#this got long but i hope you all know what i MEAN
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home ties | charles leclerc social media au
pairing: charles leclerc x fem bff!reader
got a home race curse? that's no match for the power of friendship
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
yourusername
liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 31,498 others
tagged: yourbestfriend
yourusername: today i start my pilgrimage across europe - i.e. i'm a 20 something who is inter railing to try and 'find herself' BUT i shall be stopping at any church i can find, bestie @charles_leclerc we're getting that home win this season
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user1: INTER RAILING? BUT BUT BUT WHAT ABOUT CHARLES?
user2: this better be a SHORT trip because i need her in the ferrari garage this season
charles_leclerc: don't have too much fun without me :(
yourusername: iMPOSSIBLE
charles_leclerc: good i hope you miss me everyday
yourusername: like a wife waiting for her husband to come home from the war
charles_leclerc: why am i not the wife?
yourusername: i mean you're the one going here, there and everywhere
charles_leclerc: but i'm the pretty one?
yourusername: die ❤️
charles_leclerc: do you or do you not have a picture of me in your locket?
yourusername: do you or do you not want me to lay offerings for wins this season?
charles_leclerc: noted.
user3: these fools are so dear to me
user4: i know we need positive male and female friendship representation but like god i need them to fall in love
pierregasly: so fuck me then?
yourusername: is your name charles leclerc?
pierregasly: i have known you just as long as charles
yourusername: so has max and este you don't see them bitching up a storm in this comment section
maxverstappen1: i mean i just about to but ummmmmm have fun travelling!
estebanocon: i am very secure in our friendship.... some people not so much
pierregasly: i will spit in your coffee
estebanocon: it's already on the top shelf, good luck goblin!
yourusername: okay............ but thanks max!
user5: i love how most of this grid grew up together - not because it's cute but because they're all rude to each other
user6: they'll cry over each other's wins but won't follow each other on instagram
charles_leclerc
liked by yourusername, pierregasly and 1,207,683 others
charles_leclerc: an okay start to the season. get well soon carlos!
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user8: @yourusername i know you're on your travels but you really need to get your ass back in the garage
charles_leclerc: trying real hard not to blame her rn
yourusername: skill issue
charles_leclerc: HOW DARE YOU
yourusername: if you need me to perform, then babe that's on you
charles_leclerc: is it really a crime to want my best friend with me at races
yourusername: did you not include my letters to you in your very instagram dump
charles_leclerc: but those are just letters :(
yourusername: just letters? i see. i guess i won't send any more
charles_leclerc: NO I'M SORRY PLEASE KEEP SENDING THEM
user9: i'm so sorry but this is too cute to not be romantic
user10: i know platonic soulmates exist but damn they're making it real hard to not believe they're in love
user11: they're either in love or charles is a puppy with severe separation anxiety
pierregasly: have you considered that he could be both
user12: HUH?
yourusername: regardless .... i'm proud of you doofus
charles_leclerc: thank you pookie
carlossainz55: do i not get a get well soon? anything?
yourusername: i'm glad you didn't die?
carlossainz55: i guess i'll take it
user13: y/n is unapologetically a hater
yourusername: no i'm just a charles stan first and foremost
user14: as you should
yourusername
liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 39,412 others
tagged: yourbestie
yourusername: yeah i'm here in the middle of a random forest eating hard pasta but charles was back on the podium so more candles and offerings coming your way
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yourbestie: do we have to stop in every church?
yourusername: YES
user15: i need someone as passionate about me in my life
yourusername: i am COmMITTED TO THE CAUSE
yourbestie: too committed i'm tired
yourusername: sit back and enjoy the stain glass windows let me do the work
user16: i feel like i'm having charlesxy/n withdrawals already
charles_leclerc: me too
user17: instagram live? twich? TWITTER SPACES? i'll do anything
yourusername: babe i'm in the middle of the forest
charles_leclerc: i thought you'd make it work for me but i see how it is
yourusername: stop i will cry and run home
yourbestie: ?
charles_leclerc: i'm sorry, enjoy your travels i just miss you
yourusername: i miss you too :(
yourbestie: gross
maxverstappen1: so like how do we go about getting you light candles for us?
