#but if you want to do this just say I tagged you

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 6

in which spencer reid and inexperienced!fem reader are finally honest with each other. complete with tears and more than a few make-up kisses.

series masterlist

this series is 18+ warnings/tags: angst but mostly fluff, i think this qualifies as hurt/comfort, HHEHHEHHEH, lots of kissing, so cheesy, you jokingly imply he's a slut, i need him expeditiously a/n: thank you guys for being patient with me!! ilysm!! i edited this until i hated it but i hope it's satisfactory for YOU guys..... as always please please let me know what you think!! and i already started the next part hehehe

The car ride is the worst of your life. 

Neither of you speak. 

And you find yourself wishing, pleading to god that one of you will say something to fix this—but each minute ticks by and the streets get familiar and a quiet song ends and you realize you were silly to ever think a twenty minute car ride would change anything. 

Spencer was the luckiest you’d ever been and your relationship is floating away like a balloon you forgot to hold on to—nothing more than a red dot lost to the vast blue. 

Maybe for him it’s easier. You’re pretty sure it is, as you risk one or two glances at his unreadable profile that turn into lingering, obsessive looks because you’re panicking and realizing you’ll maybe never see him this close again. It’s funny and terrible how quickly you’re remembering what it was like to see him at the coffee shop for the first time—how he was nothing but a beautiful stranger, completely unknown to you and worlds away. Now you’ve had him, sort of, and you’re turning into the girl who could never have him all over again. 

When he turns onto your street reality begins to sink in. Your heart is a short fuse inside your chest as he pulls into a spot and parks the car. The rumble of the engine cuts. The headlights stay on. 

For a moment, everything is quiet. You wish you could insert your own reality into the silence—one where you’re simply enjoying each other’s company and there’s no sense of impending doom to take your breath away. 

“Do you want to talk?” Spencer asks, looking pointedly ahead where the lights shine off the back of some other person’s car. A wayward moth dips and swirls into the high beams. You watch Spencer track it with his eyes. 

“I’m not sure what to say,” you admit quietly. The weight of everything you’d like to say sits in your stomach like lead, too heavy to divulge. It’s only been a few weeks of having to carry the truth around with you and your muscles are already fatiguing. The idea of carrying it around indefinitely makes your eyes sting. You’re already exhausted. 

Maybe a stronger person would find that last bit of energy to make a final push, to save the relationship just before it falls apart. 

But you never claimed to be strong.

Deep down, you must’ve known you weren’t ready for a real relationship. You can’t handle all of this pretending to be okay with things that hurt. Even if that's the grown-up thing to do.

“I tried. I really did, I’m sorry—I’m—”

Before you can get the words out your throat tightens around them and you bury your face in your hands. 

The sound of his seatbelt unlocking and whirring back surprises you—but you’re even more surprised when he undoes yours. Still, you move your arm so it can snap back into place and then he’s pulling you into him. 

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, one hand on the back of your head as you lean over the small gap between the seats, unable to stop yourself from shedding more tears. “It’s not your fault. I’m sorry.”

He’s sorry. 

For not loving you?

If it’s not your fault he doesn’t love you back—then whose fault is it? Who’ll take the fall?

But still, he’s holding you so carefully, like you’re made of porcelain. Something to be protected. Or at the very least, something to be mourned even after it’s in pieces. 

As you lean against him, lulled by the slow in and out of his breath, the inverse of yours, and the way he slips his thumb over the back of your hair in silence for a few minutes—you wonder what’s missing. Why he’s not satisfied. 

“I don’t understand you.”

The words come out flat, muffled by his coat, garbled with leftover tears. 

“What was that?” Spencer asks gently, still playing with your hair. You sniffle, adjusting your head so your cheek is to his shoulder and your lips are no longer smushed. 

“I just… I want you to explain it to me.”

“Explain what?”

You sit up just enough to meet his eyes. The movement seems to take him by surprise, but he keeps his hands on you—one slipping to your cheek and the other still loyal to your back. He brushes his fingers over the delicate skin beneath your eye and you cover them with your own in an effort to get him to stop treating you so kindly. But even now, when you’re mad at him for being so gentle in the way that he hurts you, you can’t help but seek the familiar callus on the side of his trigger finger. It’s an odd thing to anticipate missing, but you’ll miss all of him. You can’t imagine holding a hand without that familiar anomaly—a cairn to show you where he’s been and who you’re holding. 

He curls his warm hand around yours and you hold your joined fist out for him in emphasis, speaking louder than either of you were prepared for. 

“This! You! I understand that we don’t feel the same way about each other and maybe I can’t change that. But then you do this and I don’t understand why. I don’t understand why this isn’t enough for you, because it’s enough for me, and I just—I don’t know what else I can give you. I don’t know what else there is. I don’t understand why I’m not... enough.” The tears are back and flowing freely, but you forge breathlessly ahead, because you’ve finally found a way to be honest and you’re not going to stop now. Spencer is frowning, lips parted and clearly confused or shocked or something, but you continue your confessional before he has the chance to interrupt. “I want to be enough, but you didn’t even give me the chance, and I don’t think it’s fair that we’re breaking up when you didn’t let me try. Maybe if you just told me, if you explained what’s missing I could fix it and you could love me back, and—please. I just want to try. Please, Spencer.”

A car engine revs somewhere far away, echoing down the street. It reverberates for several seconds, unimpeded by any other noise. Any word, any breath. 

His voice is thin when he responds a moment later, still studying your face with a kind of scrutiny that is so indecipherable you don’t know how you expect him to respond. 

“Love you back?”

You blink. 

Your stomach drops. 

For all that you’d revealed, for all that you’d willingly humiliated yourself with your pathetic supplication—you’d meant to keep that four letter word to yourself. 

What a way to make an exit from your relationship. 

Spencer is still looking at you, keeping you pinned to your seat, and as much as you wish it wasn’t the case he’s not going to let you off the hook this time. He’s going to demand an answer, and you have a 0% chance of bursting into mist before you have to provide an explanation, so you have no choice but to say something. 

What, exactly, you’re going to say—you don’t know. 

“I didn’t…”

“You didn’t mean it.”

The response comes so quickly, sharp as a slap, that you jump back slightly, a deep frown twisting your brow. Spencer makes no effort to keep his hand in yours as you slip from his grasp. 

“That’s not what I was—”

“Just say what you mean.” Silence. “Tell me.”

It’s like he’s got an ice pick to your chest. It’s like he wants you to humiliate yourself even further, to punish you for your messy indiscretions. 

“Spencer…”

It’s a warning. You’re giving him a chance to stop this before he hurts you sadistically. Before he becomes unrecognizable. 

He swallows. 

“Please.” And then, a second later, when you’re still trying to process the quiet pain in his voice and suddenly faced with the unexpected question of who is hurting who, “please, just… tell me if you meant it.”

For the first time tonight, you notice how exhausted he looks. Slightly gaunt, even paler than usual. Shadows pool deeper in the hollows of his face. His eyes look glossy, dark crescents below awaiting to catch tears you realize you’ve never seen fall. The tonal shift has you so disoriented, so out of your body like you’re seeing yourself in his own injuries—the truth becomes the only humane answer. Even if it hurts you.

“Yes. I meant it. You know I mean it.”

“I don’t know that,” he says on a shaky exhale. “How would I know that?”

And he’s got the ice pick back at your sternum. It’s tipped in poison. The mallet trembles in the air. So does your voice. 

“You told me you didn’t feel the same. You said it was new for me and different and I was going to make things complicated and you treated me like I was a stupid kid, and—and it doesn’t even matter. This was dumb. I’m sorry I said anything, I don’t… I don’t know what I’m doing. I just.. I can’t do this.”

You’re about to open the door, every muscle tense as you wonder what the hell is wrong with you. What reduced you to the weepy, pathetic girl, begging a boy to love her despite knowing it doesn’t work like that—the same girl you’ve looked down your nose at in every film and TV show and in every high school and college hallway since you learned what self-superiority meant. Before you knew exactly what it felt like to be her. 

“Wait.”

He says your name.  

And of course you pause. 

You want a reason to stay. If you had more self-respect, you wouldn’t. But you know you’ll give him as many chances to give you an excuse as he’s willing to take. You knew that before your fingers met the metal of the door handle. 

“Just—hold on a second. Can you look at me?” 

You sniffle and wipe your eyes with the heel of your palm before turning around to face him once more. You wonder if anyone will ever have the kind of power he has over you ever again. 

The despair leaves only wisps of itself on his face—mostly he looks like he’s thinking hard about something. It’s jarring. 

“You’re talking about our phone call on Sunday, right?”

You nod petulantly with a quick teary eye-roll because obviously that’s what you’re talking about. 

Something lights in his own dark eyes as he inhales, parts his lips as if to speak, and stops himself again. Like he’s got news that he’s not sure how to break. 

“The things I said, on that call… I wasn’t talking… about you.”

Your insides feel like tangled yarn as you stare at him uncomprehendingly. 

“I mean, I was. I was talking about us. But not in the way you think, it was—” he stops, rubbing his eyes and taking a frazzled breath. “I know what it’s like to be the one who cares more. I have to assume that I’m the one who cares more because when I don’t, I ruin things. And with you, I felt like—the stakes were so high, and I thought it’d be safer for me to not say anything until I knew you felt the same. But I know that’s not fair to you so I tried to tell you over the phone that if you didn’t feel the same way it was okay. And now I’m—I’m realizing the way I phrased it was incredibly unclear and misleading, and somehow I fucked it up in a completely new way. But I wasn’t referring to you. I just didn’t want you to feel stuck with someone who can’t give you casual when you have so much ahead of you. I had no idea you felt that way about me. And I am so, so sorry that I hurt you. I never meant for that to happen.”

You blink. 

And for some reason, begin sobbing. 

Spencer freezes for a moment, then tells you to stay there and you barely have the capacity to wonder what he means as you hear his own door opening then slamming shut again. A moment later he’s on the passenger side, opening your door and leaning in. 

“Hey,” he whispers, gently pulling your hands from your face and making you turn your head to look at him. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. But that’s good news, right? Why all the tears, lovely? What’s wrong? Please talk to me.”

You take a shuddering breath. 

“This is all my fault, I ruined everything because I was too scared to tell you before and now—and now—”

Stroking your cheeks to wipe away the tears is a futile effort because they just keep coming, but Spencer does it anyway, and he speaks so kindly, so evenly it somehow hurts deeper. 

You were terrible to him. And he had been prepared to accept that. He thought you didn’t love him, and he was still willing to be the subject of all your cryptic frostiness and inexplicable cruelty. 

“It is not your fault. You didn’t ruin anything. I’m still right here. We’re okay.”

“But we’re breaking up, and—and I was so mean to you. That’s not okay, Spencer.”

You finally look at him. He’s close, eyes warm and wide as he looks directly into your own teary gaze, shaking his head earnestly. 

“You were confused, honey. So was I. It was just a misunderstanding. But… I know I was unkind to you. I cannot express how sorry I am for that, and the last thing I want is for us to break up, but if you think that’s what’s best, I’ll… I’ll understand.”

His voice is dangerously thin by the end, strained with impending tears of his own. But he’s eternally kind—backlit by the streetlamps and beautiful like an angel.  Whatever you want, he’ll give you. Even if it’s this. 

“I don’t want that. I don’t.” You sigh, closing your eyes briefly against the world as you realize the impending breakup had been a delusion all along. That you were going to let your insecurities and some sick pride end the relationship for you. All that despair had been for nothing. Or—maybe not nothing. You realize he still hasn’t said it back. But you won’t be a coward. It’s not worth losing him. You open your eyes.  “I just—I want us to be on the same page. And if you don’t love me yet or if you don’t wanna say it, or if you can’t, I get it—it’s okay, but if you don’t could you maybe just tell me? So that I’ll know—”

Before you can process it Spencer is leaning in, head angled to accommodate you, pressing his lips to yours so softly your breath catches and your stomach flips. Maybe softer than he ever has before, and it’s like taking a deep breath after holding it through a dark tunnel. You exhale a tentatively soft sigh against him, releasing air you don't have along with the fraught tension in most of your body. All too quickly he’s pulling away, hands still cupping your cheeks and thumbs stroking over your skin. When he speaks it’s not quite a whisper, but secret-soft. 

“How could I not be so in love with you?” 

Suddenly you can feel the world turning underneath you. Or maybe you’re just dizzy from lack of oxygen. Either way it feels good. A drop of warmth makes a splash in your stomach and slowly spreads through every vein and capillary until you’re sure you’re glowing gold. 

“Really?”

“Of course really. I’m—” he takes a breath of his own, and you realize how difficult this must be after what happened the last time he professed his love for a girl. Your chest aches for him. His voice is low and solicitous, but it wavers slightly. “I should have told you sooner. I wanted to, but I was worried—I was worried the way I felt for you was… too much. I am so in love with you it scares me. I still don’t know what to say or how to act around you. When I’m gone, sometimes I imagine quitting my job, just so I can come home and see you sooner. When I have a gun in my hands, I start thinking about all the things I would do to keep you safe, or—or just because you asked me to. And if what you wanted was for me to leave you alone, I would have done that. If you wanted me to drop everything and everyone to be with you I would have done that. And I know you’d never ask those things of me. But any of them, I’d do in a heartbeat. Which is… it’s a little scary, huh?”

The final sentence is a nervous self-effacing chuckle, which you can match in sound only—one breathy attempt at a laugh from your slackened jaw. 

When that’s the only response you can manage, he clears his throat. 

“Too honest?”

You shake your head as if in a fog. 

“No. Not too honest. But I’m just… I’m trying not to cry again.”

He smooths over your hair fondly. His own eyes are shiny and full of wonder as he studies you for a short while, like you're doing something much more awe-inspiring than sniffling in the passenger seat of his car. Then one hand is dropped to your shoulder and the other braced against your seat back. Finally, he pulls back to a more reasonable distance with a shaky sigh. It’s a sound of relief. You want to hug him, and all the past hims who have ever been hurt by anyone. 

“You, um—you need to rehydrate. Do you have anything that will rebalance your electrolytes? If you don’t I can go to the store—”

“You don’t need to do that,” you assure him with a small, watery laugh, loosely grabbing the wrist that brushes your shoulder. 

“But you need to take care of yourself. And I know you haven’t been drinking enough water because you never do.”

There’s a lingering overwrought shakiness to his voice, but it’s still the most relaxed he’s sounded since he came home, and you realize that the worst is behind you. The storm that you’d been so sure you couldn’t weather is somehow clearing up. 

“I can’t believe we almost just broke up.”

He hangs his head, dropping it to the curve of your neck and groaning. 

“Don’t say that. Let’s not think about that right now. Just—” when he raises his head again, and shakes it slightly to get his hair out of his eyes, they’ve cleared, like he’s on a mission to change the subject. “Let’s go upstairs. Will you let me take care of you?”

You give him an exaggerated nod, still sniffing, and the smile that grows on his face is like seeing the sun rise above the ocean. You love his smile. You love him. 

Spencer kisses you on the cheek. 

“Okay. Let me lock the car and then we can go up.”

As soon as you get into your apartment and turn on the light Spencer goes to the kitchen. It’s a small unit, but antique and nice enough, though you prefer Spencer’s. There’s still some tension as you observe him filling a glass with water, kicking your boots off by the door—but not necessarily the bad kind. You’re not sure exactly what it is. 

“Where are you going?” He asks as you pass the kitchen area to turn on a standing lamp in the opposite corner of the room. 

“I don’t like the big light.” A warm glow emanates through stained glass as you flick it on. 

“I know that. I just didn’t realize it was a higher priority than your wellbeing.” His tone is sardonic but he’s already switching off the overhead lighting for you. You give him a wry smirk as you finally approach and take the proffered glass from his waiting hand. 

“Ambience over everything, baby.”

His brows pinch at the cavalier sentiment—you never call him baby, so you're sure he knows it’s a joke—and he shakes his head with a humorous little huff of air through his nose, watching as you drink deeply. Your hand is shaking. Spencer notices and covers it with both of his, taking the half empty glass with one and grabbing your hand with the other. 

“Adrenaline,” he murmurs, kissing your knuckles. “It’ll go away soon. Did you get enough?”

You nod, smiling small but genuinely. Emotionally exhausted or not, you’re happy. 

Spencer strays, not far, to set the glass on the counter. Then he turns to face you, bracing his palms on the ledge and just watching you for a moment with the kind of smile that makes you nervous in the best way.

He beckons you to him with nothing more than a quick tilt of his head, and you shuffle across the floor in your socks til you’re toe to toe. Without your shoes on, he feels much taller. Still he just watches you for a moment—not that you mind. Your view isn’t half-bad. The faint warm glow from the lamp casts shadows over his face, highlighting all the perfect angles, deep brown eyes framed by dark lashes, and lips that still make you feel like a girl with a crush when you look at him. His hair is getting long. You’re unreasonably glad you still get to look at him like this. 

“Hi,” you whisper—something about the intimate dark of the room feels like a place for secrets. 

“Hi, pretty.” Spencer tucks hair behind your ear, eyes soft wherever they focus on your face like if he even looks at you too sharply you might break. “Have I told you how much I missed you while I was gone?”

He knows he hasn’t.

“Even when I was being a heinous bitch?”

Spencer laughs and it makes you smile too. The way his smile changes the landscape of his whole face will never feel any less like observing a natural phenomenon. It’s unfair how beautiful he is, and how you’re keeping him all to yourself in the dark on the fourth floor of an apartment building in DC. 

“Even then. Not sure that’s the wording I would have used.”

“I missed you too,” you admit softly. 

He maps your face with wandering eyes like he’s done a hundred times. Vaguely you wonder if he sees the same kind of beauty in you that you see in him. If he sees landmarks in your flaws and stars beyond the observable universe in your eyes. 

Spencer sweeps your hair over your shoulder, fingertips grazing your neck. 

“Can I kiss you?” He murmurs. 

Butterflies fill your stomach and you nod shyly, unsure of what would come out if you tried to speak.

His free hand settles on your lower back and brings you into him until you’re chest to chest. With his other on your jaw, he bows his head, and you angle yours up, allowing your eyes to flutter shut. 

Spencer kisses you so gently it aches in your chest, still cupping your face and stroking your cheek. You can’t help wrapping your arms around his middle—before he’s pulling away far too soon. 

And he’s laughing. 

“What were you drinking?”

You frown, flustered and trying to remember a time before his lips were on yours.

“Water.”

“Before that, baby. At the bar.”

You think back even further, head muddled even more by the endearment so that it takes you a moment to recall. 

“A Shirley Temple. Derek brought it to me. Why? Is that bad?”

“No,” he says, still smiling as his lips brush yours. “You’re perfect. You taste like candy. It’s cute.”

Oh. You feel warm as he presses another kiss to your lips—and this time you insist on him staying awhile. He’s happy to oblige. 

Spencer kisses you soft and careful at first, and then deeper, but still so slow, until you can’t help the way you’re bunching the fabric of his shirt between your fingers and rising on your toes to try and get impossibly closer. He kisses you the way you’ve been needing him to since he left, long and unhurried and sweet—and takes everything you give him, siphoning away all your leftover turmoil and angst until you’re weightless. You’re deprived of oxygen, you’re dizzy, and you don’t care at all. 

“I love you,” you breathe against him before he captures your lips again with a hum that flips your stomach, his hand rubbing over your hip. 

“Say it again,” he mutters against your mouth a second later, brushing hair away from your face. 

It comes out a little mumbled this time between kisses, but it comes out all the same. 

“Love you.”

He sighs into you—relief that mirrors your own. 

“I love you.”

It seems like the kind of thing that will never stop sounding perfect from his lips. 

A final deep kiss shortens into a series of smaller ones, and then he’s pulling away slowly, brushing the corner of your mouth affectionately. 

Both of you require a few deep breaths—a moment to let your sparkling eyes wildly chart each familiar curve and convex and shade and shadow of the other’s face—before either of you can speak. Spencer breaks the silence first. 

“I’m sorry.”

You frown, stirred from your brainless bliss by his unexpected apology. 

“For what?”

The fiery glow in his eyes dampens slightly. 

“For what I said at the bar.”

Oh.

That.

It feels like a lifetime away—memories seen through someone else’s eyes. Words like blows from a less familiar mouth. 

You look away. For a while, you’d forgotten about that. Ideally he wouldn’t have reminded you. 

At least he doesn’t make you look at him. He just strokes your hair, watching you examine the tiled counter. His voice is soft and soothing, like he’s appealing to a scared rabbit. Or maybe something angrier and with more teeth. 

“You’re not immature, or badly behaved, or thoughtless. I was having an emotional reaction, I got defensive, and I lashed out. It was unfair and unkind of me to throw those things back in your face when I know how much trust it takes for you to be vulnerable with me. There’s nothing I can say or do that will adequately make up for that, but I want you to understand that I didn’t say any of it because it was the truth. I said it because I didn’t understand how you were feeling and I was hurt. I was insecure and I acted juvenile. I am so, so sorry, honey. You don’t have to forgive me, but you do need to know that none of it is true.”

Once you bite your lip long enough to be sure you won’t cry again, you speak. 

“It’s okay,” you insist with a cheerfulness as natural as hard plastic, something in your chest twinging. “I was mean too. Like you said, we were both confused.”

“It is not. I made you cry.”

Sometimes you forget that he’s not like other people. He’ll never accept anything less than the barest truth. So you look back up at him and speak with a level of honesty that you hope satisfies him. 

“I forgive you. You didn’t mean it. And I have insurance because Derek said he and Emily would kick your ass if you’re mean to me again.”

You hear the sad humor in his voice. His hand runs up and down your back. 

“If I’m ever mean to you again, I personally invite you to kick my ass. And then let Derek and Emily have their turn.” He thumbs at your cheek, studying you in silence for a moment. “I can’t tell you how much I wish I could take it back.”

You stand up a little straighter. Spencer tracks you with his eyes, noting the way you smile slightly. 

“You’ll find a way to make it up to me.”

“I’ll do anything for you,” he admits, barely a whisper and the truth of it so heavy you can feel it too. 

But for tonight you can’t contend with more weight. 

“You know what you could do right now?”

The mischief in your tone is obvious, and he hesitates, like he’s not sure he wants to let you move on from this so quickly. But eventually he plays along, pressing his thumb into the dip of your back and speaks lowly, just as you’d hoped he would. 

“What’s that?”

You smile slyly. 

“You could kiss me again.”

“Hm… I don’t know, three times in one night? Sounds a little excessive.”

“Do you want to be forgiven or not?” You huff. He smiles lazily, already dipping his head to press his lips to yours. 

“I thought I was already forgiven.”

“Apologies can be retracted.”

“Ah.” His next words are mumbled as his lips ghost yours. “Well we wouldn’t want that.”

Spencer puts you out of your misery, not bothering to warm you up to it before he’s kissing you with a deep need. It’s still languid, and not hungry, exactly—it’s more like an aching, mind-numbing thirst. It’s all-consuming, overwhelming to have all of his burning focus pinpointed on you like this. Both hands come to cup your face and you wonder if he wants you in ways that he doesn’t entirely understand, just as you want him. You wonder if anything could possibly sate this desire to possess him completely and for him to possess you, to trade corporeal forms—or if it’s just something you’ll have to live with like a metaphysical itch you can’t scratch. As he forces you to tip your head back for him, using his height to his advantage, breathing deeply against you and attempting to push himself impossibly closer, you begin to think he understands exactly how you feel. 

As soon as you’d sensed he wanted it, your lips had parted for him. He knows he could have any part of you. He knows how eager you are to give yourself to him. You’ve done everything to prove it, and yet you’ve never needed him quite like you do ask he pushes off the counter and slowly backs you against the wall, protecting your head with a hand as the paintings rattle ever so slightly. You gasp into his mouth and he kisses you greedier still, but his hands don’t stray from your cheeks. 

Not until, that is, you hook your right leg around his left, and he catches it, fingers wrapping under the bend of your knee. 

Never in your life have you regretted picking jeans rather than a skirt more than you do right now. 

But to your disappointment, Spencer slows down to a halt—pulling his lips from yours like they’d been stuck by molasses until he’s far enough away to study you wildly, panting just as you are. His hair hangs over his smoldering eyes. He’s disheveled. It’s sexy. 

“What?” You whisper, voice surprisingly hoarse.

He looses a dry, abashed laugh. The flush he’s sporting is incredibly charming. 

“I’m supposed to be playing nice with you.”

Spencer says it like it’s a mild hindrance. Something frissons in your core. You smile a little wider as you continue to catch your breath, which seems to please him. 

“Playing nice?”

“Being gentle. I’m not supposed to push my favorite things against walls when they’re delicate.”

Your face heats at the way he speaks of you—if it weren’t Spencer, if you didn’t know he really doesn’t think of you as an object, you’d be pissed. But instead all you can think about is how good it feels when he calls you his. 

“According to who?”

His eyes dart between yours and then down to your lips several times before he averts them to the wall beside you with an intensity that could burn holes through the plaster. Is that how he looks at you?

“According to me. I think… god, you're going to hate me for this. But I think I need you to kick me out.”

You drop your leg at the same time as you do your heart. 

“What?”

“I know,” he says, over-apologetically, “I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let that escalate. But we can’t… do anything tonight.” Before you can protest, he rushes to explain himself. “It’s just that it’s been a long day. It’s been a long week, actually, and I doubt either of us have slept very much, and I think you’re really drained, and probably not thinking super clearly. I don’t think you’re in the best place for decision making.”

You look pointedly down to where he still has you pressed to the wall. 

“I think I’m in a great place.”

At that he steps back, but lets his hands find yours and pulls you away from the wall—just not quite as close as before. His nose bumps against yours as he speaks low and sweet. 

“I understand that you want me to stay right now. But it’s not a good idea to associate fighting with physical pleasure. That can set some really dangerous patterns.”

“We’re not fighting,” you plead, matching his tone as you look up at him with big eyes. His fingers lace with yours. 

“You’re right. Maybe fighting was the wrong word. But we had some pretty intense conversations today, didn’t we?”

Reluctantly you nod. 

“Right,” he agrees. “Same premise. We need to be able to have those conversations without getting distracted.”

In a last ditch attempt to get him to change his mind, you give him your best approximation of the imploring, wide-eyed gaze he sometimes uses on you. Something not entirely smile and not entirely smirk twists the corners of his mouth. When he ducks down to kiss you quickly, you reciprocate, but you lack the enthusiasm of earlier. 

“Hey.” 

“Hm,” you respond, dejectedly. 

“Don’t get all grumpy because I don’t put out.”

That puts a disgruntled little smile on your face as he probably knew it would. 

“I guess you just gave it up easy to all those other women.”

He grabs your chin and gives you a final peck. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never been with other women.”

“Mhm,” you grumble good-naturedly, pushing away from him and going to the door to undo the deadbolt. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

“Wow. I really must have overstayed my welcome if that’s the goodbye I get.”

You turn back around, brows raised. 

“Oh, I was prepared to be very welcoming. This is your doing.”

“Uh-huh. Come here.”

Happily you skitter back across the few feet of wooden flooring and wrap your arms tightly around him one more time, pressing your cheek to his chest. He’s ready, winding his arms over yours and rubbing your back. It’s eerily similar, you realize as he presses his face into the concave of your shoulder, to when he’d left on that most recent case. 

But at the same time—everything’s different. 

And you won’t make the same mistake twice. 

“Hey,” you smile, resting your head on his shoulder. Spencer pulls back to look at you, a similar grin on his face. 

“Hey what?”

“I remembered what I was gonna say.”

The grin widens. He knows exactly what you’re talking about. 

“Tell me.”

“I was going to tell you that I love you. And—I hope you’re not one of those people who’s uncomfortable being told that often. Because if that’s the case I’m really going to annoy you.”

“I’m not that kind of person,” he assures. “Tell me as often as you can.”

“But you should say it back. It’s more polite that way.”

“I love you,” he murmurs, in a voice more serious than your teasing tones had been but still soft and sweet around the edges. “You know, people talk about love as if it’s completely irrational and illogical. But with you… I think the world actually makes more sense than it used to. I understand things I never did before. You’ve taught me a lot.”

It’s like a lightshow in your stomach. You wonder if he has any idea the effect his casual musings have on you.

“You already knew everything.”

“Not everything,” Spencer whispers. “Not about the things that matter.”

And you’re fresh out of teases. All you can do is look up at him with big eyes again, in awe of the fact that you get to keep him after all. 

“Will you text me when you get home?” You request, voice reverent in the wake of an admission you could never hope to top. 

“I will. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

You nod, because it doesn’t even matter if you had other plans tomorrow. They’re as good as cancelled. 

Spencer kisses your cheek, and you get the sense that things are still being left unfinished. There’s an unresolved tension that you can’t shake, even after all the apologies and kisses and sweet words. Still, he made a point with his talk about not mixing argument with pleasure, and you’d like to respect those wishes because you respect him—even if every atom of your being shakes with desire to keep him locked in your bedroom, hidden away from the world together, for as long as you can possibly manage. 

