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#finally the turn tables .... she's getting MY second hand clothes
dfortrafalgar · 2 days
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I'm Losing You... (But We're Filling the Cracks)
Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem. But sometimes, you just need a little bit of love... and a little bit of science.
Warnings: read chapter 1 for warnings.
Taglist: @phsycochan | @mirillua | @augustanna | @chaixsherlock | @whore-of-many-hot-men | @nerdisthenewcool | @lilypadmomentum | @1dkneo
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Chapter 27
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“How was the drive over?”  Nico Robin had one of her long legs crossed over the other, her laptop on the short counter in front of her as she typed notes into your patient portal.
You tossed her a smile.  “Not bad, the seatbelt in my car feels really strange the bigger I get, but I’m just happy I can still drive for the time being.”
The blue-eyed woman nodded before turning to face you.  “Based on your 18 week ultrasound, your babies have a heart rate of about 120 beats per minute, which is in the perfectly normal range during this gestational period.  Their amniotic fluid levels are also normal.  Overall, I’m really pleased with how healthy they are.  You’re a few weeks into your second trimester now, have you noticed any significant changes?  Any symptoms we should be concerned about?”
It took you a few moments to think.  “Well, my skin is really itchy and my back really hurts.  My breasts have days where they’re really tender and days when they’re not.  My feet hurt sometimes,” you rattled.
Dr. Robin nodded understandingly across from you.  “As strange as it is for me to say, hearing that you have normal symptoms of pregnancy makes me incredibly happy.  Along with your bloodwork that has been consistently normal and your ultrasound from last week, I am incredibly pleased with your progress and the growth of your babies.”  She pulled on a pair of rubber medical gloves and wheeled her stool over to your bed where you placed your feet on the stirrups for your wellness check.
“I am too,” you replied with a broad grin, your hand going to rest over your swollen belly as you reclined on the table, staring at the ceiling as Robin poked around and examined your condition.  “I’d much rather have symptoms and know that everything is alright rather than nothing at all.”
“Of course, of course,” your doctor agreed, nodding her head affirmatively.  She flashed you a cheeky smile from in between your legs.  “Are you positive you don’t want to know the genders?”
Your hands braced themselves against the side of the bed you sat on as your shoulders bounced with the force of your laugh.  “Don’t tempt me!  I’ve been doing so well wanting to keep it a surprise!”
Your reaction made Robin laugh as she removed her gloves and marked a few final notes in her patient chart for you.  “Well, if everything seems to be going normal then I’ll be seeing you again in another few weeks!  But you know the drill, call me back immediately if you notice any changes or concerns.”
She helped you down from the table and you slipped into your clothes and shoes, following her to the front desk to receive your patient summary for the visit, along with scheduling your next check-up and ultrasound.
The weather had gotten absolutely stifling in the late summer days, and partnered with your ever-expanding womb, you were finding yourself more and more sweaty hauling around an extra few pounds during the horrendous heat.  With your air conditioner blasting, you drove back home to spend the remainder of your day in the cool comfort of your apartment.  You couldn’t even imagine how Bepo must have been feeling, all of that thick, fluffy white fur must have been suffocating for him during the summer months.  You could barely get him to go outside during the daylight hours, but in the winter months, you needed to go through hell and back to get him inside.  The thought of your pup at home made you smile as you pulled out of the parking lot and hit the road back home.  He had become so much more attentive toward you recently, almost serving as your guard dog.  Even when Shachi and Penguin came over, despite knowing who the two men were, Bepo would stand guard in front of you and refused to let anyone pass.  His keen doggie instincts definitely knew there was something different about you.
It didn’t take long for you to get home, the traffic was incredibly minimal.  What you wouldn’t give to be at the beach on a day like this, soak up some sun… with your pregnant belly on full display.  The thought made you smile, blood rushing to your face.  Law probably would take a minor issue with that.  ‘I don’t want any other man tossing looks at you,’ he’d probably gripe.  You chuckled to yourself as you turned down the road your apartment was on.  Like Bepo, Law had also become much, much more protective of you.  When he could help it, he refused to miss any update or appointment, staying by your side constantly.  You thought maybe you’d get tired of it, but if anything, it made you feel even better about your relationship.
Knowing that Law had no plans on leaving you after you gave birth, loving you in and out of pregnancy, made your heart flutter.
You grabbed your bag and exited your car, locking it behind you as you walked through the stifling humidity into your building, up the elevator, and onto your floor.  You slipped your key into the lock and pushed open your door, calling out to Bepo who snorted from the other room.  You kicked off your shoes, hung your bag on a hook by the door, and proceeded to the living room where you could finally put your feet up on the couch.  You grabbed your journal off of the counter on the way.  You’d been so good keeping up with it, almost obsessively so.  A few weeks ago, Ikkaku had told you about a similar journal that her mother had kept, and how nice it would be to have your kids eventually read it when they grew up.
That sentiment made you fill out entire paragraphs on some of the pages, a permanent smile plastered on your lips as you wrote.
Bepo stood from his bed when you sat on the couch and immediately laid down directly beside you, ears perked up and constantly on alert should anyone come through the door.  You reached down and carded your fingers through the thick fur between his ears, watching with a giggle as his eyes slowly drifted closed and his pink tongue slipped through his muzzle.
“Are you blepping?” you asked.
The dog snorted.
You were periodically checking your phone throughout the afternoon.  Law had another fairly large procedure today, a Transmyocardial Revascularization, which involved some technology that he didn’t frequently use in the operating room.  When he left your apartment that morning, he was already laser focused, reading through his notes and charts while he scarfed down his breakfast.  He only broke composure enough to give you a kiss in the doorway, his hand ghosting over the side of your belly before he left.  You were hoping he would text you when the procedure was done, but at the same time were completely understanding if you didn’t hear from him until he got home.  Sometimes, he got so swallowed up by his work that he forgot he even existed.
A sudden fluttering sensation from your abdomen almost made you drop your phone.  You sat up, startled, your hands flying to your belly, pressing against your skin.  The suddenness of your movements made Bepo stand up as well, staring at the door expecting someone to walk in.
Your heart was pounding in your chest, your mind immediately assuming the worst.  You weren’t in pain, you hadn’t been spotting, everything had been completely normal.
You felt it again, this time against your hands.  A quick flutter within your gut immediately followed by a shallow, quick rippling sensation against the muscles of your abdomen.  You felt it in the palm of your hand.  Near the other side, the same thing happened.
They were moving.  Your twins were moving.
You stood up, startling Bepo who stared at you confused and alert.  You gazed down at your dog dumbly.  “They’re moving.”
He tilted his head as you spoke to him.
“I don’t know why I stood up,” you blurted, sitting back down with your hands flush against the couch cushions.  A giddy, childlike grin crawled to your lips.  They were moving.  They were moving.
It took about another three hours for Law to get home, and while you waited you had been so overcoming with energy thanks to the excitement of feeling your babies fluttering that you vacuumed your entire apartment, cooked a pavlova with the leftover berries in your fridge, and deep-cleaned the inside of the oven.  When your husband finally walked into the entryway and called your name, you almost sprinted to meet him, skidding across the floor in your socks.
“Hey, babe–” 
You cut him off swiftly, grabbing his hand and holding it against your belly.  You stared down at his inked fingers as they relaxed over your bump, his lips sealed.
“Come on…” you uttered.  “Do it again…”  It was a longshot, but you hoped that somehow they could hear you.
The fluttering sensation bounced around your abdomen once more, followed by the ripple against your muscle.  Law jerked his hand away from your skin, almost like he was forced to touch manure without gloves.  His golden eyes were boggling out of his head, his jaw slack and cheeks flushed.
“Was that…?” he stuttered out, words escaping him.
“They started moving!” you cheered, throwing yourself into him, bubbly laughter escaping your throat.  
Law was quick to wrap his arms around you once his shock subsided, clutching you to his chest.  His own broad smile was on his face as his chest bounced with your giddy laughter.  “So I take it your appointment today went well?”
You pulled away from his embrace, excitement coursing through your veins so rapidly that the only thing your body told you to do was grip your husband’s cheeks and press a tender kiss against his lips.  He muffled a surprise grunt against your mouth before his hands found purchase on your hips, slightly dipping you backward and ghosting his teeth against your puffy lower lip.
“Sorry,” you all but whispered, barely pulling away from him.  “I think I got the zoomies.”
He quickly turned his head away to snort at your words.  “The baby-kicking zoomies?”
“I made pavlova,” you sighed.  “That’s how excited I got.”
Your husband pressed another hot kiss against your lips before kicking off his shoes and taking your hand to bring him to the kitchen.  “Looks like our dinner is pavlova.  Not that I’m complaining.”
As soon as you stepped back into the main living area, Bepo was at your feet, nuzzling your legs and sticking his nose into your butt.  No matter how many times you shooed him away, he came right back, tongue peeking through his muzzle and beady black eyes melting your heart into oblivion.  And now, Law was following the dog’s example.  You served slices of your light desert onto two plates for the both of you, following Law to the couch where he proceeded to rest a hand against your belly throughout eating the sweet treat.  And while watching the television… and while you washed the dishes… and while you showered… and while you curled up next to him under the covers to sleep.
“Am I going to have to follow you to work now?  So you don’t miss a kick?” you asked over your shoulder, adjusting your body so you could press further into your husband’s chest with your back.
His hand lazily stroked up and down your side as he pressed light kisses to the back of your head.  “Maybe.  … Probably.”
“I won’t be very good in the operating room,” you laughed quietly into the darkness.
“Oh, that reminds me.  I forgot to tell you something with all the excitement.”  You felt Law push away from you slightly, giving you enough room to roll over and face him.
“What’s up?” you asked, curiously.  Your eyes couldn’t quite see his face, but his hand on your waist kept you glued to him nonetheless.  
“The biggest surgery of my life got scheduled today,” he said.  “A heart-lung transplant.”
You bolted upright in bed, reaching over for the lamp next to your pillow and pulling down on the power chord, illuminating your small corner of the room.  Your eyes were wide.  “Are you serious?”
With disheveled hair, Law sat up as well, hunching his back to rest his elbows on his knees.  “Yup.  Early May.”
“Holy shit,” you uttered.  “I… didn’t even know that was possible.”
Law nodded.  “The man has been in the ICU for almost an entire year now.  Every treatment option has been exhausted for both his heart and lungs.  Stents, catheters, bypass surgeries, blood-thinners, every available diagnostic test for pulmonary failure has been tried and done.  He’s approaching end-stage heart and lung failure and has been intubated for quite some time, and he recently got approved for transplant from the donor board.”
You absorbed his words with awe.  “That’s a lot… poor guy.”
Your husband hummed.  “It’s tough, but we all think this surgery will be the ultimate best thing for him.  He’s got AB+ blood which is incredibly lucky for him, and a donor has been selected based on cardiopulmonary quality.”  He glanced at you and could tell based on the slightly grim look on your face that you were curious where they even got the heart and lungs from.  “Organs are usually harvested from people who have suffered from brain injuries.  If they established prior to illness or injury that they would like to be a living tissue donor, then if they suffer brain death, they can be eligible for organ donation.  I’m not familiar with the donor right now, but I assume that’s the case for them.”
Your heart clenched at the thought.  “Wow…”
Law scooted closer to you and rubbed your back.  “It’s tough medicine, but someone’s sacrifice might be able to save the life of another.”
A smile pulled to your lips before you realized something.  “Wait…”
“What’s wrong?” he asked, eyebrows furrowing in concern.
“May 22nd is my due date,” you stated.  “Not that I’m telling you to not do the surgery, obviously, but… what if…”
“You go into labor while I’m in the operating room?” he asked, finishing your sentence for you.  “The entire procedure, if it still happens when scheduled, might be anywhere from 12 to 16 hours.  So I guess we’ll just have to hope that you don’t go into labor on that day.”
“That’s a long time… are you going to be alright?” you asked, leaning into his touch, your voice filled with worry.
Law smiled.  “Don’t worry about me.  You remember my sleep schedule in college, I’ll be fine.”
You grinned.  “Just don’t start drinking energy drinks again, I don’t want your kidneys to give out in the OR.”
Your statement made Law laugh as he reached over you and pulled the cord on the lamp once more, plunging the room back into darkness.  “I promise I won’t, that shit’s nasty anyway.  We can talk about it more in the morning and when it gets closer, though.”
The comfortable darkness filled the room as you snuggled into your husband’s arms.  “Sounds good, baby.”
A kiss to the skin of your forehead was the last sensation you felt before drifting off into a peaceful slumber.
“Okay, I know you guys said you didn’t want us to go crazy, but we went a little crazy.”
You and Law were seated on your loveseat across from Ikkaku, Shachi, and Penguin, who sat behind a plethora (read: a metric ton compared to the total volume of your apartment) of bags and boxes.  Ikkaku began rifling through some of the bags at her feet, grumbling about a list she had written down of your coworkers and what they had chipped in with.
Law was dumbfounded, his eyes wide and incredibly confused.  You felt a small kick in your belly, prompting you to sooth your bump with your hand.  You were about 24 weeks now, and your home wardrobe had largely consisted of Law’s oversized sweatshirts to account for your very pronounced abdomen.
Penguin clapped his hands.  “So, we didn’t want the lovely couple to get themselves worried about getting all their baby gear, so in these two boxes,” he interrupted his words to violently slap the unlabeled cardboard next to the armrest on his side of the couch, “are the cribs.  Two of them.  You know, for two babies.”
“And in these boxes,” Shachi kicked two more unlabeled boxes with his foot, “are bedspread sets for the crib mattresses.”
“Oh, shit, we still need the mattresses,” Penguin gasped, slapping Shachi’s shoulder making the red-head wince.
“Don’t they come with the mattresses already?” Shachi replied, rubbing his arm.
“I found it!” Ikkaku hollered, pulling out a double-sided sheet of loose-leaf paper.  “Okay, everyone from the office went behind your back and got a bunch of stuff for you.”  She cleared her throat and passed you a large holiday-themed gift bag, which you leaned forward to grab by the string handles and pull to rest in your lap.  “That one is from Nami.  She went kind of crazy with getting clothes, I told her to keep them gender neutral since you guys don’t know the sexes yet, but a lot of them are feminine anyway, so… let’s hope for girls.”
Law leaned over to peer into the large bag as you picked through it.  ‘Crazy’ was an understatement.  Nami had seemingly given you an entire wardrobe for the first year of your babies’ lives.  Onesies, shirts, pants, a bunch of bundles of newborn socks, little hats, headbands, swaddles with different patterns, mittens, and two winter coats that would fit them up to six months.  There was more beneath the initial assortment you sifted through.
“This entire bag is from only Nami?” you asked, completely bewildered.
“Well, Nami and Nojiko,” Ikkaku responded, skimming her list.  “Oh, there should be a small bottle of newborn laundry detergent in there, too.  Just F-Y-I.”
“Okay, so the cribs do in fact come with mattresses.  You just have to let them rise like bread for 24 hours before putting them in the cribs.  They should be firm,” Penguin explained, scrolling through his phone.
You cringed at the mention of bread.  You still hadn’t gotten your tolerance for the texture back.
“This next one is from Sanji and Zoro, but mostly Sanji.  He got you a set of baby monitors, two mobiles for each crib, and a diaper changing table.”  Ikkaku slid another box towards your feet.  The top of it was labeled with elegant handwriting that read, ‘TO THE LOVELY COUPLE~’.
Shachi dragged over another box.  “This is a double stroller.  All assembly required.”
“This bag is from Usopp, I think it’s a bunch of baby hygiene products.  Baby powder, light wipes, a few bags of diapers to get you started, some diaper station pads, little washcloths and towels, diaper cream, the works.”  Following her words, yet another bag was slid over to you, this time snatched by Law.
“Diapers are expensive,” he mumbled.  “How did everyone pull all of this together?”
Ikkaku shrugged.  “Sanji and Nami are well-off.  Usopp?  No idea.”  She dismissively looked back at her list.  “Oh, this next one’s from Ms. Boa.  I can’t remember what she put in it, though.”
Another box was kicked over your way, already open slightly for you to rifle through.  It was completely filled to the brim with everything you would need for breastfeeding.  Two breast pumps, a large volume of milk storage bags, nursing pads, and a few tubes of nipple cream.  At the bottom of the box, there was a variety of decorative bibs, a few baby bottles, a bottle warmer, and a specialized bottle sterilizer.  Your head was whirling.
“Guys, you’re making me dizzy,” you practically wheezed, leaning back against the couch.  Law rubbed your shoulder reassuringly.
“We’re almost done,” Shachi stated.  He picked up a bag next to Ikkaku’s shoe.  “Oh, I forgot.  This one’s from Rebecca.”
Law picked his head up.  “My head nurse?”
“Is that who that is?” Shachi asked, sliding over the bag.
“How did you get her number?” the surgeon asked, picking up the package and opening it.
“The hospital has a database with contact info.  You should tell them to update your picture, by the way.  You look dead in your current headshot.”  Penguin’s backhanded comment made you snort.
The gift from Rebecca was exactly what you would expect from a cardiology nurse.  A thermometer, a pair of baby nail clippers, petroleum jelly, a few rolls of sterile gauze, a first aid kit, an assortment of pacifiers, and a few baby toothbrushes.  He felt himself smile.  She had always been a caring, generous person.  While he was still a bit perturbed by the whole hospital database thing, it came as no surprise to him that Rebecca would be so generous as to provide gifts for her superior and his expectant wife.
“This is the last one I think,” Ikkaku mumbled, dragging over another box with her foot.  “Oh, this one’s from Luffy and his brothers!”
This time, both you and Law perked up.
“Luffy?” you asked.  “I haven’t seen him in, like, three years.”
“Where’d he even go, anyway?” Law asked.  “I lost track of him after a while.”
Ikkaku laughed, pushing the box toward you.  “Sanji told me something about his grandfather trying to force the three of them to join the military.  I think they moved somewhere just to get away from the hustle and bustle for a bit, but also to get away from that marine grandpa of theirs.”
“What was his name again?” Shachi asked.
“Garp, I think.  Isn’t there a picture of his face on that marine recruitment poster they keep hanging at the local community college?” Penguin queried.
“That’s right.”  Shachi snapped his fingers.  “I never liked that guy.”
You leaned over as far as you could manage with your belly to open the box from Luffy and his two older brothers.  On top of the packing, which was surprisingly well-done (probably not by Luffy), was a hand-written letter.
To the happy couple, Congratulations on your pregnancy!  It’s been so long since we’ve all gotten together, but I’m so glad to hear you’re both doing well.  At some point we’ll all reconnect, I’m sure Ace and Luffy would love to get to romp around with some toddlers, but at the same time, I would completely understand if you wanted anything but that.  Regardless, I hope this box of goodies finds you well.  Best of luck during the rest of your pregnancy!
From, Sabo (who wrote all of this, by the way), Ace, and Luffy
Beneath the newsprint used as packing material, a large collection of toys was compiled for the two of you to pick through.  A rolled up playmat, some teething toys, an assortment of cardboard baby books, some of which were medical themed, a portable pack-and-play, a generous bunch of baby toys for both the home and a stroller, and a few toy organizers.  It was assumed by everyone in the room that Sabo was the one responsible for picking everything out.  The other two most likely trailed behind and poked each other with toys from the children’s section of the local supermarket.  Regardless, the sentiment was appreciated.  A fond smile crawled onto your lips as you scooped up one of the toys from the box.  It was a sturdy stuffed white dog with floppy ears and a pink tongue.
“Bepo,” you called, beckoning your fur baby over.  “It’s you!”
Law grinned at the display, but quickly hid his face at the mischievous cooing noises his best friends were making from across the room.  Bepo was excitedly sniffing the nose of the dog toy before you plopped it back into the box to save for later.
“What’s the plan for you guys in terms of crib placement?” Ikkaku asked, cleaning up the space around her.
You and your husband glanced at each other.  You hadn’t actually thought about it much until then.  While your apartment was technically a two bed-one bath, the second bedroom was substantially smaller and filled with storage that the two of you always insisted you would one day tackle, but never did.  It became a closet forbidden for life, until now, that is.
“I think we’re going to clean out the second bedroom and use that,” Law answered for the two of you.  “That won’t be for a few more months, though.”
“Better get on it soon,” Shachi chided.  “Those little munchkins will be here before you know it!”
You grinned, tossing a glance at Law as he pinched the bridge of his nose in between his fingers.  You turned back to your friends across from you.  “Thank you guys for bringing everything over, though, I really appreciate it!  We both do.”
“Of course!” Ikkaku piped up before the other two could speak.  “I didn’t know when your maternity leave was going to start, so I wanted to make sure you got everything now.”
“A few more weeks,” you confirmed.  “But I’m glad to have all of this stuff so early, then we won’t have to stress when it gets closer to the due date.”
“Do you plan on breastfeeding?” Shachi asked suddenly.
“Shut it, Shachi,” Law barked.  “You just spoiled us.  Don’t test it now.”
The exchange made you laugh, Law seeming to smolder in the direction of his rowdy friends.  Your laughing seemed to trigger something in your babies, too, as you felt two simultaneous flutters in your belly.
You liked making them laugh.
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The Scare
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x gf!reader
Word count: 1.2K
Warnings: Angst (ooooo, my first time writing angst), comfort, break in, attempted kidnapping, simon in ghost mode, graves being a pussy, simon being a good bf
Summary: You thought it was Simon, he had come home early from his mission, but there were 2 pairs of footsteps walking around your home.
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Everyone knew Lieutenant Riley was cold. He was ruthless, cruel, heartless, and so much more. 
But there was one thing that made him soft. One person. 
You. 
Barely anyone knew that the Lieutenant had picked himself up a hot little thing and managed to keep her. The two of you had been together for 3 years now and he was so close to proposing. He was ready to spend his life with you. He was ready to make you his and give you his last name. 
But what happens when someone who shouldn’t know about you finds out about you?
***
Graves knew. Somehow he knew. He mentioned your name to Simon, “Ghost, that is not nice. How would your pretty little (Y/N) think of that?”
Simon shivered. 
And then he realised. 
Graves was coming for you.
***
You were curled up in bed, music playing in the background as you read one of your favourite romance books Simon had bought you. The lights were off, a single three-wick Bath and Body Works candle on your bedside table. It was peaceful. Cosy. 
You were on the 15th chapter before you head footsteps and your front door opening. 
Simon isn’t supposed to be home yet.
You check your phone. 
Simon would’ve messaged if he was coming home.
There was no message. And he wouldn’t surprise you like this. 
You sit up, turning off the music. The footsteps are doubled. There’s two people. 
Simon wouldn’t come home with someone else. This wasn’t Simon walking around your apartment. 
With trembling hands, you reach for Simon’s hidden knife, concealed under his side of the bed. You clutch in it a sweaty palm, silent praying that the person walking around your apartment is a friend, not a foe. The footsteps get closer. You take a deep breath.
The doorknob jiggles. Your anxiety skyrockets. There’s murmurs before a foot hits the door. 
1 kick…
2 kicks…
3 kicks before the door finally busts open, shattering the lock. 2 men, dressed in black military uniform, hold up their guns to aim for your head. You suck in a breath. 
“That her?” The first man asks. 
“Think so. She fits the description,” the other one responds.
You shiver. They barely acknowledge you as they speak. 
One of them steps closer to you, reaching for the knife in your hand. You strike, stabbing his wrist through the jacket he wears. He yells, “Bitch stabbed me!”
He pushes you, reaching down to grab his wrist, pulling out the knife. The other one walks over while you’re distracted, talking a hold of your arms and tying them behind your back. You yell before you hear the sound of duct tape ripping. Within seconds, there’s a piece over your mouth. You try to yell. No use.
They begin to speak to each other fast, so fast you can barely catch their words. 
Help me…
The one you stabbed wraps up his wrist with a cloth, before picking up your legs. The other picks up your torso. 
You thrash around in their arms, trying to get free as you kick the one you stabbed, He holds your feet together with one hand, barking out a quick, “Stop it!”
He has an American accent, you notice. They carry you out of your bedroom as you continue to thrash around. They almost make it to the front door. 
But the door is wide open. And in the door frame stands a tree of a man, face covered by a mask of a skull. 
Simon…
Your eyes fill with tears of joy. 
Simon’s eyes are as dark as the night as he stares at the scene. 
The men immediately drop you, making you hit your head on the floor, a cry of pain dropping from your lips. Your vision goes blurry as you hear Simon step closer, fists clenched. 
You roll over onto your side, trying to get your hands out of their bonds, trying to grab your head to ease the pain. You suck in a sharp breath. Your vision stays blurry, barely making out the black blobs fighting in front of you. 
From the blobs you see, the one with the mask is bigger. And he’s winning. 
You think… 
One of the men drop down next to you, a new red blob on the ground making it’s way into your vision. You count to fifteen before the other man drops down too. 
You count to eight before you feel a hand pull the duct tape off your mouth. You let out a loud sob of relief. Simon…
He unties your wrists, gently massaging them as you roll over again, grabbing your head. You close your eyes as you let out cries of pain. 
It hurts. Your wrists hurt. Your mouth hurts. 
But the pain in your head is indescribable. It shoots from the back to the front, meeting at the centre of your forehead. It shoots back. And then back to the front again. And back again. And front again. And over and over. 
You can barely hear your cries anymore over the feeling of pain. 
A pair of arms pick you up bridal style, as if you weigh nothing. The black blob holding you takes you to the bedroom, setting you down on the bed. The blob walks away again. 
You count to thirty before it-he-returns, holding an ice pack, a glass of water, and a few advil pills. He sits on the edge of the bed, setting down the items. 
He takes off his mask, vest, gear, and everything else until nothing remains but a shirt and his tactical pants. Simon tips up your chin, placing one of the pills on your tongue, pushing it back with some water. “Swallow.”
You do as he says. 
A deep exhale leaves your body. 
He presses the ice pack to your head. “How bad is i’? Do I need to call a’ ambulance?” 
“N-no…” you blink back tears.
“You sure, lovie? ‘t was a bad fall,” he sighs, smiling sadly at you. “‘m so sorry ‘is happened to ya. Ya are the most important thin’ to me and Graves, bitch that ‘e is, took advantage of tha’. Soap and Gaz ‘re in the kitchen, gettin’ rid of the garbage. Tol’ them not to come in ‘ere. Ya need rest, okay? Bu’ don’ fall ‘sleep, ya migh’ have a concussion.” 
You nod to the best of your ability. He takes a hold of your hand, kissing your wrist. “‘M so so so sorry. Ya didn’ deserve ‘hat, okay? Ya so perfec’ and special to me…”
He looks down at the bloody knife on the ground.
“Ya try to protec’ yourself?” You nod in response to his words. “Good girl. Ya atleas’ did some damage…slowed them down enough jus’ in time for me to get ‘ere.” 
“Ho-how did you know I w-was in…” you don’t bother to finish your sentence. 
“Graves sai’ ya name to me. I took a guess ‘e was gone go for ya. Rushed here with the other three. They gone go on the mission without me. Need to stay ‘ere, make sure ya okay.” 
He presses a kiss to your forehead. You smile, softly. 
“Thank you…Si…” you nod. “For everything.”
“Always gone be there to save ya,” He nods. “When ya get bette’, I gone teach ya how to properly use that knife…and a few more things, just in case.”
“Sounds good, Si,” you hold back a giggle. 
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reiding-writing · 4 months
Note
since you are a person of angst, i was thinking about spencer x reader where in the heat of an argument, spencer says he will only forgive her when she dies.
so in one of the cases the reader is shot by spencer and sighs "now you can finally forgive me"
happy or sad ending, whatever you want
muah 💘
forgiven [ s.r ]
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Summary:
You lied to him with good intentions, but when he finds out the truth he says something detrimental in the heat of the moment. After weeks of radio silence any chance of reconciliation is almost lost after you get critically injured in the field.
WARNINGS: SPOILERS FOR IAN DOYLE ARC, harsh arguments, death wishes, gun mentions, major character injury, details of gun related injury
pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader
genre: ANGST with a happy ending
wc: 3.7k
masterlist!!
a/n: left the ending up to majority vote and majority vote said happy ending, you guys are so boring /j
happy ending or not this is still nice and jam packed with angst for all my angst enjoyers <3
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Emily Prentiss had been buried for seven months.
So how on earth was she stood five feet away from Spencer with a half guilty expression on her face like she’d put salt in his coffee rather than the fact that she’d been in Paris, fully alive and well whilst he mourned her ‘death’ for months.
But he couldn’t be mad at her. Of course he couldn’t.
Instead his gaze turned towards the way Hotch, JJ, and you were stood at the head of the table, completely unfazed whilst the rest of the team stood in shock at the fact that the friend that they’d buried was still alive.
He couldn’t help that small feeling of loathing mixing with the shock when Emily pulled him into a hug, his arms loosely rested around her back as his eyes narrowed slightly in your direction.
He’d let you see him at his absolute worst, an emotional, crying, pathetic mess of a person who was desperately mourning over the loss of one of his closest friends.
And you’d let him. Whilst knowing that Emily was still alive.
His emotional state had gotten so bad over the last few months that you’d even temporarily moved him in with you to make sure he wasn’t endangering himself.
He’d spiralled into a state where he couldn’t be trusted to live on his own. And you’d let him.
He didn’t speak to you during your drive home that night, and you knew why.
You knew he was going to be angry at you, and you couldn’t blame him for it.
What you didn’t expect, was for him to immediately start unrooting himself from your apartment; Clearing out drawers and stuffing his clothes in the suitcase hidden in one of the cupboards.
“Spencer what are you doing-” You barely manage to step out of the way before Spencer walked right into you with an armful of books in his hands as he pulled them from the bookshelf in your living room.
He stacks them neatly in the corner of the open case laid on top of his bed as you stand in the doorway of your guest room turned Spencer’s bedroom, clear concern written all over your face.
“I’m going home.” Spencer’s reply is blunt, flat, with the tiniest amount of hurt lacing his tone if you were to listen closely enough.
“Spence-” You block his exit from the room with your body as he attempts to make a second trip to clear your shelves of his books. “Can we just take a second to talk about this?”
“About what? The fact that you lied to me for seven months?” He takes a step back from you as you block the doorway, looking you directly in the eyes to make sure that you could read every semblance of hurt, loathing, and betrayal that swam in his irises.
“The fact that I trusted you to the point where I let you see me at my lowest and you knew everything I was grieving over was a lie?” Spencer had given up trying to leave the room, clearing out anything left in the bedroom instead and zipping the suitcase shut.
“The fact that you let me spiral to the point where I was considering relapsing and couldn’t be trusted to live on my own?”
“Spencer-”
“I confided in you. I told you everything. All those nights I spent sobbing in your arms talking about how I just wanted the pain to stop and you left me in the dark.” He was borderline shouting at you by now, his eyes glassed over with tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks and a lump in his throat that rended his composure shattered.
“I wish I could’ve told you Spencer but I couldn’t-”
“You couldn’t?” Spencer cuts you off before you have the time to try and explain yourself. “Or you wouldn’t?”
“I couldn’t- Spence I wanted to tell you I really did but Emily’s life was in danger-” You try to explain yourself whilst he’s giving you the time to do so, words falling out of your mouth as fast as your brain will let them form. “I couldn’t say anything without risking breaking her cover and sending her right back into Doyle’s grasp..”
“What about my life?” Spencer’s voice cracked slightly as he looked at you, a light flush covering his face from his frustration. “I spent ten weeks under 24/7 supervision because my mental state was so bad-”
“You know me. You know I wouldn’t have said anything. And you let me ruin my own mental state anyway.” The end of his negation of your explanation is marked by the suitcases wheels hitting the wooden flooring.
“Look i’m sorry okay? I didn’t-”
“What? didn’t mean to let it go so far? Didn’t mean to let me consider relapsing and washing any progress i’d made over the last four years down the drain?” He pushes past you with considerable force to make his way towards the front door of your apartment with his suitcase in hand. “Well it’s too late for that isn’t it?”
“Spencer wait-” You grasp at his wrist in a moment of desperation, silently begging for him not to leave. “I’m sorry,”
“I’m so, so sorry and you have every right to be angry at me and I know that keeping it from you was wrong-” Your desperation shows through your voice, through the stray tear that rolls down your left cheek and pools under your chin. “Just- let’s talk about this, please,”
“We just did.” Spencer’s voice is much harsher than you’re used to, although he removes your hand from his wrist with a whisper of his usual gentle nature that you wish would take over the rest of his personality as he pulls your door open to leave.
“I was just trying to protect her-” Your voice hitches at the end of your sentence, stray tears turning into a steady flow that dapples your white shirt in damp circles. “..please forgive me…”
Your voice is hardly a whisper by the time you’re finished, although Spencer’s expression does not match the softness in your tone.
Nor does his response.
“I’ll forgive you when you’re six feet under like she was.”
“Spencer-”
You barely have time to be shocked by his words before the front door of your apartment is closed harshly in your face, Spencer’s presence replaced by the ghost of his cologne and a sharp coldness that runs its way up your spine.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
It’d been three weeks.
And aside from asking Morgan to keep an eye on him you hadn’t so much as mentioned Spencer once.
It was a little difficult considering his desk was directly opposite yours, but a mix of wanting to respect his personal space and still being hurt by his comment allows you to keep to yourself no matter how close he was.
You’re thankful that the team hasn’t said anything, but you’re sure they’ll only respect your privacy until it interferes with the case you’re working on.
Emily had tried to talk Spencer down from his underlying anger to no avail during the plane ride, and despite the countless times that Hotch had taken full responsibility for keeping Emily’s living status a secret, it didn’t stop Spencer from sending you half-glares across the station or refuting any suggestion you gave with an overcomplicated explanation of why you were wrong.
By the fourth day you were on the verge of snapping at him, the Texas heat melding with his snark and making you want to tear all of your skin from your face.
You definitely weren’t in the right mental state to enter an active shooter situation, but as you followed Morgan into the building with your 9mm planted firmly between your hands, all you could think about is the conversation you were going to force Spencer into having with you once all of this was over.
You were so tired of being in this stalemate with him, you just wanted your Spencer back.
The one who would trap you on your couch so he could explain the Doctor Who lore in explicit detail with that bright starry look in his eyes the longer you let him ramble.
It was just radio silence. And you couldn’t bare it anymore.
Your mind was clouded by your own thoughts as you swept the building, and you suppose you only have yourself to blame for not hearing the unfamiliar footsteps behind you until it’s too late.
You turn on your heels towards the noise, expecting it to be Morgan or even Spencer, finished with sweeping the floor and ready to move on.
Instead you’re met by a sharp bang that rings through your ears and a pain in your throat that makes your breath catch and your legs fail underneath you.
Your left hand comes straight to your throat, immediately coated in the dark red liquid escaping from the new hole created in your body, and you manage to fire a shot in the direction of your assailant as he runs, although whether you actually hit him or not you’re not sure.
It takes less than ten seconds for your team members to arrive at your side, and you desperately point in the direction that the UnSub had ran off in as you try and refrain from coughing up blood and in turn flooding your lungs.
Morgan and Emily share a look before running off in your pointed direction. Spencer however, ignores your arm completely and rushes to kneel at your side, dropping his gun on the floor in the process and frantically holding the radio button on his watch to yell out his need for medical services.
“You’re going to be fine- Everything’s going to be fine-” You can practically feel the panic emanating from his body, his hands trembling as he tugged his bullet proof vest from his chest to tear at the hem of his shirt and use it to block the bullet hole in your throat as your hand compression weakened with your blood loss.
You can tell he was trying to reassure you, but it didn’t sound all that convincing, even to himself.
His right hand added a copious amount of pressure to the front of your throat as he aided you into the recovery position, checking the nape of your neck for an exit wound. Nothing.
A soft “two minutes” echoes back through the radio speaker in his watch and though he tries to mutter it under his breath to not freak you out any further, you can hear his uncertain “that’s too long,” even through the tinnitus plaguing your ears.
You cough up the clotted chunks of oxidised blood stuck in your oesophagus onto the floor beneath you, and Spencer makes an effort to protect your head from the floor by elevating it on his thigh.
“You’re going to be fine-” Spencer sounds more panicked than you as his eyes blink with tears, unable to be wiped as they fall down his cheeks from the red staining against his fingers and the ever present pressure he’s adding to your injury.
“Does this mean you’re going to forgive me now?” You choke out the words alongside what could barely be considered a laugh as it leaves you hacking up more blood through your mouth, your attempt at lightening the mood falling on deaf ears as it sends Spencer into a fit of tears.
“I’m so sorry-” Spencer’s tears run hot against his cheeks, pooling at his chin and falling onto the ripped fabric of his shirt he was using to try and stop your throat from bleeding. “I’m so sorry for yelling at you and barging out and just being awful to you I’m sorry-”
The distinct sounds of sirens sound over Spencer’s profuse apology and you can see the relief flood his face as he hears them. “You hear that? You’re gonna be okay, they’re gonna get you to a hospital and you’re gonna be fine,”
He nodded determinedly at you, more like he’s trying to convince himself than convince you.
He neglected to tell you about the fact that gunshot wounds to the neck held a 78% mortality rate, or how when they obstruct major airways that number jumps to 92%.
It was fine. You would be fine.
He can hear the pounding footsteps of the medical team as they breach the building, yelling out in their direction with as much composure as he can muster.
He helped the medical team carefully position you on a stretcher so they could rush you into the ambulance, and he runs alongside you, giving the EMTs as much information as he can.
“They were shot by a 7.5mm two minutes and forty seconds ago, it breached their trachea but there’s no exit wound so it’s likely lodged in the back of their oesophagus-” Spencer speaks through heaved breaths as his body fights to take in oxygen over his will to help the EMTs treat you as quickly as possible, following them into the back of the ambulance.
“They’ve been conscious the whole time this far but I think they’re going through pulmonary edema and-”
“Spence-” Your voice is barely audible through your struggle to breathe, joined by the pressure on your throat as well as under your diaphragm as one of the EMTs checks for signs of your lungs being flooded. “Don’t backseat doctor-”
The fact that you’re still conscious enough to lightly chastise him makes Spencer feel a little less panicked, although removing a pebble from a mountain doesn’t affect its height.
By the time you reach the hospital, you’re unconscious but not yet critical, and he almost follows you right into the OR until he’s blocked from the door by one of the nurses and escorted into the waiting area.
“Well let you know the second anything changes Dr Reid,”
He nods hastily as he sits down, fiddling with his fingers and tapping his feet against the linoleum floors.
You weren’t critical yet, but that didn’t mean that you’d pull through. You had flooded lungs and a bullet lodged somewhere in the back of your throat that they were going to surgically remove.
If something went wrong, that was it.
Spencer spends the first thirty minutes mentally beating himself up.