pierregasly: good luck bro
yourusername: first of all, ew. second of all, no. third of all, YOU DON'T NEED THE HELP
maxverstappen1: okay damn tough crowd
charles_leclerc: you've not got the leclerc charm buddy
maxverstappen1: i've seen the 2012 haircut clearly charm was needed
charles_leclerc
liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen1 and 1,409,562 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: look who's backkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk
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user20: phew i thought he was gonna die from separation anxiety for a second there
maxverstappen1: he's just dramatic
yourusername: so you don't want the souvenir i got you
maxverstappen1: I DO I DO I DO
yourusername: you know what you have to do
maxverstappen1: ugh. i'm sorry charles, your weird need to be with y/n at all times is kind of cute (if you weren't 26 years old already)
user21: the fact he's so pumped for her to be back - fave duo ever
user22: not to be that one freak but the last picture is looking very girlfriend to me
user23: you make a good point but i don't wanna get my hopes up just yet
user24: was his separation anxiety not enough? i feel like there's no way he could be in another relationship when he wants to be with her so often
yourusername: i'm glad to be back - the wilderness was lovely but nothing compares to you
charles_leclerc: teehee
yourusername: and i get to be reunited with my favourite gal pascale and light votives together
charles_leclerc: my lucky charms for real
pierregasly: i mean only one person has been there for each of your wins in f1 just saying
yourusername: so i'm sorry pierre i'm SORRY THAT MY APPENDIX NEEDED TO COME OUT
yourusername: but i do believe it contributed to the win
charles_leclerc: it did cause i raced so fast so i could get to your side quicker
yourusername: awwww a real gentleman (take notes pierre)
user25: how can they not be in love ^^^ LOOK AT THE MATERIAL PEOPLE
yourusername
liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 59,304 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: this is the set up for monaco week
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user28: babe is taking up residency in saint devote that's crazy
user29: idk what she's doing but the moon was red ... is she really going to manifest the home win
yourusername: if i can, yes! but if he does win it's all charlie and his talent
user30: ugh you guys are so cute
charles_leclerc: having you back and racing in monaco? best week ever
yourusername: it will be
pierregasly: once again no good lucks for us
maxverstappen1: i'm really starting to think our childhood meant nothing to you
yourusername: booooo the home town hero is obviously the one i'm supporting
maxverstappen1: you told me to "choke on your cock" when i asked if you would watch from my garage in zandvoort
yourusername: welllllllllll
pierregasly: just admit you have a favourite
yourusername; fine, charlie is my favourite
charles_leclerc: :)))))
pierregasly: :((((
yourusername: you asked me to???
user31: i don't know who will be happier if charles wins monaco charles or y/n?
charles_leclerc: i know who would cry more
yourusername: i'm a big crier and proud
alexalbon: not you guys coming for my albon_pets brand
yourusername: don't pit the kids against each other
charles_leclerc: let us be dog parents in peace alex
user32: so like that's their dog.... they're together?
user33: they're so confusing
user34: i mean it's so obvious they're in love so a dog really isn't that crazy
charles_leclerc
liked by pierregasly, joris_trouche and 3,874,099 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: monaco finally loves me back (and so does she)
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user35: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
user36: i am NOT okay
yourusername: so unbelievably proud of you charlie, you deserve this more than anyone and you've made everyone proud ❤️ 🤍
charles_leclerc: thank you my love xx you've always believed in me and i'm so glad i could share this moment with you
yourusername: you're the love of my life and i would do anything for you
charles_leclerc: you already have <3
yourusername: i would light every votive i can find again if it brings you joy like this again
charles_leclerc: you bring me all of my joy
user37: they're so cute your honour
user38: lowkey forgot that they confirmed their relationship because the win was simply hitting too hard
user39: it's hitting like crack and it will be the only thing i talk about for the rest of my life
pierregasly: congratulations calmar!! i knew you could do it and i'm very happy for you both xx
charles_leclerc: thanks brother, you next
yourusername: we love you pear !!
maxverstappen1: I KNEW IT
charles_leclerc: that i would win my home race?
maxverstappen1: yeah, yeah... congrats but I KNEW YOU FOOLS WERE IN LOVE
yourusername: yeah you and about a million other people, we weren't that secretive
maxverstappen1: let me have this one thing
user40: yeah this is the worst kept secret in the world
yourusername: sorry guys but have you seen my boyf, there's no way i wouldn't be showing that off
charles_leclerc: HAVE YOU SEEN MY GIRLFRIEND???