Eventually, you loosen your hold, and you let him go. He lingers at the door, hands in his pockets, just watching you and mirroring your small smile as you hold onto the counter with an iron grip to keep yourself in check. After he finally peels his gaze away from yours and silently closes the door behind him, you stand there, staring at the wood for at least a minute.

Once you manage to shake yourself from your revery with a deep breath, you grab your glass from earlier and stand in front of the sink, watching it fill with a white jet of water. It’d be a shame to admit it to him, but maybe Spencer is right. Maybe you do need time to emotionally digest today. After all—that was technically your first argument. It seems to have left you sort of wound up. Not in a bad way, per se—maybe you just need to take a shower, let the hot water roll over your shoulders and wash away the frenetic energy that clings to you. 

Still, something tells you that you won’t be getting much sleep tonight, even if you do take the world’s longest shower. You’re simply too high-strung. You wonder if having Spencer here would fix that or make it worse. But ultimately, he’d made the call that it was a bad idea for him to stay, and you’re generally inclined to trust his judgement. 

The thought makes you laugh into your cup as you drink. Even after the debacle that was the past week, you trust him to know what he’s doing. Maybe you need to rethink that, at least temporarily, until he’s had a chance to redeem himself. 

Just then, your front door is opening with absolutely zero warning and slamming shut again before you can finish whipping around. Your heart threatens to choke you and you almost drop your glass, clutching your chest. 

“Jesus, you—”

But the words die in your throat as Spencer storms toward you, shrugging his coat off with a white-hot chill in his eyes. It’s enough to freeze you in place, heart drumming against the confines of your ribs. 

“You really need to start locking that door,” he breathes, tossing his jacket on the counter before grabbing your face and crashing his lips into yours, palms pressed to your jaw and fingers pushing into your hair. You stand there, hands hovering in air before you gain the wherewithal to blindly set the glass down behind you. Your heart is pounding as you immediately submit to the kiss, whining softly against his lips and cautiously seeking stability in the fabric of his shirt. Spencer pulls away only briefly, allowing you to gasp for much-needed air. His brown eyes are like molten gold on you, pupils blown wide and wild as he scans your face, taking heavy breaths of his own. “Anyone could just walk in.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic

[thesirencult]

How Will Your FS See You ?

1--2

*****************************************

Pile 1

I'm seeing a vision. A girl is gathering flowers and playing in the sun between trees. At the same time, a man is looking at her like she is his whole world.

What this tells me is that there is a very clear distinction between you and your future spouse's energies. Your FS is definitely more masculine (no matter their gender) and you are more feminine.

This person sees you as a ray of light. You are dainty like a flower and sweet like honey. I'm hearing the word "yellow" 💛. Whenever they are looking at you, you are draped in golden light.

Now, what makes me sad is that you don't see yourself that way. Your person knows that you are picking yourself apart and they hate it.

You are a shiny little star to them. Some words they might call you are : my little star, pooh bear, sweetheart, honey, sweetie, cutie. They believe you are the sweetest, loveliest, most sincere person on planet earth. You believe that you do not deserve love or that you are not that important but they are seeing "You are important. You are as important as the air I breathe. You are necessary to my survival."

Like the sun is the centre of our universe, you are the centre of their universe. Your FS is very affectionate with you. I'm seeing someone kissing the fingers of someone else and breathing in their scent from their neck/hair. First and foremost they find you sweet and cute. Like, to them, intimacy doesn't mean mindless physical connection but love making. They love your hands and your nose.

They adore your expressions and they find certain quirks you have cute. As an example, when you feel tired and puff air out or if you tag on their hand and look up at them.

This person might be bigger than you and they just want to protect and serve you. I believe that they want to set boundaries between you and the world. They want to hold up a mirror for you and help you see your own light.

Whenever you are sad they want to make you smile.

I believe that you and your FS are going to be really close. This is not a normal bond. To others it might not seem healthy, they way that you are attached to eachother, but for you it's perfect...

Pile 2

Your FS sees you as their dream person, not in a childish way but in a mature way. You are what they need not what they wanted.

This person has had lots of experiences when it comes to love. When they meet you they will be going through a "winter" moment, life will have lost its spark. You might be born in March, cause you are going to wash away the snow and help them see the bright side of life again.

This will not be easy. Your FS will see you as their wish fulfillment, but at moments they will be wondering whether God or the d*vil sent you. You will be triggering their old wounds and stagnant energy.

This person will be very caring towards you. They will constantly remind you to take your vitamins and drink enough water. They will tease you about your height or nose just to get to your nerves.

I'm hearing "They are so draining!". Now, this is really funny cause I heard it in a teasing way, like you are at the next room and they are telling your mom you are a pain in the butt when in reality they love your quirks.

They will be constantly worrying about your well-being lol. They will get mad when you are not taking care of yourself and they will be trying to guilt trip you into doing things that are good for yourself.

Let's say you are really shy and don't want to go to the beach but they want to go and you have a dog that loves the water. They will be telling you "See, the dog is broken hearted. You are not a really good dog mom/dad."

This person will think you are sneaky. They will love the sparkle your eyes have as you have a very "active" inner child.

I believe you don't show that side to others that often and no one will believe what they have witnessed. You could have made a crazy food combination or they found you teaching the dog muay thai, to them you can NEVER be boring. It's like, what is she up to, AGAIN?

I also get that you might give them the "puppy eyes" when you get caught doing something you're not supposed to be doing (ex. cheating on your diet) or playing all coy and sweet and they love that!

#astrology #tarot reading #level up journey #tarot #pick a card #pick a pile #pac reading #pick a photo #pick a picture #soulmate #future spouse #psychic readings #tarotreading #Spotify

[planetaryupscaled]

Misplaced Comfort

Male OC x Kim Minjeong (Winter)

Tags: 2k, creampie, dubcon, stepsister, tw

Kim Minjeong knew she had fucked up the moment she walked through the door. The way he sat in the chair, feet propped on the table, eyes cold and looking at her from head to toe. His gaze moved up and down her body, scrutinizing every detail of her outfit with a judgment that made her stomach turn.

“Minjeong.” He says her name in a way that makes her want to cower, but she doesn’t.

“Do you have an understanding of how men’s minds work?”

She’s at a loss for words. She just stood there, holding his gaze.

“Do you know how men perceive you when you dress like that? Where the fuck were you?” His words are harsh, but his tone is smooth and collected, his gravely voice low yet sharp.

“You’re not my father,” she snaps back. Definitely not her most mature move.

“I’m your brother.”

“Step-brother,” she corrected him.

“Just because you are older than me doesn’t give you parenting rights.”

She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. He stands slowly and deliberately begins to walk toward her. She steps back subconsciously until her back is against the closed door.

“Say you’re sorry,” he says softly. Eyes fixed on hers.

Minjeong felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise.

“I’m not saying sor…”

Her voice is cut off as he shoves two fingers into her mouth and down her throat. His other hand wraps gently but firmly around her neck, pushing her against the door. He towers above her, looking down at her.

“Somebody didn’t raise you right,” he says with that condescending tone she know so well.

In a burst of anger, she violently pushed him away, her nails digging into his arms, though his strength is unmoveable.

To her surprise, he lets go of her neck and slides his thick fingers from her mouth. But she can tell from the look on his face that he’s not done.

“If you were a smart girl, you would’ve bitten her fingers,” he says, and she feels a hard slap across her cheeks, bringing tears to her eyes. She looked back up at his chiseled face, trembling.

“I fucking hate you!” she hisses, surprised by the toxicity in her own voice.

“Say that again,” he warns, his voice dark and low.

“I. Fucking. Hate. You!” she snarls between her teeth.

His hand suddenly covers her mouth, sending the back of her head slamming against the door. He flips her around so her back is now facing him with his hand on the back of her head, and her face is pressed against the door. He holds her in place with one hand while undoing his belt with the other.

“Stop,” she choked on a broken whimper.

He forcefully wraps his belt around both of her wrists, trapping them behind her. She looks behind her, and their gaze’s lock. Minjeong shakes her head, her eyes welling with tears.

With a look of defiance on his face, he pulls out his thick cock which is filled with veins just like his hands. Minjeong never understood how it fit inside her tiny body.

With one hand on the back of her head and her face pressed against the door, his other hand begins to slide up and down his hardness. “Lick it,” he commands.

She struggle against the binds. “You’re fucking sick,” she sobs.

“Lick the fucking door,” he repeats quietly. She began licking and kissing the door, as if it were a person.

“Wouldn’t your daddy be proud,” he purrs, his hand working up and down his hardness.

Disgusting. She felt shame rising in her chest, but she was aching between her legs.

“His little girl, being slutty in a--” He interrupts his speech to slap her again. - “--fucking club full of men!?”

she flinches as his hand strokes her face.

“I didn’t even dance on anyone,” Minjeong sob.

He turns her around and lifts her up against the door, her legs straddling him, her skirt riding up to expose her lacy white underwear. Her hands are still locked behind her back, painfully pressed against the door. He keeps her there, his cock perilously poised at her entrance.

“Tell me what you said again,” he commands.

“I said I fucking hate you,” she exclaimed. He pushed her underwear to the side exposing her smooth-shaven pussy.

“That’s not how you are supposed to talk to me,” he whispers.

“No,” she whispers. “Please stop…stop...”

He enters her tightness, slowly pushing in. Minjeong felt as if she were being ripped in half. He covers her mouth as she screams into the rough palm of his hand.

He begins to work in and out of her. She feels like he’s in her stomach, tearing apart her organs. He works into her expertly, fucking her slowly as if they were making love. his abdomen’s taut skin grinding against her clit.

“Say it again,” he hisses, withdrawing his hand from her mouth.

“I fucking hate you,” she said in a low, soft voice, and began to cry, tears adorned her beautiful face.

He pushes into her hard and slow, enunciating each word to match his rhythm. “Say. You. Are. Sorry.”

“I’m sor--”

He shoves his fingers down her throat again, silencing her.

“Who taught you to choke on a man’s cock?”

“Answer me.” He asks sharply.

“You,” she cries out desperately. Her voice breaks, and muffled as his thick fingers invade her mouth.

He moves even closer to her face. His fingers leave her mouth, but he uses one hand to crush her face. Their eyes are locked. The other hand is on her hips, lifting her up and down, holding her against the door.

“Who fucking taught you how to take it like a good girl?”

Minjeong was cobbing uncontrollably. She can hear it in her voice and feel hot tears streaming down her cheeks.

“You,” she cried.

He releases her face. “Open your mouth.” She obeys, and he spits into her mouth. She swallowed it, a pang of humiliation marking her heart.

“Who. Fucking. Owns. You?” He asks, his calm quiet voice slowly getting louder, pushing into her in time with each word.

“Whose spit do you swallow?” Who stretches your cunt until you beg him to stop? Who comes to you every fucking day?

“Y- Yours,” she whispers.

“Say it,” he growls.

“You fucking own me,”

“Louder.”

“You fucking OWN me!” she screams.

“Shhhh,” he murmurs, putting his hand over her mouth again. This is a sick game. He begins to pick up speed, his abs grinding into her clit, taking her closer and closer to a place she refuses to go.

“I own you,” he says sweetly. His eyes darken suddenly.

“So tell me how the FUCK I don’t have parenting rights,” he hisses, his voice as loud as she’s ever heard it.

“Tell me!”

Her voice is muffled beneath his hand, and her attempts to speak are unrecognizable.

“I can’t hear you,” he mutters. His eyes flash with dark pleasure.

“If you don’t answer me, I’m going to put a finger all the way up to that little ass of yours,” he purrs.

Minjeong screamed against his hand, begging with her eyes. He fucked her faster and faster, but remains rhythmic and calculated.

“That’s not a good enough answer,” he says.

Minjeong felt his thick finger at the entrance of her ass, and began to push in as she struggled against her binds.

“Kiss my hand,” he says.

Minjeong began to feverishly lap at the palm of his hand, the hand that silenced her, doing everything she could to get him to stop. Instead, she felt his finger push up into her asshole. She cannot believe it fits. She choked on her own screams.

Instinctually, she bite his hand.

She barely hurt his thick, calloused skin, but the look on his face as he removes his hand from her mouth is priceless.

Until it isn’t.

His surprise fades into a dark, intense anger. He begins to push a second finger into her ass at the same time he pushed deeper into her love tunnel, his cock head nudge at entrance of her cervix. Reactively, she begins blubbering.

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered. “I’m sorry. Please don’t. Not two.”

“Sorry what?” He asks sharply. He holds his fingers like a gun, waiting her answer. She trembles and hesitates for a moment, “Don’t make me say it. Please don’t make me say it,” she told to herself.

He then pushes his second finger up into her asshole.

“I’m sorry, daddy,” Minjeong’s hoarse voice cracks. The phrase, which may be corny in some contexts, comes off her tongue raw.

His eyes light up. He enjoys her embarrassment. She knows he does.

“I’m going to cum inside you,” he says smoothly and authoritatively.

“And you’re going to cum for me.”

“No… I won’t.” Minjeong remains defiant.

“Say you’re sorry again,” he murmurs as he continues fucking her faster and harder against the closed door.

She moaned. The friction on her clit is too rhythmic and calculated; she feels her heartbeats and the tingles in her stomach. He gets closer to her face than before, with his open mouth so close to her.

“There we go,” he murmurs.

“Cum for me…” He said looking into her eyes.

“No,” she whimpered, and at that moment she cumming, her pussy grip tightening even more around his cock, a small noise of broken pleasure escaping her throat.

He bares his teeth, brows furrowing, as Minjeong feels his cock throbbing, bursting his load inside her unprotected pussy, owning her insides.

He falls against her, and she against him, both out of breath.

He takes her in his arms and carries her to the bed, laying her down. He unlatch the belt from her wrists. He lies beside her, carefully watching her with his eyes.

Minjeong is weakened from the fucking he gave her; she can barely move. His hand reaches out and touches her face. She flinched.

“Shhh,” he says with genuine concern on his face. “It’s over.”

She looked up at this man, this loving and perfect man who had always protected her and who could transform into a complete animal in a heartbeat.

“I know,” she whispers, her voice smaller than usual.

He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I do it because I love you. Because I’m protective. You know that right?”

A strange, misplaced comfort envelopes her entire body. A wave of exhaustion rises up her spine.

“Answer me,” he says, his voice gentle.

“I know, it’s because you love me,” she says.

“Say it again,” he says, his voice aching with love as he observes her every movement.

“It’s because you love me,” Minjeong repeated.

Her eyelids are heavy, and she closes them. She feels his caring eyes on her as she falls asleep, her mind and body tired as they always are after an argument.

She couldn’t deny that deep down, she found peace in his violence.

#winter smut #kim minjeong smut #aespa smut #kpop smut #girl group smut #female idol smut #male reader

[junislqve]

ᯓ million dollar — ot7

syn when the members spend their (unlimited) money on you. (1770 words)

pairs richboy!members + reader | cw mentions of money petnames — mlist navi

notes richboy members are having a chokehold on me lately

LEE HEESEUNG

“take as much time as you want, love”

earlier that day, you were scouring your closet for a decent dress. flipping through the same five for the past hour.

your boyfriend, grumbling about how you should get back to bed, watched as you pick up the same clothes. his eyes never leaving your figure, staring up at you through the mirror you were using to look at the picks.

heeseung slowly got up and hugged you from behind, burying his head on your neck. kissing your shoulder blades up to the back of your ear.

“do you need a new dress, love?”

after very few talking from heeseung and much more complaints from you, he somehow convinced you to get ready.

and that is how you’ve ended up in one of the famous streets in your city. lined up with the prettiest boutiques and malls.

heeseung wrapped his hands around yours and walked to a favorite store of yours. remembering how you’ve ever mentioned how badly you wanted to go back and buy something from it, months ago.

walking in, your small pout turned into the biggest, heart-pounding grin he’s ever seen. he bit his lip containing his own smile and dug out his wallet.

“spend it all on anything you want, baby”

PARK JONGSEONG

as a musician, looking at instruments is like strolling through heaven. admiring all the small intricate details engraved.

jay loved his guitars like it was his own child, he understands what it’s like to spend thousand and even more on just a single guitar. not that it would do anything to his bank.

you’ve never really asked jay for anything for as long as you’ve been dating. rather using your own money to buy whatever you want than letting your boyfriend buy it for you.

it wasn’t like jay didn’t want you to buy things using his card, he actually offers it most times than not. it was you who never lets him buy anything for you.

“use my card to buy the groceries, babe”

you refused to take his card whenever you could. because of this, jay has learned to pay without you knowing. usually when your back is turned or when you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom.

right now, your boyfriend is tagging along with you as you browse through the island of pianos; ranging from yamaha to bluthner.

you stopped abruptly as your eyes fell on a piano that had you immediately captivated, from the design of the lid to the shape of the pedals, you thought it was the most beautiful piano you’ve ever seen.

when you were admiring the piano, trying out the keys and sitting on the soft cushion of the chair. you failed to realize your boyfriend had silently called the seller and slid his card. smiling down at your frowning figure.

“it’ll arrive by tomorrow morning, love”

SIM JAEYUN

“but you look so good in these, babe”

opening your apartment door with a click, the lights turned on to greet you with the copious amounts of packages laid on your living room.

the packages were of different sizes and stacked side by side. what’s worse is that you can’t remember buying all of the things you did, having to open up each package to know what and when you bought them.

you called up your boyfriend, who had brought in all of your packages earlier in the day when he paid a visit to your unit to pick up a small bag you forgot to bring.

“i seriously need to go on a ban”

“no you don’t baby, besides, you use my card when you buy anything” jake says, laying his head atop yours as he turned on a movie an hour ago to stop your fussing.

“that’s not the point, jake. i need to stop buying random things online. i can’t keep flooding my bedroom” you sigh.

“then just put the things you don’t like anymore in my apartment, you’ll have more space that way” jake smiles down at you, kissing your temples.

that was one week ago. somehow, he had convinced you to ‘accompany’ him on a late night rendezvous to prada. it was all fine at first when he was just looking at the suits. but now, he’s trying to convince you to buy two pairs of their new summer series glasses.

“i can buy this next time, babe” you finally say, sighing, after letting him talk about all the new luxury pieces of the summer set, desperately trying to talk his way into letting him buy you one.

“oh” he trails off, a sheepish grin creeping up on his face “about that, i’ve already paid”

PARK SUNGHOON

as a person who always loved the mountains, you find yourself spending weekends driving up one usually catching the sunset. this was already a routine even before you met sunghoon.

and now, you still kept up that routine whenever you weren’t too busy, your boyfriend always opting to tag along despite his complaints about being too tired. he wouldn’t actually pass up an opportunity to be with you.

you always loved traveling, within the city and during long holidays, out. liking the feeling of driving past the roads and seeing the scenery once the mountains come into view.

when sunghoon found out about this interest of yours, he started searching up for places with the most beautiful mountain sceneries. over the past years, he’s taken you to numerous countrysides and mountaintops inside and outside of the country.

even when you say it was fine if you were to only travel within the country, he loves seeing the way your eyes widen adorably during a gorgeous sunset that would rarely happen in-country. that’s why, the moment he tracks down a specific date that you both were going to be free for at least three days, sunghoon would immediately book a ticket to whatever country he’s been searching up.

on a random afternoon, sunghoon knocks on your bedroom door, walking in your apartment. as you open the door, there he stood with a big suitcase and that sweet smile of his.

“better pack up now, baby. we’re leaving in a few hours”

KIM SUNOO

sunoo knows you more than you know yourself, he’s quick to learn your body language and certain expressions you make.

it’s really hard to lie to him when he knows how to poke at you the right way to make you open up about your worries.

sometimes he just lets you have it, he knows you would at one point tell him about the things you’re going through. he trusts you on that.

but at times, he knows when you need a bit more of a cheer up. sunoo loves spending his money on you, buying you clothes, makeup, accessories. one of the things he realizes is that you love wearing jewelry. finishing up an outfit by adding a necklace or bracelets along your arm. that conveniently also accentuates your features.

he spends alot of time with you picking out sets for outfits you were going to wear for upcoming events. jewelry, he realizes is one of the things that can easily cheer you up, besides himself, of course.

so as the sweet boyfriend he is, sunoo dragged you to the jewelry store despite your sulks. and the moment your eyes laid on the glittering pearls, all of your problems seem to dissipate. just like how your boyfriend had expected.

with a giggle, sunoo starts asking the seller to bring out the full set for you to try on. patting you on the head as you continue to stare at the long rows of necklaces.

“buy whatever you want, okay? after this we can cuddle for as long as you need”

YANG JUNGWON

he would remember everything you’ve ever said to him. you like sweets? he remembers. you like flowery perfume? he remembers. you like that one specific lipstick brand that’s best bought in singapore? he remembers.

it’s not odd to get home to a bunch off boxes filled with gifts and food and random things whenever jungwon’s just went home from a trip anywhere.

anything you’ve said even before you two were dating seems to be engraved in his head like muscle memory. he can be strolling through a street market in japan and a small store would catch his eye, the next moment you would find his hands filled with keychains of a cartoon character you said you liked years ago.

his job requires him to fly countries often and it used to be a problem for you both as it means you can’t really meet him as much. but after years, both you and jungwon still communicate alot. him usually asking to facetime you at random hours of the day or night and sending you pictures of what he was doing.

both of you readjusted quite well to this arrangement and thankfully his work doesn’t demand a long period of time during those trips.

“babe there’s no way i can finish all of this by myself” you laugh seeing all of the things he bought you.

“then we can finish them together” he says, dimples peeking out through the smile “that way i can come by more often”

NISHIMURA RIKI

as days start to get more busy, you and your boyfriend find yourselves going on a short getaway to the outskirts of the city.

he showed up at your apartment one night and pulled you out of it with no explanation. you weren’t going to question him though, letting him take you wherever.

you both ended up on a train station, waiting for the last train to arrive. about an hour later, you landed on a small, but really nice accommodation.

the moment you stepped in the room, riki launched himself on the bed sighing in content.

“i want to live here forever” he mumbles out against one of the pillows.

“we both still have school tomorrow” you sat on the bed beside him, opening up your phone to continue the essay you were working on. only for it to be tackled down a second later, your boyfriend pulling you to lay down beside him.

silence filled the room, only yours and your boyfriend’s soft breathing. riki mumbled something against your hair. you hummed in question.

“let’s get room service” he says. you knew it was going to happen, it always happened. but here you are, sat on the hotel chair with too much food both of you know you can’t finish. he had a habit of buying you whatever he thought you’d like and it wasn’t like he’s wrong. the bowls of food on the table are all your favorites and you don’t even know where to start.

he really doesn’t spend much on things, but he loves going on little getaways with you every once in a while. sleeping on the comfiest beds (besides his or yours) and eating room service. something about it just brings a peaceful kind of silence for him.

© junislqve 2024. liking, commenting, and rebloging are appreciated.

#── 🐚 junisfics ᝰ.ᐟ #© junislqve 2024 #enhypen smau #enhypen #enhypen texts #enhypen angst #enhypen x you #enhypen smut #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #enhypen x female reader #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung x you #park jay x you #park jongseong x reader #park jay x reader #park sunghoon x you #park sunghoon x reader #sim jaeyun x you #sim jaeyun x reader #sim jake x reader #kim sunoo #yang jungwon x reader #nishimura riki x reader #niki x reader #enhypen imagines #riki nishimura x reader #park jongseong #park sunghoon #sim jaeyun

[bth3cowboi]

pas de deux, cl16xreader

masterlist

pairing: charles leclerc x ballerina!reader

summary: In ballet, a pas de deux is a dance for two people. Sometimes between step and step, someone may fall in love.

format: social media au

( twitter )

( instagram )

charles_leclerc

liked by f1, wretchedswan and 1,544,873 others

wretchedswan

liked by charles_leclerc, yourfriend and 1,788 others

wretchedswan

liked by charles_leclerc and 5,870 others

wretchedswan winter season is over here in monaco🤍🦢❄️ so happy for the new year ahead! hoping for more nutcrackers, swans and good new pals

show all comments

yourfriend umm baby thats a man right there

wretchedswan new pal✨ yourfriend omg is that...? wretchedswan pal✨

user1 it was beautiful to watch you this year!

wretchedswan thank you!!

user2 monte carlo's superstarrrrr

( twitter )

( instagram )

wretchedswan

liked by charles_leclerc, joris_trouche, and 10,712 others

wretchedswan la fille mal gardée 🧺🌷💌 come see us at @/lesballetsdemontecarlo

tagged yourfriend;

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user1 rocking the handmaid's tail look

wretchedswan not everyone can relate

yourfriend they said jeté but all you heard was toi ate!!

wretchedswan cuntyyyyy

lesballetsdemontecarlo ❤️🌺

charles_leclerc Wow🤩💐

wretchedswan <3 user2 charles what are you doing hereeee user3 omg Charles????

user4 what is formula 1😭 i just came for the ballet content

user5 cars go vroom

user6 are you charles' girl now??? uugh

user7 thought you were cuter

user8 girlie you're already on wag pages is it trueee

charles_leclerc

liked by wretchedswan, lewishamilton, and 1,900,433 others

charles_leclerc Enjoying the sun and the beautiful views😉☀️

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user1 my heart just BROKE

user2 so its true???😢

wretchedswan cute👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨 I think I had better sights tho

charles_leclerc Impossible, nothing compares to you user3 bro user4 nothing compares to youuu?? oh I died landonorris so cornyyy charles_leclerc mate?? wretchedswan don't break his heart lando💔 let him be poetic in his way charles_leclerc babe... landonorris HAHAHAH lameee🤣🫵🫵

user6 joris they got your man

user7 I wasn't expecting a charles leclerc hard launch at 6am but here I am

user8 the tifosi is weeping user9 every italian man just got their heart broken today

pierregasly Looking good, seems like you're both having some fun😏 invite us next time

charles_leclerc Soon, we want a double date francisca.cgomes yesss! wretchedswan 🥰🥰

wretchedswan

liked by charles_leclerc, joris_trouche, and 33,202 others

wretchedswan ballet intensives + things I ate this summer🍇🫒🩰

show all comments

user1 GIRL??

user2 oh let me see what charles' girlfriend eats- OH

user3 she heard the delulu girlies call her names and she said stay mad im winning lol

yourfriend tw for male

wretchedswan im still yours❤️‍🔥 yourfriend love u sm 🥺 dump him charles_leclerc Wow, you’re the best too👍 @/yourfriend yourfriend 😘😘

user4 theyre actually cute whattt

user5 you think charles was in that theater with a book trying to look mysterious?

user6 a wattpad fantasy but charles is the reader user5 in a 1D concert, Yn is harry styles user7 LMAOOOO

charles_leclerc perfect girl, je t'aime❤️

wretchedswan je t'aime aussi<3

user8 I, too, want to have this diet

user9 me 2 baby me 2

——

a/n: hope you liked this one!! is short and silly but well, I just wanted to write something ballet related lol. If anyone has requests or something to say my asks are open! and my masterlist is uppp

#f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 smau #f1 imagine #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #cl16 x reader #cl16 #cl16 imagine

[alastor-x-reader-stories]

To Rate a Hug - part 1 of ?

Tags: Alastor x Reader, Lucifer Morningstar x Reader, Humor, Antics, Fluff, Hugs, Reader is cat-like, shenanigans, Lucifer is a dork, Alastor is a petty bitch

“Who, in this room, is the most huggable?” Charlie asked, grinning ear-to-ear.

Your ears twitched, tilting your head at the question. “What?”

The residents of the Hotel were playing Truth and Dare as one of the redemption activities. Something about it being a good thing to be true to yourself and others? It was originally ‘Truth or Truth’ but Angel Dust complained saying if they had to play this game at all there should be a dare option.

You, being the hotel’s very own scaredy cat, only went with the Truth option. Charlie grinned, vibrating in her seat.

“Who’s the most huggable person in the room?”

You blinked. “Specify.”

“Huh?” The princess said “Um. I. What?”

“Do you mean who do I think would physically give the best hugs, who do I want to hug personally, or like, who I think is most likely to give me a hug?” You said, rocking a bit in your seat.

“Oh! All three?”

“Ok. Um.”

You scanned the room. Charlie was vibrating with excitement, waiting for your answer. Vaggie was watching Charlie more than you, a soft smile on her face. Angel Dust struck a pose, kicking one leg up in the air and shooting you a wink. Husk was pretending he wasn’t there. Nifty wasn’t paying much attention either, flitting about dusting and the like. Alastor hadn’t bothered looking up from the book he was reading and Lucifer… was staring right at you, vibrating much the same way his daughter was.

The Morningstars were so cute.

“Um. Okay, no judgement, though?” You said, grinning sheepishly.

“Of course, of course!” Charlie said with a smile, waving away your concerns.

“Wouldn’t be judgin’ ya unless ya told us who you wanted to f-“

Vaggie whapped Angel Dust over the head with a rolled up newpaper before he could finish that sentence. She sat back down and smiled.

“Go ahead, hun.”