Why did he lash out at you? You were only doing what you thought was best to protect Emily.
Why did he say he’d only forgive you if you died? You didn’t mean to cause him any harm.
Why was he constantly managing to ruin anything positive that was happening between the two of you?
Maybe he was cursed.
Cursed to live a life of eternal suffering as the perpetual cost for the gift of his intelligence.
He would give up every IQ point he had if it meant that you would recover with no complications.
He would sacrifice his eidetic memory in an instant if it meant he got to make new ones with you.
He’d give up everything that he was prided on as long as you were okay. You needed to be okay.
The next forty-five minutes was spent in an anxious silence. The team had rushed to the hospital as soon as they’d secured the UnSub’s incarceration, only amplifying the tension in the waiting area.
As the nurse calls out your name to the room, the team immediately stands to rush over, everyone silently praying that you’re okay.
“We’re glad to say that the surgery was a success,”
Those words are enough for the anxiety to dwindle in the group, a wave of relief overtaking it.
“They’ve had to have a temporary tracheotomy, and due to the placement of the bullet lodged between their vertebrae, a spinal excision, but both procedures progressed with no issues, meaning they should recover perfectly fine,”
Morgan and Emily share a audible sigh of relief, overshadowed by Spencer’s voice, less anxious but still filled with adrenaline. “Can I see them?”
“They’re currently under supervised care to make sure they don’t destabilise, but if you leave your mobile number we will contact you when they wake,” The nurse passes Spencer a small post it note and a biro pen from her clip board and he doesn’t hesitate to scribble his name and number down before handing them back.
“They’re strong, most patients don’t remain conscious for more than a minute or two after an injury like that,” The nurse takes the pen and post it from Spencer with a small smile. “I have full faith that they’ll recover perfectly fine,”
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Spencer extends his stay in Texas indefinitely.
The rest of the team had left for Quantico two days ago to file out all of the necessary paperwork for the case, with Spencer opting to remain in Texas until you were fit to fly home with him.
Home. He wonders if you’ll let him come home with you. To stay with you in your apartment again and live side by side with him once more.
Maybe he can convince you through your recovery; That patients recovering with spinal injuries need 24/7 attention just in case something happens.
Yeah. That sounded like a good idea.
Spencer’s plans for taking you home were interrupted by the shrill ring of his cellphone, the screen lighting up with an unknown number.
His heart rate increases as he picks the phone up from his hotel room’s coffee table, his hands trembling by the time he holds it up to his ear. “Hello?”
“McAllen County Hospital, am I speaking to Doctor Spencer Reid?”
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Spencer is in his rental car almost before he hangs up the phone, driving the speed limit as he tries to get to the hospital as soon as possible.
He runs what he’s going to say when he sees you over and over again in his head on the way there, but by the time he reaches your hospital room his mind goes completely blank, and he just stands in the door staring at you.
“Hello to you too,” Your voice is very clearly strained and raspy, still recovering from the emergency tracheotomy you’d been given during surgery.
The sound of your voice, as dry and strained as it is, immediately sends Spencer into a fit of tears, and he rushes to take a seat on the plastic chair beside your bed with the most upset, regretful expression you think you’ve ever seen. “I’m so sorry,”
“Spence…” You reach out your hand out from the hospital bed, laying it against his lower thigh and squeezing it lightly.
“I shouldn’t have lashed out at you I know you were doing what’s right and I didn’t mean what I said I don’t want you to die I promise-” He takes in a sharp breath through his nose once he’s finished his ramble, and you wait a few seconds to make sure he’s actually finished before speaking yourself.
“You’re fine Spence…” Your hand trails up to grasp at his own, intertwining your fingers with his and giving them a small squeeze. “You had every right to be angry,”
Spencer shakes his head adamantly at you. “No, i’m sorry. What I said was wrong and you didn’t deserve that,”
Spencer exhales softly through his nose, his voice wavering and his hands trembling against your own. “Can you forgive me..?”
You question whether to make a joke about whether he’s close to dying or not, but opt out of it considering his fragile emotional state.
“How about we both forgive each other and call it even?” You let out a small chuckle at the end of your question, turning into more of a cough as it dries out your throat, and Spencer grabs the glass of water left on your bedside table with his free hand.
He holds it up to let you drink from it rather than unlinking your hands to let you hold the cup yourself, placing the styrofoam back down once you’re finished.
You give him a mildly embarrassed smile that he returns with one of his own, leaning forward to gently rest his forehead against yours.
If you weren’t recovering from a spinal surgery he would’ve had you in a bone crushing hug by now, but holding your hand and leaning his forehead to yours would suffice for now.
“Forgiven?” You allow your eyes to flutter closed at the soft contact, exhaling slowly through your nose.
“Forgiven…”
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sugarcoatedstarkey · 4 months
Text
Fake Boyfriend - p2
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Pairings - soft!Rafe Cameron x virgin! Fem reader
Summary - You lie to your best friend about having a boyfriend.
Warnings - none
Part one if you missed it
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You're aroused from your sleep by the piercing bright light seeping through the curtains, hitting you directly between the eyes. You let out a groan and press your face into the pillow, it feels as though you're on a boat. Your stomach churns as your brain sways within your skull. “Jesus” you mumble, pushing yourself up from the bed slightly.
Panic sets in when you don’t recognise anything in the room, your hands flying under the cover to check you were still clothed.
“God you move a lot for someone with a hangover” a voice grumbles beside you, you sit up so fast your stomach lurches and the growing headache pounds behind your eyes. “Here”.
Your eyes fall to Rafe, he lay next to you, still dressed in the clothes from last night. He has 2 pills in the palm of his hand and a bottle of water, you accept gratefully and lay back down.
Silence falls over the two of you only to be interrupted with his phone ringing, he ignores it and sits up to look at you. “I’m sorry about yesterday, my friend wouldn’t shut up about me not having a boyfriend. The lie just slipped” you speak, he nods his head but stays silent. Your eyes wander over his face trying to pick up on an emotion but it’s unreadable, his blue eyes stare back at you.
“Never had a boyfriend huh?” He smirks, his left eyebrow raises in question. Redness spreads across your cheeks, spinning your body until it hides under the blanket. “So does that mean..”.
“Oh god, this is so damn embarrassing” you exclaim, you feel sick to the stomach. Thankfully you're both pulled away when his phone rings for the second time, he answers it with a huff and pulls himself from the bed.
You peek your head out of the blanket and watch him close the bathroom door behind him, you take this moment to step out of bed. Wobbling slightly on the plush carpet, thankfully the nausea had subsided and you were just left with a headache.
You grabbed your phone from the bedside table and made a dash for it, no way were you going to wait for him knowing he had follow up questions.
You're so close to the front door when Kelsie rounds the corner, she throws her arms around you in delight. “Finally! I’ve been waiting for you to wake up, didn’t want to wake you up myself in case I walked in on something” she giggled, wiggling her eyebrows at you. You nervously laughed, you probably shouldn’t let her think you were having sex. You know she’d ask for details later and you weren’t sure you could lie about that.
“Hey!” She exclaims, waving behind you. You turn to see Rafe walking towards you with a smirk on his lips, looking away quickly you nudge your friend towards the door. “We should get going” you mumble, gripping her bicep roughly. She shakes her head though just as Rafe’s arm wraps around your shoulder, he brings your back flush against his front.
Your body tingles, well aware that your bum was pressed against where his cock was tucked away. “You can’t leave yet babe, have coffee first”.
Your breath catches in your throat from the nickname, your limbs feel like jelly as you let him push you towards the kitchen. He maneuvers around the kitchen effortlessly and in silence, Kelsie sits on the stool watching him get the coffee machine ready, he turns to look at you and holds out a mug. “Thanks” you manage a smile and step over to help him, he looks down at you for a split second and then over at Kelsie who is tapping on her phone.
“Play along” he whispers, your eyes go wide when his thumb and forefinger trap your chin. Tilting your head up so he can duck down and kiss you.
You can’t stop the swarm of butterflies that are let loose in your stomach, your fingers grip the front of his white shirt. His hand pulls you in by your waist, you're trying to remind yourself this is fake. He’s just helping you out, helping you put on a show for your best friend.
“Gross! You’ve been doing god knows what all morning, let me get to know your boyfriend y/n” Kelsie cringes from her seat, dramatically covering her eyes in disgust. But the curve of her lips shows how damn excited she was for you. “What do you want to know?” Rafe questions, placing a mug down in front of her and then handing you yours.
“Everything! How long have you guys been together first?” Her eyes move between the two of you, your mouth opens but no words follow. Slamming your lips closed quickly before she notices. “Only 3 weeks, I’ve known about y/n since she came to the island 2 years ago. Just never had the courage to speak to her”.
Your brows crease together In the middle, was what he was saying true? If it wasn’t, how did he know you moved here 2 years ago?.
“That’s so sweet! Oh y/n I’m so damn happy for you! Anyway you gave me all the goss last night about the two of you, so Rafe what do you do for work?”
You sit in silence while your best friend interrogates Rafe Cameron, you hang onto every last word of his. Making mental notes about everything he was saying, you didn’t know much about Rafe Cameron.
You just knew he was rich and practically owned half the island, you heard a few things about problems with drugs when he was younger but that he got clean. He didn’t bring any of that up though and of course why would he, this whole situation was just to help you out.
“You got yourself a good one y/n! You better keep good care of her, I leave in a few days and I need to know my bestie is well looked after” she says but wiggles her eyebrows at the last part, nudging you in the ribs. You laugh with her and give him a tight smile.
“Of course, I’ll take real good care of her” he winks at you and you're so grateful for the chair that kept you from falling to the ground, one simple movement from him and you were weak at the knees. “Anyway we should get going, I promised you a trip to Charleston” you said, you made your way to the sink to wash the mug but large hands stop you as you reach for the cloth. “I got it”.
“Oh yes! I’m so excited, okay let’s go! Will see you later, yeah Rafe?” You suppress a groan, squeezing your eyes shut at your insistent friend. You open your mouth to tell her he’s got plans with friends but he’s agreeing with her and saying he’ll see you both later.
“I’ll let you say goodbye in private” she winks, skipping around the corner. When you hear the front door lock you turn to him, he’s staring at you again with his bright blue eyes.
“Thank you so much for playing along and helping me out but honestly I’ll tell her you have plans, she’ll be gone in a few days and we can pretend none of this happened”. You state, he doesn’t move from his spot or acknowledge what you’ve said for a few moments, you stare in silence.
“I’ll play your fake boyfriend y/n” he says, placing his mug into the sink and stepping towards you. “You really don’t need to, I’m apparently really good at lying” you reply, you give him an awkward thank you hug and dart out the door.
Your heart feels like it’s in your throat, rushing towards the Uber waiting for you. You couldn’t believe you had gotten away with it, one little lie worked and now you no longer had your best friend in your ear about finding a man.
The two of you went home to shower and change, spending your day over in Charleston. Showing Kelsie around the town and shopping. Your feet were on fire by the time you stepped through your front door, you dropped your bags to the floor. “I need to lay down!” You announce, walking straight to your bedroom and dropping onto the bed.
You must have passed out because you're waking up in a dark room, your shoes have been taken off and a blanket draped over you. Your ears prick up to the sound of music, what was Kelsie doing?
You threw the blanket off you and stepped into your bathroom, you grabbed a makeup wipe and cleaned up the mascara that had smudged under your eyes. Racking a comb through your hair and stepping back out of the bathroom.
The moment you open your bedroom door you are hit with loud music and the smell of tequila, you follow the noise towards the living room. “There she is!” Your best friend screams, she comes charging at you wrapping her arms around your neck.
Your eyes land on Rafe who sits on the one seater velvet chair, legs spread wide. He sends a smirk your way and raises his glass as a hello. “What is happening?” You question, noticing Rafe’s friends lounge on the couch and your friends looking at you in confusion. Oh god.
Your lie was about to unravel, you hadn’t thought about Kelsie meeting them. “I grabbed your phone while you were sleeping and organized a little get together! But you missy need to stop deleting messages it was very hard to figure out who your friends where”.
You were more concerned about how she got Rafes number, it would have been suspicious for you not to have messages with him. “Luckily everyone was saved in your favorites” she says handing you your phone, when she isn’t looking you search your phone. Rafes name pops up under favorite number 1, he must have put it in there last night? He was a lot better at this fake dating than you had expected.
“Hi” his voice whispered in your ear, his breath tickled your neck sending familiar shivers down your spine. His fingers dance around your hip stopping at your stomach, flattening his hand against you he pulled you back against him. “Hey” you managed, you say, he could tell you were flustered from the pink creeping up your neck until it made home on the apple of your cheeks. “You were asleep when she texted, I’m not as good of a liar as you” he joked, his eyes looking behind you for a moment and then his lips were on yours. You had now been kissed by 3 boys in your our lifetime, his lips were your favorite so far.
“Get a room!” Kelsie shouted, she poured tequila into shot glasses and began passing them around. “Let’s get this party started!”.
An uneasy feeling settled in your stomach, Kelsie never usually drank this much when she was around you. She knew you weren’t much of a drinker, especially since your dad was an alcoholic.
You stared down at the shot in your hand, you really didn’t want to drink tonight. Before you could even bring it to your lips Rafe was swapping his empty shot glass with yours and throwing it back. “You didn’t have to do that” you whispered, his hand still laying upon your stomach. You could feel him breathing against your back. “You didn’t want it”.
He gives you another soft smile and looks back at everyone in the room, Kelsie has turned the music up louder and pulled everyone into the middle of the lounge. “I just need to talk to my friends quickly” he nods his head and drops his hand from you. He watched you make your way to your friends and took a seat back on the seat he once occupied.
“Girl! You didn’t tell us you were seeing Rafe!” Sam exclaimed, she was in pure shock. Your three outer banks friends had lived here all their lives, they had known Rafe since school. “I’m sorry, it’s so recent I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it yet”.
“That’s okay, totally understand! It’s Rafe Cameron for crying out loud, I never thought I’d see the day he settles down” Grace says, she looks over at Rafe who is still watching you. They send him a smile and look back at you, an uneasy feeling in your stomach again.
“Yeah who knew” you laughed, you stood with them for a bit longer until the feeling of his eyes on you made you squirm. Walking back over to him, he pulled you to sit on his lap.
Your legs sat between his open ones, body nuzzled into his side. His arm around your shoulder, it was surprisingly comfortable and not weird. “We should probably discuss this fake boyfriend thing” he whisperedMy, pushing a piece of your hair behind your ear. “You really don’t have to pretend after today”.
He chuckles and moves in his seat a little bit, your thighs rubbing against his groin. The redness once again painted on your cheeks. “You underestimate your friend”.
You look over at Kelsie who’s dancing away with Topper, both of them look like they escaped the mental hospital.
“You might be right” you agreed, unsure why you feel so content against him. You’d sat on boys' laps before and cuddled, it usually made you feel uncomfortable and you’d run off before they got the wrong idea.
“She's here for 3 days, so if you were possibly free over the next few days I’d be forever in your debt” you say, turning slightly to look up at him. He tilts his chin to look down at you, something flashes behind his eyes but you can’t quite place what it is. His smile is intoxicating, the crinkles at the corner of his eyes and the perfectly straight teeth could kill me. “I can be free BUT I need a favour from you”.
“Yeah?” Your heart beats a bit faster and harder in your chest, what could Rafe Cameron possibly want from you? “I’ll need you to come to an event, I need a plus one”.
“Oh sure thing” you answer a bit too quickly, earning a smirk from the man under you. “Let’s talk about rules then?”
“Rules?”
“Yeah, you’ve never had a boyfriend before. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable by doing anything you don’t want” he states, his tone is serious and his smile has vanished. “Oh” is all you manage to say to him, he moves again sitting up more straight so you both face each other.
“If I touch you anywhere you don’t like or want, or if I kiss you and you don’t want it, you just tell me. I won’t be hurt”
You nod your head, his hand cups your face and his lips touch yours for only a brief moment. “Sorry… they were watching”.
You turn your head and every snap their head back to what they were doing, a soft chuckle leaves your mouth and you look back at Rafe.
“Okay, and if you're busy or no longer want to be my fake boyfriend you just tell me. No hard feelings”
“Okay”
“Shall we kiss on it?”
You're the one to press your lips to his this time, it’s not quick like the last one. It’s more intense, his tongue snakes between your lips and you're moving in sync. This was a lot better than any of the other kisses you shared with someone.
“Sorry, I thought we’d give them a show”.
“Right” you breath, clearing the back of your throat and laying against him again. Was it normal to enjoy a kiss from a fake boyfriend that much?
Tag list - @rafemotherfuckingcameron @rafegirly @prentissesredtanktop @maybankslover @vigilanteshitposting
Part 3
1K notes · View notes
rainydayathogwarts · 5 months
Text
Emily finds out - Spencer Reid blurb
You rubbed your eyes with the back of your fist, watching as Spencer nodded, his phone held up to his ear. His deep morning voice - if you can even call it the morning yet - echoed in the small room as he briefly answered Hotch's words. You hit your head back against Spencer's pillow, ignoring the rustle in the room of him pulling clothes from the closet and waiting to get the same call from your boss. When your phone finally rung, you threw your hand out onto the bedside table, blindly fishing for it. You brought it back against your ear with a groan, lazily answering the call.
"We've got an urgent case, head to the office now please L/N, me and Rossi are already on it." And with that, he hung up the phone, ignoring the groan of acknowledgement you had let out. He was more brief than he had been with your boyfriend, and was clearly already getting sick of the day. You rolled on your back, watching your boyfriend pull his pants over his hips before kicking your legs over the side of his bed and leaning down to grab your trousers, mimicking Spencer's movements. You briefly glance at the clock, 4:08 am. "You should probably go, I'll take my car and follow you out once I'm ready. It'll seem suspicious otherwise." You tell him, pulling the same black top you wore the day before over your head. Spencer moves to stand between your legs and softly puts both his hands on your jaw so you can look up at him and he leans down for a quick yet sweet kiss.
He rushes out through the door obediently, looking back at you one last time to take a glance at you staring at your reflection in the mirror, trying to tame down your hair. Spencer leaves his apartment keys in the keyhole, trusting you to lock his apartment door twice and bring him the keys later. You make your way out of the apartment and into your car, parking in the basement of the building only 20 minutes later. You sigh, gathering your things and rushing up to the elevator.
No one is in the bullpen when you arrive, so you make your way to the debriefing room, hitting your hip against the doorknob when you enter. You groan, wincing, but make your way into one of the chairs around the circular table nonetheless. Of course, it's Derek who makes the first comment on your appearance when you enter. "Damn sweetheart didn't think you'd be the one to show up in last night's outfit." Spencer, who sits next to Derek, furrows his eyebrows. "What he means is she was over at someone else's having sex." Emily tries to whisper at him from across the table, but everyone hears the comment she makes and you scoff, lightly slapping her arm.
"Hey I wouldn't be if I had some earlier notice." You argue, opening the files in front of you. "I don't see anything wrong with that. Agent L/N came prepared when we asked her to and is immediately on task, unlike the rest of you. She'd have wasted our time by going home to change." Hotch's deep, usually grumpy voice comes out with a hint of amusement and you nod your head as the others go back to work with smirks on their faces.
"Jareau, catch L/N up on what she's missed - everyone wheels up in thirty." After JJ does catch you up, the room starts to file out, eventually leaving you and Spencer alone. You widen your eyes at him in amusement and he chuckles, his cheeks turning slightly redder than usual. You shuffle the chair you're in until you're sat next to your boyfriend and you press a kiss on his cheek before digging through your bag. He stands up in the meantime, thinking you've changed your focus to something else but call out for him "Spencer, wait!" He turns back to look at you and you hold out his house keys with an eyebrow raised. "Don't want Morgan finding me with those." But then not even a second later, Emily is rushing back into the room, grabbing her phone.
"My bad!" She pants, about to leave the room, but she abruptly stops upon seeing a flash of movement, and then the looks on your faces. Spencer looks like he's been caught dealing drugs and you on the other hand look surprised yet slightly amused with your eyes wide and arms still by your sides. She takes a moment to profile you, taking note of how Spencer's house keys are now in his hand, which he'd been trying to slyly shove in his pocket. She looks confused, but starts walking, muttering a quiet "After you." To Spencer before she steps in front of you, blocking the doorway.
She stares at you, her jaw slack, and slowly raises her pointer finger at you. "You- he's the- oh my gosh you have to tell me everything."
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steddiealltheway · 7 months
Text
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. 
Steve's knee bounces up and down as he stares at Eddie's near-lifeless form. He doesn't know how long he's been here, memories flashing through his head that he's tried to will away. But it's hard when he knows that this is all his fault. 
He's the reason Eddie's in this hospital bed. 
-:-:-:- 
Steve bounced his leg to the beat that pierced through the trailer. He smiled at Eddie who laughed manically over the crazy-sounding song. 
Eddie turned the knob down slightly and yelled over the music, "You don't have to pretend to like this!" 
Steve just shook his head. "Turn it up louder. I like the way it clears my thoughts." 
Eddie cranked the knob even higher and jumped on his mattress, jostling Steve who just laughed in response and stood up to join Eddie in some crazy dance. 
For once, Steve felt free. He wasn't supposed to be enjoying this. Hell, he wasn't even supposed to be here. But he came up with excuses as he wrapped his arms around Eddie's shoulders, slotting them closer together. 
That's why he was there, right? He needed to play the game Eddie didn't know about. 
-:-:-:- 
"Steve." 
He's shaken out of his thoughts by Robin's hand on his shoulder. He glances at her momentarily before looking back at Eddie. He can't let him out of his sight. 
"Steve, you need to eat. Even his uncle has taken a break from watching over him." 
Steve knows that Robin's confused, he can hear it in her voice. Maybe it's time he finally told her but first, "Please, let me wait until someone else can watch over him." 
"Dustin's in the hall. The hospital is still standing by their two visitors at a time policy, but he can watch over him while you eat." 
Steve's eyes don't leave Eddie's chest which slowly moves up and down. "Why can't we eat in the room?" 
Robin moves to kneel down in front of him. "Steve, you have to leave this room, okay? You need to shower and rest and eat and breathe fresh air. Please, we're all so worried about you. Dustin's already partially lost Eddie, we can't lose you, too." 
Steve pries his eyes away to look at Robin. He nods. He can feel a small ache in the pit of his stomach and a heavy pull on his eyelids. "I need to tell you something." 
Robin grabs his hands nodding. He's not sure when she started crying, but a slow tear rolls down her face following a trail of already smeared mascara. Steve quietly says, "This is all my fault. I'm the reason he's here." He feels his bottom lip quiver before he fully breaks, his loud sobs joining in with the steady beeping of the monitor. 
Robin stands and pulls him out of the chair, letting him bury his head into her shoulder. "It's not your fault the bats got him, Steve. It's not your fault." 
"Y-You don't understand," Steve sobs out as Robin pulls him in tighter. 
-:-:-:- 
Steve's lip quivered as he gripped onto Eddie's shoulders tightly. "I'm so sorry." 
Eddie shook his head as he stared at him blinking, still slightly panting. "I don't understand." 
Of course he didn't understand. He didn't know the terrible thing he was doing. Steve knew this was it. He needed to leave. 
Forever. 
-:-:-:- 
The hospital halls are bright, and the sun is even brighter. Everything is brighter than Steve remembers. It doesn't feel right. 
Robin manages to get him to his home, shoving him into the bathroom with a towel and a stack of clothes. After he gets out, she hands him fresh bandages and his prescribed ointment for the damn bat wounds. 
She manages to convince him to eat a few bites of a grilled cheese she made along with some tomato soup she found in his pantry. Steve eats on autopilot while Robin sits next to him on his couch, eating in silence. 
When Steve finishes half his sandwich, he puts his tray down on his coffee table and turns to Robin. "Do you promise not to hate me after I tell you this? 
Robin chews as a line forms between her eyebrows. She swallows but pauses for a few seconds. "I'm your best friend. I'm going to love you no matter what." 
"You don't understand," Steve says shaking his head, "There's a reason I never told you this before." 
"Told me what?" Robin prompts. 
Steve swallows. "At the beginning of junior year, Tommy and Carol had heard some rumor that senior Eddie Munson was gay. And for some reason, I couldn't let the idea go. So, I suggested that we should play a prank on him... And that I should..." He sighs and puts his head in his hands. 
Robin's hand trails over his back. 
Steve continues in a rush, "I told them I should pretend to be into him." 
Robin's hand freezes on his back, and Steve hears her slightly gasp. 
Steve looks up at her. "That isn't even the worst part." 
-:-:-:- 
Steve smirked when he saw Eddie in the back of his English class scribbling something in his notebook. He had crafted a plan at lunch the day before with Tommy and Carol. It would be easy. 
Steve made his way to the back of the classroom and sat next to Eddie, making a show of digging through his backpack and not being able to find something. He looked up at Eddie and smiled politely. "You wouldn't happen to have a pencil would you?" 
Eddie stared at him with a mixture of disbelief and shock at the concept of Steve Harrington acknowledging him. He glanced down at his notebook and stared at it as if he was apologizing to it. Then, Eddie handed him the pencil out of his hand. 
Steve winked as he said, "Thanks." 
The other boy didn't say anything, he just nodded. 
Steve noticed that he didn't reach for his bag for another pencil as more people filtered into the room. Steve leaned across the way and quietly asked, "Don't you have another one?" 
Eddie shook his head. "I don't really take notes. Just sketch or plan stuff." 
"He speaks," Steve said with a big smile. "What are those sketches?" 
Eddie shifted in his seat and looked Steve up and down before turning his sketches his way. "Creatures and shit from Dungeons and Dragons." 
Honestly, they looked really cool. Steve didn't know that people could actually draw like that. His friends were always more athletic than artistic. "That's really cool," Steve said genuinely. 
"Thanks," Eddie breathed out, turning the book back toward himself as if he were trying to hide it. 
Steve stared at him for a few seconds before he handed his pencil back. 
"Are you sure you don't need it?" Eddie asked, hesitating to take it back. 
Steve nodded, digging into the pouch where he kept several pencils. "I'm sure," he said with another big smile before leaning across the aisle again. "You should show me more of your drawings sometime. And hey, it's Eddie, right?" 
Eddie's eyebrows furrowed as he nodded. "Yeah." 
Steve stuck out his hand and introduced himself, "Steve." 
"I know," Eddie replied but he shook his hand nonetheless. 
Steve ignored the way the touch made him feel like he suddenly couldn't breathe. Instead, he focused on the way he had already made progress in his game. 
-:-:-:- 
"Okay, so you flirted with him a little and led him on a bit." 
"No," Steve insists, "It was more than just the classroom interactions. I went full-on crazy. I would watch him at lunch and make sure he knew that I was watching. I even changed my route to class to make sure I would bump into him in the hallway. Hell, I went as far as to try to change my locker so it was closer to his." In hindsight, he should've known that was going too far. But in the moment, it felt like he needed to get as close as possible to Eddie Munson. 
Robin shifts to tuck her knees to her chest. She looks at him carefully as she asks, "Did you... enjoy seeing him?" 
Steve shrugs, not sure what she's getting at. 
Robin only frowns slightly before leaning in closer and lowering her voice. "I mean, did you have a crush on him." 
"No," Steve says immediately, feeling the same guard come up as it always does when he asks himself the question. Or when someone else has asked him that question... 
-:-:-:- 
"I swear you like the queer or something," Tommy sneered at the lunch table as Carol laughed loudly. 
Steve pulled his eyes away from Eddie and firmly stated, "It's not like that." 
"Really? Because you're looking at him like you want to sample whatever the freak will give you." 
Steve's hands flexed under the table. He didn't know why he was so angry at the accusation. "It's not like that," Steve repeated lowly.  
"Why are you getting so defensive?" Carol asked with a twisted grin. 
He knew they were trying to get under his skin about it, and as much as he didn't want to let them know they got to him, he couldn't stand what they were implying. "Fuck you," he said and stormed out of the cafeteria. He could hear Tommy’s and Carol's grating laughter as he left, furthering his damn anger.  
He stormed into the bathroom and checked that all the stalls were clear before he sat on the nasty floor and put his head in his hands. 
He didn't know why the question got to him so much because it really wasn’t like that. He didn't like Munson. The whole point of getting closer to him was to trick Munson into liking him. 
He started to think that maybe that wasn't so funny anymore. 
The door to the bathroom opened and shut quickly, a lock twisted and closed Steve in with whoever came in. 
He slowly looked up, embarrassed by being caught in this state, but he became even more so when he saw it was Eddie who had followed him. 
"You okay?" Eddie's asked gently, keeping his distance. 
Steve sighed and leaned his head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling. "My friends are assholes." 
Eddie snorted in response which caught Steve off-guard. "Sorry," Eddie said with a smile, "It's just that everyone knows that. Or maybe I just especially know that." 
"Then why are you here?" Steve asked, but the question sounded a little too harsh even to him. 
Eddie shrugged then walked over to Steve and slid down the bathroom wall to join him on the floor. "You've been uncharacteristically kind to me these past few weeks. I couldn't be sure that you weren't in a hostage situation," he joked.  
Steve was surprised to find that the joke put him at ease and even made him smile. He smiled further when he saw the way Eddie relished the fact that he cheered him up. 
"Hey," Eddie said as he scooted closer to him. "I've got this secret lunch spot where I usually deal, but it's also great if you need a space away from people. I can show it to you tomorrow." 
Steve's heart thudded a little harder in his chest at the suggestion, filled with nerves and excitement at the thought of spending actual alone time with Eddie. "I'd really like that." 
-:-:-:- 
Steve sighs and looks at Robin who he knows would love and support him no matter what feelings he confesses. He breathes out, "Maybe I did like him like that." 
Robin gives him a sad smile and rests her hand on his.  
"He and I would eat lunch together every Tuesday and Thursday in this little spot in the woods that had a picnic bench and everything. And I started looking forward to those days and when I would pass him in the hall and our class together. God, I just wanted to be around him all the time. He was like my best friend at the time."  
"So, what happened?" 
Steve pinches his lips together and shakes his head. "I kept leading him on. I would report things to Tommy and Carol and they would laugh at him and call him so many damn names. God, then it spread to the whole basketball team because Tommy can't shut his damn mouth. And they'd do shit like high-five me in the hall. They told me I was doing God's work by making sure Eddie's attention was only on me." 
"God, they're such assholes." 
Steve nods in agreement and adds, "So am I." 
"You've changed, Steve." 
Steve shakes his head. "I don't know, Robin." 
-:-:-:- 
Steve felt high out of his mind lying in Eddie's bed with their fingers intertwined. Only when he was high, he felt like he could touch him like this. He didn't want it to go any further. More like, he was scared of it going any further because he wouldn't know what that meant. 
Eddie's head turned to him - his lips only a short distance away from Steve's. He was starting to notice these things more and more around the boy. 
"You're different," Eddie commented. 
Steve laughed and rolled on his side. "How?" 
"Different from anyone I've ever met. Nothing like your asshole friends." 
Steve's smile fell from his face at the comment. He was exactly like them; Eddie just didn't know it. 
"Why me?" Eddie asked. 
Steve glanced up at him. "What do you mean?" 
Eddie rolled on his side, shifting even closer to Steve. "Why did you choose to be nice to me? It felt so damn random especially after you practically never looked at me before." 
Steve's mouth opened and closed, unsure how to answer. Instead, he opted out and replied, "I don't know." 
"Well, I'm glad you noticed me. I don't know what I would do without you at this point." 
"Me neither," Steve replied honestly. 
-:-:-:- 
"I never told him," Steve says, feeling his bottom lip quiver. "God, I wanted to tell him the truth, but I couldn't." 
Robin nods. “I don’t blame you, that’s a hard thing to explain to someone.” When Steve doesn’t reply, she presses on, "So, what else happened?" 
Steve runs both hands over his face and leans back against the couch, unable to look at Robin anymore. "It was a few weeks before Halloween, so I had been leading him on for two months at that point. We were hanging out almost every day. I almost spent the night sometimes because I was over so late just talking to him. But I never let myself. I knew if I stayed once, I would stay every night if I could. " 
"It sounds like you were just being friendly to him. I don't know how he could have misinterpreted it," Robin reasons. 
Steve shakes his head. "I wasn't just friendly. I would blatantly flirt sometimes. Shit, I used to leave notes in his locker sometimes and whenever we were alone, I would usually initiate some contact like holding his hand. But when it was late, and I could excuse the touchiness as a form of sleep deprivation, I would lay in bed with him, and we would just stare at each other. Sometimes, I let my hands wander in his hair, over his face, down his arms basically anywhere he'd let me." 
Robin lets a deep breath out and pauses before asking, "Did you ever do more than that?" 
Steve shakes his head but pinches his nose sharply. He has to own up to it. "Fuck," he sighs burying his head in his hands. "Yes, we did more than that but only one time." 
-:-:-:- 
Steve didn't remember why he was laughing; Eddie just kind of pulled it out of him at times. Besides, it was also late, and they both tended to get a bit giggly during the early AMs. 
Eddie stopped laughing suddenly, so Steve turned to him and asked, "What?" 
Eddie just shook his head in response and turned to stare at the ceiling looking suddenly stoic. 
Steve rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his arm to stare down at Eddie. "Come on, tell me what's going on in that pretty little head of yours." 
Eddie looked him directly in the eye and said, "That." 
Steve shook his head and tried not to stare at Eddie's lips. 
"You," Eddie tried again. "Do you mean what you say?" 
Steve's heart thudded in his chest. "I don't know what you mean," he lied. 
Eddie's hand shook as it made its way up to cup his cheek. "Yes, you do. Just tell me if I'm reading this wrong." 
He was reading it absolutely wrong, but fuck, he was reading him absolutely right. So, Steve didn't think. He just leaned down and gently kissed Eddie before he pulled back with a shaky breath to say, "You're not reading this wrong." 
Eddie pulled him in again, kissing him. Steve groaned into the kiss, feeling lightning practically spread through his body at the sensation. God, it felt so damn right. 
Steve quickly moved until his body was on top of Eddie's pressing into him at all the right places as they both deepened the kiss. Steve knew he wasn't supposed to be enjoying it, but he pushed the thought and guilt away.  
-:-:-:- 
Steve wipes the tear away from his cheek and takes a deep breath. "I wasn't thinking. And I made it so much worse." 
"Shit," Robin whispers, hugging her knees tightly. 
"After, I freaked the fuck out. I had this whole breakdown, and Eddie was trying so hard to understand. He thought I was just having this sexuality crisis, which I admittedly was, but I was mainly concerned about if Eddie ever found out if it was all a damn joke." 
"It wasn't a joke to either of you, Steve. You would've never gone that far if it was," Robin insists, hand landing gently on Steve's shoulder. 
Steve flinches away from her. "But it was all rooted in a joke." 
"Fuck," Robin says with wide eyes, "Steve, please tell me you didn't tell Tommy or anyone." 
In his heart, he knows that's the only good decision he made. "I didn't." 
Robin breathes a sigh of relief. "Thank god." 
"But what I did was maybe worse in hindsight." 
"How?" Robin asks, sounding horrified. 
-:-:-:- 
Steve walked through the halls on autopilot. He couldn't get any sleep the night before. It felt damn near impossible after his night with Eddie. 
"Steve buddy!" Tommy said loudly, clapping a rough hand on his back. "How's the freak treating you?" 
Steve shook his head and said, "It's over." 
Tommy walked in front of him and stopped him. "Woah there. You look like you've seen a damn ghost or something. What did the freak do to you? Did he try to kiss you or some shit?" Tommy asked with a sick smile on his face. 
"No," Steve stated and looked around the halls before he leaned in and said, "But I found out he's a Satanist. Like he does full-on rituals and shit." 
"No fucking way!" Tommy yelled excitedly, ready to spread the rumor like wildfire.  
"Yeah," Steve said. "I don't think he's queer though." 
"I'm surprised," Tommy laughed. "He looks at you like you're his bitch sometimes."  
"Just into Satanic shit," Steve insisted. 
Tommy got a wild look in his eye. "Maybe we should include that in the basketball hazing this year. First student to witness one of his rituals gets a damn prize." 
"Sure," Steve shrugged it off. "Bet it would scare that new guy Jason shitless." 
-:-:-:- 
"Oh fuck," Robin says, putting her hands over her mouth in shock. 
"I practically started the whole fucking manhunt with that damn rumor. I just thought it wouldn't be as bad as people finding out he was gay. And I somehow thought it would convince people that nothing happened between me and him," Steve confesses. 
"Okay," Robin says, staring off into space before shifting on the couch toward Steve. "Okay, you didn't start the manhunt. And Tommy's the one who spread the rumor, and Jason is the one who took it too far." 
"But Eddie would've graduated senior year if it wasn't for me." 
Robin's brows furrow as she shakes her head. "Wait what? How's that related?" 
Steve runs a hand through his hair. "I ended things the day the rumor spread. But I was such a fucking asshole about it, Robin. God, you're going to hate me." 
"Why would I hate you?" 
"Because it was a Tuesday. And instead of joining Eddie outside, I stayed with Tommy and Carol, looking around to find some girl to use to get over Eddie. Then, I spotted a girl with curly hair and big eyes that reminded me of him..." 
"Nancy," Robin fills in for him. 
Steve nods. "She was my fucking rebound." 
-:-:-:- 
Steve didn't eat lunch that day. He wasn't hungry. He felt fucking sick to his stomach as he looked around the cafeteria, wondering if Eddie would walk in at any moment looking for him. 
His eyes caught on curly hair, but realized it was too light to belong to Eddie. He leaned to the side and caught eyes with Nancy Wheeler. He shot her a wink before going back to pushing his food around his tray. It didn't make him feel better. 
In his last class with Eddie, he sat at the very front of the room, hating the view from there and the way people kept staring at his obvious seat change. He ducked his head when Eddie walked in late and took his seat in the back. 
He didn't take a single note that day. He could feel Eddie's eyes practically burn holes in the back of his head. 
The bell was the only thing that gave Steve relief that day, and he basically sprinted his way out of the building to his car. But he cursed as he dug around his backpack unable to find his damn keys. 
"Dropped these," Eddie's voice said behind him. 
Steve turned to him slowly and didn't make eye contact as he reached for the keys. 
Eddie snatched them back. "Why are you being weird? Is this because of what happened last night?" 
"Nothing happened last night," Steve insisted, lowering his voice so no one could hear him. 
Eddie's pained expression broke Steve's heart immediately. "Nothing?" 
"Nothing," Steve repeated. "And nothing will ever happen again, got it?" 
"Steve-" 
"I'm doing this for you," Steve lied. 
Eddie saw right through him as he always did. "No, you're fucking not." 