yourusername: awwwww i love you
charles_leclerc: and i love you too
fin.
note: here's a small one to celebrate charles finally winning his home race, i won't lie i did cry. idk it's when he brought up his dad it just started the waterworks but i'm so proud of my lil millionaire racer guy :)))
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 instagram au#f1 x you#f1#f1 social media au#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fanfic
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Hi could I request an Anthony c wife reader fic where they are in a heated argument and Anthony accidentally says he regret marrying reader so she ends up giving him the silent treatment and just ignoring him so he can grovel for her forgiveness
regrets
(mean?) anthony bridgerton x wife, fem!reader
summary: anthony realises the importance of words
warnings: argument
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As you trudged down the antique staircase, you couldn’t help but ponder the lack of the presence of your husband recently. He was always locked away in his office and whenever you confronted him, he would always reply with: “I still have more work, Y/N.” After he said that, he would kick you out of his office. You were really missing Anthony currently and you longed for his touch, despite never really enjoying physical touch, you longed for his touch.
And so that is what led you to now, storming into his office, without even knocking. Anthony huffed quietly as he looked up to see you. He held his head in his hands as he stared back down at his pile of paperwork. “What?”, he asked blatantly as he eyed the paper. “Is that all you have to say to me?”, you asked bemusedly. “Yes. You stormed into my office whilst I am working.”, he justified. “Do you only care for your work and business?”, you asked with an upset expression.
“No, it is just so overwhelming sometimes. It is a requirement that I see to all of it as the Viscount.”, he responded as he shuffled in his chair. “Is it not a duty to spend some of your time in the presence of your wife?”, you asked as you focused on the elegant wooden desk, avoiding his intense eyes that often gave away his emotions. “I suppose so. I almost regret marrying.”, he confessed. You simply stared at him. Did he really regret marrying you? Why did he go through all of the effort of making your wedding perfect for you if he didn’t want to get married?
Silently, you forced your feet to carry you back into your bedroom which was fortunately not shared with Anthony. In the past, you would spend your sleepless nights in his room and he would go into yours if he burned for your passion. You slammed the door shut and locked it: to be certain that he would not enter your chambers. You needed to be alone.
It was safe to say that it was yet another sleepless night but he was not there to ease you through it. Amidst the sunlight of the rising sun, you hastily got ready for the day; you requested for your hair to be more simply styled today and your robes less detailed and delicate. Truth be told, you only asked your maids to do your hair gracefully for Anthony, you hated the process and you decided that you would not care about what he’d have to say about your robes: he didn’t need to acknowledge his wife anymore.
You sat at the table in silence whilst you ate breakfast with him opposite you, none of you making eye contact.
You sat on the sofa as you read in silence which felt unusual with out your updates to Anthony and his queries on where you had gotten up to.
You sat in the picturesque garden in silence.
It was not until dinner that Anthony broke the silence. “Y/N.”, he began as you pushed your food away from you like Anthony had you. “I do not know where to begin.”, he continued as he gazed across at you. “When I spoke such words, I did not realise they would be so harmful and impactful.”
You glanced up for a split second and saw the sparkle of sincerity in his eyes before going back to playing with your food. “I know that you will not ever truly forgive me for those unkind words but I hope you will at least know this: I did not mean it like that. In fact, I almost meant the opposite: I feel as though because I am the Viscount I am unable to take care of my wife and spend the needed time with her.”, he stated in one breath. “I almost feel pitiful for my wife: no one should be neglected simply because they are my wife. I just do not know how a woman could love me for I was not made to be a tender husband or a loving father. I was made to be the Viscount. Those are my duties. And so I thought to myself: you deserve so much better and so why should I bother when I cannot give what you require?”, he pleaded with a new sense of vulnerability in his eyes. You knew how hard it was for him to open up and for him to admit to this, you were proud of him.
“Anthony, you are the perfect husband (when you want to be).”, you mentioned teasingly. He let out a teary smile. “And I know that in the future you will be the most loving father to our children. You even admitting to feeling like such proves it.”, you responded as you slowly made your way over to his side of the table.
Once you had reached him, you carefully caressed his jawline as he gazed up at you whilst tears gently rolled down his cheeks. He placed his arms around your neck and pulled you down so he was able to passionately kiss you, conveying his love for you. As he pulled away, he cautiously grabbed your hand and guided you into his room. For the first time in weeks, you slept through the whole night.