“Okay…” you hummed, pretending you never thought about this before in your entire after life. You had. But that’s an embarrassing thing to mention so you pretended you didn’t.

“I’d say who seemed the best at hugs, physically, would be Husk.”

The cat’s ears twitched.

“Who I’d want to hug personally would be Alastor.”

One ear flicked to point in your direction.

“And I think Charlie’s most likely to hug me.”

“You’re right!” Charlie grinned, squishing you into a hug immediately and just as quickly letting you go. “I do love to give hugs!”

You chuckled, ears laying down bashfully. “Yeah, um, okay. Who’s next?

“You spin it, toots.” Angel said, shoving the bottle from Charlie to you. The group was using an empty wine bottle as the decider, and now it was your turn. You spun it and it landed on Lucifer.

“All right, Luci. Truth or dare?”

He jumped a bit like he forgot he was participating. Rubbing the back of his neck, he looked to the side and thought the floor was a lot more interesting. “Er. Truth?”

You hummed, tapping your claw against your chin. “Ooookaayyyy… Um. What’s your favorite color of the alphabet?”

“Well-“ He stopped mid-word, blinking one eye at a time. “….What.”

You cackled, unable to help yourself. “Well?”

“Answer the question, yer majesty!” Angel chimed in.

“Yeah, Dad!” Charlie said.

“But- What- how do I- I dunno, the number 5???”

You nodded sagely. “Good answer.”

“’Eh, I prefer-“

“Angel, I swear to heaven and back if you say 69 I’m going to rip your limbs off.” Vaggie growled.

The spider shrugged “I was gonna say 420, actually.”

“Ha! Weed.” You grinned. You’ve never actually touched the stuff because it smelled gross but it was fun to joke about.

Lucifer sighed and gave the bottle a spin. It landed on Husk.

“Right, Bar Cat, Truth or Dare?”

“I have a name, your majesty.��� Husk snorted. “And. Dare.”

Lucifer grinned “Hee hee hee, okay. I dare you to… make me a drink!”

Husk rolled his eyes. “Coming right up.” He got up and left, then returned with a drink he passed to the king and sat himself back down, giving the bottle a lazy spin.

The old cat was really good at the art of misdirection. So if he carefully stopped the bottle with the very edge of his tail no one would notice. Except Alastor. But he didn’t mention anything because he wanted to see where this would go.

After all, he had it land on you.

You sighed, rocking a bit in your seat. “Truth.”

“Not even gonna consider a dare?” Angel said with a huff. “Kinda boring.”

You stuck your tongue out at him. He flipped you off. Life continued.

Husk sighed, leaning against his hand and humming as though he didn’t already know his question. “Ok. I guess… Why would I be the ‘best at hugs’?”

You sunk a bit in your seat. “Um. Well. Your fur looks soft…”

Alastor’s ear twitched again.

“…and you got those big ol’ wings.”

Lucifer found the wall interesting all of a sudden.

“…and you just kind of look like a care bear.”

Angel Dust burst out laughing. Husk’s ears went back, eye twitching. “Ex-fucking-scuse me?”

You ducked your head “I didn’t- I’m sorry I didn’t mean anything bad- I-“

Husk deflated, rubbing his face. “Right, right, m’bad.” He still looked irritated but managed to get his voice to sound indifferent. “…Why do I look like a care bear?”

“The hearts.” You said meekly, pointing a claw at him. “You have hearts in your ears, little hearts for your eyebrows, and your nose is shaped like a heart, and you have hearts on your hands.”

“…You know, they’re right.” Vaggie said, glancing over at the old cat. Charlie cooed.

“I never noticed that before!”

“I did!” Nifty chirped, scuttling on top of the table. “I did I did I did!” Her eye narrowed, pointing her feather dust threateningly at all those in attendance “But no one listened to Nifty.”

“Who’s Nifty?” You said with a shit-eating grin. The small little goober’s eye widened, surprise and wonder crossing her face.

“I’M Nifty….” She hummed, tapping at her chin.

You nodded sagely. “You are Nifty.”

…

“All right I’m done.” Husk said, pushing out of his seat and leaving. Charlie sighed. She thanked everyone for showing up and participating and the various people in attendance left for their own rooms.

You scurried off as soon as Charlie said you were done for the day and curled into your bed happily. Sweet, sweet privacy. Away from prying eyes-

“Hello there!”

You screeched, fur floofing up to the point you just looked like a puffball with eyes.

Alastor cackled. You crawled under the blankets to hide from him. Alastor was under the blankets with you, grinning. You flailed again, scrambling off the bed and darting underneath it. Guess where the fuck Alastor was.

Several more repeats of that later and you were laying face-down into your pillows with the Radio Demon standing over you.

“Well, that was amusing!” He said.

“I’m glad you had fun.” You muttered.

“I did, I did! Now, a question.”

“And now, an answer.”

“Very good. So. Earlier you had said that you wanted to hug me?” He leaned further towards you, quirking an eyebrow. “Why?”

“To annoy you, mainly.” You said flatly. Static surged. You flinched, ducking back under the blankets. There he was again, sitting on your bed with his legs crossed, eyes glowing brighter in the makeshift blanket fort. He had his hand on your back before you could dart again, keeping you in place.

It wasn’t forceful, though. You could sliver around if you wanted. What was awkward was how close he was to you now. Eyes shining in the dark, breath warm against your face, the smell of his cologne in your nose. And those fluffy ears squished slightly by the blanket.

The Radio Demon had no business looking so huggable.

“Now was that really the reason?” He said, eyes lidded. “From your reaction to our close proximity, I feel as though you were simply teasing me.”

“Partially.” You said. “I mean, yeah, it’d be partially to annoy you. But overall you just kind of seem really…huggable.”

He rose an eyebrow “Huggable?”

“Yeah?” You snorted “That’s what the question was about?”

Alastor leaned closer, voice dropping an octave as he purred “Absolutely nothing else you were thinking about?”

“Well now I’m thinking you need a lozenge.” You said, pushing him back “Voice sounded a bit hoarse there. And before you ask, no, I’m not that stupid and I know what you’re implying. But really that’s it.  You just seem really huggable.”

“How so?” He asked, voice thankfully back to normal.

Alastor had just been messing with you the moment prior. Usually those kinds of comments lead to certain kind of things. Though he would never partake in those ‘things’, the reactions of those who found him attractive were very entertaining. This just confused him.

You shrugged. “I dunno? I just look at you and go ‘mmm yep that’s a huggable person alright’. I mean. Assuming you didn’t hurt or kill me.”

“Oh, I might.” Alastor grinned. Your flight-or-flight instincts kicked in and you jerked back, being stopped again by Alastor’s hand. The instinct kicked in a second time when your face was suddenly pressed against his chest, a deep chuckle reverberating through him. “I jest, my dear.”

“You’re the deer.” You said. He chuckled again. “So. Uh. Is this permission to hug you…?”

“Ha! No.” He shadow-traveled out from the blanket fort and the thing crashed down on you. You reacted to this startling by running straight off the bed into the wall. Alastor’s cackle echoed in your ears as you de-tangled yourself from your blankets. You shot him a peeved look before gathering up your bedding and making yourself comfortable again. Alastor was gone by the time you were settled and you rolled your eyes and decided to forget about that encounter.

However life decided you weren’t done with the day yet. Someone knocked on the door. You groaned, melodramatically opening the door up.

“Uh? Bad time?” Lucifer said with a lopsided grin.

“Oh? Nah, I’m just being silly.” You said with a shrug. “What’ s up?”

“Uh. Well.” Lucifer said, rubbing at the back of his neck “You know, earlier, when you were saying Husk was the most huggable person ‘cause of the wings and stuff? I mean. I have wings.” He materialized his wings and spread them for emphasis. “And. Uh. So. I guess I’m wondering why I‘m not huggable….?” He ducked his head down, grin wobbly as more of his face turned red.

You blinked.

“Um. Sorry?”

Lucifer’s grin dropped entirely and he started flailing his arm around “No no no! You don’t have anything to apologize for! I’m sorry- I! Fuck I’m bad at this.” He sighed, running a hand down his face. You tilted your head, confusion beginning to cross into concern territory.

“Um-“

Lucifer disappeared into a cloud of sparkles only to immediately reappear right next to you.

“My apologies for my silly doppleganger.” He said, checking his nails nonchalantly. “In anycase, I have an important question for you.”

You snorted, crossing your arms “Ah, yes. Your doppleganger. Who is not you.”

Lucifer waved you off “Most certainly not, I am a superb mentlegan- Ah, FUCK!”

Lucifer poofed into sparkles again and reappeared on your opposite side. He dusted his shirt off “Whoops, there was another one of those imposters of mine. Sorry about that.”

You covered your mouth, trying to hide your laugh. “Yeah. There seems to be a lot of those right now.”

“Indeed.” He said, checking his nails. “Can’t blame them for wanting to pretend to be the King of Hell.”

“I dunno.” You said with a hum “I’ve heard rumors the King of Hell is kind of a huge dork.”

“Ah, yes- wait really?”

You laughed. He chuckled a bit, fidgeting with his sleeves. “Uh, yeah. My antics aside. Uh. Can I ask a question?”

“Sure. I see no reason why not.” You said with a shrug.

“Um. So. How would you rate my huggable-ness?” He said, grin snaking back up on his face. You smiled at him.

“May I get a sample for study?”

Lucifer’s wings twitched “Oh-Oh! Yeah! Sure!”

You chuckled and hugged him. He went tense for a moment, stock-still. Then the King of all of Hell practically melted into you, arms wrapping around you and squeezing tightly. Wings gently curled around you both. Soft and warm.

Overall, very solid hug. Only issue is you had to lean down a bit to do so.

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #allright i'm a luci simp what do ya want from me #humor #fluff

[leafostuff]

One Heck of a Joyride[Ft. WooAh's Nana]

Word Count: 14-15K~ words

Collab with @octoberautumnbox

My Author's Notes: we are so excited to finally release this fic for yall, me and box have been working on this fic since the end of FEBRUARY (almost 3 months) and we have been working on it so hard to make it the best it can be so I really hope you will enjoy this fic

@octoberautumnbox's author notes: there u have it! took the better part of three months, but it was really fun to work on :DDDD Thanks to leafo for making sure i didn't slack LMAO

No tags since it is too long but this is fluff and smut

Thanks: of course @octoberautumnbox for working with me on this amazing collab. @4m1rz for being my lovely beta reader and @libraryoferos for being my motivation to not be lazy on this fic

And so without any further preface, let's get started, shall we?

================================================

“And I expect you all to get along this year. Leave the past behind you as you all face a new future together.” Sporadic applause rises slowly from the crowd and dies down twice as quickly. The dean sighs away from the mic and drifts offstage, leaving everyone disinterested in the rest of the program. It all goes by in a blur, and finally ends right as the air conditioners start to fail against the heat of a summer not-yet-ended. 