"Eddie-" 
"Is this freak bothering you, Steve?" Tommy said, suddenly rushing to his side. 
"No, I was just leaving," Eddie said, turning to stalk away. 
Tommy snorted at the sight and leaned into Steve's side to ask, "You're sure he's not gay?" 
"Shut up, Tommy," Steve said, pinching his nose as he got into his car. 
-:-:-:- 
"He started skipping classes after that. Shit, I practically never saw him in our English class. And he started taking a different route in the halls. God, I missed him so fucking bad." Steve looks down at his hands, flexing in anger at his past mistakes. "He skipped so often that they made him repeat senior year. The next year, we saw each other once when I was with Nancy, and after that it was like I never saw him again. Once again, he skipped and failed. If he would've graduated when he was supposed to, he wouldn't be in this damn mess. Fuck, he would still be alive." 
"He's still alive, Steve." 
Steve snaps, "Is he really? The doctor told us that he may never wake up, Robin. What if he never wakes up? What if I can never tell him this?" A small part of Steve wonders what would happen if he did wake up. Would he actually tell him? 
Steve shakes his head. He doesn't know, but he knows he can't lose him again. It hurt so damn much the first time; he couldn't do it again. "You know how I always say I have no idea what I want?" 
Robin nods. 
"I've lied. I know exactly what I want, and he's laying in that damn hospital bed. I thought maybe I could find someone like him, but I can't Robin. No matter how many dates I go on, no one is like Eddie." 
Robin moves closer to him and wraps her arms around him. 
Steve feels more tears trail down his face as he leans into Robin. "You know, in the upside down, he gave me this bullshit speech about how I've changed, and I'm actually a good dude. Then, he told me something about how I should get Nancy back and it was like a damn dagger in my heart. He told me that she dove right into that water and he wouldn't have done the same in normal circumstances. As if he was trying to tell me that I was right to choose Nancy over him. It's such bullshit." 
Robin doesn't say anything, just pulls him in tighter. 
"He has to wake up, Robin. He has to," Steve wipes his eyes and stands up. "But we have to get back to that hospital, okay? I'll tell you eventually why I can't leave his side, but I just can't today." 
Robin nods and stands up. "Let's go then." 
-:-:-:- 
"If you died today, would you have regrets?" 
Steve laughed. "That's such a random question." 
Eddie smiled up at him. "Come on, answer the question." 
Steve knew that he would have too many regrets to ever be able to list. But he asked, "Would I die right here, right now?" 
Eddie shrugged. "Sure." 
"If I died with you at my side, then I think I would have no regrets. What about you?" 
Eddie smiled up at him sincerely, considering the question for a few moments. "As long as you were by my side, I would be okay." 
1K notes · View notes
atskiruma · 1 year
Text
the maid cafe at the school festival
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expl: you offered to volunteer at the maid cafe being held in room 3-2 when you realized they needed more employees, you and your friend were having a great time until someone you knew walked in with their friends
a/n: i'm now going to begin taking requests for the polls that are found at the bottom of these ff's, feel free to send them in and i'll include them in this ff once i receive 3!
requests for polls
masterlist
second person writing no pronouns used
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"I'm really sorry to ask you this, but could you two come to help us out? We really need the added assistance and few people are willing to do it..." The committee president said, looking feverishly ill from the amount of stress they were taking on at the school festival.
Before you could pipe up your opinion, your friend had already beat you to it and was offering to help out class 3-2 with their festival project.
You sighed, knowing this would be either embarrassing or publicly humiliating. Your friend got up and began following the committee president, which you did seconds later after you recollected your thoughts.
They took you into the classroom of 3-2, which was decorated with streamers at the front doors and tables set up like a cafe. You know what they were doing beforehand since it seemed to be the talk of the school for a short while. The people already working at cleaning the tables smiled at you and your friend, happy that at least someone had come.
"Here, you'll be wearing this for the time you're here, you can wear it over your clothes or you can wear the full outfit in the back." One of the workers said, it looked like she was holding the whole place together.
Your friend grabbed your hand and let out a quick, "Let's go," before walking into the closet area of the classroom. They began putting on the outfit they preferred, and you did the same, knowing you'd be here for a while just from how much they were beaming at the opportunity given to them.
In reality, it didn't go half as bad as you thought, you were having a lot of fun! And it seemed like the customers coming in were having fun too. The food was really good and the drinks were pretty easy to learn.
You heard the door open again and turned around to greet whoever came in, seeing as you were closest to it.
"Hey, come on in, how many will you be having to-"
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Tighnari looked shocked when he saw it was you working here, and more shocked when he saw what you were wearing. You two knew each other from working well in science class as partners. The crush you had on him was a bit big, which was why you were so embarrassed for him to see you like this.
Your friend turned the corner and put a hand on your shoulder, smiling at the 3 boys who had walked in. "Hey, you guys! Come on over, I've got a table over here that's free." Leading them to the table closer to the windows in the back. You watched them walk away and tried to cool your face from the redness it got at that moment.
You weren't the one who was serving them, your friend did it for you. All you did was watch from the distance here and there to see what they were doing. What you didn't notice was Tighnari kept sending glances at you the whole time.
Cyno also seemed to notice this and nudged Aether next to him. The two boys looked as Tighnari took a sip of his drink but also glanced towards your back at the front of the room.
When your friend returned with the food, Cyno spoke, "Could you get that person to come over here real quick?" Tighnari lowered his eyebrows at his friend in an irritated matter. Your friend looked where Cyno was pointing and smiled, nodding and telling them they'd be right back.
When you finally walked up to them, Tighnari avoided your eyes while Cyno smiled brightly up at you.
"My friend here was wondering if he could get your number?" Cyno said while pointing toward the embarrassed green-haired boy. Tighnari looked up at you, silent, and you smiled while taking the napkin on their table and writing down your number.
Aether looked shocked, Cyno smirked, and Tighnari blushed even more when you handed it to him and walked off.
Both boys patted him on the back when they left, and a 20-dollar tip with your name on it was left on the table in Tighnari's handwriting.
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The only reason that Xiao came in the first place was that Aether suggested the idea, Ganyu wanted to come along, and Venti practically dragged him from his spot in the tofu booth.
That was when the person to greet them was none other than you, Xiao's crush for the 3 years they'd attended high school. His face was flat and empty when he saw you, masking the absolute embarrassment in him when you saw he came to a place like this.
Venti chatted you up the whole time you served their table, and Xiao sat closest to the window and said nothing while he stared outside of it. Ganyu was a sweetheart and asked if there were any vegan meals being served in the nicest manner possible. Aether was also very nice and asked if the chefs could make something last minute for his sister before they left.
But Xiao? Quiet as a mouse, you even looked over at him every time they called you over to their table. Sometimes, they didn't even call you over to order, they just wanted to chat with you.
It worried you a little bit, you knew that he was normally quiet, but he seemed even more on edge today. It changed when you walked over again on your own will seeing as you had nobody else to serve for a bit.
"Xiao? Are you alright?" You asked with a worried expression on your face. The sound of your voice calling his name caused him to nearly shoot out of his chair. Venti, Ganyu, and Aether also looked toward their flustered friend. All the poor boy could do was nod and keep looking out the window, his face beginning to match the half-eaten caramel apple on Venti's plate.
"He's just shy, right Xiao!" Venti said while patting him on the back obnoxiously. It was like you were staring at a statue with how stiff he was in his chair. And it continued to be that way the whole time they stayed.
Feeling awful for him, when the other 3 were busy talking to another worker there, you snuck around and placed a small plate of almond tofu in front of him. His eyes immediately shot to where your arms were placed on either side of him while you reached over behind him.
"Sorry that you're feeling this way Xiao," You said while patting him on the back a bit. His face darkened in blush, but a small smile was evident while you walked away to keep doing your work.
When you returned to the empty table, unable to send them off because it got so busy, you saw the empty tofu plate and a 5-dollar bill with Xiao's number underneath it.
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Heizou was more interested in staying where the puzzle-themed booths took place, but with how persistent his friends were he finally agreed and came along for the ride.
His shock was not as exaggerated as the other boys were, he was happier to see a familiar face in a place like this. Now, Heizou was definitely a little surprised to see you working here out of all the fun booths and cafes surrounding the school, but he wasn't one to judge.
It wasn't until you were the one to be serving them, did he finally put more attention onto you. It wasn't like he didn't know who you were, his crush on you lingered for a while now ever since the two of you partnered up for math this year.
It just seemed like seeing you in such an outfit made him pay even more attention to you, so much that he didn't even listen to what his friends had to say because he was so busy staring at you across the room.
You had a lot of people's attention that was for sure, practically being handed tips left and right as you walked by the tables you previously served. His jealousy boiled a bit in his stomach, but he tried to ignore that feeling and keep enjoying the time spent with his friends.
Kazuha even asked him if he was alright at one point, seeing his friend look a little irritated in a direction he couldn't quite catch. But Heizou just shook it off as he was a little weirded out being there. Which was a lie, he liked how lively it was and how kind the workers were.
Heizou finally reached his breaking point when he saw someone try and flirt with you while you served another table. He got up from his seat and excused himself from his friends with a smile. Walking over to you with an irritated look on his face and standing behind you with his arms crossed.
The person flirting with you seemed to stop talking, and you smiled in a confusing manner before turning around and seeing Heizou really close to you.
"Oh! Heizou! What's the matter?" You said with a tilt of your head at his appearance. His eyes were still glaring at the person in front of you two, but a couple seconds later he looked down at you with the softest gaze and smile.
"I'm alright, I was wondering if you could come back over to our table for a bit." His words made you smile at him, lightly patting his bulging muscular shoulders that were tense from the other person's move on you.
"You could have just waved me over! Come on, let's go." Smiling at him before turning to walk back to Kazuha and the others. He gave the person one last nasty look before he turned to you with a kind gaze and followed you.
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Alhaitham was not shocked, nor surprised to see you here. He was more interested in just sitting down to chat up a conversation than anything else. Kaveh suggested they get a bite to eat, and this was the closest thing to them.
Alhaitham knew you, sure, but he wasn't in the same grade as you, being in the grade above and only really seeing you when you'd be walking around the school with your friend or attending school events like this one.
That's why he was so interested in finally getting a chance to speak to you more. Seeing as the crush he held for a while that was only flamed with short glances in the hallway and mentions of your name could finally ignite more.
And ignite it did, you were really nice to them the whole time and even helped the 2 boys navigate the slightly confusing menu that the committee leader put together. You asked if they had allergies if they preferred different seating since the sun was blaring a little bit into the room, etc.
Kaveh even noticed that his friend seemed to smile more when you came around to ask how everything was. A smirk led onto his face when he realized it was good bait to tease Alhaitham. Saying something embarrassing in order to brighten up his face and get him blushing just as you were rounding the corner to check on them again.
"How is- Oh my! Alhaitham are you okay? You don't have a cold do you?" You said before instinctively reaching down to press a hand to his forehead. The small action blew up his face in a stream of red while Kaveh nearly fell out of his chair laughing.
"I'm fine, really," Alhaitham spoke with a smaller voice than his usual confident one. Kaveh continued to laugh at his friend who almost never lost his cool while you kept asking if he needed anything to help.
"Please let me know if there's anything I can get you." Your worried tone made it even worse for him, the poor boy was shifting in his seat from how embarrassed he was.
When you finally walked away, the glare that sent Kaveh's way from Alhaitham was the icing on the cake. The blonde kept mocking his friends' small tone when replying to you. At one point, you even walked by to serve another table and placed a glass of water next to him. Which he couldn't even smile to appreciate before his eyes caught Kaveh's cheeky ones.
A note was left before they left, from Alhaitham, apologizing for the events that happened, along with two 20-dollar bills. You smiled looking down at the note and folded it to save in your pocket for later. Why had you never paid more attention to him before?
4K notes · View notes
sicbaby · 11 months
Text
Keep Quiet
ethan landry x fem!reader
contents: 18+ smut, established relationship, subby!virgin!ethan, dom!reader, handjob, public (kinda?) sex
authors note: hi!! this is my first time posting smut publicly so i’m nervous… i’m also hella rusty with writing so i hope it’s not too bad lol. hope u guys like it!! <3
It was movie night tonight at Sam and Tara’s. The whole gang would be there, except for Sam and Danny, as they had chosen to go out on a date. You had just started dating Ethan a few months prior to now, upon meeting him at the beginning of the school year when Chad introduced the two of you. He was the perfect boyfriend. smart, tall, handsome.., a bit awkward, but you loved that about him.
Everyone was sleeping over that night, and you decided that this would be the perfect opportunity to finally make a move on Ethan. He’s a virgin, and although you two are a couple, he still gets super nervous around you and definitely isn’t confident enough to make the first move. You think it’s cute, though. He’d do anything for you.
Movie night was just beginning a little after 8 pm on a cold and windy Friday night. Chad and Tara were putting together snacks in the kitchen, Mindy and Anika were at the dinner table, and you and Ethan were sat on the couch. Soon enough, the other couples had joined you in the living room. Mindy and Anika took their place all the way at the other end of the couch, while Tara and Chad opted for the floor. This left you and Ethan in a secluded corner far away from the other couples. perfect, you thought.
Tara was picking the movie tonight, and she put on the horror movie, It Follows. you silently roll your eyes at your best friend. You’ve seen this movie countless times… so you knew you were going to get bored, quickly. Nevertheless, you watched silently as Tara turned off all of the lights in the apartment, leaving the TV as the only source of light. You snuggled up to Ethan, his arm wrapped around the back of the couch, around your shoulders. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he smiles at you sweetly before turning his attention back to the TV.
It’s about 20 minutes into the movie when you really start getting bored. You let out a loud sigh, though it doesn’t catch Ethan’s attention. You and Ethan are covered by a blanket, and an idea pops into your head. Something that will surely reverse your boredom. You place your small hand on Ethan’s thigh, a little higher than normal. This catches his attention.
“You okay?” He asks, his voice a quiet whisper.
“Mhm!” You hum back, happily.
He just smiles at you and returns back to the movie.
You have a devilish grin on your face as you start slowing caressing Ethan’s thigh. Ethan’s breathing speeds up slightly, and his eyes dart to where your hand would be under the blanket for only a moment before he turns back to the movie. He leans against you a little more, and pulls you closer. He smiles again.
“What? Not enjoying the movie?” he whispers, his breath tickling your ear.
This seems to rile you up a bit, seeing how innocent your boyfriend was, and how close he had gotten to you. You just smile back at him, and scoot even closer, if possible, your fingers now beginning to crawl up towards his clothed crotch.
Ethan’s breathing accelerates again with every passing second, but he says nothing about it. His heart speeds up as he senses your hand getting closer and closer, and he feels his face burning red with embarrassment. He blushes as his breathing gets heavier yet, his eyes fixed to the screen. His lips brush against the top of your head as he breathes heavily.
You reach the top of his thigh, staying there for a moment, before boldly cupping his hard dick with your entire hand. Ethan gasps and shifts in his seat with a shocked expression.
“What… what are you doing?” he whispers.
“You can’t- we can’t-… do this right now…” He blushes brightly, pulling his hands up to cover his face in embarrassment and shyness.
“Maybe later… we can…” He blushes even further than before. He can’t bring himself to say it, but it’s very clear what he’s implying.
“Oh. Well, why not now? Aren’t you in the mood, baby?” you whisper. “It Follows doesn’t turn you on?” You tease.
Ethan lets out a breathy laugh. He doesn’t seem upset by your teasing. “I mean… it has its moments…” He blushes again, his eyes still fixed to the screen. “Not that I need to tell you about that kind of stuff, right?” He glances at you from out of the corner of his eye again, growing nervous. “Maybe that’s what I’ll do tonight…” He mutters, “You know, when the- when the movie is over…” Ethan implies that he doesn’t want you to continue your sinful actions in front of your friends, but that won’t stop you.
“Yeah, let’s do that. but for now I wanna have my fun…” you whisper. At that, you remove your hand from his hard on and slowly unzip his jeans with your index finger.
“Are you… are you gonna do what I think you’re going to do?” He says sheepishly, a slight nervous laugh escaping his lips. His face is still bright red, and he can feel how hot and hard he is right now.
“Hmm?” You hum back, playing dumb.
“…Do you want to do… that?” He whispers, a dumbfounded look on his face. He looks back at you, in a trance. He couldn’t believe it. Yes, you’re his girlfriend, but you’re also the hottest girl he’s ever laid eyes on.. and you? You! You wanted to jerk him off, right then and there? He was in heaven. As he looks into your eyes for a moment, he watches you nod.
“You do?” He says excitedly, sounding incredibly sincere as his heart races.
You giggle at how eager he is, but stop yourself for a second.
“You have to promise to be quiet, though, baby. You don’t want them to hear us, do you?” You nod to where your friends are sitting, looking deep into Ethan’s puppy dog eyes.
“Yeah... that’s right.” He gets serious, but you can see in his eyes how excited he is.. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep it quiet.” He says quietly, pulling himself a little closer.
After fully unzipping his jeans, you place your hand over his boxers, feeling him for just a moment. Ethan’s breath hitches at your touch, feeling more of you due to the thin layer left over his cock. His eyes start to roll back in his head, and you barely even touched him yet.
“O-Oh shit…” He says quietly, barely audible over the loud movie. He lets out a soft moan, biting his lip as he tries to contain his excitement.
You giggle again. “Shhh, baby.” You whisper as you start moving your fingers over his clothed dick, feeling his length.
Ethan tries not to make any noise, but he keeps letting out soft, barely audible noises, his body burning red. His entire body is tensing up, and he can feel how painfully hard he is. “Mm…” He moans quietly. You quickly shoot him a warning glance.
“I can’t help it, I’m sorry…” He says sheepishly.
You ignore his moaning this time, and gasp as you feel a wet spot on his boxers.
“Look at that… so wet already. That’s so cute.” You tease him.
“S-Shut up!” He mutters under his breath, desperation growing on his face. “S-Stop teasing me!” His words are shaky with anticipation, and he starts rocking in his seat, trying to create some friction against your hand.
It feels good for him at first, and then you stop moving your hand altogether, which causes Ethan to really work for his pleasure now. His breath hitches again, and he whimpers louder than he meant to. He looks over at you, worried. He catches you smiling at him mischievously.
“You’re so… mean..” he whispers, biting his lip to try and stifle his moan. “Please..” He begins to beg.
You start to feel bad for the poor boy. You didn’t want to tease him too much, knowing that this is the first time anyone other than himself has touched him like this. So, you reach into the hole in his boxers and pull out his long, hard cock. You can’t see it under the blanket, but you can feel the veins running up and down his length, making you grow wet just by touching him. You start to slowly move your hand up and down his hard cock, finally giving him the pleasure he was so desperate for.
“Oh…” His voice is weak, and he can feel the heat building inside him. ”Oh, that feels so…good.” He whimpers again as actual tears begin to form in his eyes. He doesn’t seem to notice, as he’s completely distracted by what’s happening.
You want to please him so bad at this point, but you can’t help but tease him one last time. You reach the tip of his cock and give it a hard squeeze.
Ethan jumps and bites his lip, trying to hide a loud moan but ultimately failing.
“W-What was that for!?... You’re so mean…” He says again, more tears threatening to slip out. He looks down at his hands, which were shaking slightly from what was happening. “Please… we’re going to get caught!” He begs quietly, glancing around. He takes in a deep breath to try and steady himself. “I-I don’t know if I can keep quiet…”
You giggle even more, you really are evil.
“Well you’re gonna have to keep quiet. ‘Cause I want you to cum… right here, right now.”
Ethan takes a deep breath, his face turning bright red. You start to stroke him again, a little bit faster, spreading his wetness all over his long cock.
“M-mm…” This makes his breathing become heavy again, his heart racing at an incredible pace. He takes in another long breath. For a moment, he wonders whether he should tell you to stop for good. Instead, he lets out a soft moan. “Please…” He doesn’t even know what’s he’s begging for at this point.
You continue stroking him fast and hard, paying extra attention to his swollen head, squeezing it every now and then.
Ethan lets out a soft cry this time, his breath shaking. His eyes are rolled back in his head. He can feel his mind starting to go blank, and his vision starts to grow fuzzy.
“Oh, y/n…” He mutters.
“Yes, baby?” you respond back.
Ethan’s heart is beating out of his chest. He tries and fails to form words. He bites his bottom lip in anticipation, unable to express anything except soft moans in response, his face burning bright red.
As he is unable to respond, you assume he must be close to reaching his high.
“Are you close, e?”
The words catch in his throat, but he nods quietly. “Yeah…” He whines silently, his body shaking even more. His breath grows heavier.
“Oh, god… keep going… please…” He whispers, his voice barely audible. He tries once again to steady himself, but fails.
“Come on sweet boy, cum for me. Cum all over my hand, e.” You urge him on, keeping a steady, fast pace.
Ethan shakes his head, tears starting to form in his eyes again.
“N-no… I can’t…” He mutters silently, changing his mind once he realizes he won’t be able to keep quiet once he reaches his orgasm, it feels too good now… his face is burning bright red in embarrassment. He looks down from the ceiling, his breathing getting louder and the heat building until he’s practically shaking.
“I-I... I... I can’t…” He says, a small whine escaping his lips. “I can’t do it... not now…” He mutters, biting his lip. “Later, though. I promise…” He mutters again, wiping away his tears. “Not now…”
You don’t know how nobody has noticed a crying, shaking Ethan on the other side of the couch, but if you two have gotten this far, you sure as hell aren’t stopping now. You grit your teeth a little, starting to squeeze his cock even harder.
“Yes, now!” you whisper-yell.
Ethan gasps, his hands balling up into fists as his breathing is uncontrollable.
“You-you have to stop…” He says quietly this time, his head rolling all over the place.
“I-I can’t hold it in…” He begs, his muscles shaking from the effort.
“Please, y/n… I can’t do it…” He whines, a pleading tone to his voice.
“Stop…” He whines, his face bright red. “I can’t..” His voice breaks slightly.
You feel bad again as tears start to stream down his face. Your poor boy, it’s way too much for him, but you know he’ll feel so good once he finally releases.
“Let go, baby… Come on… Let go for me, sweet boy. Don’t you wanna make me happy?” You pout.
Ethan’s eyes fix onto you, a look of absolute terror in his eyes.
“Y-Yes! Yes, I do…” He practically yells, the panic very visibly evident in his voice. He wants to be a good boy for you. His hands are shaking, and the heat is building up inside him. A soft whimper escapes his lips, and he can feel himself losing control.
“I…” He whines, his voice cracking slightly as he speaks, his entire body tensing up.
“I think I... I think I’m gonna…” He mutters, his face burning bright red.
Suddenly, hot spurts of cum shoot out of his poor, aching and abused cock. Little whimpers and moans fall from his pretty pink lips uncontrollably.
“Nghh- Fuck…. Holy shit… Haa…” You watch his face contort in pleasure and continue stroking him through his high, a lot slower now.
“Good boy…” You say once he slowly comes down, knowing he can hear you properly now.
Ethan’s face is bright red, and he lets out an astonished groan. His head slumps down in embarrassment, and he takes a few deep breaths. He shakes a little as he tries to calm himself.
“Oh, my god… that felt incredible…” He whispers, his heart rate starting to slow down.
“Thank you…” He mutters, resting his head against your shoulder. His face is still red, but he looks a little bit more calm than he did a moment ago.
“How… how can I ever repay you?”
You smile, thinking it’s sweet that he immediately thought of you and your pleasure.
“You can repay me later, sweet boy.” You say as you remove your hand from his now soft cock. You bring your hand to your face, and lick his spent off of your fingers.
Ethan’s eyes grow wide when he sees you licking your fingers and he gasps. He waits until you’re done before speaking again.
“I… I uh… I can’t believe you just did that…” He says sheepish, blushing brightly. “You’re disgusting…” He says, but he doesn’t sound like he means it. He laughs again.
“And evil…” He mutters with a grin.
“I can’t wait to see what else you’ll make me do…” He whispers, biting his lip, the poor boy got hard again just by seeing you lick his cum off of your fingers.
“Oh… just you wait, baby.”
2K notes · View notes
marvelfilth · 8 months
Text
Off the deep end 4 (18+)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Pairing: ghostface!Sam Carpenter x f!reader
Warnings: smut, fingering, strap on sex, praise, r gets tied up, pet names, spanking (like once), canon typical violence, blood, stabbing
Summary: "Take off my mask"
A/n: ...I'm sorry
Masterlist
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Ghostface sits on the loveseat, her legs crossed and her posture entirely relaxed as she playfully taps her knife against the glass of your coffee table.
You take a second to gather your courage and lunge.
She's too gobsmacked to react, and in less than a second you have her pinned against the back of the loveseat, a knife pressing against her neck.
"The bodega. Was it you? Because if it was, I'll gut you myself," you growl.
You feel her shaky exhale before she drops her knife to the floor, turning you around in a split second and pinning you down with her weight. Your knife is still dangerously close to her neck, but you don't think she cares, with the way she grabs your waist possessively.
"Fuck," she breathes out, caressing your waist.
"Let me go," you hiss, pushing against her chest with your other hand.
She uses this moment to push your hand away from her throat, clutching it in her strong grip, your knife dangling uselessly between your fingertips.
"There's no way I'm letting you go, baby. No fucking way." She's breathless, her chest heaving heavily as she pushes you deeper into the cushions.
"I'm not your baby," you growl, trying to push her away. "You think you can just show up here after almost killing my friends? I don't care what kind of vigilante bullshit you've got going on, they're off limits." You buckle against her, growing red in the face when she doesn't move an inch.
She tilts her head, seemingly taking you in. She stays silent way too long for your liking, just breathing heavily and observing you, shifting her grip on your wrist. The action reminds you that your other hand is still around her shoulder, clutching it hard enough to leave half moons on her skin even through multiple layers of fabric.
"Go ahead," she whispers, "try."
You wonder how the fuck does she know what you're about to do.
Still, your hand moves slowly, and you don't dare look away from the black hollow eyes of the mask, swallowing when you finally come in contact with the heated skin of her neck. You don't waste another moment and grip, cutting off her airway. She expected it, clearly, but she still lets you send both of you tumbling to the floor. She lands with a huff, your thighs straddling her hips, and now that your roles are reversed you feel a sense of power over her, no matter how fleeting it might be.
Her pulse is erratic against your fingers, but she stays still, not moving an inch, and speaks up, "I came here to punish you, you know? I told you to stay home. Our home." You freeze, gaping at her. "I thought you learned your lesson that first time, but no, you decide to play hero and go off on your own in the middle of the fucking night," she growls, easily throwing you off her body. You sit on the floor, not daring to move as she removes her voice changer.
There's no need for that - you already know who's behind the mask.
"Take off my mask," Sam orders and you tremble at the commanding tone, hesitantly reaching up to remove the plastic.
There's no color in her eyes, only black of her pupils. She's panting, her expression pure lust. She looks you up and down slowly, gaze lingering on the knife between your fingers. You let it fall on the floor with a dull thump and she smiles dangerously, lifting her eyes. "Now take off your clothes."
You whimper, clumsily following the order as she drinks you up with her eyes, kneeled on the floor. When you're left naked she rummages in the pockets off her robe, pulling something out before carelessly shrugging it off and throwing it to the side.
"Come here," she pats her lap, leaning back against the foot of the couch. You do so quickly, stifling a whimper when your core brushes against her leg. She pulls you into a bruising kiss, all teeth and bite as your hips start rocking on her thigh, chasing pleasure. You grip the cushions behind her back, arching in her hold before you feel her push your hands away and lead them behind your back. She tries them up with something silky and smooth, probably a scarf, tugging to check if it's tight enough.
"So you don't jump me again," she chuckles and you grow embarrassingly wet, stifling a whimper at her degrading tone. "I only wanted to scare you that night when I visited you for the first time. Wanted to make sure you listen to me next time, but there you were, in a fucking towel. I wanted you for so long and you were right there, ready for me to take." She pushes on your hips, and you throw your head back, letting out a loud moan when you feel a bulge in her pants. "But this time… you pinned me down, put a knife to my throat. Remember what you said?" She husks, cupping the back of your head and forcing you to look at her. You nod dazedly, nails dig into your palms, trying to keep in your pathetic whimpers. She plants her hands on your cheeks. "Say it again."
You close your eyes and arch into her body, your breasts practically in her face. "I said I'd gut you- not you, I- I'd kill the person who tried to hurt you and Tara."
She lets out a deep breath that sounds like a moan and reaches behind you. "You'd kill for me?" She pants.
You nod against her lips. "Yes."
She growls, a sound so deep and primal it makes you shudder, and shows you the mask. "Then I think you should put this on, don't you?" You don't dare move an inch, watching as she puts the mask on your face with hunger in her eyes. Her thigh pushes between your legs, making you whimper. "Sam- please…"
"Perfect." She chuckles, trailing a hand trailing over your breasts, slowly, teasingly. "You love it, don't you? That's why you never said anything. I killed everyone who tried to hurt you and you fucking love it."
"Yes. Fuck, yes, Sam," you gasp grinding on her thigh. You can't take your eyes off her. Sweat drips down the valleys between her breasts, disappearing behind her thin tank top, pulling your attention to her perky nipples. You'd kill for a chance to taste them.
"My dirty girl, fucking perfect for me." She leans down and places long kisses down your neck, savoring the taste of your skin. Your breasts brush and you arch into her, chasing the feeling, but she merely chuckles before forcing your legs open and plunging two fingers inside with no warning. Your hands jerk and you hiss when the movement makes the scarf tighten, hurting your wrists. Sam chuckles into your neck before biting down, leaving a deep purple mark as you struggle to hold back a moan. "Don't," she hisses, "don't you dare hold back." She thrusts into you mercilessly, tugging your nipple between her teeth.
You want to throw your arms around her shoulders and hide your face in her hair, pulling her incredibly close, but your hands lay limp behind your back and the mask on your face makes it impossible to feel the softness of her hair. You look at her through the dark hollows, gasping for breath when she adds a third finger, almost falling back on the floor, trying to ride her, moving your hips up and down.
You feel pressure building in your lower belly and you tell Sam you're close, moaning her name as she fastens her pace before she abruptly pulls out, leaving you to whine uselessly.
She gets up from the floor with you in her arms and throws you over her shoulder, heading to your bedroom. Her palm settles on your ass, squeezing possessively as she shoulders your door before carelessly throwing you on the bed, making you bounce on the mattress. There's shuffling of fabric before she quickly unties your wrists. You sigh, flexing the strained muscles, and then you're rolled on your back, moaning when you see her fully naked. You let out a heavy breath, looking at Sam towering over you, her abs clenched as her fingers wrap around her strap. You unconsciously spread your legs, shuffling higher to settle on the pillows.
"Hands on the headboard," she orders, picking up the scarf from the floor. You put your hands over your head and she makes quick work of tying them up again, giving your nipple a painful squeeze as her hand slides down your torso to your dripping pussy.
"Please, Sam," you plead, grinding on her palm.
She hums and straddles your thigh, her sex flush against the muscle, smearing wetness. She grinds on you messily, losing herself in pleasure, and you're left to marvel at the sight. Her abs clench each time her pussy slides over your flesh, chest rising rapidly. She closes her eyes and throws her head back, moaning loudly. You whimper, trying to find friction against her thigh. She looks down at you in ecstasy, breathing through her open mouth as she messily humps your leg.
"Fuck, you look so good," you whimper, thinking you could come just from watching her. She chuckles lowly, coating you in her arousal and her strap bumps against your clit, making your hips jerk.
"You want it?" She taunts, halting her movements and positioning herself between your parted thighs. Your legs wrap around her waist, pulling her flush against you before you answer. "I want you," you whimper, feeling the tip of her cock nudge against your entrance.
"You have me, baby," she says, before snapping her hips forward, burying the thick length in your wet heat. "How does that feel, hm?"
You moan, hips buckling in her hold. "So good, Sam, you feel so good."
She hums and starts thrusting slowly, placing fleeting kisses over your chest before she leans back, her fingers wrapping around your ankles to throw them over her shoulders. "Keep them open for me," she says and returns her hands to your hips, pressing you into the bed, picking up the pace.
She mercilessly pounds into your pussy, the wet slapping sound echoing through your room. You moan, throwing your head back, making the mask skew a little before it's ripped off your face. "Want to see your pretty face when you come," she breathes, pressing on the bulge on your lower belly. "You're taking my cock so well, princess. Such a good girl." Her praises reach your ears, but you barely make them out amidst mind-blowing pleasure.
"S-sam! Fuck, I'm close," you moan, helplessly tugging on the restraints. Sam starts rubbing your clit and you feel your orgasm build up, making you arch your back off the bed.
"You're gonna scream for me, baby," she pants, fastening her pace, her strap burying in your tight cunt to the hilt, her thumb playing with your swollen nub of nerves.
You come with a loud cry of her name, your walls clenching around the silicone cock as she continues pounding into you at an animalistic pace, drilling you into the bed. Your bed shakes, the headboard steadily smashing against the wall as she makes it her mission to lead you to another orgasm. Your tears roll down your cheeks, blurring the sight of her lust filled eyes, looking down at you like she's about to consume you whole.
"Such a good pussy, all mine to use," she purrs, throwing your legs off her shoulders and rolling you onto your side, the changing of the angle making her strap reach deeper into you. Her hand settles over your thigh, gripping possessively before she lets go to land a slap on your ass, her other hand pressing down on the side of your head.
"Yours, a-all yours ah-," you cry out, feeling your climax approach, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge.
She leans over your body to whisper in your ear. "You're mine. Say it."
Your eyes roll to the back of your head as she buries her strap in you again and again, hitting your sensitive spot. "Yours, I'm yours."
She bites down on the curve of your shoulder to hide her moan as she reaches her high, taking you over the edge with her. Your vision goes white, your cunt clenching around her cock, your wetness coating the sheets under you.
She slumps beside you, lazily untying the scarf and massaging your arms before slowly pulling out and pushing you to lay on top of her. "We're not done yet, baby," she whispers into your hair and pulls you into a deep kiss.
×××
A piercing ringing sound wakes you up, making you roll out of Sam's warm embrace and fall on the floor in a heap of sheets with a dull thump. You groan, sending her a finger when she snorts and finally picks up her phone. Your carpeted floor feels too fluffy to get up and move back to bed, your eyes falling shut as Sam speaks with her sister. You slowly drift off, teetering on the edge of consciousness when Sam picks you up and gently lowers you back on the bed, pressing a chaste kiss on the corner of your mouth before disappearing behind the bathroom door. You burrow into her pillow, the sound of running water lulling you back to sleep.
Next time you wake up to gentle caresses, smiling, not fully awake yet, but not asleep either. You feel her lips stretch in a smile when she starts kissing the side of your neck, her breath tickling, making you giggle.
You finally open your eyes when she calls out your name, coaxing you to get up. You pout and try to tug her back to bed, but she narrowly escapes your grip, chuckling when you frown.
"It's past noon, time to get up. Tara's been worried out of her mind," she says and checks her phone when it dings, groaning as she reads the text. "They're all waiting back home. I hate these kids sometimes."
You snort, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. "I bet Mindy made everyone come cause she has some theory to share."
She laughs quietly as she types a response, and looks back at you. "Breakfast is almost ready and you better be dressed when I come back. And don't even try covering these up." She gestures to your neck with her forefinger and you instinctively reach up to touch your sore skin.
She's out of the door before you could complain, leaving you to stew in now cold sheets. You don't test your luck though, and rush to take a shower and dress when you hear her in the kitchen.
You get ready in record time, walking into the kitchen right when she starts putting plates on the table. Your mouth waters when a delicious smell hits your nose, and when she pulls out a chair for you, you rush to her side to press a kiss on her cheek. "Thank you," you whisper.
She hums, pushing your hair to one side when you sit and presses a kiss to your neck. "My girlfriend deserves the best," she breathes, making you shudder.
You find the strength to object. "You didn't even ask if I want to be your girlfriend."
She pauses, frowning. "You don't?"
You bite back a smile at her confused expression, pulling her down for a proper kiss. "It doesn't hurt to ask."
She huffs, and walks around the table to take a seat, looking you right in the eye as she replies. "Do you want to be my girlfriend?"
"Yes," you mumble, growing embarrassingly red, and dive in the food, biting back a moan at the taste. She hums in approval, swiping some sauce for the corner of your mouth. "Good girl."
×××
You ask the question that's been nagging at your mind for the past few days when you're getting ready to leave. "So… there are at least two, right?"
"Hm?"
"Ghostface. One called and the other one attacked you at the bodega."
She shrugs, "I guess."
You frown, noting her lack of reaction. "When I got the call they said they knew your secret."
She walks up to you and puts her hands around your waist. "It doesn't matter. They still haven't told anyone and that means they want to deal with me themselves."
You nod. It makes sense, but you're still worried. The possibility of her dying or going behind bars makes your skin crawl.
"Hey," she caresses your cheek, "it'll be okay, I promise, just… you're with me, right?"
Your lips press against her palm. "Always."
You enter the building an hour later, darting inside quickly, Sam checking every corner before she lets you pass. You walk quietly, heading for the elevators when a man stops in your way, smiling at Sam. You expect her to ignore him or maybe even push him out of the way, but she rolls her eyes good-naturally and greets him with a hug, a smile pulling at the corner of her mouth.
"Who's this?" You ask, eyes darting between Sam and the man, and you decide you don't like him at all.
He looks… adequate, tall and obviously muscular, his eyes bright blue. He also looks dangerous, like a guy you'd avoid at parties. But then again Sam looks dangerous too, so you probably shouldn't judge him too quickly.
"Danny. Our neighbor," she introduces you and he smiles, extending his hand.
You take it, his fingers wrapping around yours with gentle, but firm squeeze. You mutter your name, looking him up and down. You've never seen him before and you've spent weeks at Sam's place by now.
"I don't think I've ever seen you before."
He chuckles and rubs the back of his head. "I'm not surprised. I work at night, sleep through the day."
You nod, feeling Sam's eyes on you. "Yeah, that must be it," you mumble.
She nudges you to the elevators, bidding Danny goodbye. You follow her, chewing on your lip.
No, you decide, you definitely don't like him.
"What was that?" Sam asks with a teasing glint in her eyes. "Jealous?"
You scoff. "You wish."
She hums in agreement, but sports a smug smile all the way to her front door. Tara greets you both with a hug the second you step inside the apartment, eyeing you worriedly. Sam shrugs her off with a calming smile, urging her into the kitchen. You bite back a smile when Tara begrudgingly follows, muttering something about Sam and her stress cooking.
Mindy and Anika are cuddled up on the couch, too busy gossiping about their new professor to notice you. Chad gives you a small wave, scooting to give you space to sit. The hug he gives you is warm and reassuring and you place a chaste kiss on his cheek, noting the absence of Quinn and Ethan.