#anthony bridgerton#anthony bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton x you#anthony bridgerton x female reader#anthony bridgerton imagine#anthony bridgerton one shot#bridgerton#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton imagine#bridgerton x y/n#bridgerton x you#bridgerton x female reader#fem!reader
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I ADORE your art and how well you match the ISAT artstyle. I've been being alot of studies to try replicate the style and draw characters 3d but stylised. Are there any tutorials that have helped you, studies you do, or things you keep in mind whilst drawing to make the characters look so 3d?
Oooaaahh thank you!!! This is a really good question. I say that because I feel like I "2D cheat" ISAT art a lot. It's very comfy to draw bc my normal art is like that too, with angles that shouldn't be able to exist but look right bc it's 2D so your brain forgives it. Design of the art > accuracy of the anatomy, y'kno?
The hair kind of gives it away in most cases. It's meant to be such a specific shape, it kind of stops looking like the character if it gets too 3D? But drawing it more 3D has huge utility too, especially for animation n stuff. It's just something I've noticed about the style! It's very designed for 2D. It's very "the shape of the lines" > "the shape of the 3D object"
It's helpful to remember that ISAT characters are all made up of really simple shapes. Like Siffrin's head is just a ball from nearly any angle but the side. Their body is a cylinder but one end is wider than the other. Odile's face is a ball but the bottom is long, like an oval. Isa's is a ball but his chin is square, it has soft corners. Even Bonnie's face is a ball you just add a cheek bump. Etc etc.
^Notice how i can't simplify the hat down into a consistent 3D shape bc otherwise it just. kind of. doesn't look like Siffrin's hat LOL
If you have the simple 3D shapes down then the rest of it is all 2D cheating and focussing on details! Having character refs nearby at all times especially when ur tryna figure out how to draw the character is KEY so you can keep looking at it and comparing. Try to pay attention to the little quirks of the art style that differ from yours and try to mimic them. But don't be afraid to let your style infect it a bit if it helps you to create something more dynamic looking.
It helps that i've been drawing for ages. I know 'practice' is the age old advice but here's my spin on it: just draw, keep drawing what u want no matter if it looks bad or if some professional artist tells you you're doing it wrong. So long as you keep drawing you are learning. Indulge and draw what you want so you get to keep all the motivation and keep going.
oh and PUSH YOUR POSES/EXPRESSIONS!!! By this I mean, draw it once, and then lower the opacity and draw it again on top but pushing everything a little bit further. If a pose feels stiff this tends to fix it.
uhmmm i rambled on for ages but i hoped it helped u Tea (or anyone else reading)! thank u for the excuse to draw a bunch of funny isat doodlies :D keep going you have GOT THIS!!! THERE IS NO WRONG WAY TO MAKE OR ENJOY ART! YAY
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One Heck of a Joyride[Ft. WooAh's Nana]
Word Count: 14-15K~ words
Collab with @octoberautumnbox
My Author's Notes: we are so excited to finally release this fic for yall, me and box have been working on this fic since the end of FEBRUARY (almost 3 months) and we have been working on it so hard to make it the best it can be so I really hope you will enjoy this fic
@octoberautumnbox's author notes: there u have it! took the better part of three months, but it was really fun to work on :DDDD Thanks to leafo for making sure i didn't slack LMAO
No tags since it is too long but this is fluff and smut
Thanks: of course @octoberautumnbox for working with me on this amazing collab. @4m1rz for being my lovely beta reader and @libraryoferos for being my motivation to not be lazy on this fic
And so without any further preface, let's get started, shall we?
================================================
“And I expect you all to get along this year. Leave the past behind you as you all face a new future together.” Sporadic applause rises slowly from the crowd and dies down twice as quickly. The dean sighs away from the mic and drifts offstage, leaving everyone disinterested in the rest of the program. It all goes by in a blur, and finally ends right as the air conditioners start to fail against the heat of a summer not-yet-ended.
Your attention is drawn away from the droning on and on from the stage and towards the many characters that populate the theater with you. You catch glimpses of people talking with their friends, a few crazy hair colours, and the occasional sleeping student who’s no doubt already saving up hours for the all-nighters to come.
Out of the corner of your eye, you notice someone in the front row with both people sitting next to her conspicuously leaning away. They seem to want to get up and leave her there by herself, but the way she gives no reaction despite the jeering tone coming from her seatmates leads you to think that she’s asleep herself.
