throwing open her arms and waiting expectantly.

“As you wish,” you declare with a flourish, bowing deeply before scooping Nana into your arms and carrying her bridal style into the bathroom.

“Showering together?” she asks suggestively and shamelessly.

“Showering together,” you reply warmly, setting her down and testing the water. “Let me spoil you for a bit, no need to rush.”

“Very well,” she accepts, stepping into the shower. “Now hurry and get in here so I don’t have to warm you up all over again.”

“Yes ma’am,” you respond, climbing in after her. You’ve never been more grateful for your replacement shower head and its absurd water pressure, though you make sure to get close to Nana just in case.

Even as you two rinse yourselves off, you can’t help but be mesmerized by the water flowing down Nana’s perfect figure. You watch as the many drops coat each long strand of her flowing golden locks, run down each beautiful feature that comprises her face, then finally succumbs to gravity after tracing every last millimeter of her jawline. From there, you follow their journey as they land on her collarbone and continue on into sacred territory. Thousands of individual droplets gently caress the curvature of her breasts as they pass by, while thousands more race down the soft skin of the arms and hands that inspire so many fans to dream of their embrace. For those droplets lucky enough to remain attached after traveling past her abs and below her waist, a pair of gently toned legs defined by years upon years of dance await. Finally, between the pale skin of her inner thighs, the perfectly shaven holy place of indecent desires and fantasies awaits a lucky few. Lucky you.

“You’re staring again,” Nana says, breaking you out of your reverie as she smiles shyly.

“Nana, I absolutely am,” you admit freely, shamelessly. “You’re right here in front of me and I still can’t believe you’re real.”

“Oh, um … thanks,” Nana mumbles, turning away from you just as you see a familiar splash of crimson.

“You’re welcome, now hold still,” you tell her, grabbing a bottle of conditioner and squeezing some into your hand. “Let me wash your hair.”

“Oh! I mean, okay …”

You spread the viscous liquid across your hands, then begin massaging it into the many, many strands of gold that flow together and form her hair. “This conditioner worked wonderfully back when I had lighter highlights, so hopefully it should be fine for you too.”

You trail off, focusing on the task at hand and the silk between your fingertips, but you can’t help but add, “But I wouldn’t mind buying some of whatever you normally use and keeping it here … just in case.”

Nana turns back, glaring at you for a moment before allowing you to continue. “That’s a sentence with a whole lot of implications, but you’re cute so I’ll let you get away with it.”

“Good to know! I promise to not use that information responsibly,” you jest, grinning uncontrollably as Nana huffs in indignation. “Okay, let that sit for a couple minutes before rinsing it out.”

Nana turns, stepping closer to you and keeping her hair out of the waterflow as she does so. “Can I wash yours?”

“Of course,” you tell her, handing her the bottle before closing your eyes and leaning down to allow her easier access.

“Thank you …” she murmurs. After a few anticipatory moments in the dark, you feel her hands start working their way across your head, massaging you and coating your own strands in that same liquid that you apply on a daily basis, but have never experienced like this.

A whine slips past your lips as she finishes and pulls away, causing a score of giggles to emerge as you open your eyes to see the adorable, joyous expression of Nana’s smiling face. “So, what’s next?”

“I’m going to wash my body with this,” you tell her, holding up a bottle of body wash as you hand her a different one. “And you can wash yourself with that, because if I end up putting my hands all over your body, we’re never getting out of here.”

“You’re probably right,” Nana admits, mischief taking over her smile. “However …”

“You’re not the one paying the water bill, shush!” you exclaim, turning away and beginning to lather yourself up. Nana’s laughter rings out once more, reverberating off the tight walls of your shower as she too begins to wash herself of the improprieties that cover every centimeter of each of your bodies.

Somehow, you both manage to behave, rinsing yourselves off before getting out and toweling yourselves dry. Nana sits as you brush her hair like Rapunzel, blow drying it slowly as you meticulously work your way through her golden mane. It isn’t easy to find a comfortable set of clothes for her to wear, but with a pair of rolled pant legs and a hair-tied shirt, you’re able to make do. Together, you eagerly order delivery from your favorite chicken restaurant, and while you’re waiting, begin the process of cleaning up.