Your attention is drawn away from the droning on and on from the stage and towards the many characters that populate the theater with you. You catch glimpses of people talking with their friends, a few crazy hair colours, and the occasional sleeping student who’s no doubt already saving up hours for the all-nighters to come. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice someone in the front row with both people sitting next to her conspicuously leaning away. They seem to want to get up and leave her there by herself, but the way she gives no reaction despite the jeering tone coming from her seatmates leads you to think that she’s asleep herself. 

~~~

“So yeah, That's the tour, bucko. Check the map if you’re ever lost.” Your student tour guide points at the multi-colored document on your phone. Vaguely you recall the various little symbols: which classrooms you can sleep in, which bathrooms are haunted, which shortcuts are best, all of the must-know basics of college life. 

As you continue scanning around the campus, the girl from the assembly catches your attention again. She has her hood up this time, but you can tell it’s her; her quick pacing and how she is not looking around at anyone making you believe that she’s trying her best to hide.

“What about that one? Do we not talk about her?” you ask, pointing at the oblivious figure walking past, drawing eyes and whispers much like your own. 

Your guide scoffs at the absurd idea. “That’s Nayeon. And no, we don’t. She fucked up last year, big time. Got a bunch of us in trouble. So stay away from her, she has those goody-two-shoes germs.” he says, walking away as while signaling you to follow him.

You wonder what she could have done to gain such a reputation. She was adorable earlier with her hood off, but the way people talk about her makes you want to steer clear against your own will. 

~-~-~-~

Curiosity ends up killing the cat, and you manage to gather bits and pieces of the incident from last year from gossip, class lore, and even the way some professors acted:

“She’s the luckiest bitch in the world with not a single shred of common sense. Seriously, who goes and rats on a hundred other students like that?”

“The test incident shows she only looks out for herself, even if it means bringing down the entire class.”

“There’s really no excuse for it. You have the answer key in your hand, of course you take a picture! You don’t just leave it where it’ll incriminate some other innocent loser and say you’re only trying to do the right fucking thing.”

The sheer number of factoids you gather from the wild bunch of sources only slightly make sense. Unfortunately, trying to piece them together only took up more space and brainpower which you should have used to study for your midterms coming up. Keep to yourself and you can just barely pass and move on; there is no time for college drama.

After the exam, you approach the professor to ask about possibly bumping up your grade. You decided to maybe half-ass an extra credit assignment and get the lowest passing score, but you resolve to just see where it goes. While lost in thought, you nearly bump into the small girl in front of you. already talking to the teacher, and by the way they’re whispering, it seems like it’s something serious. 

“I’m not sure what you’re trying to do here anymore, Miss Kwon,” the professor admits as he takes off his glasses and rubs his nose bridge. “None of this was necessary. I thought we wanted to leave all this behind us.”

Nayeon looks down to her toes in defeat. “I’m sorry, Sir. I was just thinking, maybe I’d get sent out of class this time.” Her voice cracks, giving away her vulnerable state: she’s near tears but trying to fight everything back to look tough. Sadly for her, you think, none of it is working.

“Look, just try to lay low. It’s your last year before all of this starts to not matter anymore.” Your professor finally puts his glasses back on and looks Nayeon straight in the eye. “Trust me, you’re better off keeping your head down. You’ll be fine.”

She walks despondently off to the right and out the door. Your feet choose to follow her, but a sudden jolt restores your common sense. “And you, Mister New Guy, what seems to be the problem? Beside your dismal score, that is.”

You have a slight feeling you are not getting a higher score.

~-~-~

After talking it out fruitlessly with the professor, he releases you from his classroom and you make your way out. The conversation with him didn’t take long, and so you arrive to a few jeers and muffled laughter once you step outside.

“Serves her right. Trying all this bullshit isn’t gonna change anything.” 

“Seriously, cheating on a test she obviously studied for? How dense could she be?”

“I bet she just wants to show us up. She’ll study and then cheat, then she gets perfect marks on the test and she’ll show us she’s untouchable again.” 

You find it hard to believe that Nayeon would resort to something as convoluted and pointless as that, but then again, you really don’t know her to make a judgment. Whatever she was thinking, you agree that it was idiotic to pull that sort of thing, even if you didn’t see any of it.

The weather on campus is the right mix of cloudy and sunny, with rays of light shining respectfully on the grass and pavement of your college courtyard. Something tells you that people-watching by the gym feels like the perfect lunchtime activity for a day like this, so you find your way to the properly noisy setting and look for a spot out of the way. 

You settle on a spot by the side of the gym with the perfect amount of shade and wind, but you’re instead drawn further back to the rear by strange and irregular noises. Turning the last corner, you’re met with a surprising figure.

It was Nayeon, sitting with her back against one of the walls, her entire body curled up like a ball. You slowly inch closer and closer to her, and you realize the strange noises that you heard before were instead sniffles and cries coming from the lonely girl. Finally as you get close enough, Nayeon feels your presence and raises her head.

Her eyes were full of tears, who knows for how long she had been crying, and you could feel the sadness coming from her eyes; they were trying to tell you something, however, it's hard to figure out what. Her expression of sadness didn't stay for long though as soon enough her expression turns angry when you get closer to her, squatting down to look at the girl from a closer angle.

“Please, go away. Leave me alone.” The small girl pushes you away, but with her hand preoccupied wiping away her tears, she can’t do much to get rid of you. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you? You have the nerve to do what you did last year and still show your face?” The anger in your voice catches you off guard. Since when did you take it personally when it came to her?

“Oh fuck off, new guy,” she taunts. “So I’m fucking hiding here, what more do you want?” She tries to act tough again, but it’s painfully apparent to both of you that it isn’t working. At this point, you really do just want to leave her alone. And just like every other time, nothing’s stopping you. So why are you staying?

You breathe a sigh of defeat at the situation you find yourself in. “Look, I don’t have any sort of beef with you personally, but come on. This is pathetic. You’re only embarrassing yourself by doing all this bullshit that isn’t like you at all.”

“And what if it’s not like me?!” Her shout sends a few birds hiding in nearby bushes to take off. This sort of language takes you aback from her; Little Miss Perfect Kwon Nayeon, top honour student, teacher’s favourite pet, hating herself? 

“I… I don’t like being me, and I don’t like what I am.” She wipes her tears again and tries (and fails) to look you in the eyes once more. “So if you’re another member of the ‘I hate Nayeon’ club, well… Better show the club president some respect.”

She sits back down with her back against the wall. Nayeon's eyes are wet for the last time before she wipes them off and faces her lack of tears.

Normally in situations like those you would just walk away and ignore people like those for the rest of the school year, but for some reason with Nayeon in front of you, showing herself being weak, fragile, and sad, something about her makes it so you can't leave the situation alone. Curiosity gets the best of you, and you have to know why.

“No,” you turn back to her as a determined expression is painted on your face.

“What?”

“I'm not leaving you alone until you tell me.” You stand your ground, arms crossed, and Nayeon can't seem to be any more pissed than before. “What is going on? What do you mean you don't like yourself?” you ask.

For a while, no one dares to speak another word, and you wonder if what you have here is an argument. For a good few seconds, she stares at you intently as silence hangs heavy in the air. 

“You think,” she says defeatedly between sniffles, “that I'm Little Miss Perfect, right? Like everyone calls me ‘the straight-A girl?’ Well I’m not, and I’m tired of everyone saying so.” She fishes out a very used handkerchief from her pocket and wipes her eyes of tears, only for them to be replaced by more. 

“It can’t be that bad, Nayeon. People look up to you, I’m sure.” You finally notice your alarms are blaring and you’re put on high alert. What you just said was the exact wrong thing to say, and you’re at critical risk of involving yourself in her messy situation more than you should.

She side-eyes you, calculating if you’re being sincere or not. She stuffs her handkerchief back into her pocket carelessly as if knowing that she’ll only pull it back out again soon. She looks down at her hands, deep in thought, looking like she’s trying to grapple with something she might regret. 

Once she’s done, she fumbles around in her backpack. She fishes out a tiny black notebook she seems to keep so well hidden, on the cover of the notebook the words ‘Nana’s Bucket List’ are scrawled in big, bold, immature-looking letters.

“Throughout all of my life, I always wanted to be the top student, the best of the best like no one ever was, and I succeeded, you know…” she scoffs. “Top marks in Elementary, Middle school, and Valedictorian in high school.” She sighs and tries to fight back more tears, though you notice she’s a bit more successful this time, with a bit of hope and yearning in her eyes.

"But on the other side… The other side seems so great. I mean, I see all these movies and books about college life," she says in between residual sobs and hiccups. She opens the notebook, showing you a not-so-long list, and even though it's hard to see the text from the small size of the writing, you can make out a little bit of what’s written on the paper.

Cheat on a test 

Get drunk

Party all night

Dye my hair

Sing in an Open stage show

Sneak into a Public pool

Shoplifting

You know...

Most of what you read makes zero sense, and you’re half-convinced this girl is just crazy. You stare at the scribbled letters, hoping to draw more meaning from them, but Nayeon shuts the little notebook in your face and starts putting it back away. 

"I want to do them all. Drinking, breaking glass bottles, partying, all that stuff," she explains dreamily. She zips up her bag and pats it down, making sure it’s secure beside her, and turns her attention back to you, “I want to live like a normal girl, you know what I mean?” she asks, you are not sure if its because of the tears, but her eyes seem to glitter.

"That's very cliche, Nana," you jab at her, making fun of the nickname she gave herself.

"That's all I know, though. Please." She takes your hand in between hers and looks up at you, teary-eyed and seemingly begging for her life.”This wouldn’t kill you, all I’m asking for is some help crossing stuff off of the list.”

You hate how well it works on you: her big, round eyes, her adorable little pout, her cute pleading voice. It goes against everything you know, and even now you’re sure you don’t want to get involved in whatever this would turn out to be. And yet, despite even the most deeply ingrained lessons you’ve learned for yourself, all it takes is a brief moment for it to come crashing down.

With a disbelieving sigh and a sense of regret creeping in, you ask: “What’s in it for me?”

~-~-~-~

You take a bite of your burger and breathe out. Cheap bun, dubious patty, artificial cheese, it all takes you back to a past life. You're left to momentarily wonder how you ended up where you are now, and slowly it comes back to you. You messed up.

"So, about the list." Nayeon sets down her cup, ice cubes clinking against each other as they swirl around her soda. "I already did one. So that’s one less thing for us to do”.

"I can do that much math, Nayeon. What do you take me for?" You chomp down on a few fries grumpily. 

"I didn't mean it like that. All I'm saying is there are just a few more months left until graduation, so we'll need to be quick. We can’t be lazy about this." She pulls out the little black notebook and flips to an unfamiliar page. The words "cheat on a test" has doodles of a devil's horns and wings and tail around it, with lots of eyes and ears decorating the rest of the ruled paper. Above it, the poster you recognize from the movie "Bad Genius" is copied, albeit crudely, in a thought bubble.

"I did this one last year, don't ask. Anyway, this next one should be easy enough." She flips to the next page, showing a couple pictures of beer cups and wine bottles, surrounding the words “Get Drunk.”

“Wait, is this the ‘incident’ people hate you for? What even happened there?” You eat more of your fries, trying to hide your curiosity. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work and she nips the conversation in the bud.

“That’s not anything you need to know. What matters is now and the future. Now are you with me or not?” She snaps the notebook closed and yanks it away from your sight, back into the pocket she keeps it in. 

“I can’t help if I don’t know what exactly your deal is,” you say disappointedly. You pick up your own drink and take a sip, and the cool soda washes over your tongue and throat on the way down. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be with everything that’s going on.”

For a moment, you catch Nayeon’s gaze on you, dumbfounded. You could almost hear the gears in her head turning as she tries to process your logic, but it takes a while. As she thinks, though, you take a particular interest in how she handles it: her mouth is hanging slightly ajar and her eyes are only half-focused on wherever they’re pointed. You notice how delicately her bangs fall on her forehead, how her eyebrows furrow and crease, how she tries finding the right words yet can’t find the message she wants to send. Odd things to notice, surely, and yet here you are. You messed up.

It starts coming back to you. The jeers from your classmates as you walk down the hall grow louder in your ears, and you fight against your hands trying to cover them with the knowledge that none of it is real anymore. The tears you fight back all the time surface for another rematch, but with your current state, you may be at a disadvantage. 

Fortunately, she shocks you back into reality. “Hey, are you listening? I’m feeding you, so the least you could do is pay attention.” She bites a small chunk of her burger and chews, and you notice how her cheeks puff slightly and the corner of her mouth is decorated with a dollop of mustard. 

Cute.

1 + 2. Get drunk + Party All Night

“God, this is stupid,” you think to yourself, exiting the convenience store. With a plastic bag in your right hand and your phone in your left hand, checking the time and the address Nayeon sent you earlier today. Finding it was easier than you expected, and you tried not to let the walk to her dorm set any expectations for you.

You bring your knuckles to the wooden door and make three quick raps. It swings open very quickly and you’re dragged into the cozy space without even the slightest chance to take off your shoes. 

“You took forever! Did you bring the stuff?” She looks all over you and pats you down, looking for what you brought her. 

“Get off, will you? I put them all in my bag like a normal person.” You swing your backpack off your shoulder and carefully place it onto a nearby table. Nayeon takes a seat and waits excitedly for what you brought for the two of you. From your bag, you produce three bottles of soju, three five-packs of Yakult, six cans of beer, and four bags of chips. She eyes each item with absolute interest as they leave your backpack, and she hardly contains herself once you finish and zip up your bag once more. 

“Okay, so how does this work?” Her eyes sparkle with wonder, and while waiting for your instructions, it was clear that as much as she was excited, she was also inexperienced.

“First off, get us some shot glasses and a pitcher. Oh, and a can opener.” Nayeon bolts off to the cooking area, and you can hear drawers opening and shutting loudly. You start getting concerned when you hear plates start to clatter against each other, but thankfully it dies down quickly and she returns with two small glasses, a decently sized pitcher, and a can opener. 

“Shit. I meant bottle. Bottle opener.” Without even a hint of annoyance, she rushes back off into the kitchen and, after a few more rummaging sounds, she returns with the correct item. She really must not know what she’s doing.

“Come on, show me!” She shoves the bottle opener into your hand, and you’re left with no choice. 

“Don’t you have a roommate we have to worry about?” You pop the cap off one of the soju bottles and then tear the aluminum top off two bottles of Yakult. “She’s out with her own friends. Hurry!” Despite her starting to get on your nerves, you pour all three into the pitcher and swirl them around together. Once you’re done, you pour the mixture into each of the glasses until they’re full. 

“Bottoms up, Nayeon.” 

“Bottoms up!”

The both of you down your drinks: yours slowly crawls down your throat, but hers disappears straight into her stomach. She reels at the burning lines left by the alcohol all over her esophagus and takes a bit of time to recover. 

“Whoa, that was,” she says, and a burp erupts from her mouth, “intense.” She sways a little bit to the left before righting herself, and then overcompensates to lean to the left again. 

“Easy there, champ. We’ve got two more bottles to go through.” You pour another shot for each of you, hers first and then yours, and raise your glass once more.

“Open the chips now,” you tell her. “This’ll be less dreadful with food.”��

Both of you down your shots at the same time, and Nayeon reels at the sensation once more. 

“Does that get easier?” Her speech is slowly starting to slur, the poor thing. “I’m kinda feeling a little something right now, too…”

“Yes, but only if you keep going at it, idiot. Don’t down everything so quickly.” Grab one of the bags of chips yourself, open and present it to Nayeon on the center of the table.

“Eat. You’ll hate this less.” You take a handful of chips and bring all of them into your mouth. Once you do, you raise your eyebrow at her to tell her to do the same.

“Isn’t… *hic* being hungry the thing for… faster drunk?” 

“Apparently so, Nayeon. I don’t even know what I expected from you.” You take another shot, alone this time. She tries to pour her own shot, but fails miserably at getting the liquid anywhere near the inside of her shot glass. It’s adorable how she tries, though.

You pour her another shot despite a small voice telling you maybe she isn’t cut out for this much in such a short time. You shove the voice aside in favor of Nayeon’s own words: “We pregame, drink a little, and then we go. Party starts at 7:30, so we leave here by 7 o’clock.” Her shot glass fills with the drink, and you place it in front of her, making sure at least to keep an eye out for what might happen next. 

She successfully picks up the glass and, sans the spills she made on the glass's way from the table to her mouth, drinks everything she could. She slams the glass onto the table in no light movement and you have a slight inkling of regret at letting her do that to herself. 

“You… We have to… Fuck.” Nayeon’s head droops and she catches her face with her hands. She may have underestimated how strong soju is, or maybe what being drunk actually does to a person. A groan emanates from behind her palms, and you notice she’s having trouble holding herself up. 

“Aren’t we going out after this? You might wanna slow down, idiot.” You pour yourself another shot and drink it leisurely. Nayeon tries leaning back onto the chair, and she finally pries her hands away from her eyes. She does a few quick blinks, and she tries to focus her sight on you. Her head sways a little bit, and it dawns on you that you may have overestimated her. 

“I’m okay… just… we have to go.” She tries to stand up, but she wobbles dangerously and you have to catch her. Dive under her and take on her weight, thankfully not too heavy, and keep her from hitting the floor. She mumbles a bit about something you can only kind of understand, but it's enough to guide your next decision.

“Forget it,” you grunt as you plop her back into her chair, “we're not going anywhere.” An exasperated sigh leaves your lungs, and you head off to the kitchen to return with a large bottle of cold water.

“No… we have to go. We'll be late.” Nayeon tries to get up again, but there's no strength left in her body. She sits motionlessly, probably thinking that she's already stood up, and it gives way to a confused look on her face as to why she's still in the same place.

You fill a proper-sized glass with water and hand it to her, which she drinks obediently. You fill her palm with potato chips which she also eats without objection. The way her jaw moves, clumsy and slow, signals a threat that she might just fall over any minute.

You move your chair to her side and sit there, allowing Nayeon to lean her head on you. Her hair covers her reddening face, and her hiccups arrive in growing force.

“If you're still in there, Nayeon,” you say quietly, “we're not going out. I can't look after you this closely at a party.” All she does to respond is nod. Her hiccups are punctuated intermittently with sniffles, which you take as a sign that she knows she has no power left to object. 

Still, you feel bad for her as her plans fall through. Despite the responsible thing to do, put her to bed and leave, you kick yourself mentally before deciding to stay anyway.

“Movies and snacks?”

~-~-~-~

Before you know it, the night goes by just as quick. You go through the list of movies she’d always wanted to watch: The Truman Show, The Great Gatsby, Mean Girls, and even then there’s still a few left on her list. You could tell she was watching properly halfway through the first, and that was the telltale sign that she’d sobered up. 

You drink a bit more with her in between movies, and she would frequently pause to get up and put on a song to dance to. “It keeps me awake,” she said, “I can’t fall asleep before the good part happens.” The songs she put on are generic pop and the kinds you skip whenever they come up, but you let it pass for tonight.

At some point, she pulls out an old Wii and challenges you to Mario Kart. “I am undefeated in this game. I’m not even that good, everyone else that challenged me just sucked.” You take her up on her offer, and the match begins. You try and almost get ahead of her in a few of the turns, but she would always take back her lead at the slightest opportunity of you hitting a wall or missing an item. And the way she glows with pride every single time she crosses the finish line before you do, the sudden brightness that fills her face when she wins race after race, the confidence it gives her that she isn’t actually the worst person in the world, all of it is a sight to behold. People may see Kwon Nayeon as an arrogant goody-two-shoes traitor, but the way you see her now is different: just someone with a past to outgrow. 

Right as the last movie’s credits start rolling, mischievous thin rays of dawn sunlight slip past the tiny gaps in the curtains. Both you and Nayeon have little energy left for anything else, and you maybe think it’s time to call it a night and go home.

“Let me walk you out,” she says while trying to rub the sleep out of her eyes for a little bit longer. You both get up and walk to the door, and as it opens your faces are flooded with a world right before it wakes. Dewdrops sit respectfully on leaves and blades of grass, birds are only starting to stretch their wings, and the crisp morning air fills your lungs with a calm grace. 

You turn back to Nayeon, who you find is still admiring the dawn, and grasp her elbow. “Sit with me.” 

You both squat down and take your seats again on her doorstep. Clouds roll in and dot the sky, wandering on the blank canvas of today, eagerly waiting for sunlight to block out. The sun peeks over the horizon and the first proper rays start to arrive, spreading warmth where they land. Nayeon meets your eyes one last time, and the pair of you find a sleepy and still a bit drunk person when you look at each other.

“Well,” you say as if it was a farewell, “good night, Nayeon. And good morning.”

“Good night,” she giggles back, “and good morning to you too.”

3. Sneak into a Public Pool

“Are you sure about this?” Nana’s tone is subdued by fear. Her voice shakes and struggles to be as quiet as possible, but at the same time you get the feeling that if you didn’t need to be quiet, she’d be yelling right now and trying to get the both of you to leave.

“Can you please shut up? I’m trying to focus!” You find the first of the pins and push it out of the way. For a moment, you lament how restricted you are: this could have been such a simple lock to break, replace even, but the girl dragging you around was deathly insistent on leaving as little damage and evidence as possible. 

“You shut up! I'm whispering here!” Anger rises in her voice, and you almost feel anger in yours too. You're able to stop it though, and you remind yourself that if ever a guard was on watch that actually cared about this place, they'd be easily outrun.

The lock presents more of a challenge than you thought; despite the agonizingly simple solution of snapping its shackle, its inner mechanisms are harder to crack for whatever reason. Taking it pin by pin is supposed to be an easy task, but the warm and humid air and the incessant nagging seem to debilitate you. It’s such a nice night out for a swim, why make this any harder than it needs to be?

After what seemed like eternity you finally manage to pick the lock, sighing in relief as the both of you head forward quietly, but cautiously looking side to side just in case. The metal-grate door swings open slowly, avoiding any creaking sounds it may make otherwise, and the both of you enter the pool area.

“I gotta say Nayeon, this went better than I thought it would,” you say, both of you looking at the rectangular box of water which unlike during the day, was completely still, no waves, no splashes, just the water. It glistened and reflected all manner of light: the pool lights above and below the water, the yellow street lamps far off on the sidewalk, and the moon overhead, singing tones of wonder and mystery to those touched by its borrowed glow.

Off to the side, you find Nayeon fiddling with the hem of her shirt. Her head whips round incessantly as she tries to keep a lookout of the surroundings rather poorly. Sigh a deep one, and finally go over and take your seat next to her. 

“Thanks… gimme a sec.” She finally grabs the hem decisively. The fabric crumples a bit under her grip and folds as it's pulled up.

You can’t help but watch as the shirt starts to leave her body, revealing a slim and toned tummy underneath. Your breath hitches as it crawls higher, reaching her face and obscuring her sight, and she inadvertently shows off a dark purple sports bra that’s… a size too small. Your gaze lingers on her cleavage and the flesh of her boobs lightly spilling out of the garment.

Nana turns around and you’re treated with the view of a beautiful back and shoulders to die for. The way her body twists and turns in the slightest ways to negotiate the shirt off of her form is the most sensual dance you’ve ever seen.

And you realize you’re staring. Fortunately for you, she doesn’t seem to notice, and she continues on to fold the shirt properly before setting it next to her sports bag. You opt not to risk staring any longer, and you decide to get rid of your own shirt. You strip quickly, and your shirt flies off approximately near Nayeon’s things in a messy pile by itself.

Sit on the edge of the pool, dip your feet into the water. There’s absolutely no reason for it to be this warm, you think, but whatever the case may be, it feels like a tea that’s just about to go cold. This, coupled with the humid air and quiet atmosphere, makes for a perfect night to spend on whatever this is with her. 

She joins you and takes her seat at the edge of the pool, and in every other situation, you’d ask her to back off a bit. Instead, as she lays her head on your shoulder and takes your hand in between hers, you lose your steel in the most important of times. 

“I’m scared.” Her eyes never leave the water, taking in the light dancing on its surface. Her face is fraught with worry, and while you know it’s for no good reason, you nevertheless try to reassure her.

“Yeah, someone might jump out of the bushes and arrest us for swimming in a swimming pool,” you say mockingly. “They’re gonna take us to court on the charges of ‘using something the way it was meant to be used’ and we’re gonna get life sentences. When we’re all old and wrinkly they’re gonna sit us in the electric chair.”

“Okay, I get your point. But still, though, I’m scared.” She grips your hand tighter, and for some reason you can’t resist her. Place your other hand over hers and try to calm her down. Nana takes a deep breath with her eyes closed, and finally looks at you with a reserved grin.

“Alright, I’m good. Let’s go.” 

You feel her hand on your back, and warmth spreads from her palm. Her smile grows just a bit wider and her eyes follow suit. Her teeth show themselves from between her lips, and you’re almost tempted to dive right in. 

Lucky for you, she helps. The hand on her back suddenly applies more pressure, pushing you to the pool and causing a splash going all directions. Collect your thoughts and raise your head above the water to see Nana, face full of laughter, right before she dives in the water with you.

It takes a second, but her head resurfaces and you find yourself relieved. She catches her breath once more, and before you know it, you're met with a faceful of chlorinated water. “What are you staring at?” She says between hearty laughs. 

Wipe the water from your face, find the humor. Laugh with her, and face her properly.

Another shade of Kwon Nayeon. Granted, it's one with no makeup and way less clothes than usual, but none of that takes away from her natural, elegant beauty. It's captivating, the way her figure glides around the water, the way the cool night air wisps around the pair of you, the way the moon throws its rays around the world, your world, so haphazardly. 

Another faceful of water, and you snap out of your daze. “Creepy ass,” she snorts happily. She splashes you again, and this time you fight back. 

“Race you around the pool.” You start paddling, and the water grows loud against your ears. She says something back to you and starts paddling herself to catch up.

“Yeah,” you think to yourself, “whatever this is with her.”

4. Sing in an Open Mic

“Another night, another goal,” you muse, sitting in your car with Nayeon in the passenger seat. It has become quite a routine that every time she wants to do something on her bucket list she asks you to pick her up. You don’t mind too much — she pays for gas after all. 

“Where do we go this time?” Nayeon just shoves her phone in your face, showing a map with directions to some bar out of town. She looks at you expectantly, but without any more information than what you’re currently getting, you’re at a loss for what she’s trying to make you see.

“A club.”

“Exactly.”

“We already did ‘get drunk.’”

“I know. This is different.”

“How so?”

“Take me here. Make me sing. Take me home.”

The pieces connect in her head and she pulls out the notebook again. She flips to a page you again haven’t seen, and when she shows it to you you’re treated to the sight of “Open Mic Stage” in graffiti-style letters and the poster of “Wedding Singer” scrawled in the bottom right corner of the page. 

“If you have the map, why not just do this yourself? You didn’t need to wait for me. If anything, I’d only laugh at how bad you might be.” You push away her phone and notebook, choosing to return your attention to the sidewalk instead. The boba tea place you keep hearing about is nearby. 

“That’s the thing,” Nayeon interjects again, “I have been there before. I listened to all the people singing, and they’re… some are good. I don’t know if I am, but I got shy at the last minute and I never even got near the stage.” She grabs your sleeve and your attention. “I need you to make me sing. Don’t let me chicken out.”

You shrug, “Sure, let's do it.”

~-~-~-~

Taking up two seats at the bar, you try and seem to fail at helping Nayeon calm down. Her guitar rests against the bartop beside her while she fans herself hurriedly with her hand. “It’s so nerve-racking… I knew this was a mistake,” she adds before turning back and trying to leave the place, however, you stop her in her tracks

“Come on, you worked so hard for this,” you say, recalling the number of recordings she sent you: one for each take she was doing. “You can do this,” you continue reassuring her, knowing she’s more ready than ever. At the same time, you could see your friend get more nervous by the second, now taking more sips of her water bottle.

“But what if I miss a chord, or I sing badly? Everyone will laugh at my mist–'' You know at this point she’ll only spiral to worse and worse thoughts, so you nip it in the bud and stop her right there. You take both her shoulders in your hands, making Nayeon stop her nervous rambling, and her cheeks turn a shade of pink.

“I believe in you, Nana. just take a deep breath.” You stop to let her do as you say, taking a deep breath in and slowly breathing it out. The tension leaves her with each breath she takes, and you find a moment to keep her stable. “Good, I am sitting right here, not leaving for any reason, so if you feel nervous, just find me. Look at me.” Her gaze softens at your promise, and her lips form a tiny smile in response to your words. 

Hearing the current open mic singer finishing up his song, you send her off with some final words. “Your turn now, Nana. Break a fucking leg.” You leave her shoulders as her smile slowly starts to grow.

You watch her heading toward the stage, taking her guitar out of the cover, and taking her seat on the chair in front of the mic. “Hey,” she starts, “I am Nayeon… and I’m gonna sing Spring Day by BTS… I, uhh, hope you enjoy.”

She takes one last deep breath as you find her gaze on you. You return a reassuring smile, and Nayeon’s eyes fly back to her guitar. She strums her first chord, and the crowd’s welcoming applause rises.

“I’m missing you, when I say that I miss you more, I’m missing you…” Nayeon’s fingers strum the strings delicately, and it enchants you how graceful and in control she is of her instrument. The wood and metal of her guitar work together under her guidance to produce a beautiful sound, one you feel deep inside you'd never have heard the beauty of if not here, not now.

The way her lips move to articulate her words is heavenly, like she has you under a benevolent spell to bring you a rare sort of peace. It captivates you how she carries herself; behind her tough outer shell is a scared and confused layer, which hides a soft and optimistic core and wants to chase a brighter, happier future by cherishing the present. You marvel at your luck, that you were permitted to see so much of her, and how openly she welcomed you in when all she knew was aloneness and to shut people out. 

“Snowflakes falling from the sky, are drifting further by and by…” Her heavenly voice draws you in, and it commands your attention like it speaks directly to your soul. The sound of Nayeon tugs on your heartstrings, pulling you closer to its source, and you let yourself get whisked away.

And to its source you look; find a girl with courage like you’d never seen. See Kwon Nayeon in a different light than the harsh monotones of the classroom fluorescents, but in a spotlight that she takes up with everything in her soul. It’s a different shade of her: a shade of Nayeon that only you could comprehend, a part of her that only you had the privilege to understand.

“I breathe you out there somewhere, like smoke in the air…” The space grows warmer, like a hearth welcoming you home. Your surroundings quiet down as Nayeon pulls them deeper and deeper with her subconscious command: rest, lay down your worries and fly for the moment towards your peace. You look around, and every fellow face in the crowd you see has their eyes fixed on Nayeon’s performance; they’d never know it, but it’s the debut of a person coming into a whole new life free of regret and cowardice. It’s Nayeon building herself up from the rubble of a past that she aims to forget. 

“Flowers blooming towards the sky, has winter finally passed by?” The noise of the world seems to die down, as if just you and Nayeon are the only two things in existence. The pace of her strumming slows, as do the lyrics that escape her mouth. Every note she produces is deliberate, gentle, comforting, and for once you feel like you’re able to imagine a brighter tomorrow like her. 

With her. 

The song draws to a close, and she looks all over the crowd as they start to clap. You can't help but join in. Nayeon just bows lightly, and you can feel how happy she is that everything went well in her song. As she steps off the stage, you leave your spot and head toward her.

With both of you only a couple of steps apart, you chuckle lightly, “Well it wasn't so bad was—” You were stopped, caught off guard by your friend, dashing to you with open arms and crashing into your chest, wrapping her arms around you, and pulling you into an embrace. 

No words are spoken; both of you just stand there, hugging each other, her face nuzzling your chest as you could faintly feel her heartbeat. You were quite surprised with Nayeon being so open with you, since it was just a short time ago you made your promise to help. 

“Thank you…” she says, now releasing you from her embrace, noticing how her eyes shed small tears, that you couldn't figure out if they are tears of sadness, or happiness.

“... Always here for you Nayeon.”

“Please… call me Nana,” she says. She takes her notebook and crosses off another line from her bucket list, and as she walks toward the exit, you make way for the people coming by to greet her for the performance.

You can't help but wonder… has something changed after that performance?

5. Shoplifting

“Pick something already, it's not that hard,'' you remark impatiently while tapping your feet. Both of you are staring at the snack section of the local convenience store near your college, and Nana hovers her hand over the selection of snacks to look for the perfect one.