"Quinn's in her room and Ethan has Econ," he mumbles, noticing your questioning look. You nod, and relax against his shoulder, allowing yourself to bask in the moment.
Sam and Tara chatter as they cook something, judging by the smell it's Sam's famous grilled cheese. Your mouth waters even though you ate not that long ago, remembering the taste. You sneak a glance in their direction and see them laughing. The shorter girl shoves Sam hard, but your girlfriend doesn't budge, eyes rolling at the sisters' antics.
You wish you could stay like this forever.
Mindy finally looks away from her girlfriend, eyebrows jumping up when she sees you. "Where have you been?"
You groan, feeling the way Chad's shoulders shake with laughter. "She won't let it go, just roll with it," he whispers.
"She was with me, Mindy, don't even start," Sam shouts from the kitchen, twirling a knife between her fingers. The sight makes something inside of you catch on fire.
"Gross," Mindy grumbles and whines when Anika leaves her, choosing to sit on your other side.
You share a laugh, your friend molding against your side. They put on a movie, not a slasher, thank god, and you settle deeper into the cushions as you watch, putting your hand around Anika's shoulders and sending Mindy a smug look. She rolls her eyes, huffing, and crosses her arms, turning to look at the screen with her lips jutted out. Sam and Tara join you when they're finally done, your girlfriend sending Chad and Anika a glare before she settles on the floor with a pout, a mirror image of Mindy. You bite on your lower lip, suppressing a smile. Screen flashes brightly and you dive into the story unfolding, forgetting about the real world for a few hours.
You nod off when you're almost halfway through the sequel, now flat against Sam's front as you both sit on some cushions on the floor, Mindy having thrown you away from her girlfriend when she came back with more snacks. Sam's arms find home around your waist, keeping you trapped between her legs as she presses soft kisses all over the side of your face. She shushes everyone and lowers the volume once she finally notices you've fallen asleep, snatching Mindy's blanket to cover your feet.
When you open your eyes some time later, expecting to see credits rolling or another movie playing, you see a murder report, sirens in the background wailing loudly, a likely cause of your abrupt awakening. You frown, struggling to make out words with your mind still half asleep, but when you hear your girlfriend's name your focus becomes laser like. Everyone in the room listens with rapt attention to every word falling from the reporter's mouth, Sam nudging you away and stomping to the kitchen once murder acquisitions are made known.
You swallow, looking at Sam's hunched figure, your throat suddenly dry. Tara elbows you and throws her chin in Sam's direction, eyes widening in an attempt at silent communication. You nod and follow her, both of you taking a seat on either side of the dejected woman.
"Sam?" Tara hesitantly speaks up. "None of what they said matters. We'll get that motherfucker and people will know the truth. They'll see you how we see you." She places her hand on top of Sam's, squeezing.
You bite on your lower lip when Sam's face crumbles at her sister's words, a single tear sliding down her cheek. "And what if they're right?" She croaks, turning to look at her sister. "What if they see me for what I really am and you're the one who's wrong?"
Tara opens her mouth, fire in her eyes, but you beat her to it. "She's right," you state, Sam snapping back to look at you. "You did what you had to do before. They'll never understand it, but we do. You're good, Sam, everyone in this room knows it."
Mindy and Chad take a seat across the table, worriedly eyeing your girlfriend, but her eyes are on you, latching onto every word that leaves your lips.
"Do you really think so?" She whispers and you can see the hidden insecurity behind her irises. This feels like a conversation you should be having in private, away from Mindy's piercing eyes and Tara's attentiveness.
Your lips press against hers before you whisper quietly, only for her to hear. "I know so. You saved me, remember?"
Tension seeps away as she pulls you into another kiss, lips moving gently against your own, tongue sliding across your bottom lip before Mindy forces you apart by fake gagging.
Tara pulls her into a hug, somehow fitting her older sister in the slope of her neck. "Shut it, Mindy." She glares at the girl.
Mindy throws her arms up in mock surrender and Chad takes this moment to say, "That's right. We're the core four, we've been through worse."
Sam loudly snorts into Tara's shoulder, making the girl grimace. "The core what?" Mindy's side eye burns through him.
"The core four. You know, cause we've been through a lot. Plus, it sounds cool."
"It really doesn't," you chuckle.
"And there's five of us, dingus, six if we count Anika," the twin sister points out.
"Yeah, but Y/n isn't Woodsboro and neither is Anika..." he trails off, looking to the side. "Core four and a half? Core four and plus ones?"
Mindy rolls her eyes so hard you're afraid they might stick to the back of her head. "Just shut up."
You get up to get a glass of water for Sam after making sure she's fine, dropping your phone on the table and heading to the kitchen. Your eyes roll to the back of your head when you hear Quinn and her latest boy toy going at it again, and open the fridge, scanning for a bottle of water.
Suddenly, the apartment grows quiet before chaos takes over.
"Y/n!" Sam shouts loudly, and you run back, her fingers immediately latching onto your wrist with a tight grip. She shows you a message on her phone, a photo of Ghostface holding Quinn by the throat in her room.
You freeze with a baited breath, eyes pinned to the door. Pained wails from behind the wall make you dart to the door, throwing Sam's hand away from yours. You open the door before she pushes you behind her back, obscuring the view, but you still catch a glimpse of Quinn's limp body being thrown at Anika.
Your friends scream and scutter around the apartment, Ghostface hot on your heels. Sam's hand finds yours again, pulling you behind Chad and Tara, Mindy and Anika following close by, but Ghostface is faster, rounding you up, Sam's hand slipping from your grasp as he shuts the front door right in your face, cutting you away from Sam, Tara and Chad. The door starts shaking from the force of Sam's efforts, but you know it's useless - she made sure nothing could get through that door when they moved in. You duck when the robed figure slashes at you, nipping your shoulder. Mindy shouts something about knives from the kitchen and runs up to clock Ghostface with a knife holder, throwing him off his feet. Anika tugs you back into Quinn's room and you stumble on her body, almost falling into a puddle of blood, but Mindy is right there on your other side, shoving you behind the door and quickly locking it.
The three of you lean on the door, feet planted firmly on the floor as Ghostface tries to knock it down. The hinges squeak from the force, dust falling on your shoulders as you pant heavily, thinking of a way out. You look around the room, trying to find some sort of weapon, but the only thing somewhat fitting your requirements is a bedside lamp, glowing mockingly with a pinkish hue. The rattling stops, and your panic increases tenfold. Your eyes land on Mindy's, her face growing pale as she looks at something over your shoulder before she forces you back and throws herself at the bathroom door with a scream.
The dark figure easily throws the door open, slicing her bicep to the bone. The girl falls to the floor, clutching the deep cut, unaware of the hand raised over her head, ready to land the final blow. Anika launches herself at the killer, kicking and screaming, as you dart for the fucking lamp, clutching it in your sweaty palm, ready to knock the hooded person unconscious. You turn around just in time to see your friend's stomach being sliced open, a guttural scream ripping from her throat.
She falls to the ground and you swing the lamp as hard as you can, sending Ghostface back to the bathroom and snapping the door shut right in his face. You sit, propped against the door, frantically looking around for something to block it with. Mindy presses down on Anika's stomach, there's so much blood it's going to make you sick.
You turn away, blinking back tears, your eyes landing on the dresser.
"Mindy," you croak, "Mindy we need to prop it against the door." She looks at you, then at the dresser and back to Anika, who nods, schooling her features.
You move in tandem, you still holding the door, with Ghostface now trying to knock it down, and her pushing the dresser firmly against the door. You sag once it's in place, picking up on distant shouts.
"Y/n!" Sam calls from the window across, a leader clutched between her and Danny. You let out a relieved laugh, securing the ladder on the windowsill. "That's it, baby, now come here," she urges, a desperate look in her eyes.
You shake your head, looking back at Mindy and Anika, and at the shaking door. "They're injured, Sam. They'll go first." She looks like she wants to protest, but relents once she sees the look in your eyes.
"Just one at a time," Danny speaks up.
You nod before turning back and taking a place on the floor, gently pressing down on Anika's wound, your hands turning red mere seconds later. You fight the urge to gag, looking at your friends through the tears. "You first, Mindy."
Mindy looks up, scandalized. "I'm not leaving her," she gritts.
"M-Mindy," Anika whimpers, clutching your wrists.
"No."
"You'll get there quick and I'll be right behind you, o-okay?" The girl stutters, pleading with her eyes.
"Then you go first," Mindy sniffles, "I'll hold it steady and wait till you get across."
You close your eyes, your whole body jostling from the force of Ghostfaces efforts. Your friend is losing more and more blood, coating the floor and your clothes, making you shudder. Sam starts shouting again, screaming for one of you to finally go. You look at Mindy, whispering, "You have to go."
"I'll just s-slow you down. Just go, please, just g-go." Anika begs, tears rolling down her face. Mindy nods resolutely and you look away, giving them some resemblance of privacy as they share a heartfelt kiss.
Mindy grabs your collar, forcing you to look at her when they're done. "You get her out, understand?"
You nod, watching as she looks at her girlfriend one last time and hurries to the ladder, hesitantly climbing on.
"You'll go next," Anika whispers, closing her eyes.
Your head whips back, eyes wide as you look at your friend's pale face. "I'm not fucking leaving you, An. We stick together, remember?"
She chuckles humorlessly, the sound turning into a wheeze. "I don't want you d-dying with me."
You swallow back a sob, knowing that the open wound is looking worse with each passing second, her fingers so weak she can barely hold onto your hand, let alone a ladder.
She looks like she knows what you're thinking about, smiling gently. "I'll h-hold him off. I still have some fight in me."
You shake your head, blinking back tears, and look out the window to see Mindy's almost halfway to the other side. You think and think and think, because there has to be something, there must be a way. There's probably some sort of weapon in Sam's room, but you're not sure if you'll make it back in time or if you'll be able to fight off Ghostface. You can feel the door almost give out, crossing out the options of just staying there and waiting for the police to arrive.
Anika pushes your hands away and you blink back at her. "Go," she whispers, fighting back tears. "We b-both know I won't make it across that ladder."
You shake your head, realization dawning on you. "The front door," you mutter, "An, it's locked from the inside! And that fucker won't even hear you through all that noise. You can make it to the elevators. You can!"
She freezes, eyes darting between the door and the window, you can see a glimpse of hope appear. "I can," she nods, "but what about you?"
You swallow. "I'll hold him off and go for the ladder when he breaks down the door. I promise, I'll get out."
She looks like she wants to argue, but Mindy's triumphant shout as she finally lands on the floor makes her nod quietly. You don't have time to argue, you both know it.
"Anika!" Mindy urges and you can hear Sam cursing loudly.
The wounded girl nods solemnly and pads to the door that leads to the hallway, unlocking it quietly.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Mindy yells.
Sam doesn't say anything and shoves Mindy out of the way, ready to climb the goddamn ladder, Danny holding her back by her shoulders.
"No!" You shout, looking back to see Anika already in the hallway. "Anika's going and I'm next. Trust me, please."
Sam looks at you, a silent question in her eyes, you shake your head, hoping she'll listen. She sags. "Okay."
You exhale in relief, turning to watch Anika as she trudges through the living room, back aching from continuing shoves.
Minutes tickle by, Mindy disappears from view to go to the living room, watching her girlfriend through the window. You hold on, heels of your feet firmly on the floor, but you can already feel your strength starting to slip.
Anika is nowhere to see, so you turn to Sam, a question on your tongue.
"You can go now," she nods. "C'mon, babe, hurry." She stretches one arm out, the other holding the ladder tightly. Danny is by her side, pushing all of his weight to their end of the ladder.
You get up and run for the window, the dresser now pushed against the wall, the door wide open. Your foot slips on the windowsill, but you manage to hold on, all of your body now on the ladder, looking down at the street below. You start trembling violently, now understanding why Mindy took so long to get across. Sam's eyes are on you the whole time and when you finally look up she offers an encouraging nod, jaw clenched in concentration as she watches your every move.
Her eyes land on something behind you and you freeze, hair on the back of your neck standing up. You don't have to look back to know Ghostface is standing there, but you still do, ignoring Sam's yelling and the tremble in your arms. He stands there, motionless, head tilted in silent curiosity. The ladder squeaks, and your sweaty palms make your grip slip, but you hold on, looking at the killer.
There's a dull sound just outside the apartment that makes him look back at the door and then at you again. His head tilts to the other side as he puts on a show of counting each of you, five fingers up, curling them one by one after he points at you, then Sam, Danny and finally Mindy. He looks at the only finger left, his pinky, and shakes his head in mock disappointment.
"No," you breath out, already climbing back.
He raises a hand, waving you goodbye playfully, gloved fingers wiggling around the sharp knife.
"Get here right now!" Sam shouts, halfway out of the window, but you're out of her grasp. "What the fuck are you doing?!"
You shake your head again, stumbling back inside Quinn's room as the ladder falls down to the street below, Sam's screams filling your ears as you run after Ghostface.
"Anika!" You shout when the elevator is finally in sight, Anika holding on to the railing and Ghostface slipping inside.
You run at full speed, but you still don't make it in time, doors sliding closed as he buries the knife deep into her chest, making you run flat into the metal, Anika's screams echoing through the apartment building. You wipe away your tears and turn for the stairs, jumping five at a time as you make it down to the first floor. You see the back door fall shut after a figure runs out, panic overtaking as you finally face the elevator.
You've never seen that much blood in your life. The walls are covered in splashes of red, the floor just a puddle of dark liquid. Anika wheezes, choking on her blood. You fall to your knees beside her, afraid to touch her fragile body, cuts and stabs littering her torso. Your vision blurs. You don't even know which wound to press on, all of them gushing with blood. In the end you press your palms to the deep cut on her chest, sobbing when more blood starts spilling from other gashes.
She gathers the last of her strength and grips the hem of your shirt. "T-thank you," she wheezes, more blood trailing down her chin.
"What?" You breathe out, choking. "It's my fault. I should've made you climb that fucking ladder."
"I- I would've f-fell." She takes a shallow breath. "Brains a-all over the s-street." She grimaces, gripping you tighter. "This way I get to be with my f-friend for the… for the last time." She smiles, eyes growing hazy and unfocused before they fall shut, her chest no longer rising with ragged breaths.
You wail, desperately shaking her body, begging her to open her eyes. You center your hands on her chest and start pressing to the beat of fucking Stayin' Alive. You follow the steps that have been drilled into your brain on one of the courses you took, pinching Anika's nose and breathing into her mouth, waiting to see the rise of her chest. You repeat it again and again and again, hitting her chest with full force in a hopeless attempt at bringing her back to life.
Arms circle around your shoulders, your body immobilized by a person behind you. You try to throw them off, pushing with your elbows, Anika's unmoving chest the only thing you see.
"Stop," Sam croaks, pulling you against her chest.
"Get off me!" You scream. "I need to- I need-" you sob, uselessly falling back into her arms. She drags you away from the elevator, EMTs immediately rushing in. You turn in her hold, staining her with Anika's blood as she holds you close, blinking back her tears and whispering reassurances into your ear.
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oikasugayama · 4 months
Text
YOU CATCH HIM M@STURBAT!NG pt. 3
MDNI, this is a NSFW series for adults
pt. 1 Fyodor, Poe, Chuuya | pt. 2 Fukuzawa, Kunikida, Dazai | pt. 3 Ranpo, Akutagawa, Ango | pt. 4 Sigma, Mori, Tetcho | pt. 5 (finale) Atsushi, Nikolai
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Ranpo
you get a weird voicemail from Ranpo in which he was whimpering and saying "please, please, [y/n]," and then there was some fumbling with the phone and it cut off.
you're worried, of course you are, thinking maybe someone had taken him or hurt him and he needed your help, so you rush to his dorm and pound on the door, calling his name
you press your ear to the door and hear some muffled voices suddenly cut off, then hard footsteps approaching.
when ranpo throws the door open, his face is flushed, his hat and glasses are no where to be seen but his eyes are wide open, pupils dilated. you glance down and notice his clothes are disheveled, his shirt not tucked in, his fly undone, he's not wearing any shoes.
"WHAT" he snaps.
"i-- i thought you were-- you sent me a voicemail, it sounded like you were hurt or something??"
his face falls and simultaneously gets significantly redder, he steps back slightly and tries to think of what to say. that's when you spot his open laptop on the table beside a box of tissues and some lotion
"oh fuck," you say, looking from it to him. "holy shit, you were-- oh my god i'm so sorry!!"
he panics, trying to block your view "what? no-- no, i can explain, i was--"
"wait, was that voicemail in the middle of you masturbating?? dude, you said my name"
"seriously, it's-- no, i didn't, it was a misunderstanding!!"
"you know, you're a terrible liar, ranpo. brilliant mind, but a terrible liar."
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Akutagawa
god he looks hot in this gif
Mori sends you to get Akutagawa for an impromptu meeting, which you have a sinking feeling is about your conduct with Akutagawa during the last mission. you nearly missed a target because you were, ahem... busy... in an alley together.
the first place you look for akutagawa, obviously, is in his own office, but he isn't there. in the hallway you run into Gin, so you ask if she knows where her brother is, and she says he was looking for you not long ago, so you decide to check your own office.
as soon as you crack the door open you hear the wet noise of his precum-damp hand pumping his cock. since you started hooking up, he's been finding you nearly every day to get his load off, it's no surprise that he's doing it here without you.
"akutagawa," you hiss, slinking into your office and locking the door behind you. "mori wants us to meet him now, probably about this exactly thing. i don't think we can keep doing this."
his hand stops and he glares at you, frowny mouth turning further to a scowl.
"mori may be the head of the organization, but he can't tell me who i can fuck. come here."
you take a second to decide, but when akutagawa stretches his free hand out to you, you rush to accept it. his expression brightens, no longer scowling but now smirking.
"good girl. mori can wait, can't he?"
"yes," you nod, sinking to your knees in front of him.
you meet with mori only after the taste of akutagawa's cum fills your mouth
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Ango
You work into your lunch break, trying to finish a report that your boss needs asap. when you finally finish, you rush to ango's office to drop it off. you throw the door open without knocking, walk in several steps, and only then do you notice a few things:
he's not at lunch, he's still sitting at his desk.
his dick is out, in hand.
he's staring at you, in shock, with a slightly grumpy look on his face.
"sir!"
"close the fucking door," he demands, and you oblige quickly, trying to slip out as well, but he stops you. "ah, ah-- you stay. just close the door, and lock it while you're at it."
you do and slowly turn around to face him, and you can't help but to watch the way his fingers tease the head of his cock, brushing across the slit, feeling every contour of the tip.
"is that the finished report?"
"yes sir..."
"bring it to me."
you walk on shaky legs toward him, and his hand goes back to stroking himself as you get closer. you try to lay the report on his desk, but she shakes his head and reaches his free hand out. you give it to him, and he raises an eyebrow at you.
"why are you shaking?"
you try to stutter out a response, settling on "i don't know what to do."
"i find that hard to believe," he says slowly, turning toward the empty space beside his chair. "you always know what to do. that's why you're my best assistant."
the praise isn't anything new, he's always far nicer to you than anyone else he works with. you should have known the day he would hit on you or ask you out would come, but you never expected it to happen at work, and not like this.
"yes sir..." you say, slowly rounding his desk until you're standing in front of him. you drop to your knees and he sighs contentedly, leaning his head back against his chair and closing his eyes.
"good girl," he moans when your mouth touches him. "the best."
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babydollmarauders · 6 months
Text
BALLAD OF A HOMESCHOOLED GIRL — JACK HUGHES
jack hughes x fem!reader
summary: in which y/n goes on a date with Jack and thinks she made a complete fool of herself
notes: obviously inspired by Ballad of a Homeschooled Girl by Olivia Rodrigo, not proofread and written on extreme sleepiness. (3.6k words)
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third dates.
my mother always told me to have them in group settings.
she said the first date is to get to know each other; the second is to learn how he’d treat you in private; the third date is to learn how he’d treat you in front of his friends.
most guys seem to get intimidated when i ask about joining a hang out with his friends for the third date, but Jack was different. i had told Jack on our first about my rules.
first date in a public setting, but alone.
second date in private, his apartment or mine.
third date with a group of friends.
i hadn’t expected him to take it so well, nodding along as though even without context, it made sense. he didn’t ask for clarification, which was good because i had learned after my last relationship not to give any; lest they’ll act like a gentlemen in front of their friends until we start dating.
i honestly didn’t expect Jack to contact me again, fully awaiting the discovery that he’d ghosted me, possibly even blocked me to keep me from talking to him again. but then he texted me tonight.
“i know it’s last minute, but third date tonight? me and some guys from the team are going for drinks, would you wanna come?”
and now here i am, walking into a pretty secluded bar to meet Jack and about half a dozen other professional hockey players. to say i’m nervous would be a massive understatement.
i spent at least half an hour trying on various outfits, but nothing felt right. every article of clothing i tried on had something wrong with it; whether it be that it didn’t fit quite right, or it didn’t match the occasion, or i just deemed it didn’t look good on me, something was always wrong. so i finally settled on a nice sundress, despite the chilled air of the evening.
“y/n!” my head turns in search of the voice that called my name, locking eyes with Jack, where he sits at a high top table with five other guys. “i was starting to think you’d stood me up!”
my eyebrows furrow as i walk over to him, stopping at the end of the table. my stomach ties in knots at all of the eyes on me. i hate attention.
“why would i do that?” a few of the guys chuckle at my question, but i’m not sure i understand what’s so funny.
“i was joking.” Jack clarifies.
oh.
embarrassment washes over me and i can feel the blood rushing to my cheeks, but Jack just smiles sweetly, rising to his feet and pulling out the chair beside him.
“oh, thank you.” i take a seat and he returns to his, his hand settling on my knee as one of the guys begin to speak.
“so, you’re y/n?” my eyes go wide, and i glance over at Jack but he’s looking over at the other guy. “i’m Luke.”
“nice to meet you, Luke.” i give the curly headed boy a tight smile, “so, you play with Jack?”
the boy grins, nodding his head, “i guess you could say that.”
everyone snickers, and i fear i’ve made a mistake of some sort. my blood runs cold; i hate feeling like i’m on the outside of some giant inside joke.
maybe this was a mistake.
Jack squeezes my knee, and i look over at him with subtly pleading eyes, silently begging for him to save me.
“Luke is my younger brother, but he does play on the team with me.” there it is. that’s where i messed up.
“oh, i’m sorry.” i’m not sure what i’m apologizing for, but it seems like the right thing to do. i glance back at Luke, “i knew Jack had mentioned your name before but, he’s mentioned so many names that at this point they all jumble together in my head.”
Luke just shakes his head, waving it off. “nah, don’t worry, it’s okay.”
after that, i decide it’s better to go quiet; only really speaking when spoken to. i can’t embarrass myself if i’m not saying anything.
“hey.” Jack’s voice is soft, and at first, i don’t even realize he’s talking to me, until i tear my eyes from who i now know as Dawson, who’s telling a story with wildly gesturing hands. “do you wanna go get a drink?”
he nods his head over towards the bar, and i nod, desperately in need of something to ease my nerves, “yes, please.”
Jack and i rise from our seats, his hand going to my lower back to stabilize me as i stumble. my cheeks go red, but i decide it’s better not to acknowledge my clumsiness.
“and i— where are you guys going?” Dawson cuts himself off, drawing attention to Jack and i’s retreating pair. “did i bore you, y/n?”
i stop in my tracks, freezing up as guilt takes over me.
“i- what? n-no! Jack-” i stumble over my words in a panic, attempting to reassure him, but apparently i didn’t help my case.
“see, Merc! poor y/n even finds your story stupid.” John laughs and i shake my head wildly.
“no! i found it interesting!” Nico snickers at my words, his hand coming up to cover his mouth.
“interesting. that’s one way of putting it.”
oh god, i made it worse.
“guys, leave her alone.” Jack speaks up, rolling his eyes at his friends before he turns back to me. “c’mon, ignore them, they’re just raggin’ on you.”
my brows thread together in confusion, but i nod nonetheless, allowing him to use his hand that still rests on my back to guide me over to the bar.
“i’m sorry about them.” he sighs as we reach the counter, waiting for a bartender. “they have a stupid sense of humor.”
“no! no, it’s fine!” i assure him.
it’s not them, it’s me.
i’ve never been great at picking up on social cues, perhaps due to my odd lifestyle as a child.
when the bartender reaches us, Jack orders another beer before looking over at me, “oh, can i just get an aperol spritz, please?”
Jack hands over his card and when he gets it back he turns to me.
“i gotta run to the bathroom, are you okay waiting for the drinks? i’ll be back in a second.” i nod and he takes off towards the restroom, leaving me alone.
“so, you like him?” apparently not alone for long.
i turn my head in surprise, only to find Luke standing beside me. he asks the bartender who arrives back with Jack and i’s drinks for another beer and the man nods.
“hmm? Jack?” Luke nods and i smile looking down into my glass. “yeah, i really like him.”
“see, i said so!” my face scrunched in confusion as i look back at him.
“you said so?” i question.
“yeah! Johnny was trying to say you must not like him because you aren’t being very flirty, but i told him- i said you obviously like him if you’re on a third date.”
flirting.
i’ve never been great at that. and i haven’t needed to be, Jack is the one who approached me first, he’s the one who asked me out and he hasn’t given any indication that i have any reason to have to flirt to keep his attention.
“oh.”
Luke pays for his beer before retreating back to the table with a low “see you in a few.”
i’m quick to tear my phone out of my pocket, glancing over towards the restrooms for a moment to make sure my date isn’t coming back before making a quick google search.
this seems impossible.
“hey.” Jack reappears beside me and i hastily lock my phone, looking up at him as i go to slide it back into my pocket. but the combination of my fidgety hands, quick movements, and not paying attention to my surroundings doesn’t end well.
before i can even blink, my hand is knocking into my glass, the drink sliding off the bar top and onto the floor, shattering upon impact.
“oh my god!” i squeal, jumping back from the broken shards. i glance down at the mess before looking back up at Jack. “i am so sorry!”
i turn to the waitress who comes rushing towards us with a broom and towels, apologizing profusely and offering to clean it up myself.
“it’s no problem, happens all the time.” she tells me with a smile, but i still bury my face in my hands.
i’m making a fool of myself.
“can we get another aperol spritz?” i peek through my eyes at the sound of Jack’s voice, watching as he hands the bartender his card again.
“i am so sorry, Jack.” my voice is low and whimpered, my shoulders rising as though to protect myself. “i just wasted your money and made a huge mess.”
Jack smiles softly, shaking his head as he chuckles, “don’t worry about it. it’s seriously okay, y/n. accidents happen, don’t beat yourself up about it.”
i nod, but i truly feel horrible now.
this was a mistake. i should’ve just stayed home; watched a cheesy romance or read a true crime novel and gone to bed early.
the bartender hands me the new drink, and i thank him before Jack leads me back to the table.
“everything okay?” Timo questions as we return and Jack just nods as we settle back in our seats.
“yeah, just a little accident. it’s all good.” the guys chuckle but all turn back to their previous conversation, somehow now on the topic of the wildest things they did in school.
i stay silent, hoping and praying to any higher power that they don’t involve me in this conversation, but my luck runs out pretty quickly. although i’m not sure i’ve had any tonight in the first place.
“what about you, y/n?” Nico is the one to rope me in, “what’s the wildest thing you did in school?”
“i- uh-” i internally cringe, mentally preparing myself for their jokes, “i was homeschooled. so, i didn’t really get to do anything crazy like you guys.”
“ohh, you’re a homeschool kid.” Luke nods as if it makes sense.
“did you know that statistically speaking, homeschoolers are more likely to graduate than public schoolers?” John pipes up, and i shake my head.
“really?” Jack questions, his nose scrunched cutely in disbelief.
“no, i- uh, i didn’t know that.” John nods at my words.
“yeah, look it up!” he points to my phone, which never actually made it to my pocket after the broken glass fiasco and now resides face down on the table.
i pick it up and Jack and Dawson, who both reside on either respective side of me, lean in to see my phone screen, eager to find out whether their teammate is correct.
but when i unlock my phone, my eyes grow wide and i’m eagerly attempting to swipe out of the current window, but it’s as if the world is against me because this is the exact moment that my phone screen decides to freeze.
“does that say ‘how to flirt?’” Dawson chuckles and i bite my lip, giving up and slamming my phone face down onto my lap as the table bursts into laughter.
i’m blushing like a mad woman, squeezing my eyes shut as i bury my face into my hands for the second time that night.
“aww y/n, you really let John get to you, huh?” Luke teases, and i feel like i could cry of embarrassment.
everything i do is tragic.
suddenly my seat is moving, scooting further to my right, before an arm is spindling around my waist. i let my hands lower just slightly to peer up at Jack, who wears a happy grin, his cheeks tinged pink.
he glances down at me, smiling even wider when he sees that i’m already looking at him.
it’s like a cat’s got my tongue, too stunned by the overwhelming mortification of the situation to even get a word out to explain or defend myself.
but Jack doesn’t seem to mind, pulling me into his body until my head is against his collarbone as he changes the subject; bringing up a story about he and his older brother trying to free an infant Luke from his crib when they were younger.
i’m quiet as the group speaks, most of them speaking over each other, which in turn makes others get louder to try and be heard. my head aches and i need a break.
“i’m gonna go to the bathroom.” i whisper, freeing myself from Jack’s hold as he nods in understanding.
“okay. are you okay?” i give him a small smile, reassuring him that i’m fine before i leave.
my hands rest upon the bathroom sink, my eyes glaring into my reflection in the wonky bar mirror.
“get it together.” i try and tell myself, but it comes out in more of a whine.
why am i like this?
i run my hands through my hair, making sure it’s volumized, and heave out a sigh before i make my way back out of the restroom to join the table again.
on my way back, i can’t help but smile at the sight of Jack laughing with his friends.
he seems so carefree.
but i should’ve been watching where i was going, because halfway to the table, i’m tripping over someone’s heeled foot, landing on my knee on the hard ground.
“oh shit!” Jack’s voice echoes over the loudness of the music and bar-goers, and i can hear multiple chairs screech across the floor. “y/n, are you okay?”
oh god, i wanna curl up and die.
“yeah, i’m fine.” my voice is wavering and weak, so over making an idiot of myself tonight.
Jack appears in front of me, holding his hands out to help me up. his skin is soft as i slide my hands into his, allowing him to pull me up to my feet.
his friends stand behind him, a couple biting back laughs, but the others wide eyed in concern.
i let Jack guide me back to the table, and when i sit down, he’s kneeling in front of me, inspecting my knee for any immediate bruising or marks.
i sigh and he looks up at me, worry settled into his expression.
“that was a hell of a tumble.” Timo snickers, but he sobers up quickly as his eyes meet Jack’s, “you’re okay though, right?”
“physically? yes. mentally? questionable.” the table laughs, but i didn’t mean to joke, which only makes me press my lips together.
Jack finally deems my knee okay, settling back into his seat and letting his arm rest over the back of my chair.
“what were we talking about?” Jack asks, effectively diverting the attention away from my fall and back to the conversation from while i was gone.
“cheating.” John states, taking a sip from his beer.
i let out a little laugh, thinking he was just joking, but i sober up as i realize nobody else is.
“oh, you were serious.” i bite my lip as he nods.
“right!” Luke exclaims, “so people are saying he cheated on her?”
“yeah,” Dawson nods, and i’m a bit lost, “which i don’t understand, because all he did was hold hands with the other girl. we don’t know anything other than that. holding hands could have so many different meanings.”
i take a big gulp of my drink, listening intently as the guys debate cheating and what counts as cheating.
“i think, if one of you guys cheated on your girlfriend, i might ‘accidentally’ knock your teeth out on the ice.” Nico tells them, making the guys and i laugh. “i’m serious, you’d be bag skating until you physically drop from exhaustion.”
and like word vomit, before i can stop myself, i’m speaking, “my friend recently cheated on her boyfriend, and i can’t tell if i should tell him or let him find out on his own.”
their heads turn to me and i shrink in my seat as i realize what just escaped my lips.
“oh my god, i’m not supposed to be telling that to anyone.” my hand covers my mouth, and a few of the guys laugh at my actions.
“you should definitely tell him.” John shrugs, “he deserves to know.”
“i thought so too, but if i do tell him, does that make me a horrible friend?” the guys all start shouting different things along the same lines.
some telling me it doesn’t make me a bad friend, while others telling me that i shouldn’t be friends with her anymore anyways.
“has she done anything else?” Luke asks, and i scrunch my nose.
“cheating wise, no: just one drunken kiss with some guy.” i start. “but she told him she was sick to get out of meeting his parents.”
i clap my hand over my mouth again, shocked that these secrets are just tumbling out of me.
“fuck, i shouldn’t be telling you guys these things.”
the guys cackle and Dawson changes the subject, apparently just remembering a story of something that happened to him back home over the summer.
i remain quiet for the next fifteen or so minutes, just listening as the guys go back and forth, telling stories of their summers, until i feel Jack’s hand on my shoulder.
“hey, i’m heading home, do you want me to drop you off at your house?”
i eagerly accept his offer, happily willing to leave now and avoid paying for an uber during surge pricing. the both of us bid goodbye to his teammates and his brother, who says he’ll hitch a ride back to the apartment with Dawson, before we head out to his car.
i smile as he opens the car door for me, allowing me to climb in before he shuts the door again and jogs around the front of the car, slipping into the drivers side.
i don’t need to give him my address, our second date having been at my apartment, so i just clasp my hands tightly together in my lap, both of his on his steering wheel.
“i had fun tonight.” he tells me as we pull up to my apartment building.
“yeah, your friends are nice.”
not a complete lie. they are nice, i’m just not sure i got along with them, or more so, that they liked me.
“can i walk you up?” i accept his request and he exits the car, running around it to open my door before i get the chance to.
i mentally prepare myself on the silent elevator up to my apartment, readying myself to have him tell me that he doesn’t think we fit.
i was awkward tonight, breaking a glass, stumbling over my words, tripping, googling things that should be common knowledge, and telling secrets i had no business telling.
i couldn’t think of any worse ways to ruin a potential relationship.
when we reach my apartment, Jack stops me in front of my door, and before he gets the chance to belittle my dignity any further than i, myself, already have, i’m speaking up.
“i completely understand if you don’t wanna continue this.” i sigh, finding sudden interest in my shoes. “i made a complete fool of myself tonight.”
“why would you think i don’t wanna see you again?” he sounds hurt, his finger hooking under my chin and pulling my head up to look at him.
i chuckle lowly, “you can’t take me anywhere. every time i go out, it’s social suicide.”
“so you’re a bit clumsy and you need time to click with my friends and their humor, so what?” he shrugs, “i think you’re cute. and i’m incredibly honored that you wanted to flirt with me.”
i groan, my face flushing, and i tip my head back to look up at the ceiling.
“oh god, that was so embarrassing.” i whine.
“it was sweet.” Jack chuckles, pulling me into his chest. his arms wrap around me and i melt into his embrace, his chin resting on top of my head.
“i really like you, y/n. and tonight may not have gone the way you would’ve liked, and i can respect that, you’re allowed to feel that way, but i really liked it. i got a chance to figure out more about you and what you’re like, and it only solidified that i’d really like to keep getting to know you, see where this could lead.”
my head snaps up to look him in the eyes, “you would?”
he giggles at my actions, nodding his head. “yeah, i would.”
his head dips down and i suck in a breath as his lips near mine.
“can i kiss you?” he questions, and i nod.
“yes, please.”
his lips slot against mine, moving in sync and pulling me even closer to him if it’s possible. his hands slide up to cup the back of my neck, his tongue tracing my bottom lip and i part my lips to allow him entrance.
what starts slow and passionate, turns into something hot and heavy. i huff as he pulls away, my lips chasing after his and making him smile.
“do you wanna come inside?” i ask him, my voice low and sultry, and his eyes darken almost instantly.
he smirks, answering only by taking my keys from my hands and unlocking my door, leading me into my own apartment.
“ya know, i don’t think you needed that google search. you’re pretty good at luring me in all on your own.”
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wendysimp · 5 months
Text
Secrets Out Pt.1 (Wendy x Seulgi)
Wendy (Step Sister) is back X Seulgi X Male Reader
Tags: Shower Sex, Risky Sex Blowjob, Double Blowjob, Spitting, Deepthroat, Daddy Kink, Threesome, Riding, Face Sitting and much more!
This is a series which is continuing off from The Bog Reveal which is a 3 part Smut. Hope you guys enjoy.
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(Y/n’s POV)
Ugh school… WHY?! I just want to be glued to my bed all day.
“Honey? Wake up, time for school.” Really mom?
Just kill me honestly. After finally getting up from my comfortable bed I should be sleeping in, I grabbed myself a change of clothes before heading out to have a shower. There’s only one problem… My Sister is in the shower already.
Last weekend. One of the craziest things ever happened. What is it you ask? Well to keep it short and sweet, I not only fucked my big sister Wendy, but I also got to fuck her hot friends too.
I could remember every single second of it. Even after that Wendy and I would mess around. Speaking of Wendy… I look around to make sure the coast is clear. Good! I’m gonna get in and surprise her.
(Wendy’s POV)
Nothing more like starting off the morning with a nice warm shower. I love the feeling of the water dripping down my body… and feeling Y/n’s cock inside me- okay wait what?! Fuck!
That dumbass really got me needing him more. Oh who am I kidding, I’ve always been needing him. I even sucked his dick under the table while having dinner with our mom there as well. Luckily she didn’t catch us.
I’m getting wet. I-I… need him. I slide my hands down to my pussy, rubbing it just like how he does it to me.
“Mmm Y/n I need you’re touch.” I moan softly to myself.
“I see you can’t stop thinking about me sis.” My eyes widened.
I turn around, see Y/n and before I could scream he covers my mouth and pins me against the shower glass. I look up into his eyes.
“Shhh mom will hear you.” He whispers. Even the way he talks is making me more wet.
He finally removed his hands and I cover my body.
“What are you doing here dumbass?!” I asked him and he rolls his eyes.
“Come on, you’re really coving up even though I’ve seen you naked before when we fuck?” This tease.
I slap his arms and continued to wash up as I tried to ignore him. I felt him hold me from behind, feeling his hands roam around my body. Fuck Y/n you’re killing me. I bite my lip hard trying not to give him a reaction he wanted out of me.
“Come on, don’t you need my touch sis?” H-his hands! His rubbing my pussy.
“S-shut up and let’s hurry and finish up before mom suspects something.” I tell him but he doesn’t listen. No surprise there since he barely listens to me.
“Shhh she won’t.” I felt his lips on my neck. It turned me on so much I even let out a little moan. He smirks against my skin.