~~~
“So yeah, That's the tour, bucko. Check the map if you’re ever lost.” Your student tour guide points at the multi-colored document on your phone. Vaguely you recall the various little symbols: which classrooms you can sleep in, which bathrooms are haunted, which shortcuts are best, all of the must-know basics of college life.
As you continue scanning around the campus, the girl from the assembly catches your attention again. She has her hood up this time, but you can tell it’s her; her quick pacing and how she is not looking around at anyone making you believe that she’s trying her best to hide.
“What about that one? Do we not talk about her?” you ask, pointing at the oblivious figure walking past, drawing eyes and whispers much like your own.
Your guide scoffs at the absurd idea. “That’s Nayeon. And no, we don’t. She fucked up last year, big time. Got a bunch of us in trouble. So stay away from her, she has those goody-two-shoes germs.” he says, walking away as while signaling you to follow him.
You wonder what she could have done to gain such a reputation. She was adorable earlier with her hood off, but the way people talk about her makes you want to steer clear against your own will.
~-~-~-~
Curiosity ends up killing the cat, and you manage to gather bits and pieces of the incident from last year from gossip, class lore, and even the way some professors acted:
“She’s the luckiest bitch in the world with not a single shred of common sense. Seriously, who goes and rats on a hundred other students like that?”
“The test incident shows she only looks out for herself, even if it means bringing down the entire class.”
“There’s really no excuse for it. You have the answer key in your hand, of course you take a picture! You don’t just leave it where it’ll incriminate some other innocent loser and say you’re only trying to do the right fucking thing.”
The sheer number of factoids you gather from the wild bunch of sources only slightly make sense. Unfortunately, trying to piece them together only took up more space and brainpower which you should have used to study for your midterms coming up. Keep to yourself and you can just barely pass and move on; there is no time for college drama.
After the exam, you approach the professor to ask about possibly bumping up your grade. You decided to maybe half-ass an extra credit assignment and get the lowest passing score, but you resolve to just see where it goes. While lost in thought, you nearly bump into the small girl in front of you. already talking to the teacher, and by the way they’re whispering, it seems like it’s something serious.
“I’m not sure what you’re trying to do here anymore, Miss Kwon,” the professor admits as he takes off his glasses and rubs his nose bridge. “None of this was necessary. I thought we wanted to leave all this behind us.”
Nayeon looks down to her toes in defeat. “I’m sorry, Sir. I was just thinking, maybe I’d get sent out of class this time.” Her voice cracks, giving away her vulnerable state: she’s near tears but trying to fight everything back to look tough. Sadly for her, you think, none of it is working.
“Look, just try to lay low. It’s your last year before all of this starts to not matter anymore.” Your professor finally puts his glasses back on and looks Nayeon straight in the eye. “Trust me, you’re better off keeping your head down. You’ll be fine.”
She walks despondently off to the right and out the door. Your feet choose to follow her, but a sudden jolt restores your common sense. “And you, Mister New Guy, what seems to be the problem? Beside your dismal score, that is.”
You have a slight feeling you are not getting a higher score.
~-~-~
After talking it out fruitlessly with the professor, he releases you from his classroom and you make your way out. The conversation with him didn’t take long, and so you arrive to a few jeers and muffled laughter once you step outside.
“Serves her right. Trying all this bullshit isn’t gonna change anything.”
“Seriously, cheating on a test she obviously studied for? How dense could she be?”
“I bet she just wants to show us up. She’ll study and then cheat, then she gets perfect marks on the test and she’ll show us she’s untouchable again.”
You find it hard to believe that Nayeon would resort to something as convoluted and pointless as that, but then again, you really don’t know her to make a judgment. Whatever she was thinking, you agree that it was idiotic to pull that sort of thing, even if you didn’t see any of it.
The weather on campus is the right mix of cloudy and sunny, with rays of light shining respectfully on the grass and pavement of your college courtyard. Something tells you that people-watching by the gym feels like the perfect lunchtime activity for a day like this, so you find your way to the properly noisy setting and look for a spot out of the way.
You settle on a spot by the side of the gym with the perfect amount of shade and wind, but you’re instead drawn further back to the rear by strange and irregular noises. Turning the last corner, you’re met with a surprising figure.