“Stop rushing me, I'm trying to choose which one will not get me caught,” she replies, still focused. The veteran petty thief in you groans, recalling your highschool days where nicking a cigarette or two (or ten) every once in a while gave you back huge chunks of your monthly budget. You miss the simplicity of it, and you once again find the restriction of being so careful more annoying than anything else. How come for Nayeon it is such a big struggle to steal one snack? You shoot the question up to whichever god might be listening, and you even half-expect an answer back. 

“You are thinking about it too much, the cashier is probably not gonna notice even if you stole something that made noise,” you add, tapping your foot rapidly, like you were some parent spending too long in the toy section.

“Well, please forgive me, oh thug master, it’s my fault that I never did that shit before!” Her whispers are loud enough for you to hear clearly, your less-than-welcoming attitude leading her to take a deep sigh.

“Fine, if you want to make it easier, do the buy one steal one method,” you explain. 

“The what?”

“Well to make it simpler than it already is, you dolt, you take two things, one you buy normally, and the other one you don't pay for,” you added as it seems to all make sense in Nayeon’s head. “Defeats the fucking purpose why we’re here, but really, the longer we spend here to leave with just four things, the more anyone will suspect us.”

Despite your best efforts to hurry her, they all seem to only make her take even longer. Her brow furrows deeper, as if trying to form lasers in her eyes to burn holes through the plastic wrappers. 

Your patience wears thinner by the moment, and you resolve to isolate before you lose it completely. “So if you’ll excuse me, I will get my shit and meet you outside,” you say, leaving her alone in the aisle.

As a promise to yourself not to shoplift anymore, you decide to buy just one pack of cigarettes. You light one of them as you lean against one of the store’s walls, watching the sun start to set. Find yourself sitting down, admiring the beauty of a day near its end, taking in the world around you.

Two cigarettes and fifteen minutes later, a small ding sounds from somewhere in the front of the store. It’s Nayeon, half-running out of the building, her face painted with worry as she finds and walks towards you.

“So, you did it?” A smile forms on Nayeon’s face as she takes her right hand to her jean’s pocket, revealing a small candy bar. She brandishes the candy around like a magic wand, as if trying to charm you into being proud of her. 

“Well… it's something,” you nod, while the two of you start towards her dormitory.

“Oh don’t say ‘it’s something’ when you didn't steal anything,” she exclaims. She holds the candy bar up against the setting sun, examining its entire wrapper. Now that you’re a considerable distance from the store, the worry on her face has been replaced completely by pride and excitement.

“Well I don’t shoplift anymore, the only reason I'm letting you do it is because you wanted the experience, which by the way,” you scoff, plucking the snack out of her hands, “all of that was for a chocolate bar.” This earns you a pretty strong punch on the shoulder, and the force loosens your grip on the snack enough for Nayeon to steal it back.

“Shut up,” she says, her cheeks seeming to grow a small shade of pink. She walks faster, leaving you no choice but to speed up as well.

6. Dye my Hair

“Do you think blonde hair will suit me?” Nana asks, holding the color card next to her face. You come in for a closer look, but as you stare you stop and wonder why you even did so in the first place. 

“Yeah… uhh yeah, I think it can suit you well.” You weren't an expert in hair styles and colors, so honestly unless it was a color that was actually hideous, everything was fair game.

Nana smiles at your response and picks out a box of blonde hair dye to add to her basket. You’re a bit nervous that she wants to dye it at home with you, but any attempts you made to convince her to see an actual stylist have been dismissed. “It’s easy,” she said, “there’s instructions on the box.”

“So, how was it?” You’re half-convinced that the bleach is eating through your rubber gloves, but you soldier on.

“Was what?” Nayeon checks herself out in the mini-vanity mirror in front of her. You have to swat her hands away from her head with your elbows, but apart from that she stays on her best behavior.

“You know,” you shrug, “this whole thing. The stealing, the swimming, the dyeing your hair.” You try to keep the bleach from dripping onto your arms, mostly aiming for the scattered sheets of newspaper the two of you prepared on the floor, but there’s only so much you can do. You just resolve to wash off any drops as quickly as possible. 

You get the feeling that she hoped you wouldn’t notice, but you did. The smile on her face dimmed the slightest it could before she could fix it. “It was… great! Stuff I’ll remember for the rest of my life, for sure.” 

Like some form of cosmic karma, she spots your involuntary grin in the mirror. “Good. That’s good.”

The color drains from her hair bit by bit as you apply the bleach carefully. You’re not sure how quickly you have to finish, but Nana seems not to mind. You gently stroke and rub the product through her hair, taking special care not to come into contact with her scalp too often, all the while she turns her head from side to side to admire the look she’s going to have soon. 

“You know…” she says suddenly, avoiding your eyes in the mirror, “this was really fun. I’m so happy I got to do all that stuff on my list.” Her smile changes: what was once a cheerful and optimistic smile just a few moments ago is now a wizened and melancholic one. “I mean it. Thank you for helping me.” 

She makes eye contact with you again in the mirror, and she flashes that smile to you once more. Her hair grows lighter with each passing second, and as her back relaxes and straightens, it seems that the weight of the world leaves her shoulders as well. She breathes more easily now, and despite the fumes the box says you should do your best not to inhale, you breathe easier too.

~-~-~-~ 

You’re sat back again on her sofa, and Nana tries her best not to mess with her hair that’s still soaking. She looks kind of silly, what with her old towel around her shoulders faded to near oblivion, her hair in sections making her look like a half-done scarecrow, her hands going up halfway to her head only to be forced back down by the other. 

And yet, you admire another shade of Nayeon. This time, it’s a girl who’s scared of the future, of changes she might regret later on. It’s something deep in her character, even central maybe, to be afraid of things she can’t take back. Even then, she takes her leaps and bounds to try and outrun her past, and finally, you see the razor edge that keeps everything in balance: Nayeon’s fear which dictates her present, and Nana’s strength which leads her to her future. 

“Hey,” you say abruptly, surprising even yourself, “you good?” 

“I think so. My head’s itchy. Is that supposed to happen? Should we wash it off?”

“No, jackass, it’ll look even worse if you quit halfway.” 

Your words set in and she realizes you’re right. Worry seeps into her face and you notice tears start to well up in her eyes.

“Look, this might not be comfy right now, but I promise it’ll be worth it later on.”

“Really? You promise it’ll look good?” She looks over to you with pleading, shiny eyes, and it almost hurts to tell her no.

“I said I promise it’ll be worth it. Not that it’ll look good.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

You chuckle at the sudden rise in her voice. After all this time, she’s still Nayeon, still Nana. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“It means… if you stick with it, there’s no way you’ll regret what we just did.”

7. You know…

The end of your senior year of college rolls around, and the graduation ceremony is still fresh in everyone’s minds. Photos of friends together and square caps thrown into the air decorate your social media feeds for a good few days, and you can’t deny the whole thing was something you wouldn’t forget for the rest of your life.

And finally, Nana’s bucket list has been finished. To think that all of it was done in the span of a college year is quite impressive to say the least, as before you started she was lost in her own goals and left sitting for a good three years. Now, looking at your diploma, it was not only a sign of your successful studies at college, for you it was also the sign of helping your dear friend get to where she wanted to be. 

Speaking of the devil, now sending you a message

On the way, you see various people from her dorm building heaving away bags and suitcases, undoubtedly taking advantage of the nice weather to move out. You see people hugging each other, taking selfies, exchanging numbers, and all the while you think of each of them with their own stories to tell when they get home, but none so interesting as the one you and Nana built together. 

The walk up the stairs was more of the same, people saying goodbye, and you can’t help but feel a bit of nostalgia. It was by no means a short year, but for everything you did, the feeling of wanting just a bit more time never seems to leave you. You recall the first time you saw her, that quiet girl in the front of the auditorium with four seats of clearance around her, and how you slowly watched her grow into the fine and confident woman she is now. Part of you is unbelievably proud of what she’s achieved, but another part of you knows it’s all her doing and you were only along for the ride. 

You reach Nana’s room just as her roommate was leaving, and you exchange pleasantries with her before she goes off. “Hey, just so you know, Nayeon’s a really nice girl,” she says in whispers to you, “I’m glad she found you before she left.” She pats you on the back before going off to the stairs herself. Something deep inside you glows in agreement, and you think to yourself how lucky you were to be able to meet and spend time with a person like her.

“Hey, come in!” Nana pushes you into her now half-empty room. “Yuri just left, so we have the place all to ourselves!” You take a seat on her easy chair while she plops herself down onto her bed. The half that still has stuff in it is simple and unassuming, and the realization dawns on you that this is the first time you’ve been in Nana’s room. Despite this, the space is warm and cozy, like it was filled with a good sort of energy for a long time. 

“Cheers” you both say at the same time, each with a can of beer that you both drink fairly quickly. You recall the first time of her drinking with you, how easily she felt her stomach hurting but this time she quickly shrugs off the bitter taste.

“You know,” Nana says, her eyes shining and her smile flashing itself directly at you, “I am really happy that you helped me with the bucket list, I couldn't do it without you.”

You simply laugh casually and say “Come on Nana, all you needed was confidence.”

“And who do you think gave me that confidence? I really mean it…thank you,” she says, and you can't help but smile at her back.

“Let me get some snacks, okay? Don’t move a muscle.” As she stands and heads toward the kitchen, you go to check up your phone to see what the time is. However, just as you are about to go into your Instagram, you notice something on the table: a little black notebook that’s only all too familiar. 

When you think about it, She has never shown you the actual list besides that one time when you two first talked. “A peek won't hurt right?” you say, the alcohol definitely makes the choice for you. Your sober self would never invade someone's privacy, especially not some as close as Nana’s, but regardless, you open it and…

You flip through the pages, and the notebook reveals so much more. The few pages you’ve been shown were just decorated pages, and each mission was a chapter, filled with dozens of writings, pictures, scribbles, each for its own topic. You find yourself smiling, muttering quietly to yourself: “You really worked hard on it… didn't you?” 

Your attention is snatched to Nana across the room, looking at you with cheeks fully red. You can't help but curse quietly, and you try to come up with something of an apology. However before you can finish your first word she says…

“Hey, come on, put that down!” Nana rushes toward you, nearly tossing the snacks off to some random part of the room, and snatches away the little black notebook from your hands. She hugs it close to her chest as she turns away, and she looks over her shoulder to peek if you might still be thinking about snatching the notebook back.

Instead, you raise your hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. Sorry. But what's there to hide? Aren't we done?” You take another sip of your drink before picking up one of the snacks. You open the bag of chips and place it on the table for the both of you. 

“Well… I had one other thing. I gave up on it a long time ago, just never ripped out the page.” Nana turns back toward you and fiddles with a leaf of the notebook. Her steps are careful when she gets nearer to you, as if cautious to scare you away. 

“What?!” You bolt to your feet in surprise, your drunkenness taking a backseat at the sudden exposition. “Shit, we gotta go now! What is it?”

“Calm down,” Nana mutters, her feet rubbing against the carpet, “it isn't something we can do anywhere else anyway. Or, I mean, it’s done? I don’t know…”

Your nerves are still flaring, but you get the feeling that whatever it is, there's nowhere else but where you are now that Nana could do the last bucket list thing. Your gaze steadies on her, and she looks like she wouldn't budge for the world. Her eyes never leave the floor, her hands stay guarded on the notebook, and for some reason, she's also able to keep you just where you are. 

“So… what is it, then?” 

“Promise me you won't get mad?”

“... Promise.”

Once she hears you say it, her eyes shut tight. As if gathering courage, she takes a deep breath before taking deliberate steps to where you're standing. You never see it coming, but the next thing you know, Nana's soft lips are on yours, her delicate fingers keep you steady in place, and her vanilla scent fills your nose and overwhelms your senses that you can't think of anything at all but her.

It takes only half a second, but you melt into the kiss yourself. Your eyes flutter closed and start to forget the world around you in favor of the girl who stayed by your side. The space between the two of you grows smaller, your hands make their way to her waist, and you let your selfishness take over and keep her for yourself as well. 

The kiss breaks just as you hold her, and both your eyes shoot open to find hers just as wide as yours. 

“I-I, umm… I’m sorry, it was too sudden, and uhh…” It wasn't too hard to see how much she was stuttering, and if you weren't so surprised yourself you would've also joined her like the blushing mess she is right now.

The alcohol was starting to hit you again, and your better judgment slowly left you as you took her lips once more. You have no time to be surprised at how willing she is, and you resolve to just enjoy the kiss with her. You lead her to the edge of the bed and sit her down; and the first chance she gets, she lies back onto the mattress and pulls you with her. 

“If you really wanna know…” She flips to the last page of the notebook and shows you. It’s a simple picture, just two stick figures in a heart, holding hands. You don’t recognize the poster, but the quote is unmistakable: “You should be kissed, and often, by someone who knows how.”

“I’m glad we got to spend all this time together, and I know I keep thanking you, but I really am so happy…” Nana pulls you back in, and with your own sweet defiance, you trace kisses across her cheek and onto her neck. The whimpers that escape her are adorable, but at the same time they also confirm thoughts you’ve only ever tried to suppress: she likes you too. 

You go lower and lower, tracing kisses from her neck to nibbling her collarbone, and you settle right before you reach her chest. Her breath hitches when she figures out what you want to do, but ultimately her fingers rake comfortingly through your hair.

“So tonight… let me show you… let me thank you… properly.” Her eyes may look pure when she says those words, but with how you are inches away from her lips, with how you have been kissing her now, it's anything but.

She slowly pulls off her jacket, her eyes never leaving you. The fabric slides off of her arms, revealing the smooth skin of her slender arms. The next to go is her tank top; her fingers grip the hem lightly, tugging slowly upwards, showing you her toned tummy and milky skin. The hem rises higher and higher, until she stops right under her chest. 

“Are you sure?” Your question is breathless, not in the slightest bit annoyed, but your tone full of concern reaches her. “You don’t have to do this for me.”

“I know,” she says, the sound of her voice betraying a dry throat, “I love you.” She pulls the rest of her top off, and her boobs bounce freely in front of you. Nana takes your hands and places them on each, and asks you playfully, “Come on, you think I never caught you staring?”

She pulls you back in for a kiss, a proper one this time, the kind that quenches your thirst for her. She tries her best to wrap her tongue around yours, all the while you take your fill of her soft tits. Pinch and tweak her nipples, feel them stiffen as her tiny whimpers grow into careless moans. You never let up, delivering constant pleasure to her chest, and your surprise when you feel her palming your growing bulge is quickly replaced with anticipation. 

Her hand slips under your waistband and her moan fills your mouth when she feels how hot and hard your cock is for her. She wraps her fingers around your shaft and gives long, slow strokes, nothing that would make you cum on the spot, but just about enough to make you leak precum onto her palm. She relishes the feeling of your arousal on her skin, and as she picks up her pace, seemingly trying to entice you to do more, you’re left with no choice but to give her exactly what she wants. 

You work on unzipping your jeans and taking them off, and with Nana’s help, it feels like the second easiest job in the world. They fall to your ankles and you kick them away, and all of a sudden your cock rests on the skin of her luscious thigh. The heat and the precum that leaks onto her flesh surprises her, but her senses come back to her and she asks for a time out. 

“Gimme a sec, I have to breathe,” she gasps unsteadily. You get off her, wondering what you might have done wrong. Her breathing is ragged and she seems to not be able to focus on much else, but a reassuring look in her eyes lets you know she’s alright. 

“I just– I needed to see it.” Her gaze falls on your cock, and once she reaches and wraps her fingers around your shaft again, it throbs in her hand. A groan of pleasure escapes you, and she figures out that she’s doing something right. Her pumps start slow, gradually building up speed, all the while she brings her face closer and closer, and you don’t even notice it, but finally her lips meet the tip of your dick. Nana rubs your precum all over her lips like lipstick, and she takes your head in her mouth. 

Small groans come from your mouth feeling her soft lips, you enjoy much more than you thought, especially knowing how inexperienced you thought she was. Your hands meanwhile grab a part of hair, pulling it lightly, causing Nana to moan into your cock.

“Don't get mad if I do this wrong–” she says, her eyes fraught with worry. Despite this, she makes careful moves to give you the best possible experience. She seals her lips around your head, and she gives slow but deep sucks as she tries her hardest. 

“You’re– nngh– doing great,” you moan, the pleasure overtaking you. The eye contact you two share is enchanting; she’s undoubtedly a very pretty girl, and despite the amateur blowjob, she more than makes up for it with her enthusiasm. Her head bobs slightly, trying to take more of your length in, but her worry of choking keeps her from giving any more. 

On the other hand, she has no idea of the effect she has on you, and the sight of the gorgeous woman’s plump lips on your cock coupled with her eager attempts at making you feel good nearly sends you over the edge early. In an effort to stave off your orgasm for even just a little while longer, you regrettably pull her off of you. 

“What– what’s wrong? Wasn’t it good?” Again her words are coated with worry of disappointing you, but the way you look tenderly to her reassures her. 

“You are perfect, Nana,” you whisper into her ear. You lay her back onto the bed gently, and you let show your eagerness to please her too. You venture down until you’re level with her crotch, and you work slowly to peel off her thin shorts. As they leave her legs, you’re presented with a pastel blue pair of panties, though you can’t help but notice the growing wet spot right in the center and the scent of her arousal seeping through. It must be uncomfy, you think, and you strip it off of her as well. 

The garment leaves her and you look to Nana for approval: her finger between her teeth and her face red as a tomato, she looks at you with a loving gaze. Only then do you realize that Nana is now fully naked, everything bare for you and you alone, and the way her thighs rub together needily sends the message you’ve been dying to get. 

Part her legs, meeting little resistance as you do. Travel up from her knees to her thighs, planting kisses and light nibbles on the soft flesh of her legs. Hearing how she whimpers beneath your lips: “That feels really good… I want more…” 

Your lips finally meet her pussy, and the initial contact draws out a sultry moan from her. Each swipe of your tongue on her cunt causes more and more of her love juices to leak out, sending waves of ecstasy up her spine. She tries locking your head in place as she runs her fingers through your hair, all the while she grinds her crotch on your face as she chases her pleasure. 

“Yes, yes, yes! Fuck, you feel so good! I love you~!” Nana humps your face more and more roughly, and you take it as a sign that she’s close. Good thing as well, as you’re running out of air, but on the other hand you feel as though this wouldn't be the worst way to go. You run your tongue over her soaked pussy, taking slow, deep licks. 

She’s inching closer to her orgasm, her hips are bucking onto your mouth, your tongue meets her clit, she squeezes your head between her thighs, your lips seal around her swollen nub, she grabs your hair and pulls hard, and with a scream ripping through her throat, Nana squirts her love juices straight into your waiting mouth as you drink her essence up. Her scream turns into a drawn-out moan as she continues to grind on your face, making sure to pleasure herself enough to give you everything you’ve been working so hard for, and you lap every single drop of it up like it was the sweetest thing you’ve ever tasted. 

She releases her grip on your hair and head, and as she relaxes onto the bed her arms fall to the sides and her legs spread open. She lazily brings a hand to her pussy and rubs it, showing you just how good you made her feel, and she smiles up at you. 

“That was fucking amazing.” It couldn’t have sounded any sweeter, and the fact that it came from Nana, lying on her bed wearing nothing but a smile that you gave her, fills you with a sort of pride that you doubt you’d ever get again anywhere else in your life. But as she starts to get up, and she places her lips on yours, you feel another weight lifted off your chest. It’s another shade of her, one that shows you how she is when she’s content. It’s her way of telling you that among the hundreds of firsts she’s had in her life, she’s grateful that you were this one too. And as you kiss back, your hands finding their way to her hips, you connect with her again on a level that you never put into words before. “I love you too, Nana.”

Upon hearing, her kiss deepens and her tongue works harder to play with yours. She leans on you more, until finally you let yourself fall backwards, and Nana is right there, straddling you, with an innocent yet horny look in her eyes again.

“Your turn. Relax, okay?” She caresses your cheek, and suddenly you’re made conscious of how bad you’re probably blushing right now. Despite this, her smile never leaves her face as she continues to reassure you. She giggles at whatever expression it is that you’re showing her, and she gets to work. 

Nana reaches to her bedside table and opens a drawer, and from it she produces a peculiar box. “Remember when I ‘stole’ that candy bar?” She tears off the sticker on the edge of the box to open it, pulls out a little plastic square pouch, and tears it open with her teeth. “I… bought… the candy bar. This was what I stole.” She tugs on the contents of the pouch, and reveals a condom. 

“What the–” you start, but you soon stop in favor of moans caused by Nana’s handjob. “Don’t ever belittle me like that again, okay?” Her smile is again just as sweet and innocent as the first time you saw it, but now is completely different. It never leaves her face as she pulls the rubber over your cock, but not before giving it a few more cursory licks.

“Ready?” she asks, and you nod furiously. Finally, she aims the tip of your cock at her entrance and slowly sinks down onto you. “Oh, fuck, it’s so big,” she gasps. She takes her time taking in your length, feeling every vein against her pussy walls as you enter her tight pussy. She sucks air in through her teeth, her eyes shut tight, her fingernails leaving imprints on your chest as more and more of you slides into her unbelievably tight cunt. As she does, you feel her wet velvet walls rub your cock inside her, her slick spreading all over you and coating you with a warm you can’t describe. After what seemed like an eternity of bliss, she finally hilts, having taken everything inside her, and she sits on your crotch without moving, still trying to get used to the feeling of her pussy being so full. 

“You good?” you ask, genuinely concerned if she’s okay or not. Place a hand on her waist, pat to comfort her. Her eyes open slowly, almost releasing a tear, and panic rises in your chest. 

“Shit, shit, I’m sorry, do you need to get off? I–” you start, but she shuts you up with another kiss. It’s slow and gentle as it starts, just simple pecks, as she reassures you once again that she’s alright. Once she pulls away, she flashes you another smile, and you swear she gets more and more beautiful with each and every one. 

“I’m okay. Are you okay?” She traces circles on your cheek and neck, and all you could do is nod. She comes back in for another kiss, and this time it’s much deeper. She opens her mouth to moan, and you jump at the opportunity to swipe at her tongue too. She loves it, and once she’s comfy enough, she starts to hump against you as well.

“It’s really really good. Do you feel good?” Her question snaps you out of your daze, but you only nod as you fight off cumming too early. Not long after that, you note she’s had her fill as she pulls away from you. Her posture straightens and she sits on you properly again, this time determined to return the favor and blow your mind. She takes in a deep breath, braces herself, and lifts herself up carefully. Your breath hitches, watching her naked figure on top of you, and you admire the way her sweat collects in drops before they slide down between her breasts. She notices you staring again, and she brings your hands up to her chest, moaning at the first moment of contact. Your instincts overtake you; you push yourself off the bed to her boobs and start to suck. Your lips seal around her nipples and she runs her fingers through your hair as she tries to push you deeper into her delicious breast. 

“Shit, don’t stop,” Nana pleads, and you continue kneading the flesh of her boobs more, sucking when and where you can. At that moment, she forces herself back down onto your dick, taking in everything again all at once. Her walls part suddenly, and once she settles her warm pussy walls squeeze your cock as tight as she can. She begins bouncing, her moans never stopping, and you find a rhythm: each time Nana brings herself down, you thrust up to meet her halfway. The first time you do, you reach a depth to her that neither of you thought was possible, and the heat from her sex with her slick drive the pair of you insane with pleasure. 

She keeps bouncing on your cock as her lewd moans gradually grow louder and louder with each of your thrusts into her needy core. Her eyes roll to the back of her head, her pussy tightens again, and just as you deliver a perfectly-timed bite to her nipple, another scream rakes out of her throat as her second orgasm overtakes her. Her pussy convulses as her hips buck again and again on your cock, her thighs and tits jiggle seductively, and her tightness reaches new heights as if she wants to keep your cock inside her forever. Despite this, you never stop thrusting her, never stop making love to her, and you cover her chest in kisses while you lick up all her sweat. 

You never give her a chance to catch her breath, and soon enough, an unknowable number of seconds or minutes past, you feel your own orgasm coming. You take one last look at her godly figure and divine visuals, and you finally succumb.

Hold her close, hold her tight. She’s made it clear that she doesn’t want you getting away, so you only return the desire. Keep thrusting into her, forget about how she’s losing her mind. She’s gone, lost in her own pleasure, and there’s no point in bringing her back yourself. Instead, follow her. Send yourself over the edge and join her in her ecstasy.

You momentarily lose your flow of consciousness as flashes of white fill your eyes, but you’re snapped back to reality with Nana pulling at your hair. Only then do you realize; you’re actually cumming inside her. With each spurt, you thrust into her as your cock twitches against her slick walls. The cumulative heat from your cum sends just the right signals to Nana’s body, and it sends back the equivalent of screams of desperation at the illusion of breeding. Your pumps are harsh and careless – thank the stars you’re wearing a condom – but Nana is too far lost to care past the unholy pleasure you deliver to her. 

“Fuck, fuck! Aaaahhh!!!!” You feel her tighter, as if clamping down on your cock, her cunt pulsating and the connection between the two of you growing wetter, slicker. Despite this, you never let up, hell-bent on giving her everything you have. One spurt turns into two, then four, then six. It didn’t matter, none of it did. It could have been the end of the world and you wouldn’t have minded. All that was important was the girl sitting on your lap, losing her mind.

As both of your orgasms die down, the pair of you fall to the mattress. You stare at each other, wide-eyed and out of breath, and all you can do is smile and giggle at each other. As each of you catch your breath, the world quiets down, and all that’s left in existence is just you and Nana. 

“Wow,” she sighs, “nice.” Her smile grows wide again, and her hand once more finds your cheek to caress.

“Yeah, nice.” You laugh back at her, the adrenaline fading quickly. “Does that check the thing off your list?”

“Oh, yeah!” Nana jolts up and off the bed, or at least attempts to. Instead, she falls back next to you, and only then do you realize the fatigue rendering your bodies useless. 

“So… we good?” There’s nowhere else to look but right to her. Nana’s beautiful, round, just a bit teary eyes gaze back at you with adoration and love, something you never thought you’d have for yourself in this magnitude. And yet, here you are, and here she is, as if nothing else mattered. 

“Shit. That was crazy. Anyway, yeah. Thanks.” With her last ounce of strength, she comes in for one more kiss. She collapses in your arms, cuddled right up to your chest, and you can imagine she could hear how loud your heart was thumping, just like hers. 

Catch her snoring an adorable snore, wrap her in an embrace that would protect her from the worst the world could throw at her. A small thought in your head says you want to keep her safe forever like this, but you know better: she’s a strong woman who can take care of herself. Think back to how lucky you are, and how you walked this journey with her. Recall how she was just a fearful nobody when you first met, remember how you watched her grow into the amazing person she is now. 

Your eyelids grow heavy, and you realize your waking seconds left are numbered. Right before you drift off to sleep yourself, you hear her, in the tiniest voice ever, mumbling her confession: “Stay with me.”

“Go to sleep, Nana.” You smile and turn your head toward hers, arms wrapped around her waist. 

“Not without a promise.” Her own eyes are half-lidded, and you can tell she’s fighting back her drowsiness as hard as she can. She tries blinking the sleep away, but it only works marginally.

You could say anything to her at all right now, anything in the world, but there’s really only two things that need to be put into words. Your mind rushes at a snail’s pace, and you reach for faraway ideas when the right one is just in front of you. In your mind only one question appears: “So is this like…a one time thing?” 

In response Nana just leans in and kisses your cheek, then giggles. “Would me saying ‘I love you’ outside of sex prove it?” she asks playfully, her tone betraying her desire for rest.

“Touché.” One hand goes to her soft blonde hair, brushing it to the side. “But in my defence, suddenly kissing me and then getting me naked was not the first thing I expected when you said there was ‘one last thing’ in your bucket list,” you state matter-of-factly.

You share a bout of tired laughter for a moment, and then you both look at each other with pure eyes, as if you two compete to see who can make the other blush first. Decidedly, Nana loses while she confesses. “I used to think that college was supposed to be all rose-colored, that it was to be the peak of my life. But spending it with you, I learned that it doesn’t have to be all grand milestones to live through.” The air in the room swirls differently, replacing stale breaths with new ones from the open window. 

“That time you cheered me on during the open mic, how you looked at me… It made me realise that after everything’s said and done, I wanted peace. And I can feel peace with you, without all the guilt of past mistakes, nor ghosts of regret that would’ve haunted me for the rest of my life,” she says, now leaning toward your ear muttering, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whisper back, smiling from ear to ear. Eventually you both released the hug. Look around her room for your clothes, which was surprisingly hard for how your sex wasn't too feral, and in turns take showers to clean yourselves up.

As you get out of the shower, fully cleaned and with some good-enough-for-sleep clothes, you find Nana on her bed fully knocked out. You simply laugh and join her, and her instinct leads her to wrap her arms around your waist while her head leans into your chest.

“Goodnight, Nana,” you whisper with finality, as if ending the night on a perfect note. Peck her forehead and close your own eyes, and fall into slumber just as deep as hers.

Bucket List Completed

“Argh, I’m so excited!” She grips you by your collar and shakes you as she screams, jolting away any sleep you wished to get. 

Two months have come and gone, and while you know it hasn’t been long, things have changed so much. Despite you trying to get just a bit more sleep in the backseat of the taxi, Nana right next to you can’t stop bouncing in hers as the sights outside the window pass her by.

“Okay, okay. Just get all this energy out before we get on the plane, please?”

She returns her attention to the window just as the taxi slows to a halt. Your new girlfriend practically throws open the door and leaps out, heading straight for the trunk to retrieve your luggage. 

“Hurry up! We might miss our flight!” She struggles lifting her comically large suitcase before you hear it hits the concrete pavement followed by its handle extending with its clack-clack-clack. 

“Hawaii isn’t going anywhere, Nana, please,” you mutter as you lazily exit the cab. You hand the driver your fare, and he reaches out to accept. As he does, he gives you a knowing smirk and tips his hat to you, as if saying “good luck.”

Turning around, you find Nana with all of your luggage too, eagerly awaiting your arm for her to cling to before you make your way inside. The hustle and bustle of Incheon International Airport fills her with a deep sense of excitement, and honestly, who could blame her? Your girlfriend is in the midst of all these other people — travelers, tourists, adventurers — and she fits right in. It’s the most natural thing for her now, to find herself in new situations that broaden her horizons and make her feel alive. 

She yanks you to her side in line for the desk, holding her brand-new polaroid camera at a high angle. “Cheese!” she screams, not far enough from your ear, but with how happy she is, you can’t help but smile her smile too. “Our first overseas trip! This is the first time I’m leaving Seoul, let alone Korea!” 

“Okay, Nana, calm down,” you chuckle, but you know she won’t. Divert her attention instead, put her energy to good use. “Do you have your passport? Carry on? Pink notebook?”

Though you both are sure she hasn’t missed anything, Nana rummages through her bag again anyway. “Check, check, and check! How could I forget?” She takes each item to show to you, and she flips through the pink notebook once it’s in her hand.

One thing about Nana, she never lets the moment escape her anymore. Once she sets out to do something, she’ll do everything in her power to accomplish that goal. This is no different, and you love her so much for it.

After looking through the notebook, she claps it shut. She flashes you the drawing of a gray bucket on its front cover before it disappears back into her carry on, and you both are reminded that a part of who you are as a couple is just that: a notebook that predicts the future by rooting itself in the present. Sadly, a weeklong trip won’t be enough for everything on her list this time, but who’s to say you’re not coming back eventually? 

And at the end of the trip, you have it ready, the best gift you could give her: a little green notebook, every left-side page filled with things you want to do, and the corresponding right side page blank, all for her. And on the very last leaf, where the cardboard of the back cover accompanies it, is a drawing of a ring, with the words: “I’ll be taking my time, spending my life, falling deeper in love with you.”

“Come on, hurry!” She yanks again, snapping you out of your wistful thoughts. “We’re gonna miss the plane!” Nana pulls you to the gate just as the intercom announces your flight has begun boarding. “Alright, alright! Easy,” you chuckle again, and you can’t believe this is the same girl behind the gym crying her eyes out alone just last year. Funny how people change like that, but at the same time, it’s impossible to think that Nana would ever stay the same.