“You like that don’t you?”
“S-shut up you perv.” I tell him as he keeps going.
I felt his cock press against my ass. This fucker! You know what? Two can play that game!
(3rd Person View)
Wendy turns and Kisses Y/n deeply while stroking his cock slowly making him harder and turned on. They pull away as they look into each others eyes
“Hurry up and fuck me!” Wendy whispers.
And with that, no hesitation from Y/n as he turns her around again, bends her over as she was against the shower glass once again. He lines himself up along her pussy and slides into her.
Y/n let’s put a grunt while Wendy let’s put a moan as she feels him deep inside her. Y/n grabs her hips and start to thrust deep and hard as their bodies slap against each others.
“You fucking like that Wendy? You like when bro fucks you so good?” He slams into her harder causing her to roll her eyes back.
“Y-yesifuckingloveit!” She moans uncontrollably.
Y/n gives Wendy a light spank on her ass, leaving a mark which she didn’t mind at all as she was filled with lust.
“F-fuck you’re so deep inside of me!” She moans and looks over her shoulder at her brother.
(Y/n’s POV)
A knock can be heard and we both look at each other.
“Don’t stop.” She whispered to me which I nodded and keep fucking her tight pussy.
“Wendy, are you okay in there?” Mom asks her.
“Y-yeah mom I’m fine just- f-fuck!” She moans leaving mom confused. I chuckled.
“Calm down mom will catch us.” I whispered and tease her more while fucking her faster and deeper. She turns and slaps my hand.
“S-shut up dumbass!” She whispered to me.
“You sure you’re okay?”
“Y-yes mom I’m okay. I-I feel s-so… s-so fucking good right now.”
“W-well okay. I’m off to work now, make sure your brother gets ready. I love you.” She says before leaving.
“Love you too!” She yells back.
Mom leaves and she pulls my cock out of her before turning to me and said…
“Take me to your bed and fuck me!”
(A little time skip)
We finish up and Wendy raises from between my legs, wiping her mouth.
“Thanks for giving me my breakfast baby boy.” She winks after swallowing my load I shot into her mouth.
She leaves my room, telling me to hurry up and get ready. What a great way to start the morning.
I put in my clothes get my bag and keys then wait for Wendy. She comes down a few minutes later and see her with a nice, beautiful dress which looked so sexy on her. The things I’d do to her right now with that dress on.
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“You look beautiful Wendy.” I tell her causing her to blush and look away. I chuckled.
“T-Thanks dumbass. We also gotta pick up Seulgi on the way to school. She needs a ride.” She tells me which I didn’t mind at all.
We head over to Seulgi’s and she comes out with a nice blue dress that looked absolutely fucking great on her. Look at her curves!
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She enters the car with a big smile and puts on her seat belt.
“Hi Y/n! Hey Wendy!” She greeted us warmly.
“Hey baby, you look really great today. Love that dress you got on.” I flirt. Wendy doesn’t seem to like it when I flirt with her friends.
Seulgi blushes and bites her lip.
“Okay not now! Let’s get to school before we arrive there late.” In a rush are we sis?
“Yes ma’am I’m on it.” I start to drive.
“You’re annoying you know that?” She rolled her eyes.
“So how was the sex on his bed this morning?” Seulgi asks with a teasing smirk which caused her to get a slap on the arm by Wendy.
“Y-you weren’t supposed to mention what I told you in front of him!” She scolds her.
“Oww okay okay!” Seulgi rubs her arm.
“Wendy relax. You okay Seulgi?” I asked her and she nodded.
“W-Wendy? Could I maybe have your brother again?” She asks.
“Eww what?! No!”
“Oh come on, you’ve got to have so many turns with him and plus, I’ve been missing the feeling of him inside me.” She looks over at me and I wink at her.
“I missed that feeling too.” I tell her.
“Okay first of all, I’m right here, and secondly, I’m not just gonna sit aside and watch you guys fuck! We got school to go too!” Wendy isn’t a fan of being late to school.
“Who said anything about watching when you can join us?”
“Yeah she’s right sis come on.” Why does Wendy have to be a party pooper?
“No! That’s final.” She looks out the window as silence fill the car.
(Meanwhile)
Slurping, choking, moaning and spitting. If you haven’t guessed it yet, Wendy changed her mind last second and here we are, in the backseat all together, naked as they share my cock.
“Mmm that’s it keep sucking just like that. You’re so good at this Seulgi.” I smile and praise her as she winked and bobbed her head all the way down my length.
My cock hits the back of her throat which felt like I was in a dream world. She chokes and pulls away to catch her breath then spits on my shaft. Meanwhile, Wendy was doing fucking amazing with my balls in her mouth. I could feel her tongue just run circles around each of them and felt the vibrations on my balls from her moans.
They both switch as Wendy takes me into her mouth and Seulgi taking my balls.
“Mmm you like that huh perv? You like the way your big sis sucks your big fat cock?” Wendy smirked as she continued to blow me.
“Shut up and just keep sucking.” I lean my head back in pleasure.
They keep going until they eventually pull away.
“Lay down daddy. I wanna show you how a good girl rides.” Seulgi really turns me on with the way she talks.
I listen and lay down as she straddles my lap and Wendy straddles my face with her pussy. Fuck what a time to be alive. Without wasting time. Seulgi slumps down on my cock, riding like there’s no tomorrow while Wendy sits her ass on my face. Moans fill out the car but Seulgi let’s out a scream.
“Ahhh fuck Y/n your cock is deep inside of me! I-it’s so big!” She yells in complete pleasure.
“S-Seulgi be q-quiet… p-people might hear- f-fuck right there! Fuck me with your tongue baby boy!” She let’s out a yell as well as she couldn’t help herself.
I grip Seulgi’s hips and squeeze onto Wendy’s ass. The car was shaking like crazy with the way they were both riding me. They both switch places as Wendy rides me as I get a taste Of Seulgi’s soaked pussy.
“F-fuck bro! Your dick is so good.”
“K-Kiss me Wendy.” They both pull each other into a heated make out, moaning into each other’s mouths.
Having Wendy and Seulgi is one of the best things in the world, but how could I forget Joy? Yeri? And Irene? Having all five is so much better but hey, I’m not complaining.
After a while of riding both my face and cock, I felt Seulgi release onto my face and Wendy onto my cock.
“Ahhh f-fuck yesss y/n!” The both moan before getting off of me.
They both look at me with a stare full of lust and smile.
“Daddy still needs to cum. How about we help your brother unload?” She looks at Wendy with a smirk.
“You read my mind. Don’t be afraid to let it all out baby boy.” She winks and they both get in between my legs just like before and lick up from the base to my tip slowly.
The both kiss my tip and stop as Wendy takes her phone out.
“Let’s make a video for our girls. You wouldn’t mind taking the video do you baby boy?” Wendy looks up at me.
“Not at all.” I say and smile as I take the phone and hit record.
They kiss my tip again.
“Hey girls. You’re missing out. Too bad you guys can’t be here.” They both tease the other girls and down my cock into their mouths.
They both take turns slurping my cock and occasionally spit on it before making out with my cock in the middle. I was going completely crazy. Watching them pass my cock around to each other like it was delicious food.
“Give us your cum baby boy.” Wendy strokes me.
“Give it all to us daddy. Give us your big yummy load. Shoot it down our throats.”
Their dirty talk is fucking amazing I can feel myself getting closer… and closer… and-.
“I-I’m gonna cum. Open up!” I tell them and they listen and do what I said.
They open their mouths and smile as they both wait patiently for my load. They both stroke me which took me into another dimension.
I watch as my load shoots out and down their throats but some hitting their beautiful faces. They smile and giggle as they start to play with my cum and share it. These girls are crazy. They make out before swallowing my cum and show the camera that there was none left but a mess still on their faces.
“See you guys soon.” They both blow a kiss and wink before I end the video. Wendy takes her phone and sends it to Joy, Irene and Yeri.
Seulgi cleans her face and lick the remaining cum off her fingers. Wendy does the same and looks up at me.
“You made a mess dumbass. Lucky you, I don’t mind cleaning it off.” She smirked.
They both get up and sit on each of my legs and lean in for a three way kiss. We made out for what felt like ages before we pull away to catch our breaths.
“Let’s get to class now.” Seulgi says and we nodded as we all get our clothes back on and head into the school.
We head to our classes which of course, we all received a detention. Was it worth it? Fuck yeah it was. I’m also glad we didn’t get caught. Word does go around pretty quick.
(Unknown POV)
What the fuck?! I just witnessed Y/n fucking Seulgi… and his step sister in his car?! I heard screams in the parking lot and decided to check it out, that’s when I saw the scene happen in front of my eyes.
I recorded most of it. I can’t wait to show the girls… though, looking through the video, Y/n’s dick is making me… wet. Fuck I wonder how he feels inside- okay enough! I got to get out of here and change my panties.
To be continued!
I’m so so sorry I took so long to put something out. Personal reasons that prevented me to do so. But I’m back and hope I can be consistent like how I was before. I hope you guys enjoyed and sorry if it was a little shorter than expected but I wanted to get rid of the cobwebs when it comes to writing. Again I hope you enjoyed and… this is only the beginning.😉
(If there’s any errors please let me know and I’ll fix it. Thank you!)
660 notes · View notes
adventuringblind · 9 months
Note
charles having a baby fever
Father Material
Charles Leclerc x Reader
Genre: fluff but also kinda smutty
Request: I saw this and my brain immediately went down the gutter. I appreciate you for this request 🙏 also my requests are open so send me things
Summary: Charles gets a case of baby fever and you're willing to indulge him ;)
Warnings: sexual themes ahead, not the whole thing but it's definitely in there. Talks of pregnancy.
Notes: I would be lying if I said I'm not a hoe for this man. Written in third person.
Masterlist
The following media is not intended for anyone below the age of 18. If your are under that, please do not interact with this post.
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Charles had managed to take notice of every child in the paddock that day.
He'd recently been noticing small things. Things like baby clothes, small children, family interactions.
He'd watched Sergio and Kevin with their kids. Seb had brought his family around. It was starting to get to him.
He'd be lying if he said he didn't want kids. Starting a family was always a dream of his. Something him and his wife talked about often. They just hadn't really tried for a baby.
He knew she was at their house. Waiting for him to come home with groceries. It felt peaceful compared to the life they lived during race season.
As he walked, he could pick out every family. Kids bundled up in their winter clothes. Adults holding them upright so they don't slip and fall.
He could hardly take it. He's never walked home so fast in his life.
She was in the kitchen when he appeared behind her in the doorway. She was prepping to make dinner.
Charles looked disheveled, out of breath. She was concerned and yet simultaneously turned on by his appearance.
"Are you alright?" She asked. Charles quickly came back to his senses. Dropped the bass on the floor and wrapped her in a hug.
"We should have a baby." He was looking directly into her eyes. His face completely straight.
She was taken off guard for a moment. Then, realizing the proposal, she started excitedly shaking her head.
Charles was waiting no time. Vigorously kissing her lips. Heavy but passionate.
She was giggling at him. "What are you laughing at?" He asked as he swiftly picked her up and set her on the counter.
"Nothing, I just find you adorable."
He was mumbling French into her collarbone and Italian into her chest. Letting his hands roam her body freely.
"You are so beautiful. Soon, you will become a goddess. Pregnant with our child." He cradled her face in his hands.
"Charles I swear if you don't stop teasing-" She couldn't get any farther as Charles practically ripped her clothes off. Now left in only her underwear.
He ran his fingers lightly across her now bare skin. Memorizing the feeling. Paying attention to the way she reacted to his touch.
His shirt and jeans were next. His lips only breaking away from her for a second. Her fingers begin tracing every line on his body. The way his chest was rising and falling in rapid succession.
“Mon Amour, shall we start here, then maybe move to the couch, then into the bedroom.” He’s voice is dripping with need. He is going to take her on every piece of furniture even if it takes all night.
Her brain was already turned off. The act of thinking to much with the feeling of his fingers worshiping her. She practically fell into him, humming her approval.
Charles lifted her for a second, her only remaining garment now tossed aside.
Then he took her on the counter, then again on the chair, the dining room table and the couch. Finally they made it to the bed where Charles made love to her softly. Her body trembling with every ministration.
Charles is the ‘king of aftercare’ as she likes to call him. Something he occasionally gloated about. Much to Pierre's dismay.
He grabbed a wet rag and a cup of water. Using the rag to clean off the bodily fluids that covered both of them.
She curled her body into Charles. Her head rested on his chest.
"I think you'll make a great dad." She mumbles. Charles laughs at the notion.
"Why do you think that Mon chère?"
"You just seem like father material, ya know."
"Guess I should learn some dad joke then." The two were both laughing now.
Basking in eachothers presence. Fantasizing about what life will be like with a growing family.
1K notes · View notes
chellestrash · 3 months
Text
Let me handle it.
Frank Castle x F!Reader
summary: After a long day at work you FINALLY get home and Frank decides to offer some help with redirecting your frustrations. warnings: strong language, explicit language, explicit content, pet names, praises, fingering, masturbation, unprotected sex. word count: 3.8k an: Hey heeey, me again...trying to get out of my writers block LIKE ALWAYS! I stg there isnt a fic on this blog that isn't my attempt to try and get back into writing but anyway. This was just something short and sweet I wanted to get out to hopefully get the gears moving again. Let me know what you think! I know the ending feels a bit rushed but I hope its alright. Reblogs and feedback appreciated as always! Hope you'll enjoy! OH and of course, thank you @chelseasdagger for helping with this one and im tagging @lucy-sky cause she requested that!
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You push the front door open and sigh loudly at the sight of your apartment. The 8 hours of work felt particularly long today, and you swear at some points you weren't really sure if 5pm was actually going to come after all. The tiredness fills every inch of your body to the point that some parts actually, physically hurt as you get your coat and boots off before making your way over to the living room.
“There she is.”
Frank sits on the big couch in front of the TV, his ‘work’ clothes still on, so you assume it hasn’t been long since he got back as well. He looks better than you feel, though, one leg on the floor, the other propped up on the small coffee table. The TV remote is still in his hands, but you notice how he turns the screen off the second he notes your presence. 
Looking up at the sound of his voice, you do your best to smile in response, but the content expression fails to reach your eyes, and you turn your gaze back to the wooden floor before answering.
You mumble a quiet greeting under your nose and walk past the couch, past him and into the small now, thank god, dark bedroom. 
Frank frowns, turning his head as he watches you cross the living room and disappear behind the bedroom door. It’s not hard to pick up on the fact that something is clearly off. It’s not like you two cling to each other the second you step through the front door, but he knows something about the way you act today just doesn't feel how it should feel. He grunts, pushing himself up from his spot on the couch, and makes his way over to the bedroom.
Back in the small room, you attempt to get rid of your work clothes as fast as possible, longing for the simple yet unmatched comfort of one of Frank’s basic t shirts. You pick the one laying by the end of the bed, the one you knew he currently slept in, and softly pull the work shirt up and off over your head before ditching your bra too and tossing it off to the side. You can't be bothered to clean it up, not right now, probably not tonight. With the t shirt now on, you sit at the foot of the bed. 
A loud sigh exits your body as you attempt to take your pants off, but for some reason, the task proves harder than it would be on any other day. You fight with the fabric for another moment, frantically waving your legs back and forth with no avail before hiding your face in your hands, ready to dig the nails into your flesh with all the pent-up frustration of the week. 
“You need help with that?”
You drag your fingers down your face and turn to face him.
Frank stands in the doorway, arms crossed in front of his chest as he leans onto the door frame, and you hope he wasn't here long enough to witness your meltdown. 
“I don’t… know.”
You admit, the overwhelming frustration wins over the slight embarrassment of the previous moment. 
Frank nods before pushing himself away from the door frame. He walks over to the bed without a word, and before you can try to explain yourself, you watch him get down on one knee in front of you with a grunt.
“Alright.”
He mumbles softly, fully kneeling in front of you now. Holding your calf softly in one hand, he pulls the fabric of your pants down your leg before switching to the other one. You watch silently as he gets rid of the clothes for you before tossing them off to the side, to be dealt with at some point during the week. 
“That better?”
He asks softly, and you nod, your body relaxing at the sensation of his fingers brushing up and down the back of your calves softly. 
“Work?”
He asks carefully, feeling the need to figure out what was wrong, but not wanting you to have to think about it again.
Closing your eyes, you sigh softly and nod once more, confirming his previous suspicion. 
“Want me to go out there…make sure this shit is sorted?”
The question makes you chuckle, and you breathe out a quiet laugh as your eyes find his again. He never looked away from you. 
“You gonna go beat the shit out of my boss?”
You finally speak up, pushing your fingers through Frank’s short hair, feeling it prickle your skin slightly as you do so. The familiar feeling somehow grounds you in the moment as you feel more present than before. 
Frank scoffs at your words, looking off to the side for a second before turning back to face you. That god-damn cocky smile makes you smile back at him almost instantly. 
“That what you want?”
He moves his hands up, fingers now brushing over your thighs as he pushes forward slightly, you spread your legs open some more to fit his wide frame between them. 
“I mean if you’re offering.”
You joke, and he breathes out through his nose quickly, shaking his head with a semi playful smile.
“Yeah, okay, you got it, kid.”
He mumbles before leaning down to press a kiss onto your thigh. Closing your eyes, you let out a quiet hum, the wet warmth of his lips present on your skin for a long couple of seconds before he finally pulls away. 
“How ‘bout I make you feel good? Hmm? That sounds okay?”
His voice rumbles through your body as he moves closer to you and the bed, gently lifting your one leg up and over his shoulder before he does the same with the other one.
“Fuck.”
You start, already feeling how your body begins to react to him, the warmth between your legs slowly growing more prominent.
“You don't understand how much I’d love that right now, I just…”
He stops, stops immediately and waits to hear you out.
“I’m too fucking tired to move, Frankie.”
“Who says you gotta do anythin’?”
The way he answers makes it feel like the most obvious thing in the universe, like how he doesn't understand how you could've thought of it in any other way than him giving you all he can offer.
“Shit, you think I’m gonna make you ride it or something?”
He looks up at you from where he's kneeling by the bed, eyebrows pulled together in a frown, as if he genuinely can not believe you’d think that.
“Think I’m gonna make you get on your knees? Suck me off and tell you you’re doing a good job, hmm? That what you think?”
You laugh, shaking your head, knowing he would never make a situation like this about himself. Yeah, you two enjoyed it when things got rough during sex, and you enjoyed ordering Frank around just as much as he did with you, but you both also understood the timing and feeling of this situation. You knew not everything always worked the same, and so did Frank. “If you did, you’d get a fucking knee to your stomach, you got that?”
You state and Frank scoffs once again.
“Yes, ma’am.”
He nods, pressing a kiss to the side of your thigh before helping you slide your legs off his shoulder.
“Alright.”
He starts after pushing himself off the floor.
“Lay down, kid, show me how you want it.”
He gestures to the bed, and you give him a big, bright smile for the first time since getting home from work. Turning your back to him, you climb up to the top of the bed before dropping onto one of the big pillows. With a satisfied groan, you bury your face into the soft fabric and close your eyes for a second before pulling one of your legs up, bending it at the knee. The movement causes the fabric of Frank’s shirt to slowly slide down the slope of your back, exposing both your panties and your ass to the man standing at the foot of the bed.
“Yeah? Like that?"
He asks in that deep, groggy voice, and you nod, rubbing your cheek against the pillow without bothering to open your eyes as you do so.
“Alright.”
He mumbles, and you feel the mattress dip under the weight of his body after a moment. You listen to your body, to its needs and wants, and push your ass out slightly towards him with a quiet, innocent moan.
Frank scoffs loudly, shaking his head as he climbs over you, his arms propped up on either side of your body as he holds himself up above you. 
“Thought you were too tired to pull that shit.”
He points out in a teasing manner, and you crack one eye open slowly, the corner of your mouth pulling up into a playful smile.
“Oh no, I’m never too tired to be a pain in the ass to you.”
You mumble, somewhat to him, somewhat into the fabric of the pillow, before he breathes out a small laugh and leans down to press a kiss right on your shoulder. You watch as the muscles in his arm tense when he's pushing himself up again.
“Yeah, okay, you gonna let me do this or do you want to keep being an ass?”
You grin at the word and glance back at him, but he cuts you off before you manage to say anything.
“Don’t, do not fucking answer that.”
You laugh out loud, but the laughter quickly turns into a deep grunt when Frank pushes his hands against your ass. You feel his fingers digging into your body when he squeezes you tight, and you lift your hips up slightly, pushing into his touch. 
“Yeaaah, s’what I thought, you like that?”
You hum softly and hope it’s enough of an answer as the firm grip on your body disappears for a second, just to come back a moment later. 
“I got you now, kid, s okay."
He grumbles, pushing your legs apart some so he can sit in between them, right behind your ass. Pushing the hem of your shirt up, he gently brushes his fingers over your back. His hands make their way to the sides of your body, fingertips brushing up and down your ribs for a moment, and you let out a loud sigh.
“That’s it, good girl, again.”
You repeat the deep breath in and a calm exhale, allowing him to lead you through this, this one time. Dragging his hands lower and lower down your body, Frank works his fingers over your skin. The firm but gentle sensation of his touch spreads from your back and sides to your ass, then lower onto the back of your thighs and then calves when he reaches his arm behind his back. 
“Mmmm, Frankie”
Your hips push up once again when his thumbs dig into the spot right under your ass, and he breathes out a laugh. 
“Yeah, okay.”
You don’t have to explain it to him, he knows how to read your body. Slowly dragging his thumb over the fabric of your panties, he slips his four other fingers between your legs, cupping your pussy over your underwear. 
You whine quietly, your eyes still closed as he begins to draw small circles against your most sensitive spot, the tension in your body releasing into his touch. 
Humming quietly, you snuggle into the pillow, letting yourself fully relax now as the stress of the day leaves with your satisfied hum.
“Yeah? This what you like? Hmm?”
You push yourself back into his hand, leaning harder into his touch as an answer, and Frank tightens his hold onto you in response. The intensity of the sensation rises as he pushes his fingers harder against you. 
The tired, but honest smile on your face indicates how good of a job he’s doing. Well, that and the way the fabric of your underwear dampens more as the minutes pass by.
“Frank-“
You mumble out quietly, reaching your hand behind your back and hooking your fingers under the hem of your panties.
His touch disappears immediately as he pulls his hands away from your body, letting you dictate exactly what happens. 
He watches you fiddle with the fabric for a moment before you quickly tug it down your thighs and assists once it gets stuck behind your ass.
“Yeah that’s it sweetheart, show me what you want.”
You push your ass up slightly with an inpatient sigh once he slides the fabric down past your ankles and tosses it off to the side.
Once again, his big, warm hands find their way to your back, fingers pressing into your skin as he takes a moment to massage your muscles in your back, and then you feel him push the fabric up higher to tend to your shoulders as well. Feeling the bulge between his legs press into your ass the second he leans down to trace the back of your neck with his lips, you hum satisfied, eyes still closed, lips curled up into a smile. 
“Really, Frankie? That much?”
You tease, and he rolls his eyes at your words, shaking his head with a sly smirk still on. 
“Yeaaah yeah, shut up.”
He starts before leaning back down, his lips right by your ear this time. His hand pushes down between your legs, touching you directly now, and you know he can feel your body’s response to the whole thing.
“Really, kid? This much?” 
You huff out a laugh as a response and reach behind you to wrap your fingers around his wrist and keep his hand in place. 
“Not like it's my fault.”
You mumble quietly and hear Frank’s chuckle from behind you.
“Okay, calm down, just tell me what you want, sweetheart.”
“I want to feel good.”
“Yeah?”
You nod.
“Want me to make you feel good, baby?”
Another nod before you feel Frank’s hand push under your body and cup your chest firmly. His thumb brushes over your nipple as his lips brush down your spine, over your back. Feeling your body slow down, you allow yourself to relax properly as the warm, familiar feeling grows stronger between your legs. 
He pushes his hand right there again, touching you right where you long for it the most.
“Mhmmm.”
You hum quietly, as his three fingers push between your folds before he starts tracing circles around your clit. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to get lost in the feeling, your body finally relaxing after the exhausting day. Maybe in some other circumstances your mind would slip. If you were alone, if you tried to distract yourself on your own, your mind would wander, but not now. Not with Frank right there in the bed with you. He made it…difficult to focus on anything else, knew how to keep your mind occupied, how to prevent your thoughts from wandering where you didn't want them to go. 
His touch strengthens, and you feel your back arching slightly with a quiet moan slipping past your lips.
“Ah-fuck.”
You grunt the moment his fingers slip inside you. 
“Shh shh shh-”
Frank mumbles quietly, pushing them further in with ease thanks to your body’s intense reaction to his generous attempts to help.
“That okay?”
His low, groggy mumbling continues while he pushes his thumb against you, working on your clit as you feel yourself clenching around his thick fingers. Frank grunts loudly, watching your involuntary response to his question.
“Yeaah, s’what I thought.”
“Mmmmm-you’re pushing it.”
You whisper and he scoffs.
“Yeah? Shit, am I- hmm?”
He lowers the tone of his voice to match yours, leaning back down with his lips right by your ear yet again.
“Just tryna make you feel good, baby.”
He reassures you, watching your lips part as you feel the center of his palm push flat against your center, the wet sounds of your body filling the room slowly as he begins to slip his fingers in and out of your body once, twice, and again, again and again.
You hum loudly this time, biting into your lower lip before you angle your lower back up slightly in an attempt to chase the sensation every time he slips his fingers out almost completely. 
“Frank-”
You start, but he cuts you off, pressing his thumb harder against your clit. 
“Mmm, Frank-”
You repeat yourself with a loud moan before your muscles tense up, and you use the built-up force to push your ass back into him when you feel him slip his three fingers out of your pussy again.
“Ah- Fuck!”
He groans at the unexpected feeling, panting loudly when your ass pushes against the bulge in his pants, and you feel his tight grip on your thighs once you push into him again.
“Shit- okay, okay-”
He does his best to focus once again, and you breathe out a laugh, entertained by the slight shift in the dynamic.
“You okay there, Castle?”
You purr, glancing back to watch the way his eyes focus on your ass, feeling his hips buck up into you slightly. 
“Shit-”
Letting go of your thigh, he reaches up, quickly grabbing one of the pillows lying by your head before lifting your hips up a couple inches above the mattress and sliding it right under your body to help with the angle.
“Good?”
He asks, glancing up at you, the big, brown eyes fixed on yours as he awaits your answer for a moment before you nod quickly. 
“Couldn't have done it better myself.”
He chuckles, shaking his head as he drags his hand down your back, stopping right above your ass.
“Yeah no shit-”
You roll your eyes at his words and rest your head back on the pillow, closing your eyes one more time. The sound of the metal buckle of his belt travels through your entire body, and you feel a slight tingling sensation between your legs. Pushing them apart softly, you earn yourself another
“Oh, fuck-”
From Frank, as he now gets to properly see the fruit of his labor. You lay in front of him, naked from the waist down, your legs spread open, your pussy wet from how he touched you before. 
“God damn it, kid-.”
He whispers quietly under his breath. 
“You know how perfect you look? Hmm?”
He asks, working his hand under the waistband of his boxers to pull himself out. 
“I ever tell you that?”
“Once or twice.”
You tease, answering the question without opening your eyes, arching your back slightly to make sure he gets a good view. 
“Ffff-”
You glance back this time, the wet sounds convincing you the view would be worth it, and it is. You watch for a moment as he works his hand over the length of his cock, his lips parted as he pants loudly with every other stroke, his fingers wrapped tightly around his length.
Gradually slowing down the movement, Frank holds onto the base of his cock, lining himself up with your exposed center. You hum softly, and your hips rise off of the mattress the moment you feel the head of his cock between your legs.
“Mhmm, just like that.”
You whisper to encourage him, with a slight note of impatience in the tone of your voice. 
“Yeah? So..s that what you want me to do?”
“Frank.”
You warn him, knowing exactly where this is going.
“What if I just-”
He continues.
“Frank, don't you f-”
He cuts you off, pushing his cock in between your folds and your whole body jerks forward at the sudden, unexpected sensation accompanied by a loud moan that slips past your lips.
“Fr- fuck!”
You swear, gripping the bed sheets before pushing your ass back against his cock, feeling it rub over your center, between your folds and nudging at your sensitive clit. 
Frank laughs loudly, louder than he should in your opinion, considering this was his–and his only–fault. 
“Shiiit kid, didn't mean to get you this bad.”
He attempts to calm your body, his big hand resting on your lower back as he continues to slide his cock in between your folds, teasing your entrance and clit with every single one of your now sped up breaths. 
“Frank, this- isn't helping.”
You whine out, listening to your body, desperate to feel him inside now.
“Give- shit, give me a second here, kid, this-”
He pants louder now, his other hand on your ass, spreading you open for a better view. 
“I swear to god if you come before I get to feel you, I’m sleeping alone.”
He scoffs loudly, hanging his head low as he stops touching himself. 
“That a threat?”
He questions your intentions with that sly smirk on his face, and you prop your chest up slightly.
“Wanna find out?”
You glance back, eyebrow raised.
“Nah, won't risk it.”
He states quietly, his chest rising and falling quickly, his cock hard between your legs. 
“You scared of me, Castle?”
You mumble the question out as you lay back down on the big pillow, feeling the head of his cock right at your entrance now. 
“Yeah, actually, how did you know?”
“Luck guess.”
“Yeah?”
He continues the conversation, pushing his cock inside you slowly. You let your lips part, fall open as you feel him deeper and deeper inside you. You can feel the way it stretches you open, a familiar feeling you got used to since being with Frank. 
“That good? Hmm?”
He asks quietly, leaning slowly over your body as he thrusts into you.
“Mhmmm.”
You hum out a confirmation as the movements continue, you feel your body rocking back and forth with his body, with the bed. 
“Good, wouldn't wanna be on your bad side.”
The thrusts grow stronger as he reaches up to hold onto the headboard, grunting loudly as you clench around him. 
With his cock buried deep inside you, you manage another response.
“Keep doing what you're doing, and you'll be safe.”
“Yes ma’am.”
The trusting continues for a while after, as he tries to do his best to keep it together long enough for you to feel satisfied. His other hand wraps around your throat at some point, and he lifts your head up slightly. Your breathing speeds up, and you pant loudly through your parted lips as you feel yourself getting closer to the climax.
"Attagirl, you feel it?"
He asked, no cockiness in his voice this time. It's an honest question, he sounded almost concerned.
"Mhm."
Your quiet hum has to work as an answer for now as you grip the bed sheets tighter, feeling his cock nude the underside of your stomach from within you.
"God damn it, kid-"
He mumbles into your shoulder, lips brushing over your skin when he feels your walls clenching around him harder now.
"Frank-"
"Shh shh shh, I got it."
He reassures you, resting your head back onto the mattress before reaching down between your legs.
"You just relax, kid, let me do this for you."
585 notes · View notes
eloves-writes · 3 months
Note
How do you feel about Virgin!Reader x Coryo where reader wheres a purity ring and Coryo thinks it is adorable and one day she just hands it to him on a chain and he immediately gets the hint and is like “Are you sure?!?!”
anon i read this before i left for college this morning and have genuinely been kicking my feet and giggling ALL DAY.
mdni, 18+ content under the cut
you had worn your purity ring since the day you turned thirteen, vowing to stay pure until the ring was replaced by a wedding band. it had been easy throughout your teen years to maintain these vows, as none of the capitol boys were particularly alluring to you at all- until your first day at the university, when coriolanus snow arrived back from his peace-keeping summer in the districts. his hair had been buzzed and grown back out, his blond curls starting to return but he wasn’t the same man who mentored the songbird girl in the hunger games. he was dripping with ambition and a thirst for power, and it was attractive in a way that almost scared you. somehow, you had lucked out and gotten his attention, and by graduation your lives had intertwined in every way except one.
coriolanus didn’t mind waiting for you, because he knew that it would be worth it to be the only person who would ever touch you. sure, it was difficult at times when all he wanted to do was rip your clothes from your body and fuck you sensless, but he could wait. he was a patient man.
but you couldn’t wait any longer. your own fingers, though they felt sufficiently sinful, could only do so much. the thought of coriolanus between your thighs was not enough; you needed him to finally touch you. make you his. mark you in a way that couldn’t be covered and wear your purity ring around his neck as a trophy.
you mindlessly played with the gold chain between your fingers as you stood outside coriolanus’ study, drawing up the confidence to knock. it wasn’t that you were scared; just nervously excited in a way that was new to you.
“come in,” corio’s voice spoke from inside.
you opened the door tentatively, a subconscious smile on your face when you saw the man sat at his desk working away. “how did you know i was there?”
corio continued to write as he replied. “i could just sense your presence, my love.”
after a moment of silence, he put down his pen and looked up at you. “to what do i owe the pleasure darling?”
“i have a gift for you,” you responded, trying to sound normal as if you weren’t about to give yourself up to the man.
coriolanus narrowed his eyes at you in friendly suspicion. “you’re giving me a gift? how the tables turn.”
it was true that he liked to shower you with gifts, from bouquets of roses to dresses to intricately expensive jewellery.
you playfully rolled your eyes, walking over to his desk and placing the chain in his outstretched hand. he took a moment to inspect the necklace, delicately fingering the pendant.
he knew what it was in seconds. he had spent many hours over the last few years staring at your hands, this simple gold ring sitting pretty on your dainty fingers. and you were gifting it to him. which meant it was no longer on your dainty fingers, which could only mean one thing.
corio placed it on his desk and stood in front of you, a solemn expression on his face. “are you sure?”
it wasn’t how you had expected him to react. “yes, corio. i’m sure.”
he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, gazing into your eyes with equal love and lust.
“thank god.”
suddenly, his mouth was on yours, and though you had kissed him many times before, there was a profound urgency now that ignited something deep inside of you, hotter and more fervid than you’d ever felt alone in your bed at night.
you were on your back on corio’s silk sheets, pleasure coarsing through your vains as he drove himself into your tight pussy. his pace was reserved as he tried not to overwhelm you, but you felt so fucking good that he thought himself a saint for not snapping his hips as fast and hard as he possibly could. the feeling of snow on top of you, your bare bodies pressed together as if you would die should you not be touching every inch of one another, his cock filling you and hitting your g spot with every thrust. your warm virgin cunt squeezing him tightly as if you were trying to hold him there forever. it was well worth the wait, losing yourself completely in his filthy, beautiful words. drunk with pleasure and corio and love and his mouth on your neck and his cum spilling inside of you.
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msafterhours · 5 months
Text
Two Hands
Male Reader x woo!ah! & EL7Z UP Nana (Nayeon)
~25k words
“We should do this more often,” Nayeon murmurs into your chest.
“I mean, sure, I’d be happy to come support your group any time I’m not—”
“No, not that!” she exclaims, giggling slightly as she pulls away just enough to look up at you.  “I mean this.”
And she pulls you in even tighter, leaving you short of breath in more ways than one.
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Nights like this make you wish the world was a bit kinder to you.  You’re bundled under multitudes of layers of thick clothes, thin mask and scarf completing your near head to toe coverage, yet you still can’t seem to keep your teeth from chattering incessantly.  Your efforts manage to preserve some of your warmth, but another shiver reminds you of the urgent need to get inside and get some food inside of you.  It’s really, really cold outside.
Thus, you swear the gleaming gates of heaven themselves stand before you when you catch a glimpse of the bright lights of your favorite little ramen shop.  Fighting against the harsh winter air, you trudge through the icy slush, cursing the severity of the snowstorm and the stupidity of your decision to splurge on a new pair of casual shoes instead of investing in more functional footwear.  It’s really, really cold outside.
A sigh of relief escapes your lips as you open the door and feel the warm embrace of the heated air, but your solace is swiftly supplanted by dread as you look around and notice that the shop’s well over full capacity, with little if any seating room available.
"Whatever, let's just get in line and hope for the best," you think to yourself as you take your place in line behind a pair of old ladies.
“I swear, it was a rabbit that ran past us!” one exclaims.
“Absolutely not, I know a squirrel when I see one!” the other insists, stomping her foot in frustration.
tick...
tock...
After a few surprisingly entertaining minutes, you finally make it to the front of the line and the familiar face behind the counter.
"The same as the last hundred or so times?" the old lady asks with a wry smile.
"Hey hey hey, ninety-two times, thank you very much!" you answer with mock indignation.  "But yes, I’m well aware how much of my budget goes to your shop, Aunt Kim."
"I wouldn't have it any other way," she fires back, tapping away at the screen as she yells your order to the kitchen.  "Would you?"
"Absolutely not," you answer without hesitation as you leave a generous tip.  "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna attempt the impossible and try to find somewhere to sit in your stupidly crowded shop."
"Good luck!" she calls out as you turn and walk away.  "You're going to need it!"
You sweep the room once, twice.  Neither survey produces anything but depressing results.  A third time, just in case.  Nothing’s changed.  A heavy, dramatic sigh escapes you as you ready yourself to accept your seemingly inevitable fate.  But before you can concede, a bright glint in the corner of your vision offers hope, causing you to turn and find what you've been desperately looking for.
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A girl, seemingly around your age, with glowing golden hair that shines brilliantly, reflecting the warm yellow lights scattered around the shop, sits alone.  Your heart leaps for joy as you see, most importantly, an unutilized chair across from her.  You cling to that shred of hope, quickly making your way over before coming to a stop in front of her table.
A few moments more than you can endure pass as she continues to tap away her phone, either not noticing your presence or choosing to ignore it.  Eventually, you clear your throat and wave your hand in front of her, causing her to jump slightly and finally look up at you.  Your eyes meet, and you feel the words escape your mind in the moment you hold her gaze.  It takes a second, then another, but you finally remember your goal and cease your staring.
"Um, sorry to bother you, but … there are no other seats available, and I really, really, don't want to have to go outside again yet," you hurriedly explain, praying to whoever’s listening that this random, empyrean being you just met might miraculously take pity upon you.  "Would it be alright if I sat here with you?"
She regards you for many moments, each feeling like an eternity as you stand there awkwardly.  She stares, deep into your eyes then deeper still, hunting an ulterior motive.  Her eyes flash and dart, scanning the singular you as if you’re an entire crowd.  You know not what she searches for, but whatever test of virtue you’re subjected to, she seems satisfied with the result as she nods and gestures to the seat across from her.
You finally release the breath you hadn't realized you were holding, thanking her profusely as you join her at the table.
Your display finally earns a crack in the ice, shifting her skeptical expression to one of sick amusement as she comments, "If you’re this scared of the cold, why are you out so late?  Surely you didn’t forget to go shopping before the snowstorm … right?  Surely."