Nana helps you strip your sheets, the most traumatized victims of your shared endeavors, off your bed, then assists you in wrangling a new set onto the mattress. Your heart glows with warmth at how right it feels to perform such a mundane household activity with her, even as the fitted sheet snaps up once again and nearly hits you in the face. Nana’s laughter rings out first, but yours is close behind, warding off any frustration as you enjoy the little simplicities of spending time with her. You both clean up your kitchen, sending your soaked clothes to join your laundry as hers go into the wash, cleansing them of the rain’s influence as you both settle on the couch.

“I think that’s everything we needed to take care of,” you say, just as a thought crosses your mind. “Do we need to get you some—”

“Don’t worry, I’ve been taking precautions for a bit. You know, just in case,” Nana tells you, tone relaxed but eyes alight with mischief.

“You—what—just in case?!” you sputter. “Since when?!”

“That night Wooyeon walked in on us,” Nana remarks casually. “I wasn’t gonna let you kiss me like that without finishing the job.”

You’re frozen in silence, unsure whether to follow-up with confusion, accusations, questions, gratitude, or something else entirely, but the familiar cadence of the delivery man’s knocks on the door saves you from needing an answer. After enjoying your meals and making some light conversation, you both end up on your insanely comfy couch, curled up together under your stupidly soft blanket as Nana selects another movie, this time opting for a cheesy romance flick that she swears is different from the rest. Ultimately, she’s not wrong, as any experience shared with Nana ends up being far more enjoyable than the alternatives, and you end up enjoying yourself quite a bit. You lay with her, laugh with her, and hold her close as you wipe away her tears.

Enthralled by Nana and her investment in the movie, you barely even notice as the hours pass, the clouds dissipate, and the sun shines bright for a fleeting flash before disappearing below the skyline. It’s not until the movie finishes, fading to black for the final time, that you note the darkness that’s overtaken the world outside your little corner of paradise. After confirming with her other members that she’s free tomorrow, Nana joins you getting ready for bed.

“Here, this has barely been used,” you tell her, handing her a toothbrush and smiling as a thought enters your mind. “I guess I’ll just have to get you one of those too.”

“You just might have to,” Nana says, wide grin mirroring your own as you both begin your nightly routines.

A short while later, after locking up and killing all the lights, you join Nana in bed. It’s an odd sensation as you turn off your alarm clock, something you haven’t done in months, maybe even years, but when you see the weary eyes Nana’s fighting to keep open, you decide it’s for the best. You turn to her, exchanging good night’s and I love you’s before she closes in, kissing you tenderly before turning away and snuggling close against your body. You two form a perfect fit as you hold her, refusing to let go even as sleep overtakes you. Tonight, you have neither prayers nor requests, simply gratitude for the blessing in your arms. Tonight, you dream of neither girl nor ghost, simply a warm silence that wraps itself around you in a familiar embrace.

tick…

tock…

For once, for the first time in a long, long while, your awakening is not sudden, but serene. Your eyes slowly open, witnessing the twin golden glows that illuminate the tranquil space in their soft, mellow light. You’re forced to squint slightly at the brightness of the rays of light filtering through the window, but even the rising sun pales in comparison to the radiance resting within your embrace. Nana’s resting expression is one of bliss, subtle curves of a smile hidden at the edges of her lips even as she leisurely draws breath.

Somehow, sometime in the middle of the night, she seems to have interwoven your hand with hers, clutching it tightly against her breast as she lies dormant. You can’t help but feel, in this moment, it seems almost too perfect to be a dream. Like your mind wouldn’t even entertain this as achievable in a best-case scenario. Yet here you are, blessed beyond imagination.

You get an idea, hoping to surprise her with breakfast. You slowly, delicately attempt to remove your hand from hers, but are stopped suddenly as her grip tightens. “Stopppp …”

“You’re awake?” you ask in surprise.

“Of course, since before you woke up,” Nana murmurs, pulling you closer. “I just wanted you to hold me longer.”

“Nana, I …” Your words trail off, your mind unable to even form words as you try to comprehend how you could possibly deserve something this perfect. “Thank you … Are you hungry? I was going to go make breakfast—”

“Breakfast can wait,” Nana interjects, flipping over to face you as she snuggles in even closer. “Just stay with me, like this. Please.”