================================================

Thank you all for watching, it has been a long time working on it and we are really happy it is finally out, hope yall had a good read with this one,

i will see you all next time leafies~

#kpop fanfic #kpop #kpop fluff #kpop smut #nana wooah #nana smut #wooah #wooah smut

[theyluvkarolina]

𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐁𝐘𝐄, 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓

· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑ ` ` So, I don't blame you, if you want to bury me in your memory, I'm not the girl I ought to be ` ` ⊹ ‧₊˚

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃?: Yes! (Part of 1K Event!)

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ୨୧ Loving Lando is like how the Earth circles the sun. In absolute awe and admiration. But the Earth is slowly destroying itself in the presence of this star. The rays of this sun are burning away at this Earth’s ozone layer, maybe even going as far into this Earth’s core.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ୨୧ Lando Norris x Fem!Driver!Reader

𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌 ୨୧ Amna Al Qubaisi

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ୨୧ fighting, misogyny (not by the grid or lando), reader is kinda… bitchy?? (based off of high adrenaline, and insecurities that overtake her mind.)

𝐀/𝐍 ୨୧ God. Whenever I hear this song and think about Lando, all i think about is him and Luisiha. :( Again, I made this not in a SMAU format i’m used to. I decided to make the reader replace Daniel for the fic (I STILL LOVE HIM I PROMISE 😭😭)I hope you still like it! Tbh, I feel like I didn't do this request justice. If I have a chance some point in time, I might rewrite it.

𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐏𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ୨୧ 1.3K words!

1K EVENT MASTERLIST

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f1

♡ liked by mclaren, maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, and others

f1 Lando wins it in Miami, winning his first race! Congratulations! 👏

tagged ; landonorris

3,219 comments

username1 LANNNDOOOO

username2 lando has finally landed 🥹

username3 HE FINALLY DID IT!!

carlosainz55 congratulations cabrón! Welcome to the winners side 😉

→ landonorris glad to finally be part of the club 👊

maxverstappen1 lando nowins no more 👏

→ landonorris haha funny 😒

georgerussel63 congrats mate!!

username5 has anyone noticed that y/n hasen’t liked or commented? :(

username6 ik!! usually she is always the first or second person to do both whenever he gets podium…

username7 no because did anyone see how y/n was staring at Lando with his trophy??

→ username8 I THOUGHT I WAS THE ONLY ONE. → username9 she looked at him like he was ripping her heart out 🙁 → username10 I mean, y/n has been in f1 for what, 2 more years than him and still no win. I know it's just eating her up inside. → username11 I hope she gets her win soon and shuts up the misogynists. → username12 it sucks that the team did a absolute shit strategy when the safety car stopped her and made lando gain her stop.. but I’m still happy for him!!

y/n_l/n

♡ liked by visacashapprb, yukitsunoda, sophiafloersch and others

y/n_l/n Miami ? Done ✅

tagged ; visacashapprb

2,350 comments

username13 she didn’t even post her podium photo :(

username14 if i were her i wouldn’t either.

username15 can she idk, be happy for lando?

→ username16 no way you are suggesting this girl be happy after she lost her chance to overtake lando because of the safety car, taking away what may be the second woman to win a f1 race next to Desiré Wilson, after years of misogyny, and men telling her she doesn’t have a place in motorport along with other women. → username17 god how i love you @ username16. SOMONE ACTUALLY USES THEIR BRAIN

visacashapprb wonderful work as per usual!

→ username18 for someone who has been in f1 for 8 years? hell no. → username19 someone is jelly → username20 they aren’t jealous they are just stating a fact 😂 → username21 the fact that they are saying how she should be winning stuff after 8 years? → username22 obviously. since she came she hasn’t won anything → username23 lance stroll, kevin magnussen, and nico hulkenburg are calling buddy and they are saying your misogyny is showing. 💀 → username24 LMAOOAOA YOU GO @ username23

Twitter

In Person

Saying that the end of the race was a disappointment was an understatement. For the past eight years, it only felt like the world was out to get you.

The constant criticism, misogyny, the occasional car failures, Lance Stroll's grotesque driving skills, and now, Lando winning his first Grand Prix but with the cost of you losing your position due to a shitty strategy mistake. It's frustrating, to say the least.

Being in love with Lando has its ups and downs. And as of right now? A hard low. As his partner, you want to kiss him all over his sunkissed face, going over each birthmark with tenderness. Congratulate him. Tell him how proud you are of him for finally achieving what he has been aiming for years. Ruffle those chestnut curls that you love dearly as you both stand on the podium, covered in sticky champagne as the fizzy liquid cascades over you, creating a tingling sensation on your skin you both embrace, the rainbows of confetti dancing in the air to the ground, trophy in his hands.

Yet, as a driver, you despise him. That haunting smile that glances over now and then, that sterling silver trophy dazzling in the light, blinding you as if it were the shining teeth of someone laughingly mocking you. God, how you hated it.

After closing the door to the driver's room, you swiftly remove the carbon fiber helmet, peeling off the balaclava that clings to my face, leaving my hair matted against my skin. With a surge of frustration, you glance angrily at the helmet before flinging the helmet to the ground, the sound reverberating through the room. Your breathing quivers as you gaze at the floor before ultimately slumping against the wall adjacent to the door, back against it. Running a hand through your damp hair, you rub my temple, feeling the weight of the day's events.

How did you get to this point? 

“Where in the world have you been, you muppet? You just up and left after the national anthems.” Lando's voice broke you out of your trance as he stood by the door, remembering you didn't lock the door. "I didn't even get to spray the champagne on you like usual." He adds with a frown.

"Not now, Lando." You stated looking down at your hands as you picked the skin around your nails to cope. His face still held a frown, yet he raised a brow at your tone.

"Not now?" He repeats, almost confused by your comment. "What's wrong? Talk to me."

"I said not now, Lando," You repeat, my voice growing more insistent. "I just need some space right now."

Lando's expression softens as he takes a step closer, concern evident in his eyes. "Hey, come on. You can talk to me. I know today didn't go as planned, but we can work through this together." 

My frustration boils over, and I finally look up to meet his gaze. "You don't get it, do you? This could have been my chance. My chance to finally prove that I belong here. Actually- no, not me, but every woman. That we won't be not some- some girls here for some representation to make F1 seem better but to show that we belong here! That we are as good as men! And that shitty strategy screwed me over, and now it seems like I am a shit driver..." You snap in exasperation.

“I never tried to say that I understand.” Lando glared. His expression hardens, and he takes a step back, hurt evident in his eyes. "You know that's not true. You're an incredibly talented driver, and one bad race doesn't define you."

You scoff, feeling the weight of his words but unable to fully accept them. "Easy for you to say. This ‘one bad race’ has been multiple races. You've had your moment of glory today. You got the lavish celebration you’ve been wanting.“

You scoff, feeling the weight of his words but unable to fully accept them. "Easy for you to say. This ‘one bad race’ has been multiple races. You've had your moment of glory today. You got the lavish celebration you’ve been wanting.“

Lando shakes his head, his frustration creeping into his voice. "This isn't about me. It's about us! I want you to succeed just as much as I want to succeed. We’re a team, even if we are on other racing teams. But pushing me away and shutting me out won't solve anything. What’s with all this?“

“Don’t you get it, Lando?! You’re perfect now! You have fans who love you, you have a secure seat, and you have a win now Lando! All you need is a championship! You don’t have people telling you that you don’t belong here because you have talent. You have people who support you even when your team makes a stupid mistake and they still defend you! The second I do something wrong, even when it's team orders, I'm belittled and told to go back to do my "role" as a housewife! God, I can't even get time to be with my boyfriend or friends before getting screamed at by middle-aged men that I'm a 'grid fucker' and that I had sex to get to where I am!"

Lando’s face falls at your words, a mix of offense and hurt flashing in his eyes. “You think I don’t understand pressure? I get it, alright? I get that it’s different for you, and it’s unfair. But pushing everyone away, pushing me away, isn’t the answer.”

You stand up, your body tense with the weight of your frustration and sadness. “I’m not pushing you away, Lando. I’m trying to cope with the fact that no matter what I do, it’s never enough. And seeing you succeed, seeing everyone praise you, it just… it just makes it harder.”

Lando steps closer, his voice softer now. “I want to help you, but I can’t if you won’t let me in. We’re supposed to be in this together. Isn’t that what we promised each other?”

You look at him, your heart aching at the sight of his earnest expression. “It’s not that simple. I can’t keep pretending that everything’s okay when it’s not. And I can’t stand beside you, smiling, when I feel like I’m drowning.”

He reaches out to touch your arm, but you pull away. “Please, don’t. I need to find my way through this, Lando. And I can’t do that if I’m constantly comparing myself to you.”

Lando’s eyes widen with realization. “You’re breaking up with me.”

A lump forms in your throat, tears welling up. “Don't put it like that..” I start. Lando tries to talk but I beat him to it. "I'm... not necessarily breaking up with you. It's more of a... "Goodbye"."

"That's technically still breaking up with me," Lando mutters, a tiny, barely noticeable smile cracking through onto his lips at the light attempt at a joke to ease the growing tension. I let out a tearful giggle.

Lando’s smile crumples into a frown and he takes a shaky breath. “I love you. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You aren't losing me... I love you too,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “But right now, love isn’t enough. I need to stand on my own two feet, without always feeling like I’m in your shadow.”

He looks away, blinking rapidly, trying to hide the growing tears in his greenish-blue eyes. “This isn’t how I wanted today to end. I wanted today to be happy. For us both.”

“Neither did I,” you say softly, placing a hand on his cheek, moving his head to look at you while you skim your fingers over his birthmarks. “But sometimes, things don’t go as planned.”

There’s a long, painful silence between you, filled with all the things left unsaid. Finally, Lando nods, his eyes shining with unshed tears, leaning over to press a tender kiss onto your forehead. 

“Goodbye, then,” Lando whispers. 

In response, you bend forward, placing your lips against his own, kissing him softly, both our lips brushing lightly as if savoring the moment for what may be the last time experiencing such a feeling.

“Goodbye, my British sweetheart.” You replied, voice narrowly above a whisper.

𝐀/𝐍 2 : Ending tbh is kinda cringey but oh well it felt right in the moment 😫

#☆ﾟ user ↳ theyluvkarolina ◝ #f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #f1 smau #formula one x you #lando x reader #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando #f1 fandom #f1 #f1 fic #formula one imagines #formula one scenarios #formula one imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula one #f1 angst

[thekinslayed]

Thou Shalt Not Covet

summary | Aemond is displeased to find his wife alone with his drunken brother.

pairing | aemond targaryen x wife!reader, unrequited aegon ii targaryen x reader

tags | 18+, MINORS DNI! oral sex (f), p in v sex, voyeurism, masturbation (m), angst, possessive aemond, aegon is kinda pathetic, Everyone Needs To Chill

wordcount | 5.8k

note | i owe aeg a written apology for this one, im sorry pooks </3 the idea for this came in a peach bellini-induced dream

likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated! <3

(dividers by @targaryen-dynasty)

It was nearing the hour of the bat, you had been sitting on your vanity chair, brushing your long locks when you heard the door to yours and Aemond’s marital chambers open. You perked up at the sound, turning with a smile on your face to greet your lord husband. He had been called away to the Tower of the Hand as soon as supper had ended, dealing with urgent matters of the realm while the king was nowhere to be seen. You jumped when the man standing in your room was not Aemond, but your good brother-in-law, Aegon. His cheeks were flushed, his stance wobbly, no doubt from the amount of wine he had consumed tonight. 

“Aegon!” You exclaimed. You quickly reached for your robe, covering your nightgown-clad figure to save yourself some modesty. “What in the Seven Hells are you doing here?”

The inebriated king jumped at the sight of you and the sound of his name. “Gods be good,” he said while steadying himself. He didn’t feel great, and the sight of you in your nightgown did nothing to ease his disorientation. He leaned a hand against the doorframe, rubbing a hand across his warm face, greeting you, “Sister.”

“Is something wrong, my king?” You asked, concerned with the faraway look in his eyes. You kept your distance still, wary of his grace’s well-known habits when deep in his cups. “If you are looking for Aemond, I am afraid he is still caught up in that meeting with your grandsire.”

“I just needed to get out, staying in these walls has given my mind no reprieve,” Aegon said with what you felt was an honest answer. He let out a heavy sigh, the corner of his lips dipping into a small frown. 

“I didn’t mean to startle you. I wanted to ask Aemond about his opinion on something important.” Aegon could scarcely remember the steps he had taken that lead him to your chambers, the small details of what he needed to say held in the slippery grip of his drunken stupor. The sting from his mother's hand on his cheek and the stabbing tone of her voice led him away from his seat in the council table, where he was needed, and into the tunnels that lead to the familiar path of his refuge. With a cup of ale in his hand and the boisterous ruckus of the alehouse, the king had forged himself a plan.

A ship to depart from the Bay by dawn. Essos. A crown for Aemond.

You were aware of Aegon being at the receiving end of his mother’s ire once more, no doubt escaping to his cups after their fight that had echoed through the halls of the Keep. You approached his leaning figure, coming to stand by the settee, patting down the cushions to invite him in. 

“Why don’t you sit? Aemond might be back in a few, and you look like the slightest poke would send your face to the mud, brother,” you offered. Though your brother-in-law was far from being as proper and honorable as your lord husband, you worried for him. Aegon wasn’t perfect, yet it would be hard to deny that he has struggled to find his place in the family. You have seen the gloom that always clouded his purple orbs, one he had tried to hide when he had sat the Iron Throne and the Conqueror’s crown was placed upon his head.

Aegon did as he was told, sinking into the seat with a heavy thud and a groan. Silence encompassed the room for a moment, the crackling of the hearth filling in the gaps between you and the king. He could feel himself sobering up fast, the fact that he was sitting with his brother’s wife, his beautiful wife, while Aemond was away had him flustered, his senses fighting through the cloudy haze of the liquor in his system.

“Your husband,” he managed, “is he really as praiseworthy as mother makes him out to be?” Aegon queried, his tone casual and light. You approached the seat across from him, pulling your robe tighter around your figure as you sat down.

“What do you think? He’s your brother. You have known what he is like much longer than I,” you responded, smiling at him softly. Your head tilted ever so slightly when you studied the elder Targaryen before you, how his plump cheeks were flushed and the skin under his eyes held perpetual lines of exhaustion. Aegon let out a low hum, twisting his lips while he stared into the fire. 

“Aemond has always been a good man. A bit of a brute, but a good man,” Aegon said, nodding, but then paused to consider his words. “I suppose I want to know…is he kind to you?”

“The most kind,” you smiled bashfully. The thoughts of your lord husband always brought about a warmth that painted your cheeks, especially the ones when his icy cold demeanor always melted around you, an occurrence he said was only possible with your power. A dreamy sigh left your lips as you longed to have him by your side at that moment, still eagerly awaiting his return from his duties. You turned to meet Aegon’s gaze, “I know it is hard to believe, but he is so good to me, your brother. I never expected our marriage to turn out this way. So… wonderful.”

A smile, slight at first, appeared on Aegon’s lips at the sight of your blissful face, whispering a small ‘good’, before returning his gaze to the hearth. Another beat of silence passed you before you spoke up once more. 

“And you and Helaena? Is everything alright?” You asked, inquiring about the state of Aegon and his sister-wife, to which Aegon only gave a small shrug.

 “You know Helaena, Inever know how she feels about anything,” he said with a rueful smile on his lips. You frowned at his words, feeling bad with how quickly his smile dropped once he finished speaking.

“Helaena, she…” you trailed off, trying to find the right words to approach the subject. 

“She is so special. She’s not like the rest of us. She is bestowed with gifts that I don’t think any of us truly understand, nor can she fully carry the weight of. She needs someone to carry that weight with her, Aegon. I know you try for her, but it all just requires time. Give her time to open up to you, brother. Don’t force it out of her,” you advised. The king’s eyes sparkled when they stared at you while you spoke, attentive and awake. The corner of his plump lips quirked up at your words, breathing out a huff.

​​“She does seem fragile, doesn’t she?” Aegon said. You watched as Aegon fiddled with his thumbs, a twinge in your heart at the sight of him. It was no secret the king and queen had an unconventional relationship, with them being brother and sister, coupled with their utterly contrasting personalities. Even with children, Aegon and Helaena had never found their rhythm with each other, and the gaps in their marriage were only intensified whenever it was held in contrast to yours and Aemond’s marriage.

“How do you put up with his moods? Aemond, I mean,” Aegon suddenly asked with a small grin, eager to change the subject. “He’s not a pleasant man when he’s in a temper, to put it mildly.”

The surprise on your face was evident as the conversation shifted back to you, a small chuckle leaving your lips at his words. 

“Oh, believe me, I have tried many ways to deal with that fiery temper of his,” you laughed along with Aegon. “I am no dragon, I find no use in fighting fire with fire, though it has taken a bit of creativity to tame that temper of his.” 

A suggestive glint in your eyes twinkled as you spoke, giggling when Aegon let out a boisterous laugh in understanding. He was visibly surprised by his good sister’s candor, one he had not something he had expected out of you.

“And I bet you’ve been successful at it too, haven’t you?” He asked, cackling when you clamped a hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter.

“Quite a bit, yes!” you agreed, a proud smile on your lips. Aegon shook his head at you, his shoulders bouncing with the laughter that bubbled from his chest.

The ease that flowed between both of you took Aegon by surprise. If only he could have more moments with you like this, perhaps he’d be a better man, a better king, even. No wonder Aemond had been so taken with you. His brooding brother had taken on a lightness to him since you had entered his life, one Aegon had first thought was quite bizarre to see in the one-eyed prince at first, but now he understood. You held the power to make any man change his ways with a single smile.

“Gods be good. That man is lucky to have you.”

Your mischievous smile turned into one of fondness at the king’s words, your longing for your lord husband growing all the more the longer he was missing from your side. 

“No luckier than I to have him as my husband,” you responded, earning a low hum from the king. Large round eyes, ones he bore from his mother, turned to look at you, glimmering against the warm glow from the fireplace. You fiddled with your fingers with uncertainty when you caught the change in his gaze, the warmth of his amethyst orbs turning to that of hidden longing. You knew this wasn’t because of love for you, it couldn’t be. You assumed the king merely craved the stability and trust that yours and Aemond’s marriage had, but you couldn’t deny the way he looked at you at times, a look almost too similar to that your husband held for you. 

It was best to probably dismiss your brother-in-law for the sake of being proper, but you just didn’t have it in you to leave him on his own for the night, not when the murky sorrow returned to his eyes, replacing the light your presence had stoked. You cleared your throat, the air in the room suddenly turning prickly. 

“I’m sorry that Aemond is taking so long. Why don’t you lay for a bit while you wait, brother? The daybed is quite comfortable,” you offered. Aegon instantly refused, not wanting to impose in your own chambers.

“No, no, I should go. I will be alright, princess,” he reassured, though the way your face held uncertainty made him falter. There was no doubt anyone who would come upon him in the halls would immediately know of his whereabouts, with his messy silver tresses, half-open doublet, and the smell of cheap mead that he exuded. Hells, when did he lose one of his rings?

You managed to convince him to settle by the daybed, promising to wake him upon Aemond’s return. It took little effort for him to fall asleep, the liquor in his system quickly submitting him to the depths of slumber. You fetched some furs to drape over his sleeping figure, soft snores resonating from the daybed. A sigh left your lips at the state of the elder Targaryen, worried about how he had been coping with the weight of the crown upon his shoulders.

 You were on your side of the bed, engrossed in your reading when your husband finally returned from his duties. You looked at Aemond in worry when he eyed his brother’s sleeping figure, his features immediately merging into one of anger and confusion after finding his wife and his brother all alone at night. 

“What the hell is he doing in our chamber?” He asked, his tone harsh. 

“Aemond..” You said softly, putting away your book before rising to approach him. Your arms came up to caress his biceps, soothing him. “He came looking for you, husband. Your brother is troubled, he waited for your return to talk to you about it,” you explained, hoping your husband would see reason and put away his anger, though his furrowed brows let you know that you shouldn’t get too hopeful. 

“I don’t care what he was looking for. King or not, he should know better than to intrude on my wife,” Aemond said, his anger still not waning while his voice rose. He was about to say more when you squeezed his biceps, a frown on your features. His own immediately softened, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips. “You shouldn’t be around him when he’s like this.” 

“I know, I know. But I was worried for him. I couldn’t just turn him away, my love,” you explained. Your hands drifted down to take hold of his fisted palms, making him unclench to let you take his hands in yours. 

“I should have made you aware of his being here. He needed someone to talk to, husband. I told him to lie down while he waited for you, but I fear the wine has gotten the best of him.” You pressed kisses to your husband’s wrists, placing his calloused palms to cup your face. Your eyes met his good one as it studied you, your feet taking a small step closer to his warmth.

“Was there anything he told you?” Aemond asked. You both looked at his sleeping figure. Aegon's snores had stopped, but he still lay peacefully asleep on your daybed. 

“He asked about our wellbeing but that was about it.” You half-lied. You thought it best to keep your conversation with the elder Targaryen between yourselves, something only you understood. 

Aemond’s apprehension of having his brother around his wife was something he did not hide, well aware of his hidden desire and admiration for his lady. The thought of you and Aegon spending time alone in your marital chambers while he was away took all of him not to strangle his sleeping brother if it weren’t for your soft presence. He could laugh at the incredulity of the circumstances, his brother having clearly wasted no time to seize the opportunity in his absence. 

The one-eyed prince stepped away from your grasp, turning away to rid himself of his day clothes. You bit your lip anxiously as he continued to spare glares at his slumbering brother. You approached him once more, standing in front of him. Your hands caressed his chest while he pulled you in by your waist, craving your touch after hours of being away. You planted a small kiss on his cheek for comfort, and another one on his lips. 

“I think it best for you to talk to him, my love. You both understand each other the best, after all,” you said softly. Your husband let out another angry sigh despite your kisses. How sweet you were, nothing but goodness in the fibers of your being. In his heart of hearts, he wished it weren’t so, that this kindness was only reserved for him, your lord husband, that way he would be saved from the many who feel smitten by your charms, his own brother for one. 

“I have no wish to even look at him,” Aemond snapped, looking away from you. He shook his head, knowing what he wanted to say, but being unable to bring himself to do it. “I just don’t like it. He looks at you, covets you.”

“Aemond..” you started, but you sighed as your husband gave you a warning look. 

“I swear to you, husband. He merely came with the intent to talk to you tonight. He was proper with me,” you promised, cupping his face in trying to reassure him, but his sharp jaw had stayed clenched. Your face dropped, frowning when he still refused to look at you.

“Darling,” you beckoned. You dipped your head to meet his gaze, a silent plea of understanding in your countenance when you stared at each other. You watched Aemond study your face with a cold glint. 

Seeing your husband still aggravated by your current situation, you knew you had to do something to calm him, lest he did something irrational to the sleeping king in your midst.

Tentatively, you pressed your lips against his in a kiss. You felt him soften ever so slightly, deepening the kiss when his hand caressed your cheek, his thumb tracing over your cheekbone. When you pulled away, you pressed your forehead against your husband’s, his hot breath fanning over your face.

“What was that for?” Aemond asked, his tone still hardened.

“Missed you,” You mumbled against his lips, kissing him once more. It was quick to escalate, with Aemond taking the lead. His tongue prodded its way into your mouth, exploring your warm cavern while a whine emitted deep from your throat at your husband’s ministrations. You felt his hands wander down to your waist to settle on her arse with a firm squeeze. Breathless you pulled away, though your husband’s firm grip bid you to stay pressed against his chest. 

“I do not want this happening again,” Aemond said quietly, a hint of anger still in his voice. His jealousy flared, a heat rising in his head that inhibited him to think clearly. It was irrational, and he hated that it was so, but he did not know how to let it go. 

“You are my wife,” Aemond practically growled. You nodded at him obediently, whispering, “I am all yours, Aemond. Always,” before surging forward to kiss him again.

“I love you,” the prince said as the kiss broke. “I am yours, and you are mine.”

You had barely reciprocated the words before Aemond was kissing you again, this time more urgent and passionate as you grew more heated. His lips traveled to your neck, sucking and kissing while his hands gripped you behind. You had almost let your eyes roll back into your skull in pleasure when you barely remembered that Aegon still lay asleep in your chambers. 

“Darling… Your brother….” You trailed off, barely getting the words out while your husband pressed his growing stiffness into your center. “He is still sleeping there, my love.”

“Let him watch if he wants. It’s what he does anyway,” Aemond said, his voice coming out with barely any volume to it with his face still pressed into your neck. He had enough for the moment, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold on forever.

“Aemond,” you warned, an unsure glint in your eye. You weren’t sure if this was some sort of sick power play your husband was doing to assert his possession over his wife to his brother, but you were still apprehensive about the whole ordeal. And yet, the heat that pooled in your center coupled with the look the silver-haired man held before you was making your rationality jump out the window. 

The longer you made your husband wait, the more you saw his temper rise again. You quickly kissed him once more, letting your lord husband do whatever he wanted for the night.  You pushed the idea of being intimate while Aegon lay asleep and risked being watched when he woke into the back of your mind, focusing on her and Aemond alone. It would be a lie to say the idea of getting caught and watched didn’t excite you at all. The idea of your prince asserting his possession over you in front of another man made you feel heated, wanted, and highly desirable. After all, Aegon was fully asleep anyway. 

Time to get creative.

Aegon was in fact, not asleep. He had woken up the moment Aemond returned, but continued to lay with his eyes closed upon hearing his brother’s anger at his intrusion. He knew if he were to awaken there was a good chance of a big fight breaking out between them, perhaps of Aemond even killing him right then and there. 

And so, he continued to pretend to be asleep while he listened to Aemond’s rage and his wife’s attempts to soothe him. Even with just listening, the elder could tell how easily the lady’s soft demeanor warmed his brother’s cold one. His heart thumped wildly against his chest, forcing his eyes to remain shut.

Amidst hushed whispers, his ears perked up in curiosity when he heard a wet smacking, then another, and then another. Hushed whispers again, and then the sound of kissing continued once more. From where the daybed was situated in their chambers, Aegon only needed to crane his neck slightly to the side and crack his eyes open just a hair to see you and Aemond in a passionate embrace. Despite the darkness brought about by the dying embers of the hearth, he could still see how his brother’s hand wandered, squeezing and caressing his wife. He saw how you kissed him with such passion, one he was unsure any lady had ever done with him. Jealousy burned within him, while heat pooled in his chest at the sight of the two lovers. He was a fool to continue to listen, to witness what was before him, but Aegon couldn’t find the strength to look away. What the king wouldn’t give for her to be doing that to him, to hold her in his arms. He was sickened with desire.

The younger prince led you to the bed, where he bunched up your nightgown to your hips before descending his lips upon your core. Aemond had an inkling that his brother would awaken, a sick desire to show the king what was his overwhelmed him. Lost in the depths of the mindnumbing pleasure that devoured your wit, you were none the wiser with your husband’s little game. He was wary enough to cover your bareness with his body, though the sweet sounds emanating from your lips were hard to stifle. Still, your husband had no complaints. 

Your husband was like a man starved, devouring your sweet ambrosia like it was the water that gave him life. You bit back the mewls that threatened to escape your mouth, though your efforts were futile as they only grew in volume with your impending release.

“Aemond, the curtain,” you mumbled before a moan cut off your words. You reached out to the curtain hanging from your bedpost, urging your husband to cover you for the sake of decency. If he even heard your word, he paid them no mind while he continued to fuck you with his tongue. His nose nuzzled against your pearl, the sparks of pleasure shooting from your nub sending you into a dizzying haze. Your release washed over you like the tide, and you had barely been granted a moment of reprieve to see if Aegon had been disturbed before your husband had freed his cock, sparing no second and breaching your walls. 

You threw your head back into the feather mattress, a breathless whine escaping your lips as he rutted into you at an unforgiving pace. Your hands clung onto your husband’s shoulders while you willed yourself to stay mindful of the noise, yet you couldn’t help the soft whines of your husband’s name that left your lips, much to the one-eyed prince’s delight. 

Aegon’s cock strained painfully in his breeches at the sweet sounds you were making for his brother. His hand twitched to rub at his bulge, and he subtly covered his lap with a cushion to pleasure himself. From his view, he was only granted the sight of his brother’s back while your legs wrapped around his trim waist, but the lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin made Aegon’s skin tingle and his cock jump against his palm. He rubbed himself in tandem with the rhythm of the bedframe’s creaking, praying that the darkness of the room made it so that neither of you would catch him in the act. 

Aemond surged forward to meet your lips in a kiss that was a mess of teeth, tongue, and spit. His pace remained relentless, determined to make you fall apart on his cock while his brother helplessly watched. One quick look behind him and he had seen Aegon, crowned king of the Seven Kingdoms, pathetically jerking himself off to the sight of him fucking his wife. Aemond may have once coveted the crown placed upon his brother’s head and the glory that came along with it, but for once he had something his brother wanted. Nothing else would ever come above the warmth of your embrace and the sweet nectar from between your thighs. As a second son he would be bestowed no lands, no legacy, and no other glory, but what more would a man need than a wife who sang the loveliest melody while he split her open with his cock?

Your nails dug into the hard planes of Aemond’s back as he drove you further into your second peak. It was all overwhelming, the caution of keeping quiet, the mind-numbing pleasure of your prince’s cock driving into your cunt, and his grunts of pleasure in your ear, coupled with the electrifying sparks of his thumb playing with your pearl. 

“Do you like this, dear wife? Making me fuck you while your king lay asleep in our chambers? Is this what you wanted, hm? Is this what you wanted me to do?” Aemond growled in your ear, punctuating each query with a harsh thrust. You could only whine and whimper in response, while the warmth in your belly only grew higher, and higher, until it spread all over like cold water, making you spill around Aemond’s cock while you moaned in ecstasy. 

Behind you, Aegon bit his lip harshly as he spilled into his breeches, the sounds of your release driving him towards his. He pressed his face into the cushion to hide his panting, his skin growing heated with the humid air of sex that filled the room. 

Aemond soon spurted his own seed into your core, the pulsing of your walls milking him dry while his thrusts slowed. He collapsed on top of you for a moment, breathing in the scent of your damp skin while he caught his breath. 

“I love you.” He said against your skin, this time without the anger behind his words.

You caressed your husband’s hair while he continued to lay on top of you, equally feeling as boneless with his weight engulfing you comfortingly like a blanket. 

“I love you,” you whispered in response. “There is nothing else I desire for in this world other than you, my love.”

Aegon felt an odd twinge in his chest at your words. For a moment, just a few seconds, he fantasized you had uttered those words to him, and you were his.

After regaining your senses, you lifted your head slightly to take a peek at Aegon. From the view where you lay, it looked to you that the king remained peacefully asleep despite you and your husband’s activities. Though the darkness in the room betrayed you, making it hard for you to actually see the tear that had streaked down his cheek.

“I guess that didn’t wake him up,” you mused. Aemond merely hummed in response, his face still buried in the crook of your neck.

“No, he can sleep through anything. Must be nice.” Aemond said quietly. He bit back the smirk at your blissful unawareness, moving to lay on his back before pulling you to his chest.

“Will you promise me that you will talk to him? On the morrow?” you asked, looking up at him with hope. Your husband nodded, sealing his promise with a kiss on your forehead. He pulled the covers over the both of you, rubbing your back while you drifted off into slumber. Your husband held you tight through the night, pleasantly satisfied. 

You remained asleep when Aemond had gotten up just as the sun broke through the horizon, pulling away from you to prepare for his morning training. After getting dressed in his training clothes, Aemond approached his brother’s sleeping figure on the daybed, nudging him awake. He threw a spare training jacket to Aegon, which covered his confused face, dazed with exhaustion. 

“Get up,” Aemond said coldly, eyeing his brother with indifference. “You’re going to train with me.” 

The kind did not appreciate his brother's prodding. He would have preferred to sleep for another hour if Aemond would allow it, but he also knew his brother rarely allowed things that he, himself did not have a preference for, and so Aegon rose from the daybed with great annoyance, and a deep sense of contempt. He let out a groan when he stretched his aching limbs, the exhaustion from the previous night still coursing through his muscles. Aegon had been talking a little too loud for Aemond’s liking, who turned to his brother to quiet him. 