You feel your ears burning with a warmth from deep, deep within as your embarrassment flares up.  Your initial response tells truths, but her smug expression leads your words elsewhere.  "Would you believe I just really wanted ramen from my favorite shop and was willing to suffer the consequences to do so?"
Her sinister smile widens as she leans in and counters, "I just might … if you didn't sound like a guilty schoolboy who got caught trying to copy someone's test answers."
She holds your gaze once again, deep brown eyes delving into the depths of your soul, trapping you within a pocket of agonizing silence amongst the shop’s raucous atmosphere.
"Well?" she whispers breathlessly.  "Are you gonna use your words?  Or are you just gonna let those firetruck red ears do the talking?"
You exhale heavily, feeling your faux hubris exit your body as you confess, "Alright, fine.  You got me.  No more lies.  I might've sorta ruined up my planning for the week and ran out of food last night, alright?  Now, please, I beg you, stop looking at me like that."
Your response catches her off guard, but you’re quick to join her in shock as she bursts into a quiet fit of laughter.  Her mirth immediately entrances you; each note a part of the chorus that dances on your eardrums and seals itself deep into your heart.
You wrack your brain for a proper retort, hoping to turn the tides of this war of words, but your rebuttal is prevented by the arrival of Aunt Kim with your meal.  You thank her profusely as she sets it down, earning a smile before she turns to address your companion.
"Would you like me to take your bowl, Nayeon?" she asks, smiling at your companion in a way you’d believed was reserved for only you.
"Yes please, thank you, ma'am," Nayeon responds, picking up the bowl and handing it to her.
"Bah, you and your stubbornness," Aunt Kim grumbles.  "With how often you come here, the formality just feels stuffy.  Just call me Aunt Kim like this other addict does."
“I could probably do that.  You could also agree to call me Nana like all my other friends do,” Nayeon answers back, a genuine smile gracing her features for the first time you’ve seen.
Aunt Kim rolls her eyes dramatically as she pats your head affectionately in the way she knows you hate, then walks away with that same warm smile that you’d thought was saved exclusively for you, but now know is also shared with the girl sitting across from you.
"Oh, you’re a regular too?" you ask as you begin to enjoy your meal.  "I'm surprised I haven't seen you before."
"I'm usually here later," Nayeon responds as she idly taps away on her phone again.  "Not huge on coming here when it's so busy."
"I totally get that.  I'm usually here earlier, before the big rush, but this week has been crazy.  Add the storm on top of that, and I guess that leaves me here, forced to settle for getting swept up in the dinner surge."
"Oh, so you're settling for my company, huh?  I see how it is," Nayeon replies, feigning indignation as she crosses her arms and huffs in disbelief.  "I guess next time a popsicle wants to share a table, I'll make sure to send him back to the freezer."
"Hey hey hey, easy now," you reply, raising your hands in surrender.  "I'm not a huge fan of this chaos either, but I am eternally grateful for your company and your great sacrifice of existing in my vicinity."
"You're very welcome," Nayeon offhandedly remarks.  "Your expression mid-head pat was almost hilarious enough to justify my continued tolerance of your presence."
And just like that, you feel the conversation derail, coming to a screeching halt as hints of embarrassment creep up your neck and render your face even more flush.  With a grumble and a rather undignified pout, you let your eyes fall to the far warmer bowl of ramen that awaits you and begin enjoying your meal, causing Nayeon to hum in amused satisfaction at your surrender as she returns to her phone and resumes tapping away at what sounds like a game.
While you'd begrudgingly admit that you’ve enjoyed the conversation thus far, you’re pleasantly surprised at how easy it is to simply enjoy the serene feeling of sharing Nayeon's company.  In fact, the silence grants you a brief chance to study the countenance of your dining companion, and you’re more than happy to seize the opportunity.
It seems that the only thing sharper than her words is her jawline, which is itself a sharp contrast from her other, softer features.  As much as you wish you could stare back into her eyes once more, her downward gaze and focus on her phone makes doing so impossible, "forcing" you instead to focus on her lips, which she occasionally bites in frustration, causing your heart to swell in a way that feels unsafe yet anything but unnatural.
"Enjoying the view?"
Well shit.
Your eyes barely have to drift upwards to meet her gaze, where her eyes await you once more with a scrutinizing yet intrigued twinkle.  While only moments ago you were wishing you could stare into her eyes once more, the combination of the intensity of her stare and your embarrassment forces you to look down in shame as you meekly mutter a quiet apology.
"Nah, you're not getting off that easily," Nayeon says, setting aside her phone and leaning in.  "What'd you think?  And please do be honest.  You wouldn’t want to break your promise, would you?"
After only a moment's hesitation, you stare back into her eyes and open the floodgates.
"Well, it's only been a couple minutes, but I've decided that I love the way your hair glows like golden honey in this light, I'm pretty sure your jawline is sharp enough to cut through diamond, and I'm definitely sure that if you keep biting your lip the way you do whenever you're focused or frustrated or whatever that I'm going to be too dizzy to walk home."
“...”
“...”
tick...
“Oh.”
tock...
The raucous atmosphere of the shop seems to once again fade away as you intently hold the gaze of the girl you recently met but feel like you’ve known forever.  You can’t shake this odd sense of familiarity, like you had seen her before somewhere, but can’t quite put your finger on where.
Regardless, by this point, the silence between you has stretched to an uncomfortable length of time.  After bearing it a moment longer as you attempt to gather your resolve, you ask, "So, uh, what do you think?  I mean, I'd also prefer it if you were honest, but I don't have a promise to hold you to, so I guess I'll just have to settle for asking nicely and hoping for the best?"
Your follow-up seems to finally shock Nayeon out of her reverie, leading her to finally pick her jaw up off the floor and respond, "I mean, okay, good to know.  A little much, not gonna lie, but keep talking like that and I might have to let you keep doing what you're doing.  Can’t say I hate the attention."
She pauses for a moment, allowing her eyes to run across your upper body before meeting your gaze once more and adding, "And hey, you're not too rough on the eyes either."
tick...
Only a single serene second slips by as you hold each other's gaze before you see inspiration flash across her visage.  The glimmer in her eyes is quickly joined by a familiar smirk as she glances down to your lips before returning to look you in the eyes.
Then she steals your heart.
Again.
With that unreasonably sultry lip bite.
Again.
"And I thought the cold was going to be the reason I died tonight," you whisper, quietly enough that only she could hear.
Just in case she hadn't yet properly staked her claim on your heart, Nayeon responds with potentially the only thing more charming than her lip bites; her laughter, which once again resonates across the table directly through your eardrums, across your inner bridge, and into your heart.
You open your mouth, hoping to continue the conversation further, but find yourself abruptly cut off by a sudden series of discordant cacophonies as her phone vibrates harshly against the wooden table.  You watch on in poorly hidden dismay as she checks it and her mirthful expression transforms into a grimace at the messages' contents.
"Ugh, I need to get back to my place," she explains as she begins to gather her things.
"Oh, okay," you sigh.  "Thanks again for letting me sit with you and for the … mostly pleasant conversation."
Her frown fades, revealing hints of the smile hidden within.  "Sure, no problem.  I'm sure Ms. Kim would have wanted me dead if she heard I mistreated her other major source of income."
You can’t help but chuckle at her words, though the laughter feels cheerless in the face of more pressing concerns.  "Am I going to see you again?"
Her eyes stare into your own once more, piercing through to your core.  "Who knows?  We've been coming to this shop as frequently as we have for as long as we have for who knows how long and haven't run into each other until now.  Who's to say it won't take another couple of years until our paths cross again?"
And with that sobering perspective, the girl you’ve come to know as Nayeon stands, giving you only the slightest nod in farewell before stepping away from the table.  You watch her as she takes her first few steps, feeling your heart sink lower and lower as the distance between you grows larger and larger.
tock...
But suddenly, you almost swear you can see a lightbulb go off above her head, causing her to turn and walk back to the table.
"You know, I never did catch your name," Nayeon remarks casually.
Despite the exhilaration of your heart soaring at her return, you try to maintain a neutral expression as you reply, "Perfect, now we both have a reason to meet again."
While it might just be your imagination, you dare to hope that it’s your words that transform her sly smirk into a genuine smile that reaches her eyes.
"Oh yeah?  What's your reason?"
"Who said I only have one?"
With her curiosity sated and ego sufficiently inflated, Nayeon gives you a small smile as a farewell, then turns and walks out of the ramen shop.  And as the clock ticks ever onward and you sit alone at the table, pondering what impact this night might have on the rest of your life, you can only hope that she hasn’t walked away for the final time.
tick...
tock...
tick...
tock...
It really was bearable the first couple of days.
But the days turned to weeks and the weeks turned to months and the months began to feel like years.  And as time mercilessly continues to pass by, you unsurprisingly find yourself increasingly affected by the thought of her.
You realized something was seriously wrong when entire weeks began to blur together and each visit to the ramen shop left you feeling colder and lonelier than your previous visit.  It isn’t long before the intrusive thoughts remodel your mind and claim it as their own, leaving you wondering if you had lost your love for your favorite restaurant and your best chance at love in a single night.  Despite the depressing potential of those dramatic notions, you attempt to cast them aside, instead focusing your efforts on maintaining your previous routine and, more importantly, meeting Nayeon again.
Since you assume Aunt Kim will rat you out to Nayeon if you’re too desperate in your attempts, you choose a more subtle approach.  Instead of showing up every night, you alter your schedule to better fit hers.  The awkward “middle” shifts at your work are rarely prioritized, so you’re easily able to make the change and justify your abnormally late arrivals to the shop.
However, your efforts fall short, leaving you wanting, craving even a glimpse of the radiant smile that graces your dreams far more often than you’d readily admit.  And even though you desperately want to ask Aunt Kim if she’s even seen Nayeon, you’re well aware that outside assistance would break the unspoken rules of the game.  So, even as your heart yearns for her, you choose to continue playing.  Even in the face of defeat, you persevere.
All the while, a nagging feeling remains in the back of your mind.  Though you can’t figure out why, you’re sure you know her from somewhere.  The passage of time allows that nagging to fester, growing exponentially until it becomes all you can think about.
It’s not long before the pressure becomes unbearable, forcing you to cave.  Nayeon’s a fairly popular name, but luckily, you’re able to fall back on her nickname of “Nana”.  Thus, on a day that’s become your new norm, you dedicate part of your shift to searching through Naver pages, eventually finding what you’ve been looking for.  Kind of.
You find that she’s the main dancer and leader of a girl group named woo!ah!, one of the seemingly endless number of new K-Pop groups that’ve slipped under your radar.  As you scroll through the pages and watch video after video, you unsurprisingly enjoy their music, yet feel a sense of unease grow with each passing video.  You’d expected feelings of excitement and joy to burst forth with each of Nayeon’s appearances, but instead you’re met by dread, trepidation, and a plethora of other unpleasant emotions that you can’t identify amidst the maelstrom rampaging in your heart.
You finish their MV playlist depressingly quickly, finding far more questions than answers at the end of this rainbow.  Unfortunately, before you can reach a satisfying conclusion, the clock strikes twelve and begins to sing, signaling the end of your shift.  After packing up your things, you depart, and, following a short bus ride, you arrive at the intersection where you turn right to visit the noodle shop once again.
And an hour later, after you’ve stood in line, placed your order, found somewhere to sit, enjoyed your meal, and looked over every square millimeter of the room, you find yourself alone.
Once.
Again.
tick...
tock...
Seemingly a moment later, you’re surprised to find yourself at home.  You rationalize that your body must have moved on its own and your brain must not have cared to encode the memory of walking this familiar path, but even this explanation leaves you with serious concerns.  As you reach into your pocket and feel the warmth from your fingers being sapped by the key’s cold metal, you simply feel … tired.
What’s the point of changing your routine if your days are bound to end the same as always?
What’s the point of searching for warmth if you continue to be left alone in the cold?
What’s the point of listening to your heart if all it leads you to is the deafening silence of your empty apartment?
You can feel it in the air as you turn the key, open the door, and enter the suffocating silence of your apartment.  The air’s cold.  Heavy.  The room’s dark.  Empty.  And you’re sure.  Ready.  As much as your heart yearns to chase Nayeon, your mind is telling you that it’s time.  Time to return to the routine you’ve relied on for so, so long.  You begin by sending a quick email to your supervisor, requesting a change back to your previous schedule.  Then, after a few more hours that won’t be worth remembering, you willingly wade into the darkness.
You mourn the loss of what could have been.  You allow the clouds to roll in, allow the falling rain to drown out the sounds of your heart beating against its cage and its cries for freedom.  You pray that the storm will wash away the memories of that night.  You hope, as desperately as ever, that you’ll find her.  But if your heart can’t have what it wants, you’ll ask your mind to forget her.
tick…..
tock.
tick…..
tock.
Is it eight days later?  Nine days?  Ten?  Your memory might have failed you again, but routine provides you necessary stability once more, helping you through the motions of working the once familiar morning shift before guiding you through the short bus ride to your stop and the subsequent walk to an always familiar intersection and a newly unwelcome decision.
If you simply continue forwards, you’ll arrive at your apartment, where you know that leftovers and loneliness amidst the silence of solitude awaits.  However, if routine truly is still in the driver’s seat, you’ll turn to your right, towards Aunt Kim’s, where you know that ramen and loneliness amidst the voices of others awaits.
Thus, despite the clear blue sky and the bright sun that signaled the early signs of winter’s departure, decision paralysis sets in.  The light flashes yellow, yet you need to decide, now.  Then, it flashes red, yet you know you need to go.  Finally, the indicator flashes green, yet you remain motionless as the crowd begins to surge past you.
It’s there, in that moment, where you stop fighting anxiety’s powerful pull, allowing it to drag you under, away from your routine.  It’s there, in that moment, where you give up, instead electing to return home.  Yet, it’s there, in that moment, where you feel a gentle tug on your arm and see a flash of warm golden light in your periphery.
"Come on, you gotta get there before it gets busy," Nayeon whispers, mock urgency masking her features and veiling her words.  "Otherwise, you might have to ask some weirdo if you can share a table with them."
You’re all too eager to allow yourself to be dragged along, heart nearly bursting out of your chest as you loudly exclaim, “Nayeon!  I—”
Your words are a jumbled mess, bouncing around the inside of your skull, desperately trying to escape all at once, but you hold them all back as the other pedestrians turn, glaring at you as they judge your sudden outburst.  Once you finish offering meek smiles and apologetic waves, you whisper back, “You’re right, that sounds terrible!  Let’s go!”
As she continues to drag you along, you take the opportunity to study the beaming visage of your guide once more.  The passage of time allows you to view the literal girl of your dreams in a new light, and you find Nayeon’s just as radiant in today’s pleasant sunshine as she was so many weeks ago, hidden away from the harsh snowfalls of the early Korean winter.
"What should I say?" you wonder to yourself as you allow her to lead you down the busy sidewalk.  "Would it be too forward to say I missed her after only meeting her once before?"
A familiar cadence, the ringing of a very particular bell, cuts your internal musings short, shunting you back into reality as Nayeon opens the door to Aunt Kim's ramen shop.  Nayeon finally detaches from your arm, leaving you feeling cold and empty.  Not unlike your freezer that fateful night, so many months ago.
After shaking off the last remnants of your reverie, you step forward and join her in line.  Despite being a fair bit taller than her, you can’t seem to make out what exactly she’s doing on her phone as you both wait to place your order.
It only takes a few moments of snooping before a wave of guilt washes over you as you realize your invasion of her privacy, causing you to shift your gaze elsewhere, to other areas of the shop.  Areas such as the table where you had sat the previous time, which currently sits unoccupied.
"Another missed opportunity," you think to yourself as you grieve the lost potential and come to another realization.  "Not to mention the fact that she held the door for me because I was so lost in thought!  Ugh, you're blowing it!  Stop overthinking everything."
After a few short minutes idly spent looking anywhere except towards Nayeon, all of the customers in line in front of you finish placing their orders and go to find a seat.  You aren’t surprised as Nayeon needs mere moments to recite her clearly well-practiced offer, but you are caught off guard when Aunt Kim leans close to Nayeon, whispering something you can’t make out amidst the low murmur of the crowd inhabiting your second home.
The rational part of your brain informs you that, at most, a few seconds pass.  Your emotions tell a far different story, flooding your overwrought mind with a deluge of disquieting dangers and forcing you to consider each of the painful possibilities and worst-case scenarios that comprise the tsunami attempting to drag you into the depths of self-doubt.  Eventually, the two part, and as Nayeon turns to face you, her mischievous expression and gleaming smile ignites a flame in you, burning away any frost that’s formed since you left her embrace.
Her eyes flick over towards Aunt Kim, seemingly challenging you to approach the elderly woman who stands behind the counter with crossed arms and a dangerously amused expression.  This time, however, Nayeon doesn’t even give your words enough time to get caught in your throat, instead simply walking past you and allowing the silky strands of her hair to brush your shoulder and convey all the intent she needs to.
As you gather what little cognitive function remains, you’re especially grateful for the familiarity of this place as Aunt Kim enters your order with well-practiced quickness.  You’re uncharacteristically afraid of meeting her eyes as you sign your name and begin to enter the same generous tip you’ve always given, but her scoff of indignation as you meekly hold out your hand for your order number forces you to do so.
"So." she says bluntly, withholding the plastic indicator as she awaits your response.
"Yes ma’am?” you ask, voice laced with saccharine innocence.
“Oh gods, don’t tell me that that girl’s stubbornness has infected you too,” Aunt Kim responds exasperatedly.  “You finally managed to meet up with her again, eh?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you respond as you delete your previous number, instead entering an extra-large tip before braving Aunt Kim’s gaze once more, silently conveying your plea for mercy as you literally attempt to buy her silence.
Aunt Kim’s eyes flash down briefly, widening for a moment before a deep, jovial laugh echoes out from her, reverberating throughout the room as she holds your gaze once more.
“All right, act sly all you like.  I'm just tired of seeing someone come in alone fifty times in a row just to spend their time here hoping and searching for a certain someone.”
The banter is unique, odd, and comfortably routine as you ease into its familiar warmth.  Your brow arches dramatically as you declare, “Why Aunt Kim, I can’t stand these accusations!  It’s only been forty-six times since then!”
You watch as Aunt Kim’s smile fades, shifting from a display of mirth to a thin obfuscation of sadness as she responds, “You’re not the only one who’s been sitting alone at a table for two.  Now go!”
And as she pushes your number into your hands and sends your mind into a tailspin, you’re left with no other option but to turn and allow the next customer to set up.  Your body’s autopilot takes over, turning you further until you face the table where this all started, only to find it occupied.
By none other than Nayeon herself.
You lock eyes for the briefest of moments before she avoids your gaze, poorly pretending to be enthralled by the black screen of her phone.  As the slightest hints of confidence begin to emerge from within, you walk up to the table, acting as casually as you can, pulling out a chair and taking a seat across from her.
After offering up a prayer to whoever’s listening, desperately hoping that you wouldn’t blow this chance, you look straight at her and ask, “So, how have you been?”
“Oh, so we’re just getting right into it, huh?” Nayeon asks, already crafting the thin veneer of the haughtiness she’d used to shield herself before.  “Not even going to thank me for saving you a seat?  I know you’ve had issues finding them before.”
You raise your hands up in mock surrender as you admit, “Alright, fair enough.  I am very grateful for your act of charity once again, and I’ll be sure to make it up to you.”
“I’m glad to see you’ve come to your senses,” she declares, obvious satisfaction in her smirk as she nods in approval.  “To answer your question, I’ve been fortunate enough to be busy, so that’s always good.  Aside from work, I guess it’s mostly just been working out, spending time with those I’m closest to, and coming here.  What about you?”
“I’ve …” your voice trails off for a moment, granting you silence as you meticulously craft your next line.  “I’ve had better months, but I honestly can’t complain too much.  Work’s been consistent, so like you said, that’s always good.  Plus, I always have this place to come back to, so that’s a big plus.”
“So, you come here often?” Nayeon asks, waggling her eyebrows in the most tropey, dramatic way possible.  It’s clearly meant to be humorous, and you’re all too eager to reward her efforts with a smile.  You just also hope it buys you time to reclaim the breath she steals so easily.
"Yeah, I guess you could say that," you say, chuckling slightly as you struggle against all the unwelcome thoughts and emotions that continuously threaten to boil over.  "Especially the past couple of months, I'm fairly sure I've made a sizeable contribution to the 'Kim Family College Fund'.  What about you, have you also been a generous donor?"
And there it is.  For the first time since that night a lifetime ago, your words strike a chord, and your just reward is the melodious laughter that bursts free from the alluring lips of Nayeon before gently drifting across the table and imprinting itself once again upon your soul.  And all you can wonder is why you’d ever choose to stop chasing her.
After the briefest of stanzas, her mirthful song quiets and her words shift to a whisper.  "Listen, if my friends ever find out just how often I've been coming here and how much I've spent, it’ll be the last day I see the sun!  So shhh!"
The quiet laugh that resonates out straight from your heart may not be planned or voluntary, but anyone paying a modicum of attention can easily tell it’s genuine.  You feel free, weightless even, to an extent you haven’t felt since a certain night so many weeks ago.  And as you savor this moment of warmth, of dethawing even, you’re glad to see that same joy mirrored in the eyes and smile of Nayeon too.
"Alright, fair enough.  Not a word to your friends, and you won't rat me out to mine?  Deal?"
"Deal!" she responds eagerly, extending her hand out to shake yours.
Without hesitation, you reach out and seal the pact, cherishing the influx of warmth generated by even the swiftest second of your fingertips grazing the soft skin of her palm.
But then, just like that, it’s gone.  The briefest moment of contact ends all too soon, and you find yourself in silence once more.
Fortunately, this time it doesn’t last, as Nayeon speaks up once more.
"So … any particular reason you've been around more often recently?" she asks as she looks around in a familiar pattern, seemingly fascinated by the decorations of the place she must have visited hundreds of times.
"I might have a reason," you respond suavely as you lean back in your chair.  "Maybe even a couple."
"Oh yeah?" she asks, ending her search as she reaches her destination: your eyes.  "Pardon my vanity, but is there any chance … I’m one of those reasons?"
In this moment, this secular moment of confession, this seductress needs no lip bites nor any promises of sweet nothings to ensnare your heart even further.  All you need is to look into her eyes, where you see the same earnest anticipation mirrored within your own soul.
So, in this moment, you give yourself no time to second guess yourself, acting on pure instinct as you take out your heart, affix it to your sleeve in full view of everyone within the restaurant, and admit, "Yeah, I mean, you’re the only reason that mattered.  I guess … I was scared of the thought of never seeing you again.  I really missed you."
tick...
Another moment passes.  But this stretch of silence is far shorter than the last and her response is far quicker than last time you’d shared a confession.  This time, it’s her words that shock you.
"Thanks, I … uh, really missed you too," she whispers softly, perhaps trying to preserve the serenity of this moment between the two of you.
tock...
Milliseconds begin to feel like minutes as you desperately rack your brain, searching for an adequate continuation to the conversation.  Fortunately, just as desperation tips over into despair, none other than Aunt Kim comes to your rescue, carrying a pair of bowls in her hands and a complicated collection of emotions across her countenance.
First, she offers Nayeon her warm bowl with an even warmer smile, which Nayeon is happy to return in kind.  Then, just as you recover from being blinded by Nayeon’s radiance, Aunt Kim turns to you, deliberately holding back your bowl as she offers nothing but a quirked eyebrow and an expectant expression.
You raise your hands in surrender once more, internally cursing the developing trend as you ask, “What, Miss Aunt Kim, could you possibly be expecting from me?  Ma’am.”
You aren’t sure if it’s your sheepish expression or Aunt Kim’s sigh of exasperation that sparks it, but whatever semblance of a train of thought you’d begun crafting is sent careening off the rails by the return of that same singsong laughter that’s lifted your spirits up from the depths they’d plummeted to.
While Nayeon continues her chorus of joy, you watch as Aunt Kim’s frosty exterior thaws, causing her to gently place the bowl in your hands before pulling away just the slightest bit.
“I’m just glad things finally lined up,” Aunt Kim says with a knowing smile and another ruffling of your hair that earns another round of laughter from Nayeon.
Finally, that last embarrassment inflicted, Aunt Kim elects to leave you in peace.
After months of waiting, the culmination of all your fantasies is … a conversation.  About nothing.  About everything.  About your job as an editor at a K-Pop news / blog site and how the recent schedule change left you saddled with a writer who’d recently gotten in trouble for “not including all the members when describing a group’s latest comeback” or something.  About her job as an idol and the years of struggle and the stress of debuting and her relationships with her members and fan interactions and on and on and on.
It’s the most mundane human experience you’ve ever had, but it’s warm.  It lasts from your usual arrival time until Nayeon’s usual time of departure, yet time seems to pass by in an instant.  It’s nothing you would have expected yet everything you could possibly ask for, like a waking dream.  It’s almost unfathomable how much you enjoy yourself.
It also has to end.
“Hey,” Nayeon says suddenly, allowing her voice to soften.  “The shop’s closing soon.”
“Oh, right,” you say, feeling your smile fade for the first time in hours.
“We should, uh …”
“Yeah, let’s—”
“Yeah.”
The dusty old chairs creak against the stained floorboards of the shop as you both slowly slide them back, hoping that your sluggish movements will elongate this experience.  Each of you bids farewell to Aunt Kim in your own special way, then turn to depart.  And as you open the door for her and the brisk evening wind leaves you scrambling for the right words, it’s Nayeon who finds her courage first.
“We’ll be performing next Saturday,” she begins, speaking just loud enough for her words to reach your ears before the cruel winds can whisk them away.  “I understand if you’re busy, but—”
“I’ll be there.”
And just as the door closes and you put forth your promise, the jingle of the bells and Nayeon’s relieved laughter join in harmony, creating a melody that wraps itself around you and promises to protect you from the cold.
“I haven’t even told you where it is yet!” she exclaims, meeting your eyes once more.
“Then I should probably give you my number, no?” you counter, holding her gaze as she looks back with the softest eyes and warmest smile.
“That sounds like a great idea,” Nayeon says, eagerly pulling out her phone and handing it to you.
You quickly punch in the digits and hand it back to her, earning a frown in response.
“What is it?”
“You still haven’t told me your name.”
So, you tell her.  And she repeats it back to you.  And it’s no surprise that the sound of your name in her mouth is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard.  And you’re still reeling from that when she texts you, “Hi it’s me!🐇”.  And when you finally manage to tear your eyes from the screen, you’re met with the sight of her meekly looking down at the sidewalk below.
“Hey,” you say softly, giving her a moment to meet your eyes before opening your arms.  “You—”
Your words don’t even have a chance to be whisked away by the cruel winds before Nayeon darts over and crashes into your chest, driving the air from your lungs as she wraps her arms around you.  Instinctually, you wrap your own arms around her, holding her close and refusing to let go.
“Stay warm, okay?” you whisper, only for her ears.
“I think I’ll be just fine,” she whispers back, just as softly.
And it’s hard when you two untangle yourselves.  And it’s harder to say goodbye.  And it’s nearly impossible to turn away.  But it’s easy to turn back and look at her.  And you see Nayeon walking, no, almost skipping away down the sidewalk.  And you know that the months-long wait was worth it.  And the next ten days will feel like a decade.
But that’ll be worth the wait too.
tick…
tock…
tick…
tock…
This time, you know exactly how long it’s been.  You’ve checked the clock every hour of the past ten days, desperately awaiting the chance to see her again.  Absolutely dreading the thought of seeing her again.
Your anxiety certainly isn’t helped by the sea of lightsticks and legions of chanting fans wielding them.  Amidst this squall of rabid passion, you can’t help but feel underprepared.  You can’t help but feel nervous.  You can’t help but feel insignificant.
Fortunately, by the time you’re able to make your way up closer to the front, the performances have started and begun to wash away some of that negativity.  You lose yourself in the stages, showing support to these young adults, these kids, who’re giving everything they have to try and achieve their dreams.  It really is an enjoyable way to spend an afternoon.
Yet your throat still dries up when you hear them announce who’s performing next.  All of a sudden, the room floods, dragging you under; the blood rushes in, waves deafening you.
tick…
They come out on stage.
tock…
Your eyes can’t look anywhere else.
tick… tock…
“Nana” says something that you can’t hear.
tick…tock…
They get in position. tick..tock..tick.. They begin. ticktockticktockticktocktick
And then, just like that, it’s over.  The performance ends and the group bids the crowd farewell, leaving you with far fewer thoughts than you anticipated but far more emotions than you’re prepared for.  At the forefront of your mind, a singular idea, the catalyst of the storm, reverberates incessantly with a single realization.
Nayeon’s eyes didn't meet yours a single time throughout the whole performance, yet she spent the entire time smiling brighter than you’ve ever seen.
You somehow manage to stumble through the crowd, moving towards an exit as they roar in excitement at the announcement of the next performers, a group you’ve followed since debut and one you like quite a lot.  A group that doesn’t matter.
It’s only once you get outside, once you’re able to take a moment amidst the early evening air, that your breathing begins to slow.  It’s there that the blood pumping in your ears begins to settle.  It’s there that the vibration on your leg nearly makes you jump out of your skin.  But once you nail the three-point landing, you pull out your phone and read the new message:
Nayeon 🐇 (6:02pm):  Hey, were you able to make it?  I just peeked my head out but couldn’t find you anywhere.
You (6:03pm):  I did!  Sorry, I just stepped outside after watching your performance, needed some air
You (6:03pm):  You guys were great!
Nayeon🐇 (6:03pm):  Awww, thanks so much!!
Nayeon🐇 (6:03pm):  You should come around the back, I wanna introduce you to everyone!
Nayeon🐇 (6:04pm):  Meet me at door E35, I’ll let you in
You (6:06pm):  Sure, I’m on my way
You hit send, finally responding after needing a minute to calm the upswell of sanguine tides that continue to thrash within.  Your steps are heavy, echoing loudly throughout the packed parking lot and even louder in your mind as you begin discerning which feelings surround this storm’s catalyst.  
The unfamiliar feeling doesn’t remind you of the anxiety you’ve faced before, nor does it remind you of the self-doubt you’ve suffered in your past.  No, when you round the corner to see Nayeon’s head poking out the door, looking for you, and you hear the crowd’s thunderous applause, you know exactly which ugly emotion torments you.  And despite having no right to feel the way you do, you know that jealousy gnaws at your core.
So, when Nayeon turns and locks eyes with you, you hope your smile shows delight, not despair.  And while you don’t quite match the radiance of her reaction, you’re inviting enough for her to throw open the door and begin dashing towards you.  Fortunately, your limbs seem to have higher priorities than jealousy, as you too begin closing the distance and opening your arms, meeting her halfway and tightly wrapping your arms around her as she does the same to you.
Your ability to string together sentences escapes you as you hold her close, feeling her heartbeat hammer against your chest at as rapid a pace as your own.
“We should do this more often,” Nayeon murmurs into your chest.
“I mean, sure, I’d be happy to come support your group any time I’m not—”
“No, not that!” she exclaims, giggling slightly as she pulls away just enough to look up at you.  “I mean this.”
And she pulls you in even tighter, leaving you short of breath in more ways than one.
“But also, thank you for coming to see us perform.  You have no idea how much I appreciate it.”
“Of course,” you say, heart penning your words before your brain can intervene.  “Anything for you.”
“Anything?” Nayeon asks incredulously, finally breaking the hug as the mischievous glint in her eye returns.  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“I stand by my word,” you respond, acting far more confidently than you truly feel.  “Besides, how dangerous could you possibly be?”
“Are you looking to find out?” she asks, smiling deviously as you see the turning gears in her head shift into overdrive.
“Maybe one day,” you say with a shrug.  “Must admit, it’s not high on my list of priorities though.”
“Oh yeah?  What’s number one?”
“Why spoil the surprise?  Gotta keep you coming back somehow.”
Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise as Nayeon scoffs in response.  “Yeah, like that’s a concern.”
“I, uh, thanks?” you sputter, unable to do anything further as the mechanisms of your mind malfunction.
“Oh!” she exclaims, face alight with merriment and mischief alike.  “You are in danger.”
All you can do is shrug.  Why try to hide what you both know to be true?  Why not join her in laughter instead?
“Hey,” you say a few seconds later as you catch a brief glimpse of your breath in the air.  “We should get you inside, it's too cold for you to be out here in a sleeveless top and those ‘shorts’.”
“What do you mean?” Nayeon asks incredulously.  “I think my stylist absolutely nailed it today.”
“Yeah, like anything you wear could look bad,” you scoff.  “I'm just worried about you turning into a popsicle.”
“Oh?  I guess I'll just have to find someone to keep me warm,” she drawls as she walks back to the door.  “You wouldn't mind, would you?”
“Of course not.”
“Of course not,” she repeats, flashing the smallest of smirks your way before turning back and stepping up to the door.  “Anything for me, right?”
“I mean …” you begin to say.  Unfortunately, your train of thought is brought to a screeching halt by the rather rude sound of the unmoving door handle within Nayeon’s grasp.
“Wonderful,” Nayeon says, exasperation coating her words as she runs her fingers through her hair.  “And on the one day I forgot to charge my phone too.”
“You can borrow mine,” you offer, reaching into your pocket and holding it out to her.  “Can you call someone inside who can open it?”
“Yes, I can!” she says, eagerly accepting your offer and taking your phone.  “Give me a second, I'll see if Wooyeon's willing to help.”
A few moments later, after she's punched in the numbers and the phone's begun to ring, she looks up with that same cheeky smile she wears so frequently around you.
“Guess you're stuck with me a bit longer,” she dramatically declares.
“Woe is me,” you respond in kind, pressing the back of your hand to your forehead like you're about to faint.
Nayeon opens her mouth to fire back, but her reply is superseded by a muffled, vaguely familiar voice emanating out from the speaker.
“Hey, it's me,” she remarks casually, as if calling someone from a random number is a totally normal thing to do.  “I need—”
She stops mid-sentence, seemingly allowing the person on the other end to voice their apparently substantial list of frustrations at Nayeon. 
“Yeah, I, uh, sorry about slipping away like that,” Nayeon replies sheepishly as her cheeks flare in an entirely new way.  “It's a very long story that I very much don't want to get into tonight, but can you please come open door E35?  I might have locked myself out.”
It's a tense few moments of silence before Nayeon gets a response.  What you assume to merely be a few words at most still manages to shock Nayeon, leaving her wide eyed as she responds, “That's a lot to ask for just—”
Her words are suddenly cut off by what you assume to be Wooyeon's response, causing Nayeon to roll her eyes in resignation before responding, “Okay!  Sure, fine.  Both rooms, before the performance on Wednesday.  Got it.”
“Alright, see you soon,” she continues.  “And Wooyeon?  Thank you.”
“Here, thanks for letting me borrow that,” Nayeon says, handing you back your phone.
“Of course,” you respond.  “What were you two arguing about?”
“Honestly it was more bargaining than arguing,” Nayeon groans, throwing her head back in frustration.  “A trade I horribly lost, mind you.   Apparently in her mind, a three-minute walk is worth me having to clean both bedrooms at the dorms.”
“That seems … harsh,” you say, earning a shrug in response.
The silence goes unbroken for a minute.  Then another.  But when it's finally broken, it's not by words, but the chattering of teeth.  Hers.
Fortunately, your movements are so instinctual that by the time your brain has even begun to consider overthinking things, you've already taken off your jacket and wrapped it around her.  Nayeon’s shivering swiftly slows, but you leave your arm wrapped around her.  Just in case.
tick…
tock…
It ends up being ten minutes, not three, that you share in silence.  Not that either of you notice or care.
As soon as you hear the handle begin to turn, you immediately pull away, earning the smallest of whines from Nayeon before she too hears the door opening and turns towards it.
“There you are!” both girls exclaim as you see one of the other members from the earlier performance poke her head out.
“What took you so long?” Nayeon asks.  “I thought it'd take four minutes max to find us.”
“Listen, we can discuss whether or not I got lost once you get inside,” Wooyeon huffs in response.  “Come on, it's freezing out here!”
“You're telling me,” you mutter, causing Nayeon to quietly chuckle as she looks up at you with wide, apology-filled eyes.
You both follow Wooyeon inside, where Nayeon introduces you to one another and informs Wooyeon that she had invited you.  After an exchange of slightly awkward bows, Wooyeon speaks up.
“Okay, so this story involves you and a guy, alone, in the middle of a parking lot on a dark and stormy evening?  I don't care how long it is, you're telling me everything.”
“I … fine.  We can talk on the drive back,” Nayeon begrudgingly accepts.
“Good.  Speaking of, we should head back.  Now, preferably.  They're probably waiting on us,” Wooyeon says, shooting you a sympathetic glance.
“Hey, it's alright,” you tell Nayeon as she turns to look at you.  “I'm just glad I got to see you.  The performance and everything else were just icing on the cake.”
“Everything else, huh?” Wooyeon asks, seemingly more invested suddenly.  “How late is this story going to keep me up?”
“Oh relax,” Nayeon scoffs, shaking her head at Wooyeon's instigation attempts.
“But seriously,” she says to you.  “Thanks for being understanding.”
“Also, thanks for this,” Nayeon continues, smirking at you as she points to your jacket.
“Of course,” you immediately respond.  “Anything for you.”
You watch as Nayeon’s cheeky expression morphs into confusion, like your response was outside the rules of the game you’re both playing.
“I, uh, thanks?” she sputters.  But that confusion doesn't last, and a warm smile is quick to replace it.
“Here then,” she murmurs, closing the distance between you two quicker than you're able to respond.  “This is for you.”
And there's a lot of small details that you'll forget in hindsight.  Like the way Nayeon stands up on her tiptoes, or how she tilts her head just the slightest bit, or even the glittery eyeshadow that gleams in the light.  But there's one detail you'll remember.  Because you'll never forget the feeling of her soft lips against your cheek.
You can't help but hate the moment she pulls away.  But when she locks eyes with you, you're brave enough to hope that you'll feel that sensation again.
“Bye,” she whispers.
“Bye.”
“...”
“...”
“Bye?” Wooyeon says, offering you a slightly awkward wave as you turn to face her.
You look back to Nayeon, and neither of you can help but laugh at Wooyeon's shell-shocked expression.  One theatrical sigh and an eye roll later, Wooyeon turns and begins to walk away.
“Bye Wooyeon!” you call out at the retreating form.  “Hopefully next time we meet, it'll be a little more normal!”
“Hard not to be!” she calls back, earning another duet of laughter from you and Nayeon.
“I should probably follow her,” Nayeon says.  “We're performing Wednesday night, so I guess I'll see you at the shop on Thursday?  Unless you—”
“I'll be there,” you say, fighting back the jealous feelings that surge up at the thought of her performing again.