It was Nayeon, sitting with her back against one of the walls, her entire body curled up like a ball. You slowly inch closer and closer to her, and you realize the strange noises that you heard before were instead sniffles and cries coming from the lonely girl. Finally as you get close enough, Nayeon feels your presence and raises her head.
Her eyes were full of tears, who knows for how long she had been crying, and you could feel the sadness coming from her eyes; they were trying to tell you something, however, it's hard to figure out what. Her expression of sadness didn't stay for long though as soon enough her expression turns angry when you get closer to her, squatting down to look at the girl from a closer angle.
“Please, go away. Leave me alone.” The small girl pushes you away, but with her hand preoccupied wiping away her tears, she can’t do much to get rid of you.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? You have the nerve to do what you did last year and still show your face?” The anger in your voice catches you off guard. Since when did you take it personally when it came to her?
“Oh fuck off, new guy,” she taunts. “So I’m fucking hiding here, what more do you want?” She tries to act tough again, but it’s painfully apparent to both of you that it isn’t working. At this point, you really do just want to leave her alone. And just like every other time, nothing’s stopping you. So why are you staying?
You breathe a sigh of defeat at the situation you find yourself in. “Look, I don’t have any sort of beef with you personally, but come on. This is pathetic. You’re only embarrassing yourself by doing all this bullshit that isn’t like you at all.”
“And what if it’s not like me?!” Her shout sends a few birds hiding in nearby bushes to take off. This sort of language takes you aback from her; Little Miss Perfect Kwon Nayeon, top honour student, teacher’s favourite pet, hating herself?
“I… I don’t like being me, and I don’t like what I am.” She wipes her tears again and tries (and fails) to look you in the eyes once more. “So if you’re another member of the ‘I hate Nayeon’ club, well… Better show the club president some respect.”
She sits back down with her back against the wall. Nayeon's eyes are wet for the last time before she wipes them off and faces her lack of tears.
Normally in situations like those you would just walk away and ignore people like those for the rest of the school year, but for some reason with Nayeon in front of you, showing herself being weak, fragile, and sad, something about her makes it so you can't leave the situation alone. Curiosity gets the best of you, and you have to know why.
“No,” you turn back to her as a determined expression is painted on your face.
“What?”
“I'm not leaving you alone until you tell me.” You stand your ground, arms crossed, and Nayeon can't seem to be any more pissed than before. “What is going on? What do you mean you don't like yourself?” you ask.
For a while, no one dares to speak another word, and you wonder if what you have here is an argument. For a good few seconds, she stares at you intently as silence hangs heavy in the air.
“You think,” she says defeatedly between sniffles, “that I'm Little Miss Perfect, right? Like everyone calls me ‘the straight-A girl?’ Well I’m not, and I’m tired of everyone saying so.” She fishes out a very used handkerchief from her pocket and wipes her eyes of tears, only for them to be replaced by more.
“It can’t be that bad, Nayeon. People look up to you, I’m sure.” You finally notice your alarms are blaring and you’re put on high alert. What you just said was the exact wrong thing to say, and you’re at critical risk of involving yourself in her messy situation more than you should.
She side-eyes you, calculating if you’re being sincere or not. She stuffs her handkerchief back into her pocket carelessly as if knowing that she’ll only pull it back out again soon. She looks down at her hands, deep in thought, looking like she’s trying to grapple with something she might regret.
Once she’s done, she fumbles around in her backpack. She fishes out a tiny black notebook she seems to keep so well hidden, on the cover of the notebook the words ‘Nana’s Bucket List’ are scrawled in big, bold, immature-looking letters.
“Throughout all of my life, I always wanted to be the top student, the best of the best like no one ever was, and I succeeded, you know…” she scoffs. “Top marks in Elementary, Middle school, and Valedictorian in high school.” She sighs and tries to fight back more tears, though you notice she’s a bit more successful this time, with a bit of hope and yearning in her eyes.
"But on the other side… The other side seems so great. I mean, I see all these movies and books about college life," she says in between residual sobs and hiccups. She opens the notebook, showing you a not-so-long list, and even though it's hard to see the text from the small size of the writing, you can make out a little bit of what’s written on the paper.
Cheat on a test
Get drunk
Party all night
Dye my hair
Sing in an Open stage show
Sneak into a Public pool
Shoplifting
You know...