“Shut it. Do not disturb my wife,” he hissed, eyeing your sleeping figure when you slightly stirred. Aegon rolled his eyes at his brother’s order, though obediently changing his dirty doublet for his brother’s gambeson. 

“You’re one to talk about disturbing others in their sleep,” the king grumbled under his breath. Aemond merely let out a breathy chuckle at his brother’s words. 

This idiot. Subtlety was never his strong suit.

While Aegon finished up the last buckle of his garment, Aemond kneeled one knee on the bed to lean over your sleeping figure, planting a small kiss on your forehead. You let out a small dreamy hum in response, still deep into the throes of your slumber. Aemond pulled up the furs to cover you better, before turning to Aegon and leading him outside.

The morning air was crisp when the brothers descended the steps to the training yard. Few littered about, mostly servants running around in preparation for the day. The surprise in their gaze was undeniable at witnessing their king awake so early, the sight of him in the training yard with his brother clearly not a usual occurrence. 

The brothers sparred together, or rather, Aegon was pathetically dodging his brother’s attacks while Aemond swung at him with a skilled ease. It was clear there was a tension between the two, one they were both well aware of the reason why. With only a few hits in, Aegon had already begun to pant, the years of his negligence in his sword training catching up to him quickly.

“I hope the satisfaction you get from this helps to quench the fire in your cock, brother,” the king taunted, heaving.

“There’s only one person who can quench the fire in my cock, and it certainly isn’t you,” Aemond retorted, indifference coating his tone but a smirk decorated his lips.  “My wife tells me you had something to say to me. What was so important you chose to intrude on my wife in the middle of the night?”

Aegon held up a hand in defeat, dropping his sword carelessly into the dirt before bending over to lean his hands on his knees. He took deep breaths while he willed himself not to vomit, the wine in his stomach not settling well with the strenuous ordeal he found himself in so early in the morning.

Essos. His crown for freedom. All of those now seemed like a faraway dream, with the way his brother looked down on him with an unhidden contempt, the effort would be completely futile.

“I thought we could talk, as brothers. Yet standing here in front of you know, I see that is far likely to happen, Aemond,” Aegon said, resignation in his tone. His brother scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief.

​​“Talk,” Aemond said, his voice filled with sarcasm. He let out a small chuckle, grabbing a rag to wipe his sword.

“We can talk,” Aemond expressed, his tone carrying a feigned lightness that perturbed Aegon. “Just not about your little obsession with my wife, brother.”

“My obsession?” Aegon responded, incredulous. He looked at Aemond in utter disbelief, who continued to clean his sword calmly.

“If anyone is obsessing about someone here, Aemond, it is not me. You are too quick to anger, too riddled with jealousy of me that you cannot stand for me to be in a room with her. I would almost think you were afraid of being bested by me,” Aegon said, his lips curling into a sneer. His brother halted in the middle of his wiping, the hand holding the hilt of his sword gripping the handle tight. Aegon gulped at the sight, wary of the younger’s growing temper. Aemond turned to the king, narrowing his good eye at him.

“I do not fear you, Aegon. Do not pretend,” he said, an eerie calmness in his tone. Aegon took a careful step back as his brother stepped forward, crossing his arms behind his back. “I wouldn’t give a shit about you being around her if I didn’t know your damned thoughts about her. She is mine.”

Aegon’s clenched jaw mirrored Aemond’s. His brother’s words left him with no reasonable defense. His affection for his brother’s wife was now out in the open, and he feared the repercussions. 

“How do you know what I think of her? What makes you think I even want her?” Aegon responded, anger in his voice. 

“It is because I know you, Aegon. You are predictable, you grow wide-eyed at the first thing that you believe would grant you the smallest ounce of affection. It is pitiful, really, especially for a king,” Aemond sneered. Any snark rebuttal Aegon had died on his lips as he shrunk in the weight of his brother’s gaze. The younger prince’s stare was piercing, jabbing through Aegon’s skin, prodding at his bare bones. “If I see you making eyes at her again, I swear to it, there won’t be enough blood left in your body to even cry to the gods that they might spare you.”

Aegon could only stare at his brother, his response sending a chill down his spine. He had never feared the younger prince before, in all his physical prowess and ruthlessness, but as they stood in the quiet yard, he had begun to falter.

“All this for a woman, brother?” Aegon asked, voice low as he could only stare at his younger brother. Aemond huffed, standing tall over his king. 

“Yes,” Aemond said. “Over this woman.”

But I am your blood, Aegon wanted to say, but he could only stare.

“Don’t take it personally, brother. If any other man were standing in front of me, I would have said the same thing,” Aemond said, tilting his head mockingly. The one-eyed prince ignored the nagging in his consciousness, one that resembled his mother’s stern voice.

‘We must protect our own,’ she would always say, though as her sons now stood face to face, they couldn’t be more of a threat to each other. Perhaps he had gone too far, but he couldn’t let the fucker have more than he deserved. He already had the crown, the Conqueror’s name. He loved his brother, the gods know he did, but he would breathe fire onto the seven kingdoms if it meant it kept you by his side. 

Aegon could only sigh in defeat, kicking a small pebble by his feet as he sniffled.

“She is all yours, Aemond, do not fret. You have made that very clear. I shall take my leave, this conversation has certainly been the most… fruitful,” Aegon said, smiling sarcastically. The elder turned before Aemond could respond, walking back into the Keep.

Watching Aegon walk away, Aemond pondered on the weight of his words, what this would mean for you and for Aegon, realizing too late what he had failed to do. 

“Fuck,” he said beneath his breath. He closed his eye exasperatedly, stretching his neck backwards to face the sky. “My wife is going to kill me.”

#bella writes ✍️ #this is queued #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagines #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen imagines #aegond #targtowers #aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #hotd #aemond fic recs #aegon ii fic recs #ewan mitchell #tom glynn carney #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aegmond

[steddieas-shegoes]

not so different

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt ‘graduation’

rated t | 994 words | cw: mention of past character death, mention of alcohol, language | tags: childhood friends, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, good uncle Wayne Munson

🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦

Steve Harrington didn’t cry, not even when he fell off the slide at the playground and his knee bled for 15 minutes and his nanny had to call his mom.

But this was a special instance where he was allowed to be sad. His nanny even said so. He watched all the kids in his kindergarten class taking pictures with their moms and dads, uncles and aunts, grandpas and grandmas, and wondered why he didn’t have anyone here for him.

He found an empty classroom in the big kid hall as soon as the ceremony was done, sat behind the teacher’s desk, and cried into his knees.

“Did your daddy not show up either?” A voice asked from in front of him.

He lifted his head, vision blurry and face wet, to see Eddie.

Eddie had already done kindergarten once, but he had trouble with his phonics, so they kept him behind. He was the first kid to talk to Steve in class, but within a few days, Tommy and Carol and Heather had scared him away from Steve entirely.

“Um, no.”

“What about your mama?”

“She’s with my dad.”

“My mama is with God. Or that’s what a lot of people say. I dunno if she was friends with him or not, though. I think she just got buried in the ground and people are scared to tell me,” Eddie was sitting next to Steve now, his leg knocking against Steve’s.

Eddie didn’t sit still very well, and the teacher always said he had ants in his pants. Steve hoped he didn’t have them in there now; he didn’t want any ants on him.

“Where’s your dad?”

“He’s probably getting ‘rested again. He showed up being silly and my Uncle Wayne had to take him outside,” Eddie shrugged.

“Is he tired?” Steve asked, sniffling and leaning more against Eddie.

“No. Uncle Wayne says sometimes he has too much of the drinks in the bottles I’m not allowed to touch and it makes him act like he don’t got a brain,” Eddie didn’t sound that sad, but Steve still wanted to hug him. “So your daddy isn’t here?”

“No. I think he forgot.”

“Sorry he forgot. My Uncle Wayne never forgets. He even came to the lunch room for my birthday. He brought me a piece of pizza!” Eddie always sounded more excited than anyone else. Most of the kids in the class thought it was stupid, but Steve kind of liked the way his eyes got wide and his smile got so big it took up most of his face. “Maybe he can bring you a piece for your birthday next year.”

“He doesn’t even know me.”

“You can come meet him!”

The classroom door opened just as Eddie started to stand and reach for Steve’s hands to pull him up.

“There ya are, Ed! Been lookin’ everywhere. You want some ice cream?” An older man stood by the door, button up plaid shirt only half-tucked into his jeans.

“Can we bring Steve? He’s my friend.”

Steve’s head turned, shocked that Eddie would say that.

“We gotta ask his parents first, Ed.”

“His parents didn’t come.”

“Oh.” The man looked Steve up and down before seemingly settling on something. He gave a small smile and gestured for him to come closer. “What’s your favorite flavor, then?”

“I dunno. Never had anything except vanilla,” Steve admitted, afraid to look at the man who had to be Eddie’s Uncle Wayne.

“Well, that just won’t do, will it? Let’s go try every flavor at the diner. Benny just added a few new ones. Think there’s even a bubblegum one.”

Eddie clapped his hands and dragged Steve out the door by his arm.

“I bet you’ll like mint chip,” he said as Wayne followed behind them, fond smile on his face.

🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦

Steve Harrington had only cried a few times in his life, but this was the second time it was happening in front of Eddie.

Eddie wasn’t conscious this time, though.

“If you wake up, I’ll take you to the diner and we can have ice cream. They’ve got a new raspberry white chocolate flavor that you’d like. I could use some mint chip right now,” Steve said around the tears.

Wayne had left the hospital an hour ago to freshen up and grab one of his crossword puzzle books. Steve had been crying for most of that hour, holding Eddie’s hand and quietly begging him to wake up.

Two days without hearing his voice or watching his smile light up the room was too long, especially after having it for the last 13 years.

“How’re you gonna walk at graduation if you’re still asleep here, huh?” Steve closed his eyes and wiped at his cheeks.

“You can walk with me.”

Steve’s head shot up at Eddie’s quiet, but surprisingly strong voice.

“Eddie!”

“Hey, Stevie. Heard you’re takin’ me for ice cream,” Eddie’s smile was crooked, the bandage on his cheek covering one of his dimples.

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except for Eddie being awake, being alive, being okay.

“Yeah, Eds. Every day if you want,” Steve wanted to crawl into the bed with him, hold him close and feel him breathing and listen to his heartbeat, be sure he was there.

“Gonna hold you to that.”

“Soon as you can leave, that’ll be our first stop. Promise.”

Eddie closed his eyes, but the smile remained on his face. “You slept?”

“A bit.”

“So no.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “A bit.”

“C’mere.”

“Honey, you’re hurt-“

“Come here.”

Steve got in bed slowly, making sure he kept space between himself and Eddie’s injuries.

“Think I’ll graduate?”

Steve snorted. “They’d be stupid to hold you back after you saved everyone.”

“Yeah. ‘M a hero. Fuck Hawkins High.”

Steve could feel more tears trickle down his cheeks, but these were different.

These were relieved tears, happy tears.

“Yeah, honey. Fuck them.”

“Love you, though.”

“Love you so much.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddieholidaydrabbles #graduation #childhood friends #friends to lovers #wayne munson #hurt/comfort

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: It's Rebecca Black day

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

As expected, your mother is waiting anxiously for your return. It’s not often you’re at the mercy of her disapproval but she has some choice words for both you and Roxie.

Why didn’t you call? You forgot to, everything was so chaotic. Why would you make me worry like that? You know how I am, it isn’t fair to not answer your phone. I was about to call the police. You’ve heard the same aimed at your sister dozens of times but it’s much different to be at the end of it. 

Once she’s done and you feel thoroughly guilty, you retreat to your room. That’s all you wanted. For the last day, all you wanted was to hide away. Yet, now that you’re safely behind familiar walls, you still feel unsettled. 

That’s enough excitement for a lifetime. How does Roxie think that is fun? It’s terrifying. 

You take out your laptop, your most prized possession, and sink back into your virtual cave. It’s safe there. The things you see on the internet are distant and often times fake. Fanfiction and streams and discussion boards. It’s all so menial and unimportant. It’s not finding a job and dragging your butt to work five days a week or disappointing your mother. 

Mm, well, you should check the job boards again. Something’s going to come up eventually. That’s what everyone says and those people have jobs. Even Roxie works, even if it is at a night club. It’s work and she brings home some impressive tips. When your mom asked her to get you a gig, she just laughed. 

You interviewed at Taco Bell a few weeks ago but you haven’t got a call. That’s probably not going to work out. Move on, try again and again and again. 

The computer doesn’t keep your focus as usual. Maybe it’s that you’re overtired or that your mom was so upset or everything that happened last night, but you just can’t rein it in. You close your laptop and lay flat on your bed. You close your eyes, exhaustion hot on your eyelids, but you can’t sleep. You’re no good at napping. What are you good at? 

You sigh and kick your feet. What are you going to do? You can’t spend another summer like this. You’re not like everyone else. You didn’t get into your school and you didn’t get some lofty job from your uncle’s company. As much as you can blame it on other’s luck, you have to acknowledge you’re own shortcoming. You procrastinate, you get nervous, and sometimes, you just avoid things altogether. 

You get up and grab your purse. The strap catches on your sweater and knocks it onto the floor. You search for your phone and pull it out. You bend to retrieve your cardigan and toss it with your purse back onto the dress. You look down as something flutters onto the carpet. 

You didn’t forget about the little note. It’s the weight that been on your shoulders. You take your phone and the paper and sit on the side of the bed. You can rip it up, crumple it and toss it in the bin, pretend nothing ever happened. You should. Just forget about the worst night of your life. 

You can’t. It’s not about your sister’s drunken display or your embarrassment. It’s about a job.  

You hang your head as your nose tingles. Your mom works her butt off and she’s so giving. You want to return the favour. Even if it’s small. Even if it’s just you paying for some of the groceries or a bill or giving her a few bucks. If you don’t try this time, you won’t be able to forget. You’ll always know that you are the reason you came up short. 

You unlock your phone and key in the number. You drop it and let the paper fall too as you stand. You pace around in circles until you’re dizzy. You hate making phone calls. The sound of your own voice is grating. Ugh.  

No, you have to do it. You can do this. It’s one phone call. What if that’s the job? What if you’re answering a phone? Get over yourself. Grow up! 

You pick up your phone and hit call. Your chest locks up. You can’t breathe. Oh god. If you can’t breathe you can’t speak. You hang up and squeak. Frig. No, don’t give up. 

You try again. This time, you force out an exhale and shakily hold the phone to your ear. There’s an answer after two rings. 

“Barnes,” a voice declares from the other end. 

“Erm, oh, Bucky? It’s... me,” you stutter out, giving your name as you realise he won’t recognise your voice. 

“Ah, hi, doll, give me a moment, one sec,” he says and you hear a scuffing on the other end and a muffled ‘excuse me’. His movement rustles and he clears his throat directly into the speaker, “there we are, doll, all yours. How are you?” 

“Uh, alright, I’m fine, er, oh... you?” You close your eyes, Just melt into a puddle and absorb into the carpet.  

“Doing great now, hearing from you,” he purrs, “I’m very happy you called.” 

“Mhm, well...” you put your hand to your neck. Your skin is burning. “I... was calling about the job. In the note.” 

“Of course, doll, so you’re interested?” 

Desperate, but you won’t tell him that. “Yes, please, I mean--” you cringe. You’re not ordering ice cream, “would... what would be... would there be an interview?” 

“Sure, doll,” he says. His tone is light and airy. Is he making fun of you or are you just self-conscious? Both, probably. “How about you come by the casino tomorrow at noon? Does that work for you?” 

“Yeah, uh, whenever,” you agree, “I can get a ride.” 

“Sounds like a plan. Can’t wait,” he coos. 

“Right, uh, okay, yeah, I’ll see you,” you babble dumbly. 

“Mm, yeah, see ya then, doll,” he intones. 

“Yep, er, bye.” 

“Bye--” 

You hang up in a half-panic. You did it. You made the call and you got an interview. You think. The conversation wasn’t what you expected but you think it went well.  

You blow out through your lips and grip your phone tight. Your heart hammers again. You march to the door and stop just before you can grip the knob. You’re excited but scared to tell your mom. 

You swing the door open and clammer through. You hear her in the kitchen doing dishes. It’s Roxie turn so of course your sister is sitting on the couch nursing another coffee. 

“Mom,” you slow and tap your phone against your leg as you stop by the counter, “I... I got an interview.” 

“An interview?” Her surprise is genuine, both in her expression and her voice as she looks at you. Her face blooms in a smile. “That’s wonderful. When?” 

“Tomorrow,” you utter. 

“Tomorrow?” She echoes. 

“At noon.” 

“Noon, okay, I can come home from work and drive you, but you’ll have to get a cab home. I should have enough for the fare.” 

“Ah, yeah, okay,” you clutch your phone in front of you and sway, “thanks.” 

“No problem,” she chimes, “where is it?” 

“What?” 

“The interview.” 

“Oh, at the casino.” 

“The casino?” She turns back to the sink and stares into the water as she scrubs, “hm, interesting. What will you be doing?” 

“Hm, I... don’t know yet. Maybe a cleaner.” 

“Oh, that’s not bad at all,” she says, “think I have a shirt you can wear. Maybe I could hem a pair of my pants for you tonight.” 

“Mom, you don’t have to--” 

“You should look nice,” she undercuts, “it’s not a big deal. Besides, it would be really good if you got a job.” 

You nod. You can hear the thinness in her voice. She tries to hide it but you know it’s not easy around here. You saw the red notice in the mail box and heard her on the phone with the landlord. The bough is close to breaking. 

“Thanks, I’ll... I’ll do my best.” 

“I know you will,” she trills. 

You smile and go back to your room. You shut the door and shudder. Great, now you’ve hurdled over the phone call, you can dread what comes next. Not just venturing out into the general public but going to an interview. It’s one thing after another. It feels like a lot after so long of nothing. 

🃏

Your mom lets you out in Lot 4. It’s far from the main entrance but she’s in a hurry to get back to work. You won’t keep her. You can walk a bit. 

The sun has you sweating along with the polyester trousers. The belt is pinned and the legs have been hastily hemmed. The blouse doesn’t breathe either but you managed to iron the wrinkle out of the sleeve. 

You come to the front doors and steel yourself. Your mascara sticks as you feel the perspiration around your eyes. Oof. You did your best to follow the tutorial with your sister's borrowed makeup but you skipped the eye liner; it only ever turns out smudgy. 

You enter and the air conditioning cools the heat in your cheeks and chest. The woman behind the counter greets you with a smile and a ‘how are you’ before asking if you’re checking in. You’re almost speechless at the sight of her. She’s so pretty and she can do the contour the way those girls on Youtube do. You wouldn’t be good for that job; not gorgeous like her. 

“Um, yeah, actually, I’m here for an interview,” you say. 

“An interview?” She tilts her head, “I didn’t see anything...” she clicks around with the slim mouse on the desk, “who were you interviewing with?” 

“Bucky, uh, Mr. Barnes,” you say. “Well, I spoke with him. Maybe I’m supposed to talk to someone else?” 

She says your name and glances from the screen to you. You nod, “yeah?” 

“Right, okay, I see,” she keeps her shining smile, “Mr. Barnes has a car waiting for you.” 

“A car?” Your brows pop up. “Alright.” 

“If you just want to head back out, it should be waiting there. You’ll see Merv, he has white hair.” 

“Okay, thanks,” you reply then gulp as you turn around. 

You turn slowly and go back to the doors. What is going on? He said to meet him here but he isn’t here? He would be a busy man. You just hope you don’t blow it. 

You pull the doors open and come down the shallow steps. A man with white hair stands by a dark car. One more mountain to climb. 

“Uh, hello, are you... Merv?” 

“That’s me, miss,” he stands straight, “you must be the lady.” 

“I... guess.” 

“Come on then,” he turns and opens the door, “Mr. Barnes doesn’t like to wait.” 

“Okay, sorry,” you step off the curb and climb into the car.  

The door shuts and you buckle up. At least the interior is cool. You snap the belt into place as Merv gets in the front. He rests a hand on the wheel and points with the other. 

“You want this up or down?” He points to the barrier between the front and back. 

“Oh, I don’t... whatever you like,” you shrug. 

He chuckles, “miss, you’re a lot sweeter than the other ones.” 

Other ones? Of course there would be other candidates. You wonder if this is a test. If maybe Merv is going to tell Bucky that you’re too quiet. 

“Do you like Springsteen?” He asks as he slowly pulls out. 

“Don’t mind him,” you answer. Honestly, you don’t really know any of his music.  

Merv flips on the stereo, “I like you even more.” 

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #casino au #mcu #marvel #all in #series #captain america #winter soldier

[joonsmagicshop]

Stress Relief Part 6- KTH

 Summary: A couple weeks ago Taehyung asked a favor. For you to have sex with his bandmates to relieve some tension and stress. How can you say no to that.

Paring: Taehyung/Reader

Rating: M/18+

Word Count: 5k

Tags: smut, a tad bit of angst, soft dom taehyung, dirty talk, fingering, jealous/anxious taehyung, sex, spanking.

Authors Note: Taetae!!!! the boy that started this whole thing. I said I was going to give him a chapter of his own and here we are.

In case you missed it

Intro Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Kim Taehyung was used to sharing.

He started his career cramped in a dorm with six other guys, so sharing stuff was a given.

He shared everything from clothes to socks, to food and recently he decided to share his friend with benefits.

The whole thing started innocently enough. He could see how stressed everyone was and how the tour prep affected them. Practice started to be less fun and everyone was high-strung and snapping at each other. Taehyung just wanted everything to be fun again.

So he asked you first and was happy you were on board.

He just wanted everyone to be happy and not so stressed.

He still remembers the first time Jimin reached out to you. Jimin was a nervous wreck and Taehyung helped him through it. Reminding Jimin that you were a wonderful caring person, and it was a favor, nothing to be afraid of.

Jungkook was next and Taehyung could almost see the stress melt off of him when he walked into the studio the next day, it was as if a dark raincloud had lifted and they spent the whole day giggling and goofing off, much to the older members dismay.

Next came Jin, who was a lot more subtle but Taehyung had a feeling something happened because he came in with a big smirk on his face after his night with you.

Taehyung of course knew something happened with you and Yoongi because Namjoon decided to schedule a meeting and scolded them all for “fraternizing” with you, Taehyung looked over at Yoongi who had his arms crossed over his chest and looked bored out of his mind but there was a slight smile on his lips.

Taehyung was happy all his members were so happy, but the thing about sharing is that other people have to be willing to share too.

And Taehyung was struggling with that.

Every time he reached out to you for the past two weeks you had been busy. You were always polite over text but he had a hard time scheduling alone time with you.

He chalked it up to coincidence the first couple of times, but now it was becoming a problem, a big problem as he had not seen you in almost two months.

And sure he could use his hand but it wasn’t the same as having a person do it for you, he missed your perfume and the breathy noises you made when you were about to cum, he especially missed the way your eyes sparkled after sex and how you would look at him in such a way it would make him feel giddiness bubble up in his chest

But he let it slide because he was sharing, he was the one to start this, he couldn’t stop it now, not when they were so close to the start of the tour, not when everyone was still stressed out.

However, that’s when the anxieties started to kick in.

What if you didn’t want him anymore?

What if you liked the other members better?

What if you used him to get to the other members and ditched him the second you could?

What if the whole thing was an elaborate plan to get to your bias (even though you told him time and time again you didn’t have one)

Taehyung was starting to make himself sick with worry, the whole thing got worse when he overheard Jimin and Jin talking about you.

Because now not only was it sex, but you were also casually hanging out with them.

You would play video games with Jin and have dance parties with Jimin. Even Jungkook took you on a ride on his motorcycle and said how good it felt to have your arms wrapped around his waist.

You never did those things with Taehyung.

You were moving on and leaving him behind.

Taehung felt like crying, he felt hollow and anxious and couldn’t shake the feeling.

One day he asked Namjoon if he could go home early because it was all too much, you had ignored his last message completely and he felt like he was going to be sick.

Namjoon nodded with a concerned look on his face as Taehyung called one of the drivers to come to pick him up from the studio.

He didn’t go home though, he needed answers once and for all, and if you weren’t going to answer him, he was going to come to you.

---------

The bath had been a perfect way to help alleviate your cramps. You made the water extra hot and spent time with your eyes closed letting the steam and the lavender bath bomb ease your mind and body.

Once you step out of the shower you decide to wear your baggiest sweatpants and your biggest sweater.

You left the bathroom and went to your room to grab your heating pad, casually throwing it on the couch as you checked your phone for when the pizza would arrive.

You ordered it right when you got out of the bath so you were surprised to hear a persistent knock on your door. There was no way the pizza was done already.

Abandoning your phone on the table you opened the door to find yourself face-to-face with Taehyung and you gasped.

He looked as beautiful as as always with his messy brown hair and his pressed shirt and pants, but the look he was giving you was pure coldness and you knew right away something was wrong.

He entered your place without speaking a word to you and his eyes gazed around your apartment. His eyes stayed locked on your couch for a while, taking in the fact there was an RJ plush on it and you bit your lip.

“Taehyung what’s going on what are you doing here?” You asked as he finally turned around and stared at you.

“What? You were expecting someone else? Mabe Jimin? Or Yoongi?” He questioned, his voice laced with venom that made you nervous.

“I wasn’t expecting anyone I just got out of the bath. What’s going on?” You asked again.

“What’s going on is that you don’t like me anymore. You used to me to get to my members and ditched me the second you did. You are replacing me.” He accuses as he steps towards you, his eyes dark and his tongue darting out to lick at his lips.

“What! Tae you know that’s not true.” You say as he cages you against the wall and you cower under him.

“I started this whole thing Y/N. And you used me. So I’m going to fuck you so you remember who the hell you belong to.” He growls as his lips come to ghost at your ear.

“I’m going to bite you and mark you as mine so when you do fuck someone else they know you have been spoken for. I have been generous with my members but not anymore.” He says as his hands travel up your thigh.

You grab his wrist to stop him and his eyes snap to yours.

“Tae. I…we can’t.” You whisper feeling small under his gaze.

He stares at you with his mouth open in shock. Then he pulls away and steps back looking distraught.

“So I was right. You don’t want me anymore, you don’t like me anymore. I bet if I was Jungkook you’d have no issue huh?” He accuses looking sad.

“Tae that’s not it at all!” You plea as you stay frozen against the wall.

“Yeah, then what’s your grand excuse? You have been busy every time I reach out. I haven’t seen you in months, if you don’t want me just say it.” He says crossing his arms over his chest.

“Tae. Of course I want you. God I want you so bad. I’ve missed you.” You whisper feeling your heart break at how sad he looks.

Before he can open his mouth to argue you walk towards him.

“Tae I haven’t forgotten you or replaced you. I want to have sex with you badly, like holy fuck you pushing me up against the wall. Wow. But I’m on my period, day two of my period and it’s heavy. I just got out of the bath because my cramps were so bad.” You explain as his eyes soften.

“I-Shit.” He says and you giggle softly grabbing for his arms so you can uncross them and hold his hands.

“Taetae. Talk to me. What’s going on.” You say as you intertwine your fingers and he stares at you with an embarrassed look on his face.

“I reached out to you a bunch of times and you were always busy. I was happy to share but I never get to see you anymore! I miss you. I miss so many things about you and now you are too busy for me! And I hear the way Jin and Jimin talk. You don’t just have sex with them you hang out with them and have fun with them. I felt like I was being left behind because we never did those things. And now I barged in here like an ass hole and embarrassed myself.” He admits as you squeeze his hands and his face lifts to yours.

“And you replaced my Tata with a stupid RJ. He’s not as cool as Tata.” Taehyung pouts and you laugh and grab his hands as you take him through your apartment to your bedroom.

And Taehyung feels even more silly and embarrassed when he sees his Tata plush on your bed, surrounded by pillows.

“I keep him on my bed because he’s a good snuggler. I think Jin gave me RJ as a joke to rival your Tata. RJ has never spent the night with me though, he just hangs out on the couch.” You say softly as Taehyung's eyes well up with tears.

“I feel stupid and silly.” He admits as you pull him in for a hug and stroke his hair.

“Taehyung I could never replace you and I’d never want to. Things just got…busy. I didn’t mean to make you feel ignored or replaced. Sure I’ve had fun with the others but they aren’t you. Though if you need to remind me who I belong to when my period is over….I won’t complain.” You tease as he lets out a breathy laugh and pulls away from your hug.

You wipe the tears from his face as the doorbell rings.

“How about you set the table and I grab the pizza yeah?” You say as he nods and hurries to the kitchen as you pay the delivery person.

Taehyung has everything set up when you get back and you giggle at how excited he looks to be spending time with you.

You both make your plates and sit at the table. You make sure to scoot your chair extra close to him and he grins.

“I feel like an idiot.” He says after taking a bite and staring at the tablecloth.

“It’s okay.” You respond as he nudges his shoulder to yours.

“No, it’s not. I shouldn’t have shown up unannounced. I should not have barged in and acted like that. It’s just I got really anxious and felt like you didn’t like me anymore. I’m so sorry Y/N I acted like a dick.” He says as you turn to face him, letting your knees bump.

“It’s okay Tae. Really. Kinda hot with you all dominant like that.” You tease as he blushes and stares at you.

“Come on don’t say stuff like that. I haven’t seen you in ages and I’m going to get hard.” He whines as you laugh and pull him in for a kiss.

His mouth molds to yours instantly and you sigh when he tangles his hands in your hair. You get up from your seat, not bothering to disconnect your lips from his as you stand between his legs to get closer to him, to deepen the kiss as you run your hands up and down his strong thighs.

“Fuck baby what did I say about you getting me hard.” He grumbles against your mouth as you giggle and press a kiss to each of his cheeks and then to the tip of his nose.

“I can’t help it Tae. You are so kissable.” you coo as you run your hands through his hair to push it back from his forehead so you can kiss there too.

“I did miss you. Honest.” You admit as he nods and bites at his lip.

“I missed you so much.” He says as you kiss him again.

His hands rest on your waist as he kisses you, his thumbs digging into your skin as you both take your time with this kiss, savoring the way it makes you both feel.

You pull away once you feel breathless and Tae has a soft pink blush staining his cheeks, he looks so cute like this that you can’t help but grin.

“How about we have a movie night tonight with lots of cuddles? I want to make you feel appreciated Tae. Then when I am off my period you will be the first to know, and maybe we can pick up where we left off?” You tease as he groans and buries his face in your shoulder.

You look down and can see a sizeable bulge in his pants and when you reach down for it he swats your hand away.

“Please. I want to be able to do it the both of us. I can wait.” He says as you grin and clean up the kitchen before snuggling on the couch with the blankets and the cuddles you promised.

The text came three days later and Taehyung nearly ran over to your place once he checked his phone.

This time he knocked on the door with excitement and grinned when you flung it open nearly knocking it into the wall.

“Someone’s excited.” He teased as you grinned and let your eyes wander his body.

“Clearly you are too.” You teased back as you eyed the sizeable bulge in his pants and he palmed his erection as he grabbed the door to close it.

“I feel like I have been hard for the last three days. Fuck didn’t even touch myself because I wanted to save it all for you.” He admits which has your heart racing as you grab his hands to take him to your bedroom.

In an instant he has you pushed up against the wall and is attacking you with kisses. The kisses are needy and urgent and you melt into his touch as you wrap your arms around his shoulders to bring him closer as he nips and sucks at your lips.

Everything is heated and passionate and when he grinds his bulge into your core you whine at the delicious friction.

“Fuck Tae.” You moan as he grabs you and hoists you up in his arms to carry you to the bed. He throws you down and quickly climbs on top of you to kiss you all over again.

Your hands tangle in his messy hair and he leans over you supporting his weight on his arms as he continues to grind his cock into your clothed core making you moan and whine under him.

“God you feel so good.” He growls as his hands come to the hem of your shirt and he pulls it off.

His eyes widen when he realizes you aren’t wearing a bra.

“Fuck baby you spoil me.” He mutters as he straddles your lap, his large hands coming up to play with your tits. He rolls them in his palm before using his thumbs to swipe at your nipples making you arch into his hard cock which is trapped in his jeans.

He takes his time with your tits. He licks his thumbs before rubbing your nipples again, making your pussy throb and your head spin.

“Tae, please. Touch me.” You beg as you arch up into him trying to get friction on your pussy as the ache is starting to become unbearable.

“I am touching you.” He teases as he leans forward to press hot open-mouthed kisses to your collarbones and your bare skin.

You grab at his belt loops to pull his crotch closer to where you need it and he chuckles darkly against your skin as he chooses a spot and begins to suck and nip.

He promised to leave you marked up and Taehyung never breaks his promises.

You are a whining, moaning mess under his hands and body and he feels his cock throb and twitch in his jeans. The restriction is uncomfortable but he wants to focus on you. He wants to make you feel good because you deserve that.

Once he is satisfied with the hickey on your collarbone he moves down to suck your nipple into his mouth. He lightly grazes it with his teeth and you whine and shake under him as he sucks it, hard.

Your hands come to his hips as you push them forward and back trying to get him to grind against you.

Taehyung knows what you are trying to do and he lets you because it feels so damn good on his cock which is still trapped in his jeans.

“God baby you feel so good.” He moans against your skin as you continue to grind against him.

You make a needy noise in the back of your throat and Tae pushes off of you to roll to the other side of the bed. He can’t handle having these jeans on anymore and practically rips them off his body which has you grinning next to him.

“Fuck why do I wear tight jeans around you. Big mistake.”