“You're the best,” she says, throwing her arms around you for the briefest of moments before turning and hurriedly following Wooyeon.  “I'll text you the location!”
“Sounds good, see you there!” you call out in response.  You can't help but feel glued to the floor as you watch her walk away, remaining motionless until she rounds a corner and leaves you alone in the hallway.
An odd mix of emotions twirls around your mind as you depart the building.  Many of them, the vast majority even, are undeniably positive.  But voices, ones eerily similar to those found in the fanchants from earlier, echo in the back of your mind and entrench those unshakable feelings of jealousy.
But even as the bus takes you away and you pray to reach home before the rain begins to fall, you know that this inner storm isn't one you can outrun.
tick…
tock…
tick…
tock…
You hope that you’re as good at hiding your emotions as you think you are.  Because the way you feel when you’re with Nayeon, your friend, when you’re both excitedly talking a little louder than you should be and occasionally have to pause the conversation to apologize to the other customers nearby, it’s euphoric.  It’s exhilarating.  It’s everything you could have ever dreamed of and more.
And it could not be more different than the way you feel when you’re with “Nana”, the idol.  Because you should still feel that euphoria, that elation.  You have no reason not to, especially since Nayeon acts the same way, even going so far as to find time somewhere in her crazy schedule when you two can meet.  The joy you find in those moments should be enough.  But your jealousy proves gluttonous, leaving you with an awful feeling in the pit of your stomach that grows harder to ignore.  It’s inescapable.  It’s everything you can’t control threatening to take away everything you hold dear.
And you haven’t the slightest fucking clue what to do.
Unfortunately, the tempest doesn’t give you much time to find a solution before boiling over.  It’s only a couple of weeks and a handful of performances later when Nayeon pulls you into a small alcove hidden amongst the towers of sound equipment and piles of wires.  Almost immediately, she begins sharing a story about a fan interaction, further fanning the flames of the ugly side of your emotions.
It’s not long before you’re overwhelmed by the turbulent emotions within.  Nayeon’s in the middle of a sentence when you lean in, cupping her cheek in one hand as you press your lips against hers.  You kiss her gently at first, but after her initial shock, she begins to kiss you back.  Firmly.  Insistently.  You let the sounds of the nearby stage abate, allowing yourself to instead lose yourself in the only senses that matter right now.
Like how the smell of her conditioner reminds you of coconuts and cherry blossoms.  Or how she tastes sweeter than honey.  Or how her lips are somehow softer than clouds.
You pull away only once oxygen deprivation forces you to, leaving you both staring at each other as you desperately attempt to catch your breath.
“I’m so sorry,” you say as soon as you’re able to.  “I shouldn’t have—”
“Don’t you dare apologize,” Nayeon interjects.  “Shut up and kiss me again.”
This time, she catches you off-guard as she leans in, pulling your head down slightly as she kisses you with as much intensity as before, if not more.  You’re more than willing to match her zeal, eliciting murmurs of satisfaction and small gasps for air from her as you battle back and forth.
It’s intense.  It’s electrifying.  It’s everything you’ve ever wanted and—
“There you are—oh!”
You and Nayeon hastily separate and turn to face the unexpected spectator, finding none other than poor Wooyeon and her shell-shocked expression awaiting you once again.
“Wooyeon?!  I, you, we, uh …” Nana says, trailing off mid-sentence as she steps away from you and attempts the futile task of trying to return her hair to some semblance of normalcy.
“We have to figure out a better way for you to introduce me to your friends,” you tell Nana, earning a stare of disbelief from her and an unexpected bit of melodious laughter from Wooyeon.
“You seriously do!” Wooyeon exclaims, fanning her face in an attempt to disperse the crimson flooding her cheeks.  “Honestly, I hate that they keep sending me to find you two, why can't it be Sora getting traumatized for once?”
“Because they know you're way too good at finding things for your own good, especially us apparently,” Nayeon says, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration.
“Oh, don't worry!  I won't tell …” Wooyeon trails off for a moment, looking at Nayeon slyly.  “Too many people.”
“Hey!” Nayeon exclaims.  “Be careful what you wish for, I'm sure plenty of people would be interested in my stories about you.”
“That wasn't what I'd hoped to hear, but you can write me an apology later,” Wooyeon fires back, turning her head away from Nayeon to hide the red that refuses to leave her cheeks.  “I hate to do this again, but we really do need to get going.”
Nayeon's indignation seems to flare even further as she steps closer to Wooyeon, but you can't help but chuckle at the image of the shorter Nayeon attempting to intimidate the much taller Wooyeon.  Nayeon spares a moment to glare at you before turning back to Wooyeon and saying, “Listen, I'm sure we can—”
“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” you interject.  “I’m sure we’ll have time to talk later, right Nayeon?”
“Oh sure, I’m positive that she’ll have plenty of time for a lovely conversation later,” Wooyeon comments, earning a glare from Nayeon that’d likely be scathing if not for the obvious embarrassment coloring her countenance.
“Hey, not so loud!” you jest, smiling just as wide as Wooyeon.  “Seriously though, I really am sorry Wooyeon.   I’ll make it up to you sometime, hopefully next time I see you.  Surely next time we meet it’ll be more normal, right?  Surely?”
“Suuurrrelyyyy,” Wooyeon responds, stringing out the single word just long enough to fit every emotion other than sincerity into its delivery.  She takes the opportunity to step away from Nayeon, who seems temporarily frozen between states of frustration, embarrassment, and something else entirely.
“Hey, no worries,” you gently tell Nayeon, taking her hands in your own and turning her to face you.  “Your members need you.”
“Besides, you should probably go willingly before Wooyeon drags you back, kicking and screaming the whole way,” you joke, smiling as Wooyeon grins and hums in agreement.
“Surely you wouldn't do that to me, right Wooyeon?” Nayeon asks, turning and pouting at her in an exaggeratedly cute manner.
“The option's never been more tempting,” Wooyeon replies, sticking out her tongue in response.
“Okay okay fine, I surrender,” Nayeon tells her, raising her hands in a manner all too familiar to you before turning back to you.  “I'll see you Saturday?”
“Wouldn't miss it for anything,” you tell Nayeon, pulling her into a tight hug that finally dispels the vast amount of tension she'd built up in such a short time.
“Neither would I,” Nayeon murmurs back before pulling away just enough to capture your lips one final time.
“Alright, let's go,” Nayeon tells Wooyeon, interlocking arms with her as they begin to walk away.
“So, for the first part of my apology, I want …” Wooyeon's voice trails off as they walk out of earshot.  But you remain in place, watching their retreating forms until they leave your field of view.  And then perhaps a minute longer, just in case.
But eventually, you also turn away and begin your departure.  The only topic on your mind as you walk, ride the bus, and then walk again on your journey to reach your home is the storm of emotions within.  On the one hand, it gave you the confidence to act in a way you wouldn't have been willing to normally, leading to an amazing and memorable moment.  But on the other hand, you can't shake the feeling that this upswell wasn't the final manifestation of these detrimental feelings.  All you can do is hope that if they do flare again, that night won’t be memorable for all the wrong reasons.
tick…
tock…
As you walk alongside Nayeon, you can’t help but marvel at how normal this new norm feels.  Even just a few weeks ago, you would have desperately lunged at the chance to see Nayeon a single time, but now, seeing her multiple times a week feels routine.  Normal.  Unremarkable?
Definitely not unremarkable, as the memory of your arms wrapped around her waist and her lips pressed against your own is just as vivid as it felt in that moment a few nights ago.  Even the restlessness of flaking on the group’s performance for the first time last night feels insignificant in comparison to the contentment you feel right now.
Which is why it’s so jarring when you’re met by a “CLOSED” sign on the shop’s door for the first time ever.
“‘Apologies for the sudden closure’,” you read aloud.  “‘We’re visiting family this weekend and will be closed for the next couple of days.’”
“‘We’ll be open once again on Monday.  We hope to see you then!’” Nana concludes.  “I mean, I hope she has a nice time, but what do we do now?”
“I mean, I’m sure we can find somewhere else that sounds good.  There are a couple places nearby that I usually order delivery from,” you offer.
“Wait, isn’t your place nearby?” she asks, earning a nod in response.  “Why don’t we just pick something up on the way and eat there?  We could watch a movie too, it’ll be fun!”
“Wait wait wait,” you say, mind reeling at the implications.  “Did you just invite yourself into my apartment?”
“Yep!” Nayeon announces, shame nowhere to be found within that radiant smile.  “Now figure out which chicken place you want to order from and let’s go!”
All you can do is laugh at the absurdity of the situation as you pull out your phone and do as she asks.  After a few minutes of walking and a quick stop to pick up food, you arrive at your apartment.  Your one-bedroom apartment might pale in comparison to some of the more upscale living areas in Seoul, but you genuinely appreciate the place you call your home, and you show it to Nayeon with pride.  After a brief tour, you both unpack the large assortment of dishes that usually accompany any Korean meal and begin your dinner.
“How was your performance last night?” you ask her, forcing yourself to smile even as the initial hints of your jealousy begin to stir.
“It went well, thank you!” Nayeon responds, smiling softly at you.  “The fan turnout was amazing, so it was super easy to enjoy performing for them.  What about you, how was your night?”
“Pretty good, thank you for asking,” you say, attempting to match the warmth of her smile but unable to due to the ice in your heart.  “It was a pretty unremarkable evening in general, but I did appreciate the chance to catch up on some much-needed sleep.”
“That’s good to hear!  I missed having you there, but I’m glad you were able to rest.”
“Thank you.  I’m sorry for not being there to support you, but at least Wooyeon got to enjoy a night where she didn’t have to hunt us down.”
“She actually told me that she was sad you weren’t there!  She said on the ride over that she was sure last night was going to be your guys’ first ‘normal’ conversation.”
“Really?  That’s unfortunate, hopefully it’ll happen next time I see her.”
“Hopefully!” Nayeon agrees, and you both go back to enjoying your dinner.  
A few minutes later, once you’ve both finished and cleared away the table, you pull out your favorite oversized blanket and lounge on the couch, inviting Nayeon to join you.  She’s more than happy to oblige, taking the remote from you and immediately pulling up some recently released horror sequel.  You can’t help but voice your surprise, but your concerns are swiftly and eagerly shut down as she gets up and begins messing with the light switches, trying different combinations in an attempt to properly set the mood.  Once she finally achieves her desired lighting, she hops back onto the couch, pulling the blanket over herself and laying against your side.
As she snuggles in closer, you do your best to relax and simply enjoy the experience.  And, if nothing else, the experience is certainly entertaining, as Nayeon seems to be terrified of the jump scares that seem to occur every couple of minutes.  Yet despite her screams, she refuses every time you ask if she wants to watch something else, insisting that she’s having a great time.  Well, for the first hour at least.
“Can I ask you something?” Nayeon says suddenly as she pauses the movie.
“Of course,” you say, your mind flooding with concerns and thoughts of worst-case outcomes.
“Is everything alright?” she asks, sitting up and turning to face you.
“Like, right now?  Couldn’t be better,” you respond, fighting through your concern as you offer a strained smile.
“Mostly just in general, but you don’t seem relaxed even now, despite the fact that we’re under this stupidly soft blanket on this insanely comfy couch,” Nayeon says, smiling for a moment before her expression shifts back to seriousness.  “But honestly, you’ve seemed kinda off for a while.  It's not all the time, but often enough for me to be concerned.  Is there something you want to talk about?”
“No, it’s okay, I—” You stop yourself, searching through the dark and finding nothing but obvious care and trust in her eyes.  So, knowing you can do better, you start over.
“I’m not going to lie to you.  I promise I won’t.  So, yeah, there’s something that’s bothering me, but it’s … hard to explain.  I don’t want to hide anything from you—and I promise I will tell you, but I don’t know the words to tell you what I want to say right now.  Can I ask you to be patient with me, just for a little bit?”
“Okay,” she says, visible concern on her face as she nods.  “Whenever you’re ready.”
“Thank you, I really appreciate it,” you say, awkwardly turning back to the TV.
You’re unable to focus on the rest of the movie, deafened by the silence between you two and shivering from a coldness unrelated to the setting sun.  Even once it’s over and Nayeon gets ready to leave, neither of you are able to put on a convincing enough performance to hide your emotions.  You exchange awkward goodbyes, waving farewell instead of hugging like you’ve always done as she walks away.
Thus, it’s anything but surprising when, mere hours later, the girl of your dreams becomes the subject of your nightmares.  Spectral visions of her pained expression haunt you as the thoughts of causing her stress, pain, and suffering bind and isolate you.  You swear you can hear the haunted cackling of the manifestations of anxiety and jealousy in your mind as they cast a spotlight on your inability to quell the storm.  And as the nightmare begins to fade and you feel yourself being dragged away from her, you finally get it.
As soon as you awaken, unsurprisingly covered in sweat, you immediately grab your phone and begin composing a series of messages.  Because you refuse to let your selfishness hurt someone else, especially Nayeon.
You (5:01am): Hey, I’m so, so sorry about last night, especially how it ended
You (5:01am):  There’s somewhere I’d love to show you, it’s a private place where we should be able to spend some time together and talk
You (5:01am):  If you have an afternoon free sometime soon, please let me know
You (5:02am):  Thanks so much
Between the restless night and the anxiety of hoping for a response, the miserable day you end up having is anything but a surprise.  You check your phone at every available opportunity, but the response you're hoping for never arrives.
It isn't until after you return home, when you're sitting alone in the stale air of your frigid, empty apartment that Nayeon answers.
Nayeon🐇 (5:01pm): Hey, I'm so sorry for taking so long to respond, there were a lot of things I ended up needing to take care of today
Nayeon🐇 (5:01pm): Does tomorrow work?  I'm sorry if it's sooner than you were expecting …
You (5:02pm): No, that would actually be perfect!  Thank you so much, I'll send you the address
You press send, feeling a great weight lifted off your shoulders as you confirm the location and time with her.  Unfortunately, just as you feel yourself begin to relax, your mind begins compiling a list of the things you’ll need for tomorrow.
So, once again, you bundle up and step outside to face the harsh winds.  But this time, as the grocery store comes into view, you're eager to brave the storm.  Because you know what's waiting for you on the other side.
tick…
tock…
Noon.  The brightest point of the day.  A time of warmth.  An important part of any day for a multitude of reasons.  Specifically, the most important part of today because it's when you plan to meet Nayeon.
You scramble onto the bus just in time, sighing in relief as you check the clock and see that you’re scheduled to arrive a bit early, just as you’d hoped.  So, with a bit of free time during the thirty-eight-minute journey awaiting you, you first check all your belongings, happily confirming that nothing's been lost in transit.  You look out the window, frowning slightly at the clouds slowly rolling across the sky, blocking out the clear sky you'd hoped would be the backdrop to this crucial day.  You cast that aside, choosing instead to focus on what you can control.  Like what exactly you want to say to her.  How you want to convey your feelings to her.
Is this a confession?  A request?  An invitation?  A farewell?  No, you know it's definitely not a farewell.  But you still don't know what exactly you want to tell her.
Actually, that's not entirely true either, because when you’re with her, you can't help but want to talk to her about anything and everything.  But just for today, you hope that you can be greedy.  You hope that you'll somehow find the exact words you need to convey how you feel.  The exact words she needs to hear.  The exact words that'll help you solve this problem.  The exact words she wants to hear.  The exact words that'll steal her heart.
A familiar little robotic voice echoes throughout the bus, informing you that you’ve arrived.  You gather up your blanket, basket, and jacket, then exit the bus and turn to walk towards your destination.
As you slip your sunglasses on, you look around, smiling slightly at the memories resurfacing at the sight of so many familiar shops from your past.  You see the pet store where you cried because your mom wouldn't buy you a chinchilla for your fifth birthday.  You see the small ice cream shop where you celebrated your first soccer tournament victory with your friends.  You see the hair salon where the stylist always teased you for growing out your hair over your ears as a teenager.
And when you turn the corner, you see the bridge where you had your first kiss.  There, standing alone, a familiar flash of gold hides beneath a cap and scarf, and the sight of her finally makes you see the truth.  Waiting for you atop that bridge, you see your first love.
“Of course.”
Your knuckles whiten as they tightly grip the wooden handle of the basket.  You feel your legs attempt to lock up, but you force yourself to break free of anxiety's cold grip and begin to close the distance.  You barely make it onto the small bridge before she perks up at the sound of your footsteps and turns to face you.
“Hey, I'm so sorry for making you wait, I tried to be here as soon as—”
“No, no, don’t worry about it,” Nayeon says, lips upturned in a hint of a smile.  “I’m used to being the first one to arrive and I only got here a couple minutes ago.”
You both pause for a moment, an uncharacteristically awkward silence filling the air between you two as you both search for the right thing to say.
“Thanks for inviting me here,” Nayeon says after a few moments.  “I've never been to this neighborhood before.”
“No, thank you for being willing to come, especially so soon!” you quickly respond.  “I’m sorry for being vague about it earlier, but this is actually where I grew up.”
“Oh really?” Nayeon asks, looking around with a renewed interest.  “I'm sure you have so many stories to tell about this place!”
“Something like that,” you say meekly, looking down at the sidewalk.  Where you remember standing as you kissed your first crush so many years ago.  Where you remember standing as your tears hit the pavement when that same girl said goodbye for the last time.  Where you stand now, hoping that you can convince the best thing that's ever happened to you to stay.
“Well then, where are we going?” Nayeon asks.  “Don't tell me you're going to ask me to cheat on Aunt Kim by going to another noodle shop!”
“Of course not!” you exclaim, feeling your vigor return as you laugh with her.
“That's probably for the best.  I don't suppose it's that ice cream store either?” Nayeon asks excitedly.
“Maybe after,” you say, chuckling at her dramatic pout.
“I did come with a plan for lunch,” you continue, holding up the basket and showing it to her.
“Oh, that's amazing!” Nayeon exclaims, finally closing the distance between you two and hugging you tightly.  “You're the cutest!”
You're initially baffled by Nayeon, who's so much shorter than you, calling you cute, but you're more than willing to bite back your response and simply hold her close.  After a minute or so, you force yourself to pull away.
“Alright, so where are we going?” Nayeon asks as her eyes eagerly explore the area.
“It's about a fifteen-minute walk from here, maybe twenty if you want me to act as a tour guide.”
“I'm in no rush when I'm with you,” Nayeon immediately responds.  “Tell me everything.”
After taking a second to make sure your heart hasn’t overloaded, you extend your hand to her.  “Alright, but only because it's you.  Follow me.”
Nayeon happily obliges, and with her hand in yours, you begin the journey upstream through the sands of time.  You spend the first few minutes of the walk pointing out the local stores and restaurants that you fondly remember, initially avoiding any mention of places associated with less flattering memories.  But as you continue on and grow more comfortable, you begin to share all of the most memorable pieces of your past, much to the delight of Nayeon, who's happy to laugh with and at you as you tell her about the defining moments of your childhood.
After roughly ten minutes, you come to a stop, staring up at one tall, gray building in particular amongst the half-dozen duplicates in the area.
“What about this place?” Nayeon asks, noticing your hesitation.
“This is … the place I grew up,” you explain.  “My parents and I lived in this apartment building until I graduated high school and went off to college.”
“Oh, so this was your home?”
“You could say that, but I don't think of it that way.  This is the place where I lived, but it isn't the place where I made the most memories.”
“Hmm, I think I understand.  Did you have a place you'd call your home instead?”
“I did,” you confirm, gripping her hand tighter.  “We're going there now.”
You continue on, allowing the air to grow quiet as you walk under the canopy of trees hanging over the path between two streets.  After a few minutes of this comfortable contemplation, you speak up.
“I know this is gonna sound weird but hear me out.”
“That's certainly one way to start a conversation,” Nayeon jokes, squeezing your hand slightly.  “But sure, I'm listening.”
“I really appreciate how easy it is to just … enjoy being with you,” you explain.  “How you make me feel comfortable even when we're being quiet, because just being together is enough.”
“Uh huh.  And you wanted to convey this to me by breaking the silence to do so?”
“Listen, I … yeah, I guess so.  I just wanted to let you know how you make me feel.  I'm far from the best with words, as I'm sure you've noticed.”
“I might have,” she jokes, pulling herself closer against your side.  “But I don't think you give yourself enough credit.”
“Oh?  Why do you say that?”
“Because I already knew you felt that way,” Nayeon says, looking up at you with bright eyes and a brighter smile.  “And because I feel the same way too.”
You share a few more minutes of soft silence as you walk along the road, traveling under the canopy until it parts and you see the clouds above.  A couple of streets and turns later, you arrive at your destination.
“This is the park where I used to play soccer,” you explain.  “To your right is where I scored a goal to win a tournament match, and if you look wayyy in the back left, you can see where I made an opponent so angry, he shoved me to the ground and nearly broke my wrist.”
“Oh wow!” Nayeon exclaims, covering her mouth as a snippet of laughter threatens to escape.  “You must have a lot of fond memories of this place.”
“Yeah …” you say, trailing off as you cast your mind back to those times ten, fifteen years ago.  “I made a lot of friends—and enemies—on these fields.”
“Do you still keep in touch with many of them?  Your friends, not your enemies,” she clarifies.
“No, almost none of either group actually,” you admit.  “It gets hard when people move away and college or work takes over your life.  I make sure to stay in contact with one, my best friend from those times, but even that’s a bit of a struggle.  I haven’t seen him in who knows how many years, just talked with him online.”
“I—wow…” Nayeon says, eyes sweeping the empty grass that you’ll always remember as full of life.  “I can’t even imagine being separated from Wooyeon.”
“Well, it’s probably different when you see each other, what, 350 days out of the year?” you point out.
“That’s fair,” she admits, finally releasing that pent-up chuckle.  “Thank you for showing me this, I’m sure it means a lot to you.”
“Of course,” you say, offering her a smile.  “Now I want to show you the place that became my home.”
“Then let’s go!” Nayeon announces, returning your smile and allowing you to lead her across the expanse that seemed endless when you were younger.
Eventually, you reach a small chain link fence, which you follow until you’re met with the familiar sight of a rusted gate with a faded combination lock.
“Let’s hope they haven’t changed this,” you say, mostly to yourself, as you input the code: 090301.
To your great joy—and mild surprise—it unlatches, allowing you to open the gate and lead Nayeon inside.  Within, you easily navigate through the branches and brush, memories coming back in a rush as you delve deeper and deeper.  After about a minute, you arrive, pulling back a branch and allowing Nayeon to pass by you into the small clearing.  Surrounded on all sides by trees, a pair of smooth, plateau-like rocks sit a couple meters from a softly flowing creek, granting you both the solitude that this private sanctum had always blessed you with.
“This is it,” you explain, nearly whispering the words as Nayeon takes in the scene.  “This was … everything, really.  This is where I came when I needed to think, needed to decompress, or … needed to know what I needed, I guess.”
“This is incredible!” Nayeon says, eyes wide as she frenetically scours every centimeter of the area, committing it to memory.  “How did you even find this place?”
“Everyone I’ve ever brought here has asked me that exact question,” you say, a sentimental smile spreading across your face.  “But I’ll tell you the same thing I told the other two; I feel like it honestly found me.  I just … went out looking for a sign of something on a night where I needed direction and found myself here.”
“This is actually the first time I’ve come here since moving away for college,” you continue.  “It’s crazy how as much as things change, they stay the same.”
“I guess so …” Nayeon says, trailing off before turning and meeting your eyes.  “Thank you for bringing me here.  I can tell this place holds a special place in your heart and I deeply appreciate you sharing it with me.”
“Of course,” you say after a moment, struggling to formulate words under the intensity of her gaze.  “You hold a special place in my heart too, so I appreciate you trusting me and coming here with me.”
Nayeon is content to let her smile be her response, so you lay out the blanket across the smooth rocks and take a seat on one, gesturing towards the other.  “Come on, let’s talk.”
“Talk?” she asks, implication obvious in her voice as her eyes harden.
“Talk,” you confirm with a nod.
“Okay,” Nayeon whispers, barely loud enough for you to hear above your pounding heartbeat as she takes a seat beside you.  She shakes her hands like they’ve gone numb, then continues, “Please, tell me what’s going on.  Everything that’s going on.”
“Nayeon, I want to make sure you know something, something very important,” you tell her, earning a nod in response.  “I care about you.  So much.  Maybe too much.  I know I haven’t been returning the warmth that you’ve shared with me, and for that, I am so sorry.”
You pause, release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, and deeply inhale before continuing, “It’s just—sometimes when I’m with you, negative emotions start building up inside me that feel like a storm threatening to pull me under.  Sometimes, I can’t help but feel jealous when I see you on stage or when you talk about your fans, because it feels like there’s so many of them and I’m just … me.  I feel like they’ve known you longer, seen more of you, and that you can’t help but prioritize them because your job depends on it.  I know I shouldn’t feel this way, and I know that it’s selfish.”
You force yourself to stop and look at her.  She sits patiently, listening attentively as she nods once again, waiting for you to continue.  So, you do.  “I want you to know, more than anything else, that none of this is your fault.  And I am so, so sorry for putting you in this position.  But after you asked me if everything was alright, I knew that I couldn’t hide it from you any longer.  I knew that if I kept this inside, it would boil over and end up hurting you in the process.  And I can’t allow that to happen—I can’t let you get hurt because of how I feel—but I can’t walk away without telling you the truth.  And I know I have no right to do this to you and I understand if you’re upset and if you want me to leave I—”
“Hey, hey, listen to me,” Nayeon says softly, cupping your face in her ever so delicate hands.  “Thank you, so much, for telling me this.  I don’t and won’t ever blame you for feeling those kinds of feelings. I wish I could tell you that I understand and that everything will be alright, but I can't.  Honestly, I probably won’t ever truly be able to.”
“But I need you to trust me when I tell you that you mean everything to me,” she continues.  “And I need you to trust me when I tell you I’m willing to face this problem as long as it’s by your side.  And when I say that we can get through this, together, I mean it with every fiber of my being and all of my heart.  All I can ask is that you put your faith in me, in yourself, and most importantly, in us.  Can you do that for me?”
“Just like that?” you ask, dumbfounded.  “I’m being completely unfair, presenting you with this problem, and you’re somehow still willing to give me more support?”
“For you?  Absolutely,” she responds resolutely.  “I don’t know if I’d ever be able to piece my heart back together if you broke it by leaving.”
“Then yes, I—Yes,” you declare, placing your hands on hers and holding them tightly.  “Absolutely, I can.  I will.  I promise.”
She beams with joy, immediately responding, “Anything for me, right?”
You gently pull her hands away from your face, interweaving your fingers with hers as you tell her, “Of course Nana, it’s always been you.  You’ve been the only thing that matters to me since the moment I saw you.  It’s always been you and always will be.”
You watch as her eyes go wide.  “You’ve never called me that before.”
“I guess so …” you say, trailing off as the realization hits you too.  “I’m sorry if you’d—“
You stop yourself as Nana untangles her fingers from yours in an instant, wrapping her arms around you and squeezing you so tightly that it’s nearly impossible to continue.
“Please say something,” you manage to get out, chuckling awkwardly.  “I kinda just poured my heart and soul out to you and I’d really appreciate you sharing your thoughts.”
“My arms are getting tired from how tightly I’m hugging you and you still need me to tell you what I’m thinking?” Nana scoffs, nuzzling into your chest and refusing to let go.
“Fair point,” you admit, contentedly wrapping your arms around her, though nowhere near as tightly as she’s hugging you.  “Thank you, Nana.”
“For what?  The hug?” she asks, somehow squeezing you even tighter.
“I mean, yes, the hug is amazing, but that isn’t what I meant,” you choke out.  “For being so good to me.  From that first day we met all the way until today, I feel like I’ve been the one with the problem and you’ve been the one with the solution.”
“Maybe, but that won’t always be the case,” Nana responds, loosening her hold on you just enough to allow you to breathe again.  “And if a storm comes and attempts to drag me under, I like to believe you’ll be there, holding on for dear life and refusing to let go.”
You don’t even try to respond verbally, instead releasing your hold on her and using your newly free hand to cup her chin.  As your thumb slowly traces patterns across the soft skin of her cheek, the rest of your body closes what little distance remains between you, allowing you to brush the faintest of kisses onto her lips.  You kiss her gently, tenderly, barely making any contact as your lips land on hers and then depart before she can kiss you back.  You repeat these featherlight flits over and over again, attempting to convey all the feelings you’ve left unsaid.  And finally, when she tightens her hold on you and mewls in frustration, you fervently capture her lips and refuse to be the one who pulls away.
Your conviction ends up just barely lasting long enough for Nana to pull away first, but the light-headedness and dizziness that blocks your view of the only thing you want to be seeing right now is a powerful reminder that oxygen is, in fact, important.  For a short while, the sound of both of you panting is the only sensation that keeps you tethered to consciousness.  But eventually, when you manage to part the darkness and open your eyes, you’re met with the sight of Nana, her chest expanding and contracting just as rapidly as yours as you both amend your oxygen deficits.  And if her smudged lipstick, flushed face, and wild, wide eyes staring into yours are any indication, you’re fairly confident she’s satisfied with your response.
“So … lunch?”
“Just like that?” she asks, dumbfounded.  “You literally take my breath away and that’s all you have to say?”
“Oh, I did have something else!” you remark, acting far more nonchalantly than you feel.  “I love you, Nana.”
It can’t be instantaneous.  But you don’t quite know how it happens either.  Your heart skips a beat when you see a blur of motion in your periphery, then you blink and you’re on the ground with Nana holding you down.  Somewhere around the second or third second of Nana kissing you, it finally connects in your mind.  She actually just tackled you off the rock.
“I—love—you—too,” Nana tells you, whispering each word into your ear in the moments between her own featherlight kisses.  Your heart soars at her reciprocation of your feelings, and as soon as she decides the time for words is over, you’re more than happy to oblige.  She melts into you as you wrap your arms around her back and return her kiss, matching her fervor and maybe even exceeding it.  You both know to pull away much sooner than you did last time, respecting the harsh lesson your bodies had given you.
“You know, a little warning would be nice,” you tease, smiling up at her.
“You’re one to talk!” Nana exclaims, hitting your chest with one small hand as she fans her crimson visage with the other.  “Don’t you know that it’s downright irresponsible to just drop something on me like that?”
“To be fair, I was under the impression that we both expected you to be the responsible one here,” you say, bringing out your puppy eyes and painting faux innocence across every centimeter of your face.
“I … you … ugh!” she grumbles, a rainbow of emotions flashing across her face before she finally leans away from you.  “Yes dear, lunch sounds wonderful.”
It’s right then when you realize another thing that makes Nana special.  She makes your cheeks hurt with how much you smile around her.  And even minutes later, after you’ve both gotten up, unpacked the basket, and you’ve both begun to eat the home cooked meals out of the little plastic containers they’re stored in, the smile she so easily coaxes out of you hasn’t left your face.
“I didn’t get to say it earlier after you blindsided me, but thank you too,” Nana says midway through your meal.
“Blindsided is a bit rich coming from you, the only person here who literally tackled the other, but I digress,” you respond, smiling warmly at her amused smirk.  “What for?”
“For being my friend,” she says, turning away from you and staring into the woods.  “It’s … hard to make friends as an idol.  There are so many expectations for how we’re meant to behave and we’re often too busy to really spend time with others.  I really appreciate your willingness to be flexible and even come to our performances, especially now that I know how it was affecting you …”
“Of course, I’m always happy to be flexible, it’s for you,” you tell her, taking her hand in yours.  “Even if you’re only able to spare a few minutes after each performance, I’m sure we could make it work.”
“But it doesn’t have to only be then, that’s not fair to either of us,” she says, squeezing your hand back.  “Days like this are worth clearing my schedule for.”
“Wait, you cleared your schedule for today?  To see me?  Yesterday?  Before you even knew if I was available?” you ask, receiving a quartet of nods in response.
“That’s why I took so long to respond yesterday, I was running around taking care of all my responsibilities in the dorm and doing the choreography practice I’d planned to do today,” Nana explains.  “I trusted that you’d make it work.  When I saw your text that early in the morning, I figured that you hadn’t been able to sleep either.”
“Wow … I … didn’t even realize … thank you for doing so much for me,” you say, idly tracing circles against the back of her hand.  “But truly, I am always happy to see you, regardless of time or circumstance.  I’m really looking forward to seeing you perform in the future; it’ll be nice to be able to really enjoy you doing what you love without jealousy blinding me.”
“That’s great to hear!” she responds, turning back and smiling at you.  “You taking the time to come see us means so much to me … the first thing I do whenever I get on stage is find you in the crowd.”
“Oh, I—oh.  Thank you,” you say, grateful that you manage to reply before those words join the rest in vacating your mind.
“Of course!” Nana responds, smiling warmly at you before you both return to your lunch.  After you both finish your meals, you look up to the sky, grimacing as you see the consolidation of the clouds as they blot out the sun.
“Hey, Nana,” you say, pointing up to the sky as she turns to you.  “We should definitely get going before we end up stuck in the rain.”
“Okay,” she says, nodding resolutely.  “Let’s get packed up and go.”
You both work together in harmony, loading the containers back into the basket in a fraction of the time it took to unload them.  You take her hand once more, hastily leading her along the trails and roads you've traversed alone countless times.
“We might have to skip the ice cream today,” you tell Nana as you both quickly walk down the streets that house so many memories.
“Oh no!  I guess you'll just have to make it up to me later …” Nana responds, smiling in understanding.
A minute or so later, just as the first few drops of rain begin to fall like your tears that night on the bridge, you arrive at the bus stop.
“This is where I need to get on the bus,” you say to Nana.  “Where are you going, can I call you a taxi?  Were you intending on someone picking you up?  What's the plan?”
Nana smiles in a very particular way, the same way she always seems to smile whenever she realizes that she knows something you don't.  “I'm going wherever you're going.  That's been my plan for a long, long time now.”
You're grateful for the rain, as the sounds of its fall are the only sounds to be found in the seconds that pass before you're able to respond.  You wrap your jacket around her shoulders, sheltering her from the cold as you stare directly into her eyes and tell her, “I … I don't know what I did to deserve the trust you put in me, but I'm incredibly grateful for it.  I promise you that I will never take it for granted.  I promise you, with every fiber of my being and all of my heart, that I will never break that trust.”
“I know,” Nana responds, her whispered words bouncing between the raindrops before barely reaching your ears.  “You showed me your heart today, the least I can do is give you mine.”
You pull Nana close and gently rest your forehead against hers.  Each falling raindrop and each flowing teardrop helps you paint the picture, telling her the thousands of words you can’t verbalize but need her to know.  In this shared moment, as echoes of your past remind you of those sorrowful tears shed so many years ago, your joyful ones return you to the present and the gift in your arms.  So, at least in this moment, you hold Nana tight, vowing to never let her go.
You pull away only when the bus arrives a few minutes later but remain hand in hand as you walk forward.  After stepping on, paying for both of your fares, and finding a pair of seats, you pull out a pair of earbuds and offer Nana one.  She's more than happy to accept, and as she rests her head on your shoulder and you queue up a series of serene love songs from your favorite artists, you hope their words can do a better job of telling Nana how much you love her.
tick…
tock…
“We're here,” you whisper to Nana, gently shaking her awake.  “Just take my hand, I'll lead you home.”
“Okay,” she murmurs, interweaving her fingers with yours and following you through the bus, down the steps, and into the monsoon that immediately jolts her back into consciousness.
“Oookaaayyyy, I'm up!” Nana declares, pulling your jacket tight against her small frame.  “Lead the way, I don't think these pants are gonna do much against a storm like this!”
You take off immediately, leading her as quickly as you can down the sidewalks before eventually stopping at an interaction where you ask her, “But really, why does it always seem like your outfits are in no way at all suited to the weather?”
“Because my outfit looks cute!” Nana exclaims indignantly.  “And you of all people should be glad that’s my priority!”
“Of course, you're right,” you respond, kissing her on the nose in apology.  “Then again, I'm convinced you'd make anything look good, but I do genuinely appreciate that you care and that you put thought into your outfits.  It makes me feel special.”
The crosswalk finally flashes green, and you take off once again, leading Nana towards your apartment as she scolds you.  “Seriously, you can't just keep saying things like that so casually!  There are at least four heartwarming things in that statement that make me want to kiss you, but your question was so stupid that I still kinda want to slap you!  And this stupid rain isn’t helping anything at all!  And I’m cold!  Ugh!”
You're grateful that you're ahead of Nana, because you know that if she sees the goofy smile on your face, you'll be in big trouble.  “Okay dear, I'm sorry I made you feel that way,”  you respond, speaking in the most soothing tone possible.  “We’re almost to my apartment, where it’ll be n-nice and warm, and w-we’ll make everything better.  I p-promise.”
Neither of you speak another word for the remainder of your mad dash, too busy fighting off the shivers to do so.  After a few more minutes, you arrive back at your home, where you tear the key from your pocket, hurriedly unlock the door, and shepherd her inside.
“O-Okay, I’m g-going to start the sh-shower f-for you and g-grab a dry set of clothes for y-you to change into, please f-feel free to d-discard that j-jacket l-literally anywhere,” you manage to tell Nana, taking off as she begins to do as you request.
You fight off the shivers as you quickly dash around your apartment, flipping the shower on and grabbing yourself a towel before darting into your bedroom and grabbing some dry clothes for both of you, then returning to Nana.
“Okay, t-the shower should b-b-be nice and h-hot, and there’s a c-clean towel in t-t-there y-you can u-use,” you stammer as you round the corner.  “H-Here’s something t-to … change … into …”
Your voice escapes you as you see her, back turned as she watches the rain mercilessly paint the cobblestone.  You first see the soaked cotton of her top and how it shakes as her small figure shivers in the cold.  But that isn’t what catches your eye and leaves you dizzy.  It’s the way her pants have tightened, showcasing the sculpted definition of her thighs and how they flow upwards to display the perfectly round curve of her ass.
As she turns, you force yourself to pull your gaze upwards, feeling your face flush as your pulse continues to quicken.  You drag your eyes up her body, past her toned stomach that hides beneath the sopping garments, past her pert breasts and stiff nipples that strain against the soaked fabric, past her shaking shoulders and kissable neck and diamond jawline and roseate lips and adorable nose until finally you meet those chocolate eyes that stare back at you.
“T-Thank you s-s-soooo m-much,” Nana responds, fighting off her own shivers as she takes the clothes from you, then darts off towards the warmth awaiting her, leaving you frozen in more ways than one.