This time, at least, you know exactly what to say. “Of course, Nana. Anything for you.”

She remains silent, but the pounding of her heart tells you everything you’d ever need to know. You do as she asks, pulling the covers back over you as you wrap your arm around Nana, pulling her closer as you plant a gentle kiss atop her head. Somewhere, deep in the back of your mind, you know that the clock ticks ever onwards. But as you look down and see the little smile that only you seem to bring out of Nana, you realize there’s no better way to spend an eternity than moments like this with the one you love. You’ll stay. Forever, if she wants. And with the way she clings to you, like you’re the only thing keeping her on Earth instead of up with the other angels, you trust that she’ll stay too. Maybe even forever.

tick…

tock…

tick…

tock…

“So, is hugging a common thing with you? Like, do you greet everyone you meet by trying to break their ribs?”

“Are you complaining about my hugs?!” Nana gasps, unwrapping her arms from around you and pulling away.

“No, absolutely not!” you exclaim, nearly tripping over your words as they leave your mouth at the speed of light. “I’m just curious, okay? It seems like a big thing with you.”

“Fine, I’ll answer your ridiculous question,” Nana says, retaking your arm. “I occasionally give hugs to people I’m close to. I often hug those I care about most. I always hug you.”

“Oh,” you manage to say. Your curiosity sated; you allow the comfortable silence to return. As you two walk together, you marvel at the vibrant streets, delighted in the changing of the seasons as spring brings its warmth to what was a desolate Korean winter wasteland.

Unfortunately, a single dark shop stands out amongst the rows of brightly lit stores that litter both sides of the street. Your destination, Aunt Kim’s noodle shop, seems empty.

“Oh no, it’s closed! If only someone had an apartment nearby where we could spend the evening instead,” Nana announces dramatically, looking up at you and waggling her eyebrows shamelessly.

“If only,” you say, tugging her along. “Let’s go see if she left a note saying when she’ll be back.”

“‘Closed this evening for a special occasion’,” Nana reads aloud. “‘Will return to normal business tomorrow.’ That’s strange, I wonder what’s so important that she was willing to close the shop.”

“Strange indeed,” you agree, searching around in your pocket for a moment before pulling out a key. “Wanna find out?”

Before she even has the chance to respond, you unlock the door, pushing it open and holding it for her as you invite her in.

“Give me a sec!” you call out, venturing into the darkness as she follows you inside.

“What? How did you …” Nana trails off, covering her eyes as you flip the switch and restore light to the establishment. Within, two steaming bowls wait upon a small table near the left corner of the store; upon “your” table, the one where you two have always sat over the past couple of months, the one with the edge broken off, the one that’s imperfect, but that’s okay, because nothing is. Well, except Nana.

“No but really, what is going on?” Nana asks, walking as if in a daze as she joins you at the table.

“I wanted to do something nice for you for your birthday,” you explain, pulling out the chair for her. “I thought it’d be nice to have the place to ourselves for once, and Aunt Kim was kind enough to agree. She seemed more than willing to help out, probably because of our … ahem, ‘generous contributions’ to the store.”

“Ah, I see,” Nana chuckles, smiling brightly. “Thank you, but you really didn’t have to do all this …”

“Maybe,” you admit with a shrug. “But for you, I’d do anything. This is the first time I’ve gotten to do something sweet for you, just let me spoil you for one night.”

“Alright, fine,” Nana says, huffing in mock exasperation. “Then let’s eat!”

You both eagerly dig in, savoring the familiar tastes of your favorite meals. Unsurprisingly, even as the flavors dance along your tastebuds, the sight of Nana in front of you is all that matters. Even with her golden color replaced by a dark chocolate brown, her radiant visage shines under the warm amber glow of the Edison bulbs above. You lose yourself in the sight of her, food long forgotten until her voice brings you back to reality.

“This is soooooooooo good, did you make this?”

“Oh, gods no,” you exclaim, earning a laugh from each of you. “Aunt Kim was kind enough to make it just before we arrived.”

“Okay good,” Nana replies, wry smirk locked and loaded as she continues to fire shots. “I don’t think I would have ever been able to forgive you if you brought me here just to subject me to your cooking.”

“Oh, come on,” you say, rolling your eyes and turning away to hide the smile you can’t contain. “You know you love me.”