Your eyes take in his appearance as he rips his shirt over his head. His hair is a mess and his eyes are blown wide. His body is lean and gorgeous and his cock is creating a bulge in his blue boxers that has your mouth watering.

You take action and rip off your pants before straddling him and placing your underwear-clad pussy over his cock which has him throwing his head back into the pillows and moaning.

You slowly grind against him as his hands come to grab at your hips and you place your own hands on his chest where you can feel his heart breathing erratically as his eyes are blown wide and staring at you.

“Fuck Tae I love grinding on your cock.” You whine as his hands forcefully move your hips so you are grinding harder and faster against him.

“Mmm god, I missed this. You don’t understand how much I missed this.” He admits as you press soft kisses to his neck and collarbones.

“I missed this too. You feel so good under me.”

He lets out a moan when you position your hips so you are grinding right on his cock head and he savors it for a moment or two before he flips you over and grabs at your underwear almost ripping them clean off before you can lift your hips.

“Gotta prep you to take my cock.” He explains as he brings his hand down to cup at your heat which makes you grip the sheets and arch into his touch.

“Please Tae. Your fingers.” You plead with him feeling your pussy throb around nothing as he smirks and holds his hand up to your face.

“These fingers?” He teases and without warning you take two of his fingers into your hot wet mouth and begin to suck on them.

Tae immediately moans and uses his free hand to palm at his cock to alleviate some of the ache. You are so hot and just the image of you sucking on his fingers makes his cock leak.

He pulls them out of your mouth with a satisfying pop and you open your legs wider when he brings them down to your soaked core.

He slowly plays with your pussy lips, gathering the wetness before bringing it up to your clit. Just one swipe of your clit has you arching off the bed and crying out his name as he circles it with slow wide circles.

“Please Tae. God, please fill me up.” You beg grinding your hips down trying to get him to fill the ache between your legs.

Taehyung complies and slips one finger inside you. He groans when he feels how tight and wet you are.

He adds another one and begins to scissor them, impatience getting the best of him. He wanted to take his time with you but the way his cock is steadily leaking he knows he has to prep you fast before he comes in his boxers.

You are so lost in pleasure you hardly notice that his other hand takes out his cock to stroke it, but when you finally crack open your eyes to see him, muscles taught in his forearm, veins popping as he pumps his finger in and out of you. And his other hand. God his other hand stroking his hard cock which is flushed and angry, a gorgeous red color and leaking everywhere you promptly lose it.

You clamp down on him and cry out his name as your orgasm takes you by surprise. You didn’t think you were that close but your walls were fluttering around his digits and soaking his hand as you rode out your high with him coaxing it out of you with those long skilled fingers

Once he pulls out you slump into the bed and stare at him stary-eyed as he lets go of his cock and it bounces against his stomach.

“Fuck Tae.” You breathe out as he grins and gets off the bed to grab a condom from his jeans.

You admire his naked body as you shift up the bed and adjust the pillows the way he likes.

He rolls the condom onto his cock and you shift over so he can lay down with his head propped up.

“Gonna take care of you now. Gonna ride you Tae.” You whisper as you see his cock twitch when you straddle him.

You grab his cockhead to run it through your soaked folds and he groans as he watches you do it with lust-blown eyes.

You let his cockhead slip in and you hiss at the stretch but you take your time sinking down until he is deeply nestled inside of you.

You lean forward to peck his lips and you see his eyebrows furrow.

“You okay?” You check in as he stares at you and bites at his lip.

“I- fuck it’s been a while and I’m trying not to cum.” He admits shyly as you stare at him in shock.

“You just entered me. I haven’t even moved yet?” You tease as he grips your hips to stop you from making a move.

“I know but god you are so tight and wet and it just feels so fucking good. Please have mercy and give me a second.” He almost begs as you lean down to lay your head on his chest and let both of your breathing slow.

You decide to tease him a bit so you clamp down on his cock and he hisses and tightens his grip on your hips.

“Y/N” he warns as you chuckle.

“Such a fucking brat.” He grits out as you slowly move your hips and Taehyung struggles under you.

“I’m serious I’m gonna cum too early if you keep doing that.” He warns, hands so tight on your hips you know you will have bruises tomorrow.

You decide to actually let him calm down this time so you begin to slowly kiss his neck and collarbones. You leave feather-light kisses as you work your way down his body. Tae shudders out a breath and his grip on your hips loosen.

“You good?” You check in and he takes several deep breaths before nodding.

You slowly begin to grind against him, loving the feeling of his cock filling you up and when you start to bounce on his cock Taehyung grabs your hips and helps you through it.

The air is filled with his grunts and your high moans as you feel your orgasm start to build again. You can hear how wet you are by the noises your pussy makes and you can’t help but ride him harder as he is a whining moaning mess under your body.

Without warning a hand comes to slap at your ass and you gasp as you feel your pussy gush around him.

“Fuck you feel so good. Who do you belong to?” He demands as he slaps your ass again causing you to ride him harder.

“Y-You fuck Tae.” You can’t help but cry out as you feel your orgasm start to build faster and the coil of pressure gets tighter.

“That’s right you belong to me. My girl. My fuck toy. No one else’s.” Tae growls as you whine and continue to ride him, your legs start to burn but you are too close to stop.

His hand smacks your ass again and you whine and bury your face in his shoulder as you feel your entire body start to tingle, you roll your hips, and when he hits that spot inside of you a broken moan leaves your lips.

Tae grabs your hips roughly and forces you to bounce on his cock. All you can do is moan and whine as you beg him to let your cum. You are so close right on the edge and you want him to fall over with you.

“Please. Tae please let me cum. P-l-please.” You cry out as he delivers another harsh smack to your ass and you clamp around him.

“That’s right baby. Cum around my cock.” He says and right when he smacks your ass again you lose it.

You cry out his name as your walls flutter around his cock. You close your eyes and shake above him as you ride out your high. He keeps thrusting into you, words leaving his mouth that only he can hear as he finally cums inside of you, panting and moaning as you both fall over the edge.

Once you finally come down you slump against him. His arms wrap around your middle to hold you there as you let his cock soften inside of you.

You aren’t sure how long you stay in his embrace but when goosebumps rise on your sweaty skin you look up to see him staring at you with fondness in his eyes.

“Fuck that was nice.” He says as you giggle and lift yourself off him so his now soft cock slides out of you.

The usual routine was that Tae would run a bath for you but today you want to switch it up so when you go to the bathroom to get cleaned up you start a bath for the both of you.

You are kneeling down testing the water when he finally comes in and his eyes soften when he sees your setup.

You decided to dim the lights and you lit a couple of your candles casting the room in shadows.

“I thought this was my job?” He jokes as you shake your head and push your body into his, reaching up to kiss him.

“I want this to be for both of us.” You admit as he blushes and you get into the tub first, holding out your hand so he can climb inside as well.

You both settle comfortably, your back up against his chest and he holds you against him and gives you soft kisses to your shoulders.

You sigh at the sensation and lean your head back against his shoulder.

“You’re the best you know. Like the absolute best.” He mutters as his kisses move from your shoulders up to your neck.

“And you're getting hard again.” You tease as you feel his cock harden against your back. This man was insatiable and you loved it.

“I have a very sexy, very wet, very naked girl in my arms what do you expect.” He jokes.

“Well after this how about round two?” You tease as he gasps and kisses your skin with a new fervor.

“I’d like that a lot. We have a lot of lost time to make up for. And I still think I have to remind you who you belong to.” He responds gleefully.

Series Taglist!

@take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d

@m00njinnie

@minghaosimp

@madebyjungkookie

@iammeandmeisiam

@allie-is-a-panda

@marihoneywk

@stayonmars

@xmspurple7x

@coffeedepressionsoup

#Kim Taehyung #taehyung #taehyung smut #bts smut #bts fic #taehyung/reader #taehyungxreader #taehyung fic

[chaosandmarigolds]

Dreamscape

(canon? whats that? we go with vibes in this house. Fem!reader, based off an amazing!! ask....um this is just sadness, I'm sorry.....if you want to add more sadness listen to Chasing Cars (yeah I cry to that song 99% of the time sorry))

One day..

With a grumble, he adjusted to the sudden shift of your body weight, to where you were essentially laying over him, and out of pure habit he wrapped his arm over the small of your back- only for you to whisper a soft ‘sorry’ before standing up all the way. Which caused him to think, it was a Saturday and there weren’t any Ops he had been assigned, so there was no purpose in waking up before the sun. So with a tilt of the head, he moves to sit up, watching as you tug out the duffle bag from the couch.

Maybe when the war is over…

“Love?”

You almost jump as your fiance calls the nickname and you turn around, giving him a little smile, “Good morning.”

Simon gives you a look as he turns on the lamp and watches your mannerisms, the timidness behind every movement, “Wha’s goin on?” A valid question, what had happened was that you and Johnny were assigned to what Price lightly put as a ‘suicide mission,’ and what you didn’t want to happen was for Simon to force then add himself to it- as it would then decrease your chances of survival by that much. So you falter for a moment, trying to avert your gaze. With a panicked breath you motion to the kitchenette, “I’ll make tea! Oh! And let’s use the special type, the one we got from Inida? Yeah! Yeah-”

Of course, the echoed whisper of your name made you stop your walk and you slowly turned to face him, your face downturned, you were an awful lair, you were never sent to integrations because you hated to see people hurt. And it killed you to see him searching for an answer, to see him scared for your sake- and for the great and terrifying Simon Riley…that was saying something.

Once the smoke settles…

“You’re not going.”

“It doesn’t-” You groan and throw your head into your hands, “It doesn’t work like that, you know that.”

“No, you’re not going, ‘ll take the spot,” He was grasping at broken shards of sense because he knew the choice was set in stone that not even a sword made of the purest of intentions couldn’t crack it. “Let me talk to-”

“SIMON.”

You take a sharp breath and look at him from across the room, by that time you were fully dressed, hair tied back, boots laced up. Engangment ring which was supposed to be switched out in less than a week hanging onto your dog tags. It took a moment to find the words but they were able to come after a moment, “There is no talking to Laswell or the Captain, there is no loophole, there is no replacing, there is nothing you can do. I have it covered. I do not need you to come and save me when I can save myself.”

Maybe once we got ourselves picked up…

The silence was stiff, and he then finally relented, slowly walking over to you, tucking the tags into your shirt, voice hushed, “Johnny ‘ll take care of ya.”

“I did…I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know.” He pressed his lip to the crown of your head, “Jus lemme think I can save you from everythin.”

You stay silent, then with a short step you move to allow him to hold you, “You can.”

We can move somewhere far away, within the groves of tranquility …

You give Johnny a dull laugh as you walk down the rusted corridor, his laugh echoing through your earpiece. It was nice, laughing for what felt like the first time in forty or so hours, the mission was not even close to being finished and you were already running on steam. So obviously it was time for some lame jokes, “As much as fireworks sound fun, I don’t think I want that in my wedding.”

“Gah,” He chuckled from his spot, waiting for you to clear the hallway so he could follow, “Ghosty woulda lemme.”

“Oh yeah, Ghost would have loved it,” You return with a bitten-back laugh, and then turn the corner, leading with your gun, eyes looking over the blood splatters on the ground and you then whisper, “Clear.”

Before you could even blink the hiss of a gunshot hissed into your earpiece burning with such a pain you had to rip it out, hand going to your ear.

With a staggering step to catch your balance and blink the tears out of your eyes you were then met with a gun being shoved to the back of your head.

You never thought blinding light could hold such peace.

I would prefer our home to not be the shadows cast by the towering and rickety oaks, rather it be in the sun, lightened by new lives we could live

The carrier came back with supplies, no saved hostage, just two bodies left mangled by the enemy no captain even- the craft had been on autopilot.

A message, a warning left within that metal body.

The silence as the door swung itself open. They had all seen death, they had seen things no human should have seen.

There was something about the sight of their teammates laying tossed on the floor of an aircraft that made Kyle turn away

That made Price need a day before he filed the paperwork.

Something about it ruined Simon.

A large house ideally, so that way we can have as many kids and dogs as we want, something to usher in a new meaning behind our names

Silence is what he use to hold peace in, yet all he could hear when there was silence was the what-ifs, did you scream? Was it quick? Did it hurt? Why didn’t he go? Why did he let it happen?

That day he lost the only people he had loved and it was cursing him, bottles couldn’t cure it, opioids didn’t numb more than he had already been, nothing was saving him. He summed that up by saying maybe he didn’t deserve saving.

A garden, lively with bees and colorful with every flower I can manage to grow,

He couldn’t bring himself to go through your things, he was the next of kin, as for Johnny- all of his things had been shipped back to his family, yours? They sat where you had left them that morning you left, your notebook collecting desk on the coffee table, mug still half-filled with water. Lipstick stain still on his balaclava from the last time he took you out on a proper date.

In a drunken stupor, he grabbed the notebook, for the intention of tossing it away, forcing himself to forget every tiny detail of what was. But something told him to open up the pages, so for a millionth of a second he did, yet the sight of your handwriting which you would jokingly name ‘chicken scratch’ forever ingrained on the pages caused something in him to break all over again.

A porch where we can dance in the moonlight

“Riley.” John seemed shocked by the sight of the former lieutenant on his doorstep, sure he had offered ‘anything’ after the deaths, yet he never expected for Simon to take him up on it. For the first time in two years, for the first time since he had to discharge him, he saw what he thought was a completely sober man before him.

It was taking every ounce of Simon to not just turn away, to say it was a bad idea and run, run away from the emotions, but he was going to this…he had to. “You wanna build a house?”

A library so I can put all of those books you bought me, somewhere we can escape the haunting reality of the past

A year, he and John spent a year of work on the house once Simon found the perfect lot of land not too far out of London. Weekends spent from morning to dusk, John’s kids helping when they were in town and Eliza, John’s wife, coming by with food and to do the painting. The foundation has your name forever printed within it.

All of it sounds so poetic when I scribble them down, but the reality is as long as I have your love I am home

A garden he tended every morning and dusk to make sure they were perfectly planted, large enough to where the neighbors would come by to pick bouquets. He would watch the child run through the stone pathways, wondering what could have been.

The library was filled with novels he swore to collect, writing your name as the owner as he placed them in the rows of the shelving he took careful time carving.

I will love you forever and always, Ghost-boy

“You built a good home,” Kyle had told him, close to ten years after all of it had happened, sitting beside him on the porch. He knew it was probably the only thing that kept him alive this long, so he was thankful for it.

Simon nodded slowly, “Thank you.”

(annnyway, that’s all! Any and all comments, feedback and all that mean so much! Thanks for the ask!! <3)

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #coco's chaos <3 #simon riley fanfic #simon riley x reader #simon riley imagine #cod fluff #simon ghost x reader #cod x you #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost simon riley #simon riley angst #angst

[cupcakeslushie]

Hi as a Donnie fictive i just wanted to say that your abusive Kendratello AU thing is actually the worst thing I've ever seen in my entire life and it makes me feel something visceral and awful down in my very core. There is nothing good about it, even from an angsty standpoint. Thank you for putting it all over the Kendratello tag when i'm just trying to look at cute, creative stuff. That's really awesome.

It is genuinely my least favorite piece of Rise fan content and probably the worst Kendra characterization done by anyone ever. Obviously i'm not telling you to shut it all down, it's your internet corner, do whatever you want with it, but i just had to tell you how much i hate this because it genuinely makes me feel insane.

What makes a person want to create shit like this? It's giving angst for no reason or purpose other than to have angst. It sucks. Fat ass and nuts. Have a blessed day.

Lol this is the funniest thing ever. Can you just imagine being such a stubborn idiot, you put yourself through seeing something you hate over and over and over? Telling yourself there’s no way you could possible escape it, when the block function exists? I certainly can’t imagine being that thick.

I just imagine this child sobbing over their computer, like not knowing how to get away from my shitty AU, so they instead think the best option is to, what? Bully me into stopping? Like I would care about their opinion enough to be like shamed into stopping? What was the point of this ask??? 😂😂😂. What did you think you would accomplish, besides looking like a moron, pitching a fit, that even my little two year old nephew would be embarrassed by. I’m fascinated.

I know there’s no cure for stubborn idiots, but I’ll offer some advice, since you can’t seem to understand how the internet works. Block the tag “kendratello au”, which I put on all of my posts regarding this AU. Or even better, block me completely, cause you irritating. You’ll never have to see your “least favorite Rise fan content” ever again.

Have a shitty day ✌️

#rottmnt #ask slushie #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #kendratello au

[new-revenant]

I am not dead and I have a DPxDC idea to share with you all!

So Ghost King!Danny died died-for reasons I have yet to come up with-and gets reincarnated as one of the BatFamily members. Revolutionary idea I know. But, there’s a catch. It’s not Dick, Jason, Tim, any of the Robins actually, but Danny get’s reincarnated as Cassandra Cain-Wayne. Why did I come up with this you may ask? Because I like Cass. That’s it that is the main reason.

Anyways, Cass doesn’t know or have any awareness of her previous life before being revived by the Lazarus Pit by Lady Shiva. Not even any muscle memories. Which is a good thing since Danny’s muscle memories in fights is a bit like punch kick punch some kind of power punch punch. So a bit after Cass is out of the Pit, the next time she tries to fight crime she is not as good as she used to be, as she’s trying to use her fighting techniques and skills but her brain is telling her to button mash her way through it.

After that Cass tries to train her way back into being a better fighter, with everyone thinking that being killed and immediately being revived the Pit probably just messed with her system in some way.

Cass starts to see some ghosts, mainly animals and shades but Cass mostly brushes it off, and she decides that she can probably use this newfound skill to her advantage when at a crime scene. Cass gets psychically stronger as well, more agile, and she starts to pull pack her punches even more than before so she doesn’t injure anyone too much.

Then someone notices a single, shiny, white hair sticking up from Cass’s roots. But that wasn’t the weird part. It looks like a curved lightning bolt in a way, looking unnatural. Batman finds this a bit odd, and decides it’s best to be safe rather than sorry and brings Cass to all the magic users he can summon to the Watchtower.

Other heroes who wanted to see what was going on were also there, but it’s ultimately Deadman, who managed to tag along to the meeting, who recognized what’s going on. The moment the Batfam entered and Deadman made direct eye contact with Cass, he frantically shouted, “T-THE GHOST KING??? THAT’S who the GHOST KING decided to reincarnated as????”

Needless to say that everyone who heard him was freaking out. That included Cass. All the magic users are like, “Deadman, are you sure?” or “This is bad, what do we do, oh fuck” And Deadman just nods, saying “I mean, I’ve heard from other ghosts that the Ghost King had returned in mortal form, so I kinda just assumed it’s her. She’s definitely ghost some powerful ghost molecules in her tho” Everyone calms down a bit after that, but Cass having some “ghost molecules” in her is concerning.

So now the main quest is figuring out who exactly this Ghost King was, which is the easiest part, and figuring out what happened to him, much harder. All while Cass has an internal and external crisis that she can’t communicate effectively about with bonus powers to worry about. And probably some old ghosts from DP going after her to claim the ghostly throne. Because whether or not they know for 100% sure that she’s the reincarnation of the Ghost King, she’s the most likely candidate.

#danny phantom #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #dpxdc #reincarnated au #in the drafts no more! #jan 5th 2023 #I was brought back from the dead that day and then immediately died #also I don’t really like how I wrote this but the IDEA is what I love so I’m sharing it

[euphorajeon]

'make it right' with jk for the 1k celebration pleeeaaaasssseeee 🫶

light of the morning

— request: jeongguk + make it right - bts

— pairing: jk x f. reader

— genre: fluff, angst

— word count: 2.7k

— warnings/tags: idol!jk, college student!oc, mild angst, they're best friends, insecurities and self-doubt thoughts.

— summary: in the eternal night that seems endless, jeongguk finds his peace in the light of the morning.

— author's note: hi anon! thanks for requesting :) summary is obviously inspired by the lyrics of make it right, which i used as the general inspiration for the story. i hope it doesn't stray too far from what you had in mind, hehe. enjoy!

a continuation of opposite of sun. i suggest to read that first before reading this!

masterlist

‘Jeongguk Takes Over Times Square With a Surprise Performance’

‘Massive Crowd Gathers In Times Square for a Jeongguk Surprise Performance’

‘Jeongguk Surprises Times Square Crowd With a Free Concert’

It’s been a day since Jeongguk’s surprise performance at Times Square, and the media headlines praising his performance just keep flooding in. In the articles, there were no flaws in his performance. Impeccable. Perfect. The media especially highlighted the way his fans only got a 30-minute notice before the performance, yet they were able to fill up the streets of Times Square. They were loud, singing along to his songs word for word, and Jeongguk is so proud.

The praises didn’t only come from online articles, they also came from the radio hosts and interviewers who were lined up in Jeongguk’s schedule today. It’s refreshing to answer questions outside of the usual ‘What’s your favorite food to eat in the US?’ and about his surprise performance instead. Jeongguk is grateful that his manager, Namjoon, scheduled these interviews after the performance instead of before it.

“Do I have any more interviews for today?” Jeongguk asks Namjoon, peeking at the clock on his phone. It’s only a little after seven in the evening. He knows it’s a silly question to ask, already knowing the answer by the look on Namjoon’s face.

“You have two more, actually,” Namjoon answers regardless. “Plus taping for two songs for one of them. I thought you knew this already?”

“Uh, yeah, just making sure.” Jeongguk clears his throat, eyes still on his phone.

“You’ve been checking your phone a lot today. Something wrong?” Namjoon inquires, a worried look replacing the duh one he had on his face earlier.

“No. Everything’s okay.”

Yes, something is very wrong.

It’s been more than a day since he video-called you, a little over a day since his performance at Times Square, and little less than a day since he texted you the YouTube link of said performance. In that time frame, his phone is completely void of any notification from you. No texts, no calls, even no tweets or an Instagram DM. You’ve been totally silent and it’s starting to get on his nerves. Why are you leaving him in the dark?

“You sure? You look like you want to punch someone.”

What he wants is praise from you! No, he doesn’t want it, he needs it. All the flowery words from the media and radio hosts mean nothing if he hasn’t heard one from you. Ever since he started his singing career, your opinion has always been one of the first ones he seeks. Without it, he’s lost. Left wondering whether his performance deserved the accolades, or they were only for his pretty face.

“Jeongguk, we’re here. Put a mask on and smile. You can worry about your best friend later,” Namjoon says the moment the car comes to a stop in the parking lot of a building somewhere in New York. Jeongguk looks at him as he’s getting off the vehicle, confused. His manager throws him a small smile. “Don’t look like that, it’s kinda obvious you’re thinking about her.”

“I haven’t heard from her since yesterday, hyung,” Jeongguk sighs. “I have the right to be worried.”

“You’re not the only one with stuff to do, you know? Maybe she’s busy too. I’m sure she’s fine,” Namjoon tries to reassure him. “Give her a call after this, to ease your mind.”

Namjoon is right. You’re probably busy juggling midterms and your part-time job back home. The chasm he felt yesterday opens back up, gaping to remind him that you two are worlds apart. Superstar Jeongguk who replies to texts in seven business days has no right demanding a reply from a regular college student after only one day.

Two more interviews. Two more songs to perform. Then he can hear your voice, see your face, and everything is going to be okay again.

Jeongguk finishes his schedule for the day a little after 1 AM. He tries to call you in the car, on the way back to his hotel. No answer. Tries again when he reaches his hotel room. Then tries again after he showered and changed into comfortable clothes to sleep in.

Ten missed calls.

Jeongguk goes to sleep with a dark cloud in his mind, completely restless.

In the morning, when the sun is already up—the way the moon is in Seoul, where you are—Jeongguk cracks his eyes open to stare at the ceiling in his room, his heart still heavy with worry. Also heavy is his head when he sits up on his huge hotel bed, likely due to his tossing and turning in his sleep all night. It doesn’t help that his lockscreen is still void of notifications labeled with your name. You’ve been MIA for almost two full days. Where are you?

He sends seven more bubbles in your chatroom, a sigh slipping past his lips when the tiny word under the blue bubble only reads delivered. He’s on his last thread of hope when he clicks on your contact picture to video call you, and that thread snaps when all he’s staring at on the screen is his own puffy and tired face.

Maybe he should order some breakfast. Get something to munch on, pry his mind away from the thought of you and what you’re up to in a country far, far away from where he is. He hopes you’re okay. He hopes you aced that midterm you were up until three to study for (although you spent the good part of the last hour talking to him on FaceTime). He hopes you’re eating well and not some instant cup ramyeon or shitty take-out from the Chinese place by your apartment that you frequent because it’s cheap.

After skimming through the room service menu, Jeongguk places an order of breakfast enough to feed five people. (What? He needs his energy. And a distraction.) The kind hotel staff who took his order informed him that his food will be ready in around 20 minutes. Good. Plenty of time to track his schedule for today and not think about you. (So much for a distraction.)

As it turns out, his itinerary for today is not packed with work schedule. Namjoon had only written ‘Explore’ along with a note to bring the camera noona who usually follows Jeongguk around to film all of his adventures as an idol. Said “adventure” is typically limited to dressing rooms of music shows, though. Oh, maybe Namjoon wants him to stroll around the city and make a vlog out of it, give his fans a little peek of what he does in his down time in New York.

In order to do that, he has to shower, get dressed, and maybe get his makeup done. He definitely needs to get his hair done, though, there’s no way he’s going out with this bird nest atop his head. Or maybe he could go natural, let his hair breathe for the day. Namjoon said it makes him look like a college boyfriend, and apparently, his fans love the look. Throw some hoodie and jeans on, and Jeongguk would be ready to go to class with you.

Ah, you again.

His mindless scrolling on Twitter in procrastination halts, the words on his phone not registering as his mind goes back to you. What would it feel like to go to class with you? To watch your focused face in class, trying to absorb knowledge from the professor? To be there next to you, answer your question whenever you struggle to grasp a concept? To be your college boy—

A knock on his door interrupts his thoughts.

Jeongguk stills, waits for the shout of room service! to follow, but it never comes. The clock on his phone tells him it’s only been 10 minutes since he ordered breakfast, so maybe it’s not room service after all. Maybe it’s a staff member, coming to tell him to get ready for the day.

As Jeongguk makes his way to the door, come some more knocks, this time more tentative than the one prior. Before he could reach the door, the person on the other side speaks.

“Jeongguk..?” It sounds muffled by the door, but the voice rings familiar in his ears. It’s the voice he last heard almost two days ago, via a video call connection between New York and Seoul. Could it be? No, it couldn’t … right?

Jeongguk’s eyes are right in front of the peephole just as the voice sounds again: “It’s me, Bun…”

There, in front of his hotel door, stands a girl 15 centimeters shorter than him, dressed in black jeans and her favorite sage green sweater, with a lump of black fabric hanging off her left arm. A faded black baseball cap sits on her head, so faded it looks almost navy. When she finally looks up to peek at the peephole, Jeongguk loses his breath.

It’s you. It’s really you.

Jeongguk is so stunned that he’s frozen in place, just staring at your confused expression that slowly morphs into one of anxiety.

“Did Namjoon give me the wrong room number..?” you mumble, fishing your phone out of your pocket.

Jeongguk has never yanked a door open that hard in his life.

You tear your eyes away from your phone, jumping in surprise at the sudden movement. His eyes lock with yours, and the shock on your face melts into a smile.

“Hi!”

You’re obviously exhausted, having just got off a 14-hour flight from Seoul, moving 13 timezones backward, seeing the sun when you’re supposed to see the moon. But the way you beam at him is full of glee, your eyes bright despite the obvious fatigue. Jeongguk is mesmerized.

Wordlessly, he reaches for your shoulders to pull you into a hug. They feel more prominent than the last time he hugged you, and he doesn’t know whether it’s from your haphazard eating schedule or just … time. He doesn’t remember when he last gave you a hug. Doesn’t remember the last time he saw you in the flesh like this.

“You just woke up, didn’t you?” you say from somewhere near his collarbone.

“Maybe,” Jeongguk mumbles. “Maybe not. I feel like I’m still dreaming.”

“Up in the clouds, are we?” you chuckle. “Well, if you’re done dreaming then maybe we could come in? Backpack’s starting to hurt my shoulders.”

It’s right at that second that Jeongguk just realizes the huge backpack hanging off your small frame. The poor bag is bursting at the seams, like it’s gonna comically explode if you even try to unzip it. Jeongguk closes his fingers around the small handle on top, testing the weight.

“Did you fit your whole life into this? Why is it so heavy?” he complains, immediately untangling your arms from his body so he can slide the backpack off you and onto him instead. “I feel like I’m about to do the 20 kilometers march in the military.”

“Hah! Try navigating JFK with that on your shoulders. It’s way harder than the military,” you huff, following Jeongguk into his hotel room.

He sets your backpack down on one of the couches, turning around to get answers to a thousand questions in his head, but pauses when he sees you’re still standing by the door. Your eyes are scanning the room slowly, stopping at Jeongguk to look at him with an unreadable expression on your face.

“What?” Jeongguk says.

“It’s huge,” you say. “The room, I mean. They usually are in your vlogs, but it’s different seeing it in person.”

This could turn into another conversation about their differences quickly, but Jeongguk is not in the mood to deal with distance today. For once, you’re an arms-length away from him. He doesn’t want to fuck this up and send you back to KST, 13 timezones away.

“Eh, I think your backpack is bigger.” He shrugs. Safe route, for now. “What do you have inside that bag, really?”

“My brick ass laptop, thank you,” you say sarcastically, finally going deeper into the room just to give your backpack a protective hug. “Still have a midterm to finish and submit here.”

“You still have midterms and you’re here in New York?” Jeongguk gapes. “Why?”

“Because you asked me to be here,” you state like it’s obvious. “Well, not like that, but you looked so sad on our last video call that I booked a flight here as soon as we hung up the call. Didn’t really realize the weight of it until I was watching your performance with Yeseo and I blurted out that I bought a ticket to New York and how maybe it was a stupid thing to do on a whim like that. She looked at me like I was stupid and said I should totally go. So. Here I am.”

If selective hearing is a sin, then Jeongguk would be guilty because he heard nothing beyond the part where you said you were watching his performance.

“You watched my performance?” He parrots his thoughts. “But you said you would have been asleep…”

“No sleep is worth my best friend’s sadness.” You throw him a small smile. “Actually, Yeseo set an alarm for it. And then I went to have the midterm with a terrible headache because I didn’t get enough sleep. But it’s worth it, the performance was amazing. You did great on that stage.”

“I did great…?”

At this point, Jeon Jeongguk should change his name to Parrot Jeongguk, because all he ever does is just repeat things he heard. First his thoughts, now you.

“Yes, of course you did great, Jeongguk. Wasn’t it obvious, the way your fans were screaming their lungs out for you?”

I only wanted to hear it from you, Jeongguk thinks. The media headlines and praises from the radio hosts and interviewers flash in his mind, all positive feedback for his performance, yet still planted a seed of doubt in his mind. It caused an ugly darkness to settle in his mind, one that worsened with every call you didn’t pick up.

“Why’d you ghost me, then?”

Way to ruin this moment, Jeon Jeongguk.

“I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry. Between catching up on sleep and rushing for the flight, I just didn’t have the time to look at my phone at all. Also, I was on the plane? It takes a long time to get here from Korea if you didn’t know.”

“So it’s not because my performance is bad?”

You get up from your position on the couch to grip him on the shoulders, your nails digging into the material of his t-shirt. You have to strain your neck to be able to look him in the eyes, but you hold his gaze firmly like the position doesn’t hurt you at all.

“Jeon Jeongguk, listen to me. Your performance was great, you looked handsome, your singing was on-point, your high note was awesome, your dancing was super cool, and the crowd was really loud. I don’t know what kind of validation you seek, but I personally think everything about your performance was perfect.”

Yours. I only want your validation.

Slowly, the darkness in his mind begins to disperse, replaced by this warm beam of light piercing through the clouds. It settles in his mind like a blanket, protecting him from any more bad thoughts. He thinks it’s because of you, bringing light wherever you go. Can that light be shared with him? Will he glow from the inside out if he connects his lips with yours? Why does he want to lock lips with you?

“Jeongguk, are you okay? You look like you’re floating in the clouds again.”

Yeah. No. I want to press my lips against yours. Can I?

Three knocks sound from the door. And then: room service!

Jeongguk clears his throat (and his mind along with it.)

“Do you want to explore New York with me after we have breakfast?”

Jeongguk might want more, and he might be ready to admit it. After all, the light to his darkness is here. If not now, then when?

“Sure, it’ll be a fun best friend adventure!”

…maybe some other time.

a/n: thank you for reading! i'm planning to have a part 3 of this but let's see if i can actually find the time to write it ahah

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