Most of what you read makes zero sense, and you’re half-convinced this girl is just crazy. You stare at the scribbled letters, hoping to draw more meaning from them, but Nayeon shuts the little notebook in your face and starts putting it back away.
"I want to do them all. Drinking, breaking glass bottles, partying, all that stuff," she explains dreamily. She zips up her bag and pats it down, making sure it’s secure beside her, and turns her attention back to you, “I want to live like a normal girl, you know what I mean?” she asks, you are not sure if its because of the tears, but her eyes seem to glitter.
"That's very cliche, Nana," you jab at her, making fun of the nickname she gave herself.
"That's all I know, though. Please." She takes your hand in between hers and looks up at you, teary-eyed and seemingly begging for her life.”This wouldn’t kill you, all I’m asking for is some help crossing stuff off of the list.”
You hate how well it works on you: her big, round eyes, her adorable little pout, her cute pleading voice. It goes against everything you know, and even now you’re sure you don’t want to get involved in whatever this would turn out to be. And yet, despite even the most deeply ingrained lessons you’ve learned for yourself, all it takes is a brief moment for it to come crashing down.
With a disbelieving sigh and a sense of regret creeping in, you ask: “What’s in it for me?”
~-~-~-~
You take a bite of your burger and breathe out. Cheap bun, dubious patty, artificial cheese, it all takes you back to a past life. You're left to momentarily wonder how you ended up where you are now, and slowly it comes back to you. You messed up.
"So, about the list." Nayeon sets down her cup, ice cubes clinking against each other as they swirl around her soda. "I already did one. So that’s one less thing for us to do”.
"I can do that much math, Nayeon. What do you take me for?" You chomp down on a few fries grumpily.
"I didn't mean it like that. All I'm saying is there are just a few more months left until graduation, so we'll need to be quick. We can’t be lazy about this." She pulls out the little black notebook and flips to an unfamiliar page. The words "cheat on a test" has doodles of a devil's horns and wings and tail around it, with lots of eyes and ears decorating the rest of the ruled paper. Above it, the poster you recognize from the movie "Bad Genius" is copied, albeit crudely, in a thought bubble.
"I did this one last year, don't ask. Anyway, this next one should be easy enough." She flips to the next page, showing a couple pictures of beer cups and wine bottles, surrounding the words “Get Drunk.”
“Wait, is this the ‘incident’ people hate you for? What even happened there?” You eat more of your fries, trying to hide your curiosity. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work and she nips the conversation in the bud.
“That’s not anything you need to know. What matters is now and the future. Now are you with me or not?” She snaps the notebook closed and yanks it away from your sight, back into the pocket she keeps it in.
“I can’t help if I don’t know what exactly your deal is,” you say disappointedly. You pick up your own drink and take a sip, and the cool soda washes over your tongue and throat on the way down. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be with everything that’s going on.”
For a moment, you catch Nayeon’s gaze on you, dumbfounded. You could almost hear the gears in her head turning as she tries to process your logic, but it takes a while. As she thinks, though, you take a particular interest in how she handles it: her mouth is hanging slightly ajar and her eyes are only half-focused on wherever they’re pointed. You notice how delicately her bangs fall on her forehead, how her eyebrows furrow and crease, how she tries finding the right words yet can’t find the message she wants to send. Odd things to notice, surely, and yet here you are. You messed up.
It starts coming back to you. The jeers from your classmates as you walk down the hall grow louder in your ears, and you fight against your hands trying to cover them with the knowledge that none of it is real anymore. The tears you fight back all the time surface for another rematch, but with your current state, you may be at a disadvantage.
Fortunately, she shocks you back into reality. “Hey, are you listening? I’m feeding you, so the least you could do is pay attention.” She bites a small chunk of her burger and chews, and you notice how her cheeks puff slightly and the corner of her mouth is decorated with a dollop of mustard.
Cute.
1 + 2. Get drunk + Party All Night
“God, this is stupid,” you think to yourself, exiting the convenience store. With a plastic bag in your right hand and your phone in your left hand, checking the time and the address Nayeon sent you earlier today. Finding it was easier than you expected, and you tried not to let the walk to her dorm set any expectations for you.
You bring your knuckles to the wooden door and make three quick raps. It swings open very quickly and you’re dragged into the cozy space without even the slightest chance to take off your shoes.
“You took forever! Did you bring the stuff?” She looks all over you and pats you down, looking for what you brought her.