“Obviously.”

That single word has no right to hit as hard as it does, but you can’t help but whip back around to face her. You pause, allowing the smile to slip as your voice drops. “I love you.”

“Believe it or not, even more obvious,” she responds, still attempting to hide behind levity. But you see it in the faint glimmer of her eyes, in the way her lips part slightly, in the way she leans in just the slightest bit closer.

You don’t have to move far to close the distance, leaning in and gently pressing your lips against hers. The combination of the dishes’ flavors explodes across your senses, adding a new type of spice to one of your favorite activities. Even more than usual, it drives you crazy, amplifying your hunger as you greedily up the intensity, wrapping your hand around the back of her neck and—

“Honestly, at this point, I’m not even surprised.”

Nana immediately breaks away from the kiss, turning to see Wooyeon walking in, a box in one hand and her forehead in the other.

“Seriously, we just keep having the worst timing,” you say, laughing warmly as you stand to greet her. “Thanks again for picking this up, I really appreciate it.”

“You’re very welcome,” Wooyeon responds, taking a seat next to Nana. “Your place is nice by the way.”

“Wait, you’re telling me Wooyeon got a key to your place before I did?” Nana asks indignantly. “Unbelievable, really.”

Your laughter follows you as you retreat to the kitchen, where you grab Wooyeon’s meal and return to the table. “That is a good point, I should be careful who I give those out to.”

“Indeed,” Wooyeon says, smirking sinisterly. “I might just invite myself in some time.”

“Alright alright, enough,” Nana declares as you burst into a quiet fit of laughter. “Please, can we try to have a normal dinner? It’d be nice to have an interaction between my two closest friends that isn’t awkward or cut short for once.”

The two of you agree and all three of you dive back into your dinners, casually conversing about your days, how good the food is, and basically anything at all. You happily join in, enjoying the chance to get to know Wooyeon better and seeing a new side of Nana that only her friend and fellow idol can bring out. A month ago, you never could have imagined seamlessly going from conversations about your work to stories about their backstage adventures to what movies they’d watched recently. Yet, on this especially significant day, you’re happy to join Nana at the intersection between her personal and professional life. You’re happy to make a joke and be blessed by the harmonization of Nana and Wooyeon laughing together. It’s musical, it’s magical, it’s meant to be.

“Now, will you tell me what’s in the box?” Nana eventually asks.

Wooyeon looks to you for confirmation, then reaches down and opens it, revealing an overly frosted, downright cartoonish-looking piece of cake that looks like it was taken right out of a Kirby game.

“Oh my god it’s perfect!” Nana exclaims, eagerly grabbing for her phone as you take a finger and run it through the icing. “Hey! I was gonna take a picture of that!!”

A devious smile creeps across your face as you lean forward, booping Nana on the nose and getting frosting everywhere. “HEY!”

You immediately lean away, desperately attempting her wild assault as Nana attempts to return the favor. Within a minute, you’re out of breath from laughing so hard, and from the corner of your eye you can see Wooyeon not faring much better. Nana catches you, of course, and you’re forced to suffer the consequences of your actions as bits of frosting are smeared all across your face.

Eventually, the commotion settles and you’re all able to enjoy the piece in peace, savoring the wonderful flavors as you share it together. Well after the sun sets, well after the streets outside go dark and the clock ticks past the shop’s normal closing time, the three of you remain, sharing stories, telling tales, and enjoying each other’s company. As always, a small part of you rues the passage of time, knowing that this too must come to an end. But for as long as you possibly can, you preserve this moment, refusing to take it for granted as you treasure the memory being made. Because you know that you’ll remember this night for the rest of your life. Because nights like this make you realize you’ve been gifted everything you could have ever wished for.

(My sincerest gratitude to @braaan and @majorblinks for reviewing this fic, I can’t thank you enough for how much your insights improved it and how much your love & support meant to me. This fic is dedicated to @capslocked, a known believer, and @okaylikesmomo, the newest member of the cult. I hope you enjoyed reading this story about hugs that happened to feature smut; the next story idea I intend to finish features far more snark and smut, with no hugs in sight. Anticipate it at your own risk.)

#kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #idol x reader #idol x male reader #nana smut #nana fanfic #wooah nana #el7z up #wooah #kpop fluff

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