You do your best to ignore how difficult it is to remove your soaked pants, especially as they cling to your skin and especially because of your hardening erection that’s impossible to miss.  After removing all of your drenched attire and placing the dripping bundle alongside the jacket you loaned Nana, you attempt to dry yourself off, saturating the towel with frigid water far quicker than you’d hoped you would.  Once you’re sure that you’ve gotten your money’s worth, you add the towel to the pile in the sink, then put on the pajamas you’d grabbed and turn up the thermostat to its highest setting.
Once you're confident that you’ve done all you can, you collapse, couch creaking in protest at the impact.  In this moment to breathe, the events of the day begin to hit you, flashing across your mind in sync with the droplets of rain against your window.  You think of all the places that defined your childhood.  You think of faces long forgotten.  You think of faces you’ll never forget.  You think of echoes.  You think of her atop that bridge.  You think of her atop that bridge.  You think of all the words that escaped your lips.  You think of Nana’s small hands lifting the weight of the world off your shoulders.  You think of her body on top of yours as she pinned you down with kisses.  You think of her body.  You think of the cold.  You think of heat.  You think of your soaked clothes clinging to your skin.  You think of Nana’s soaked clothes clinging to her skin.  You think of Nana, dripping wet.  You think of Nana, dripping wet.
As you stare out the window, your mind vaguely registers the sound of a hair dryer.  But soon even that sense joins the others, consumed with the thoughts of Nana.  One storm for another.  You’re not even sure if the words escape your lips.
The door opens, and you get up to face Nana.  She’s radiant, each strand of gold and each centimeter of porcelain glowing in the dim light of your apartment.  She’s wearing glasses.  She’s wearing your favorite shirt.  She’s wearing nothing else.
“Hey,” she whispers, somehow slotting seventy emotions into that single syllable as it floats over to you.
You've always viewed Nana as pretty.  She's always been cute.  She'll never not be beautiful.  But as you fight off the arctic chill that permeates your bones, you realize you've never looked at her this way.  You can't help but notice how hot she is.  You see Nana as sexy for the first time.
“Hey,” she calls again, tilting her head and leaning to the side.  It’s unfair, the way she sinks against the doorframe.  It’s immoral, the way she makes herself look even smaller as she hides in the folds of your shirt.  It’s incomprehensible, the way the wide rims of her glasses make her pleading eyes look even bigger.  It’s criminal, the way she hides her intent behind that innocent smile.
“Are you just gonna sit there with your jaw on the floor for the rest of the night, or are you going to say something?”
“N-Nana, if you could s-see what I see, y-you’d be speechless t-too,” you manage to get out, unable to suppress the shivers as you respond.
“Well, you could walk into the bathroom that I might have sorta turned into a sauna,” Nana offers, the smallest of smiles beginning to show.
“Or …” she continues, taking her time as she closes the distance between you two.  “I could warm you up …”
Your arms wrap around her instinctually as she presses her body against you.  You can feel the sculpted frame hidden beneath the oversized shirt.  You can feel the tension.  You can feel the heat.  And as your eyes drift down to her lips, you can feel your reservations flying out the window to join the falling rain.
You kiss her.  Gently.  Delicately.  And she shoves you backwards onto the couch.
“Absolutely not,” Nana declares, climbing into your lap.  She wraps her arms around your neck, licking her lips hungrily before pulling you close.  Within a second of her claiming your lips with her own and beginning to grind against your lower half, any questions you might have had join your reservations on the pavement outside.  You match her intensity, running your tongue along her lips patiently, then expectantly, and claim her mouth as soon as she lets you in.  Your hands roam, dragging your fingers like ice cubes across her hips and down her thighs as she hisses into your mouth.
You work your way up her body, past her waistline and under your her shirt.  You travel further, past the lean abs she’s worked so hard to sculpt, across the ridges and valleys of her expanding and contracting rib cage, all the way until the tips of your fingers brush the sensitive underside of her breasts.  The whimper that escapes her mouth into yours is immediate.  It’s needy.  It’s pathetic.  It’s the hottest sound you’ve ever heard.
The soft, malleable skin becomes a pair of perfect handfuls as you explore the fringes of Nana’s breasts, sending sparks through her synapses and shockwaves down her spine.  You break away from her kiss, just for a moment, just long enough to watch her collapse onto you as you finally knead her swollen nipples between your fingers.  You take the opportunity to access the curve of her neck, mentally noting where earns the loudest moans as you suck, kiss, and nip the sensitive skin.
“Look at you, so desperate,” you whisper into her ear, grinding your hips against hers and forcing her to moan.  “I’ve barely even touched you, but somehow you’re even more drenched than earlier.”
“And you know what’s the worst part?” you murmur, stretching a single second across the tension before continuing.  “That’s nothing compared to what you’re doing to me.  I’ve never been so hard in my fucking life.”
“You—you’re—OH!!!”
You know what you’re doing when you latch onto that particular spot on the base of her neck; that her response is going to be lost, lost in the sound of her moan echoing against your walls.  But you also know what she wanted to verbalize, what her body has been telling you as it tenses up even further.  So, when you feel her shaking, on the precipice, you’re more than willing to lend a hand.  You’re happy to detach from her breast, brushing against her sensitive folds with the back of your hand.  And so, when you’re kind enough to simply graze her clit with an icy fingernail, you also make sure to hold her as she comes undone.
The first orgasm you give Nana is a cinematic experience, with a soundtrack of the most ungodly of moans alongside her quivering limbs and the deathly grip on your shoulders as if you’re the only thing keeping her afloat.  You gently trace circles along her back, whispering sweet nothings into her ear and holding her as she rides out the high.  You wait, long after the quivering has ceased and she’s unclenched her hands, long enough for her to meet your eyes and show you that the fog has lifted.
“Hey,” you murmur, goofy grin growing wider as you see her eyes flash with outrage.
“You can’t keep doing this!” Nana exclaims, huffing in frustration when all you have to offer is your gleaming smile.  “You can’t just blow my mind and change my life and end it with a ‘Hey’!”
“Who said that was the end?” you ask, humor discarded as your tone drops.  “You did what you said you would, now we’re both hot and bothered.”  You look into her eyes, see the recognition and excitement.  Then, you see the desire reignite as you thrust upwards, teasing her sex with only a bit of friction.  “What are you going to do about it?”
Nana meets the challenge with equal passion, whispering into your ear, “I’m going to show you a side of me that no one has ever seen before.”
Having adequately spiked your blood pressure, Nana climbs off you, moving with idol-like grace as she sashays towards your bedroom door.  Having reached the end of the runway, she turns, throwing off her shirt and modeling her pristine form for you.  She’s divine.  You somehow tear your eyes away from her flawless figure, staring instead into her molten eyes.  She captures her bottom lip between her teeth, slowly dragging them across the soft, pink skin before twisting her innocuous expression into one of sinister glee.  She’s sin incarnate.
Then, she’s gone, retreated back into your bedroom.  You’re off the couch in a blur, flinging off your shirt and pajama bottoms, discarding the soaked pieces of clothing as they join the rest.  You round the corner, entering your bedroom, and you have to pinch yourself to make sure you aren’t dreaming.
You’ve seen Nana dozens of times at this point, seen her in outfits ranging from luxury goods to school uniforms to casual attire to athletic wear.  You’ve seen her when doted on by professional stylists, just after a dance practice, and everywhere in-between.  But when you see her here, in your bed, wearing nothing but a smile and absolutely glistening in anticipation, you swear your heart stops.
You climb onto the bed; you climb on top of her.  You kiss her.  Not lightly, not lustfully, but lovingly.  And when she kisses you back, you feel that exact same longing.  Despite the sincerity in the kiss, you don’t feel the heat in the room diminish at all.  No, you just realize it’s everburning.
You pull away.  Barely.  Just enough room for words.  Just far enough to see her eyes.
“No interruptions this time, it's just you and me,” you murmur, causing her to shudder in anticipation right up until a thunderclap echoes throughout the apartment and makes you both jump.
“We really need to work on our timing, don’t we?” Nana jokes, harmonious laughter escaping her as you see her anticipation, affection, and arousal merge, forming the euphoric expression she wears earnestly.
“Yeah, so maybe one interruption,” you say, laughing along with her until her mess of giggles comes to an end.  
“But you are mine, Nana,” you whisper, your hot breath inflaming her senses as each syllable reaches her ears.  “I am yours, and tonight belongs to no one else.  Just us.  Tonight is ours.”
“Perfect,” she whispers back, that single word a lit match she drops directly into your heart.  “What now?”
“Show me,” you say, rolling you both and flipping your positions so she’s atop you.  You give her control.  Earnestly.  You give her your trust.  Easily.  You give her your all.  You give her everything.
When she takes your length in her hand, giving you your first hints of pleasure, you groan in relief.  When she lines you up with her entrance and drips arousal onto your tip, you inhale through your teeth, hissing as if you’d been burned.  And when she lowers herself onto you and takes you inside her, it literally takes your breath away.
“Fuuuck…” Nana hisses, sending your heart rate into the stratosphere.  “It feels … so … fucking … amazing …”
“You’re incredible Nana,” you growl through gritted teeth, hands latching onto her hips and gripping tighter than you probably should.  But any expectation of you being perfectly in control of yourself is entirely unreasonable when she’s moving like this, taking you deeper and deeper into her warmth at an agonizingly slow pace.  You can’t help it; her face, her body, the way she quivers - you can’t tear your eyes away, not when you see the beads of sweat splattered across her furrowed brow.  Not when you can practically hear the grinding of her tensed jaw.  And certainly not when her closed eyelids hide those rich chocolate eyes.
“Take your time,” you whisper soothingly.  “No need to rush, I’ll stay here forever as long as it’s with you.”  You see some of the tension evaporate from her shoulders, but that does nothing for the vice grip she still has around your cock.  Her progress accelerates slightly, taking on more and more of you with each passing moment before finally, finally your hips collide.
“There we go,” Nana mumbles, reopening her eyes and regaining a bit of that hubris you’ve come to know and … like.  Having finally reached her destination, you can see the gears turning in Nana’s head as she starts to experiment, rolling her hips against yours and exploring all the possible sensations she can experience.  One particular angle catches you off guard, causes you to moan even louder than before.  You see it in her eyes, see how they immediately ignite.  She repeats the motion, ripping another of those moans from deep within your chest as you see that gleefully sinister smile return.
The image of Nana bouncing up and down on your cock is obscene yet puts all other art to shame with its beauty.  You simultaneously appreciate and despise her dancing background as she moves with unyielding precision.  She places her hands on your shoulders as she continues exploring, utilizing her flexibility and strength to adjust her position and flex her muscles in ways you’d never thought possible, much less experienced.
“Oh my god Nana …” Your words trail off, lost to the pleasures of her latest findings, but they fan the flames all the same.
“Tell me how good that feels,” Nana purrs, punctuating her point by sliding herself back down onto the base of your cock.  Then again.  And again.  And again.
“It feels so—FUCK!—ing good,” you manage to choke out, throwing your head back in pleasure.  Almost instantly, Nana grabs you by the chin, pulling you forward and making it impossible to look anywhere else.
“Don’t you dare look anywhere else,” she growls, sending a new sensation down your spine as her ceaseless riding continues to chip away at your sanity.  “Tell me how I make you feel.”
“You—ugh!” Words escape you, your mind unable to comprehend things other than pleasure and pain and Nana.  Your grip tightens, tight enough to bruise, as you desperately try to cling to something, anything.  “You feel amazing.”
“What else?” Nana asks, picking up the pace.
“You drive me insane,” you tell her, sparing her hips further punishment as you focus on her breasts once again.
“Tell me more,” she demands, riding you even faster.
“You’re unbelievable!” you yell, mustering what little oxygen remains as you match her volume.
“More.”  Even faster.
“You’re perfect,” you say, voice dropping as her pitch rises.
“More!”  Faster.
“I love how you make me feel.”  Even quieter.
“More, more!!” she demands greedily, hips bouncing at a delirious pace as her face tenses once more.
“I love you Nana,” you whisper sweetly.  But you refuse to let the sentiment disrupt the moment, following her hips up as you thrust into her and throw off her rhythm.  “Cum for me.”
“FUCK—”
Nana somehow manages the impossible, staring through you with misty eyes as she succumbs to pleasure, drenching your lower half and the sheets below in her nectar as her orgasm violently overtakes her.  It takes everything you have to remain motionless, cock painfully throbbing as you try not to overwhelm her.  Each of you experiences the seconds as if they were lifetimes, you on the verge of pleasure and her well over the edge of it.
“You didn’t cum?” Nana asks, shifting slightly in your lap and forcing you to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from exploding inside her right then.  She raises herself off of you, maintaining eye contact the entire time she moves away and positions herself between your legs.  As she leans forward, opening her mouth and letting her warm breaths torment your torturously erect shaft further, she has the audacity to wink at you.
“Time to change that.”
The sight of her fucking tongue teasing the sensitive skin of your cock all the way from base to head is ungodly, and you know immediately, no camera flash required, that this image will be burned into your mind for all eternity.  It’s almost demeaning how casually she destroys you, idly wrapping her fingers around your shaft as her tongue begins to swirl around the head of your cock.  “Fucking hell Nana …”
If your words affect her, she’s doing a damned good job hiding it, drooling unapologetically all over the fingers that twist and pump your shaft, priming it as her mouth continues to work its way further and further down.  And all the while, the entire time she molds you to her desires like putty in her hands, she holds your eyes.  Lovingly.  Expectantly.  Enticingly.  
“I’m close …” You try to warn her, but her hum in response sends an all-new type of shock all the way down your shaft, cutting off any further waste of oxygen.  Your hands tangle into your sheets, threatening to shred them in your grip as you fight to keep the desire to let loose and absolutely defile her throat.  “I’m gonna—”
Nana ignores your words, listening to the signs of your body as she delicately unwraps her small hand from around your shaft.  The faintest flicker of disappointment flashes in the back of your mind, but it’s immediately eradicated as Nana forces herself downwards, catching you completely off-guard as she takes you into her throat, consuming you entirely.
“NANA!!”  She rips her name out from deep within you, sending you soaring over the edge of orgasm as you are unmade by pleasure.  Your body tenses and contracts, overwhelming pleasure pulsating from head to toe and every centimeter in between.  Wave after wave after wave after wave of your cum fires into her mouth, but you’re unable to bear witness as your eyelids shield you from the unholy sight.  It’s so much, so fast, that it drives you to the perfect intersection of pain and pleasure, leaving you unable to do anything but feel.
Eventually, your orgasm comes to an end, as all things must.  The first thing you do is open your eyes to see Nana, mouth still snugly around your cock as she swallows the last of drops of your deluge.  The second thing you do is remember to breathe.  You watch as she detaches herself from your cock, then joins you, for the second time today, in an agonizing minute of shaking shoulders and heaving chests as you both attempt to force enough oxygen into your lungs to be able to speak.  Fortunately, you’re both able to.  You just happen to do so first.
“So … dinner?  Or are you good … after …”
“I’m actually going to murder you,” she mutters, and you don’t even try to stop the laughter that forces its way out.
“You know, I was going to be upset at you for the whole ‘not maintaining eye contact’ thing,” Nana says with a smile of her own, climbing up the bed to lay against your side.  “But considering I’m the one that made you nearly black out, I’ll give you a pass this time.”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” you offer, smiling sheepishly as you wrap an arm around her.  “But you were—”
“Yeah, uh …” she interjects, trailing off as her rapid pulse quickly delivers a crimson flush to her cheeks.  “I don’t know … it was just really nice—and really hot—to hear you say those things about me.”
“Any time,” you say as you lean in, gently kissing her on the crown of her head.  “By the way, did you … I didn’t really see …”
“Oh, this?” Nana asks, opening her mouth wide to show you the tongue and walls, unbesmirched by white.  “I’m sure you agree that was pretty hot, but I guess that means you don’t wanna—”
You roll over slightly, propping yourself up on your elbows as you climb over her once more, leaning down and cutting her sentence short as you capture her lips.  A small squeak of surprise escapes before she matches your passion, wrapping her arms around your neck as your tongues begin to dance.  As the intensity rises your heartbeat follows suit, sending blood all throughout your body and especially one place in particular.
“Not done, huh?” Nana murmurs, capturing your bottom lip between her teeth and gently sucking on it as she looks at you with her seductress’ gaze.
“For you?  Never,” you murmur back, intent and invitation clear in your eyes.
“We’ll have to test that sometime …” Nana responds, mirth and mischief manifesting in her smile as she releases your lip.  “For now though … show me.”
The kiss you leave on her lips is fleeting, acting more as a palate cleanser than any declaration or escalation.  You grab a pillow with one hand, lifting Nana up with the other and placing it under the small of her back as you set the stage.  With a bit of additional leverage gained and anticipation built, you line yourself up with her entrance, looking to Nana who nods in confirmation as you enter her once again.
You push further into her slowly, eager to reach the previous round’s intensity but mindful of her pleasure as her tightness suffocates your shaft.  Ravenous for more, you lean in, greeted by the mixed scents of coconuts and cherry blossoms and sweat and everything else about her that makes your head spin.  You’re quick to attack her neck again, latching onto one of the many spots you noted earlier and sucking relentlessly.
“Wait wait wait, no marks!” Nana exclaims, placing her hands on your shoulders and pushing you away from your target.
“I’m so sorry, I should have—” Your apology grinds to a halt as Nana, sinful gaze meeting your own, delicately lays a single finger against your lips.
“No … visible marks,” she clarifies, smirking seductively as she lowers her arms and offers you free reign once more.
You’re more than happy to seize the opportunity, capturing one of her nipples between your teeth and beginning your oral assault as you suck, swirl, and tease her with your tongue.  One hand begins exploring her body, creating only the tiniest bit of contact as it glides over each area of her flawless skin, searching for unexpected pleasure points anywhere you can reach.
“Be vocal,” you murmur, breath rolling like fog over her breast.  “I want nothing more than to know every single spot on your body that drives you wild.”
You see out of the corner of your eyes Nana opening her mouth, as if to respond, but as your hips collide once more and you fully bury your length inside of her, a deep, heady moan bulldozes through her best laid plans and tears free instead.  As you begin to thrust faster, deeper, you sink your other hand below her waistline, searching only a moment before finding the sensitive bud of her clit and adding it to your list of ministrations.
“Tell me Nana, tell me what feels good,” you say, soothing voice a stark contrast to the frenetic pace at which you chase her pleasure.
“Your fucking mouth, I love how you suck on my—ugh!” Another day, you’d feel cruel for cutting her off so rudely, but honestly, who could blame you for doing what she asks?  “And the way you feel inside me, thrusting in so deep …”  This time, it’s a sharp intake of air, but you’re happy to earn another moan as you thrust deep inside her again.  Then again, for good measure.  One more time.  “And I love the way you … with your hand … on my thigh … yesssss …”  You’ll have to make a special note for that one, apparently figure eights are the best pattern to trace along the inside of her thighs.  Who knew?
You get lost in the perfection that is Nana, thrusting wildly as you ride the high all the way up to the summit.  You mar her flawless skin with marks of desire, leave little reminders of pleasure where no one else will see them.  You feast on her skin, attempting to satiate a hunger you both know will never be sated.  Your hands roam as well, acting with a mind of their own as one roams every uncharted inch of her skin while the other stays glued between her thighs, toying mercilessly with her most sensitive area.  It’s plenty for you to keep track of, but if Nana’s reactions are anything to go by, it’s bordering on too much for her to handle.
Time’s a relative thing in general, but here, in the bedroom with Nana, there’s no eternity better spent.  You chase your pleasures together, call and response, back and forth, her and you, united as one.  You cherish the opportunity to care for Nana for once, bringing her pleasure in as many ways as possible.  “Fuck!”  You seek those profanities.  “Oh god—”  You crave those indecencies.  “You’re gonna make me …”  You hunt her peaks, and as she thrashes, shakes, quivers, and cries in your arms, you’re there to hold her the whole way down.
“Nana, I’m getting close,” you tell her, growing delirious as pleasure begins to overwhelm you.  “Where—”
“I swear to god if you cum anywhere other than inside of me …” Nana threatens, though her glassy eyes and lolled tongue diminish the impact a bit.
You feel Nana’s legs wrap around your waist, pulling you in as her arms do the same.  Her lips claim yours, capturing any senses that weren’t already completely overwhelmed by her and her alone.  As you lean into her, tongues dancing as your body disconnects from your mind, pleasure shoots through your veins like a shot or seventy of adrenaline.  If you were any more coherent, you might’ve been able to enjoy the details, like the way your cock’s twitching or the way Nana shudders slightly each time you fire another shot into her or the way you keep pumping, refusing to let any of your cum go anywhere but as deep as you can fuck it inside her.  Unfortunately, all you experience is the taste of Nana on your lips and the red, foggy haze of rapture that permeates your fucking soul.  Unlucky, really.
Your orgasm ends, eventually.  You force yourself to pull away, force yourself to focus so that you can see the elated expression of a well-fucked Nana.  There’s the faintest hint of tears in the corners of her eyes, each one earned at her own apex of pleasure.  You withdraw further, pulling out of her fully, then lay beside her and pull her into your arms.
“Hey there beautiful, you alright?”
“Not the word I would use,” Nana murmurs into your chest.  “We should get caught in the rain more often …”
Once again, quiet laughter escapes you, as it always seems to when you’re with Nana.  “I’ll keep that in mind,” you promise.  “In the meantime, we should probably get cleaned up and showered.”
“Not yet …” Nana groans, lightly smacking you like you’re an alarm clock disrupting her beauty sleep.
“Okay okay, no rush,” you respond, pulling her close and allowing the sounds of the gentle rain to fill the room.  You treasure the tranquility, basking in the simple sensations of her hands in yours and her soft breaths against your chest.  Many stanzas later, the storm’s song softens, then slowly comes to a close, but you stay there together, finding solace in each other’s embrace.  Eventually, once Nana’s fully recovered, you get up to turn the shower on and begin grabbing things, giving her everything she needs: tissues, wipes, water, hugs, kisses, and your undivided attention.
“I know this is an incredibly egotistical question, but can you walk?” you ask, smiling sheepishly as she rolls her eyes.  “Or do you want me to carry you?”
“Yes, I can, but carry me anyways,” Nana declares, throwing open her arms and waiting expectantly.
“As you wish,” you declare with a flourish, bowing deeply before scooping Nana into your arms and carrying her bridal style into the bathroom.
“Showering together?” she asks suggestively and shamelessly.
“Showering together,” you reply warmly, setting her down and testing the water.  “Let me spoil you for a bit, no need to rush.”
“Very well,” she accepts, stepping into the shower.  “Now hurry and get in here so I don’t have to warm you up all over again.”
“Yes ma’am,” you respond, climbing in after her.  You’ve never been more grateful for your replacement shower head and its absurd water pressure, though you make sure to get close to Nana just in case.
Even as you two rinse yourselves off, you can’t help but be mesmerized by the water flowing down Nana’s perfect figure.  You watch as the many drops coat each long strand of her flowing golden locks, run down each beautiful feature that comprises her face, then finally succumbs to gravity after tracing every last millimeter of her jawline.  From there, you follow their journey as they land on her collarbone and continue on into sacred territory.  Thousands of individual droplets gently caress the curvature of her breasts as they pass by, while thousands more race down the soft skin of the arms and hands that inspire so many fans to dream of their embrace.  For those droplets lucky enough to remain attached after traveling past her abs and below her waist, a pair of gently toned legs defined by years upon years of dance await.  Finally, between the pale skin of her inner thighs, the perfectly shaven holy place of indecent desires and fantasies awaits a lucky few.  Lucky you.
“You’re staring again,” Nana says, breaking you out of your reverie as she smiles shyly.
“Nana, I absolutely am,” you admit freely, shamelessly.  “You’re right here in front of me and I still can’t believe you’re real.”
“Oh, um … thanks,” Nana mumbles, turning away from you just as you see a familiar splash of crimson.
“You’re welcome, now hold still,” you tell her, grabbing a bottle of conditioner and squeezing some into your hand.  “Let me wash your hair.”
“Oh!  I mean, okay …”
You spread the viscous liquid across your hands, then begin massaging it into the many, many strands of gold that flow together and form her hair.  “This conditioner worked wonderfully back when I had lighter highlights, so hopefully it should be fine for you too.”
You trail off, focusing on the task at hand and the silk between your fingertips, but you can’t help but add, “But I wouldn’t mind buying some of whatever you normally use and keeping it here … just in case.”
Nana turns back, glaring at you for a moment before allowing you to continue.  “That’s a sentence with a whole lot of implications, but you’re cute so I’ll let you get away with it.”
“Good to know!  I promise to not use that information responsibly,” you jest, grinning uncontrollably as Nana huffs in indignation.  “Okay, let that sit for a couple minutes before rinsing it out.”
Nana turns, stepping closer to you and keeping her hair out of the waterflow as she does so.  “Can I wash yours?”
“Of course,” you tell her, handing her the bottle before closing your eyes and leaning down to allow her easier access.
“Thank you …” she murmurs.  After a few anticipatory moments in the dark, you feel her hands start working their way across your head, massaging you and coating your own strands in that same liquid that you apply on a daily basis, but have never experienced like this.
A whine slips past your lips as she finishes and pulls away, causing a score of giggles to emerge as you open your eyes to see the adorable, joyous expression of Nana’s smiling face.  “So, what’s next?”
“I’m going to wash my body with this,” you tell her, holding up a bottle of body wash as you hand her a different one.  “And you can wash yourself with that, because if I end up putting my hands all over your body, we’re never getting out of here.”
“You’re probably right,” Nana admits, mischief taking over her smile.  “However …”
“You’re not the one paying the water bill, shush!” you exclaim, turning away and beginning to lather yourself up.  Nana’s laughter rings out once more, reverberating off the tight walls of your shower as she too begins to wash herself of the improprieties that cover every centimeter of each of your bodies.
Somehow, you both manage to behave, rinsing yourselves off before getting out and toweling yourselves dry.  Nana sits as you brush her hair like Rapunzel, blow drying it slowly as you meticulously work your way through her golden mane.  It isn’t easy to find a comfortable set of clothes for her to wear, but with a pair of rolled pant legs and a hair-tied shirt, you’re able to make do.  Together, you eagerly order delivery from your favorite chicken restaurant, and while you’re waiting, begin the process of cleaning up.
Nana helps you strip your sheets, the most traumatized victims of your shared endeavors, off your bed, then assists you in wrangling a new set onto the mattress.  Your heart glows with warmth at how right it feels to perform such a mundane household activity with her, even as the fitted sheet snaps up once again and nearly hits you in the face.  Nana’s laughter rings out first, but yours is close behind, warding off any frustration as you enjoy the little simplicities of spending time with her.  You both clean up your kitchen, sending your soaked clothes to join your laundry as hers go into the wash, cleansing them of the rain’s influence as you both settle on the couch.
“I think that’s everything we needed to take care of,” you say, just as a thought crosses your mind.  “Do we need to get you some—”
“Don’t worry, I’ve been taking precautions for a bit.  You know, just in case,” Nana tells you, tone relaxed but eyes alight with mischief.
“You—what—just in case?!” you sputter.  “Since when?!”
“That night Wooyeon walked in on us,” Nana remarks casually.  “I wasn’t gonna let you kiss me like that without finishing the job.”
You’re frozen in silence, unsure whether to follow-up with confusion, accusations, questions, gratitude, or something else entirely, but the familiar cadence of the delivery man’s knocks on the door saves you from needing an answer.  After enjoying your meals and making some light conversation, you both end up on your insanely comfy couch, curled up together under your stupidly soft blanket as Nana selects another movie, this time opting for a cheesy romance flick that she swears is different from the rest.  Ultimately, she’s not wrong, as any experience shared with Nana ends up being far more enjoyable than the alternatives, and you end up enjoying yourself quite a bit.  You lay with her, laugh with her, and hold her close as you wipe away her tears.
Enthralled by Nana and her investment in the movie, you barely even notice as the hours pass, the clouds dissipate, and the sun shines bright for a fleeting flash before disappearing below the skyline.  It’s not until the movie finishes, fading to black for the final time, that you note the darkness that’s overtaken the world outside your little corner of paradise.  After confirming with her other members that she’s free tomorrow, Nana joins you getting ready for bed.
“Here, this has barely been used,” you tell her, handing her a toothbrush and smiling as a thought enters your mind.  “I guess I’ll just have to get you one of those too.”
“You just might have to,” Nana says, wide grin mirroring your own as you both begin your nightly routines.
A short while later, after locking up and killing all the lights, you join Nana in bed.  It’s an odd sensation as you turn off your alarm clock, something you haven’t done in months, maybe even years, but when you see the weary eyes Nana’s fighting to keep open, you decide it’s for the best.  You turn to her, exchanging good night’s and I love you’s before she closes in, kissing you tenderly before turning away and snuggling close against your body.  You two form a perfect fit as you hold her, refusing to let go even as sleep overtakes you.  Tonight, you have neither prayers nor requests, simply gratitude for the blessing in your arms.  Tonight, you dream of neither girl nor ghost, simply a warm silence that wraps itself around you in a familiar embrace.
tick…
tock…
For once, for the first time in a long, long while, your awakening is not sudden, but serene.  Your eyes slowly open, witnessing the twin golden glows that illuminate the tranquil space in their soft, mellow light.  You’re forced to squint slightly at the brightness of the rays of light filtering through the window, but even the rising sun pales in comparison to the radiance resting within your embrace.  Nana’s resting expression is one of bliss, subtle curves of a smile hidden at the edges of her lips even as she leisurely draws breath.
Somehow, sometime in the middle of the night, she seems to have interwoven your hand with hers, clutching it tightly against her breast as she lies dormant.  You can’t help but feel, in this moment, it seems almost too perfect to be a dream.  Like your mind wouldn’t even entertain this as achievable in a best-case scenario.  Yet here you are, blessed beyond imagination.
You get an idea, hoping to surprise her with breakfast.  You slowly, delicately attempt to remove your hand from hers, but are stopped suddenly as her grip tightens.  “Stopppp …”
“You’re awake?” you ask in surprise.
“Of course, since before you woke up,” Nana murmurs, pulling you closer.  “I just wanted you to hold me longer.”
“Nana, I …”  Your words trail off, your mind unable to even form words as you try to comprehend how you could possibly deserve something this perfect.  “Thank you … Are you hungry?  I was going to go make breakfast—”
“Breakfast can wait,” Nana interjects, flipping over to face you as she snuggles in even closer.  “Just stay with me, like this.  Please.”
This time, at least, you know exactly what to say.  “Of course, Nana.  Anything for you.”
She remains silent, but the pounding of her heart tells you everything you’d ever need to know.  You do as she asks, pulling the covers back over you as you wrap your arm around Nana, pulling her closer as you plant a gentle kiss atop her head.  Somewhere, deep in the back of your mind, you know that the clock ticks ever onwards.  But as you look down and see the little smile that only you seem to bring out of Nana, you realize there’s no better way to spend an eternity than moments like this with the one you love.  You’ll stay.  Forever, if she wants.  And with the way she clings to you, like you’re the only thing keeping her on Earth instead of up with the other angels, you trust that she’ll stay too.  Maybe even forever.
tick…
tock…
tick…
tock…
“So, is hugging a common thing with you?  Like, do you greet everyone you meet by trying to break their ribs?”
“Are you complaining about my hugs?!” Nana gasps, unwrapping her arms from around you and pulling away.
“No, absolutely not!” you exclaim, nearly tripping over your words as they leave your mouth at the speed of light.  “I’m just curious, okay?  It seems like a big thing with you.”
“Fine, I’ll answer your ridiculous question,” Nana says, retaking your arm.  “I occasionally give hugs to people I’m close to.  I often hug those I care about most.  I always hug you.”
“Oh,” you manage to say.  Your curiosity sated; you allow the comfortable silence to return.  As you two walk together, you marvel at the vibrant streets, delighted in the changing of the seasons as spring brings its warmth to what was a desolate Korean winter wasteland.
Unfortunately, a single dark shop stands out amongst the rows of brightly lit stores that litter both sides of the street.  Your destination, Aunt Kim’s noodle shop, seems empty.
“Oh no, it’s closed!  If only someone had an apartment nearby where we could spend the evening instead,” Nana announces dramatically, looking up at you and waggling her eyebrows shamelessly.
“If only,” you say, tugging her along.  “Let’s go see if she left a note saying when she’ll be back.”
“‘Closed this evening for a special occasion’,” Nana reads aloud.  “‘Will return to normal business tomorrow.’  That’s strange, I wonder what’s so important that she was willing to close the shop.”
“Strange indeed,” you agree, searching around in your pocket for a moment before pulling out a key.  “Wanna find out?”
Before she even has the chance to respond, you unlock the door, pushing it open and holding it for her as you invite her in.
“Give me a sec!” you call out, venturing into the darkness as she follows you inside.
“What?  How did you …” Nana trails off, covering her eyes as you flip the switch and restore light to the establishment.  Within, two steaming bowls wait upon a small table near the left corner of the store; upon “your” table, the one where you two have always sat over the past couple of months, the one with the edge broken off, the one that’s imperfect, but that’s okay, because nothing is.  Well, except Nana.
“No but really, what is going on?” Nana asks, walking as if in a daze as she joins you at the table.
“I wanted to do something nice for you for your birthday,” you explain, pulling out the chair for her.  “I thought it’d be nice to have the place to ourselves for once, and Aunt Kim was kind enough to agree.  She seemed more than willing to help out, probably because of our … ahem, ‘generous contributions’ to the store.”
“Ah, I see,” Nana chuckles, smiling brightly.  “Thank you, but you really didn’t have to do all this …”
“Maybe,” you admit with a shrug.  “But for you, I’d do anything.  This is the first time I’ve gotten to do something sweet for you, just let me spoil you for one night.”
“Alright, fine,” Nana says, huffing in mock exasperation.  “Then let’s eat!”
You both eagerly dig in, savoring the familiar tastes of your favorite meals.  Unsurprisingly, even as the flavors dance along your tastebuds, the sight of Nana in front of you is all that matters.  Even with her golden color replaced by a dark chocolate brown, her radiant visage shines under the warm amber glow of the Edison bulbs above.  You lose yourself in the sight of her, food long forgotten until her voice brings you back to reality.
“This is soooooooooo good, did you make this?”
“Oh, gods no,” you exclaim, earning a laugh from each of you.  “Aunt Kim was kind enough to make it just before we arrived.”
“Okay good,” Nana replies, wry smirk locked and loaded as she continues to fire shots.  “I don’t think I would have ever been able to forgive you if you brought me here just to subject me to your cooking.”
“Oh, come on,” you say, rolling your eyes and turning away to hide the smile you can’t contain.  “You know you love me.”
“Obviously.”
That single word has no right to hit as hard as it does, but you can’t help but whip back around to face her.  You pause, allowing the smile to slip as your voice drops.  “I love you.”
“Believe it or not, even more obvious,” she responds, still attempting to hide behind levity.  But you see it in the faint glimmer of her eyes, in the way her lips part slightly, in the way she leans in just the slightest bit closer.
You don’t have to move far to close the distance, leaning in and gently pressing your lips against hers.  The combination of the dishes’ flavors explodes across your senses, adding a new type of spice to one of your favorite activities.  Even more than usual, it drives you crazy, amplifying your hunger as you greedily up the intensity, wrapping your hand around the back of her neck and—
“Honestly, at this point, I’m not even surprised.”
Nana immediately breaks away from the kiss, turning to see Wooyeon walking in, a box in one hand and her forehead in the other.
“Seriously, we just keep having the worst timing,” you say, laughing warmly as you stand to greet her.  “Thanks again for picking this up, I really appreciate it.”
“You’re very welcome,” Wooyeon responds, taking a seat next to Nana.  “Your place is nice by the way.”
“Wait, you’re telling me Wooyeon got a key to your place before I did?” Nana asks indignantly.  “Unbelievable, really.”
Your laughter follows you as you retreat to the kitchen, where you grab Wooyeon’s meal and return to the table.  “That is a good point, I should be careful who I give those out to.”
“Indeed,” Wooyeon says, smirking sinisterly.  “I might just invite myself in some time.”
“Alright alright, enough,” Nana declares as you burst into a quiet fit of laughter.  “Please, can we try to have a normal dinner?  It’d be nice to have an interaction between my two closest friends that isn’t awkward or cut short for once.”
The two of you agree and all three of you dive back into your dinners, casually conversing about your days, how good the food is, and basically anything at all.  You happily join in, enjoying the chance to get to know Wooyeon better and seeing a new side of Nana that only her friend and fellow idol can bring out.  A month ago, you never could have imagined seamlessly going from conversations about your work to stories about their backstage adventures to what movies they’d watched recently.  Yet, on this especially significant day, you’re happy to join Nana at the intersection between her personal and professional life.  You’re happy to make a joke and be blessed by the harmonization of Nana and Wooyeon laughing together.  It’s musical, it’s magical, it’s meant to be.
“Now, will you tell me what’s in the box?” Nana eventually asks.
Wooyeon looks to you for confirmation, then reaches down and opens it, revealing an overly frosted, downright cartoonish-looking piece of cake that looks like it was taken right out of a Kirby game.
“Oh my god it’s perfect!” Nana exclaims, eagerly grabbing for her phone as you take a finger and run it through the icing.  “Hey!  I was gonna take a picture of that!!”
A devious smile creeps across your face as you lean forward, booping Nana on the nose and getting frosting everywhere.  “HEY!”
You immediately lean away, desperately attempting her wild assault as Nana attempts to return the favor.  Within a minute, you’re out of breath from laughing so hard, and from the corner of your eye you can see Wooyeon not faring much better.  Nana catches you, of course, and you’re forced to suffer the consequences of your actions as bits of frosting are smeared all across your face.
Eventually, the commotion settles and you’re all able to enjoy the piece in peace, savoring the wonderful flavors as you share it together.  Well after the sun sets, well after the streets outside go dark and the clock ticks past the shop’s normal closing time, the three of you remain, sharing stories, telling tales, and enjoying each other’s company.  As always, a small part of you rues the passage of time, knowing that this too must come to an end.  But for as long as you possibly can, you preserve this moment, refusing to take it for granted as you treasure the memory being made.  Because you know that you’ll remember this night for the rest of your life.  Because nights like this make you realize you’ve been gifted everything you could have ever wished for.
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(My sincerest gratitude to @braaan and @majorblinks for reviewing this fic, I can’t thank you enough for how much your insights improved it and how much your love & support meant to me.  This fic is dedicated to @capslocked, a known believer, and @okaylikesmomo, the newest member of the cult.  I hope you enjoyed reading this story about hugs that happened to feature smut; the next story idea I intend to finish features far more snark and smut, with no hugs in sight.  Anticipate it at your own risk.)
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