“Get off, will you? I put them all in my bag like a normal person.” You swing your backpack off your shoulder and carefully place it onto a nearby table. Nayeon takes a seat and waits excitedly for what you brought for the two of you. From your bag, you produce three bottles of soju, three five-packs of Yakult, six cans of beer, and four bags of chips. She eyes each item with absolute interest as they leave your backpack, and she hardly contains herself once you finish and zip up your bag once more.
“Okay, so how does this work?” Her eyes sparkle with wonder, and while waiting for your instructions, it was clear that as much as she was excited, she was also inexperienced.
“First off, get us some shot glasses and a pitcher. Oh, and a can opener.” Nayeon bolts off to the cooking area, and you can hear drawers opening and shutting loudly. You start getting concerned when you hear plates start to clatter against each other, but thankfully it dies down quickly and she returns with two small glasses, a decently sized pitcher, and a can opener.
“Shit. I meant bottle. Bottle opener.” Without even a hint of annoyance, she rushes back off into the kitchen and, after a few more rummaging sounds, she returns with the correct item. She really must not know what she’s doing.
“Come on, show me!” She shoves the bottle opener into your hand, and you’re left with no choice.
“Don’t you have a roommate we have to worry about?” You pop the cap off one of the soju bottles and then tear the aluminum top off two bottles of Yakult. “She’s out with her own friends. Hurry!” Despite her starting to get on your nerves, you pour all three into the pitcher and swirl them around together. Once you’re done, you pour the mixture into each of the glasses until they’re full.
“Bottoms up, Nayeon.”
“Bottoms up!”
The both of you down your drinks: yours slowly crawls down your throat, but hers disappears straight into her stomach. She reels at the burning lines left by the alcohol all over her esophagus and takes a bit of time to recover.
“Whoa, that was,” she says, and a burp erupts from her mouth, “intense.” She sways a little bit to the left before righting herself, and then overcompensates to lean to the left again.
“Easy there, champ. We’ve got two more bottles to go through.” You pour another shot for each of you, hers first and then yours, and raise your glass once more.
“Open the chips now,” you tell her. “This’ll be less dreadful with food.”
Both of you down your shots at the same time, and Nayeon reels at the sensation once more.
“Does that get easier?” Her speech is slowly starting to slur, the poor thing. “I’m kinda feeling a little something right now, too…”
“Yes, but only if you keep going at it, idiot. Don’t down everything so quickly.” Grab one of the bags of chips yourself, open and present it to Nayeon on the center of the table.
“Eat. You’ll hate this less.” You take a handful of chips and bring all of them into your mouth. Once you do, you raise your eyebrow at her to tell her to do the same.
“Isn’t… *hic* being hungry the thing for… faster drunk?”
“Apparently so, Nayeon. I don’t even know what I expected from you.” You take another shot, alone this time. She tries to pour her own shot, but fails miserably at getting the liquid anywhere near the inside of her shot glass. It’s adorable how she tries, though.
You pour her another shot despite a small voice telling you maybe she isn’t cut out for this much in such a short time. You shove the voice aside in favor of Nayeon’s own words: “We pregame, drink a little, and then we go. Party starts at 7:30, so we leave here by 7 o’clock.” Her shot glass fills with the drink, and you place it in front of her, making sure at least to keep an eye out for what might happen next.
She successfully picks up the glass and, sans the spills she made on the glass's way from the table to her mouth, drinks everything she could. She slams the glass onto the table in no light movement and you have a slight inkling of regret at letting her do that to herself.
“You… We have to… Fuck.” Nayeon’s head droops and she catches her face with her hands. She may have underestimated how strong soju is, or maybe what being drunk actually does to a person. A groan emanates from behind her palms, and you notice she’s having trouble holding herself up.
“Aren’t we going out after this? You might wanna slow down, idiot.” You pour yourself another shot and drink it leisurely. Nayeon tries leaning back onto the chair, and she finally pries her hands away from her eyes. She does a few quick blinks, and she tries to focus her sight on you. Her head sways a little bit, and it dawns on you that you may have overestimated her.
“I’m okay… just… we have to go.” She tries to stand up, but she wobbles dangerously and you have to catch her. Dive under her and take on her weight, thankfully not too heavy, and keep her from hitting the floor. She mumbles a bit about something you can only kind of understand, but it's enough to guide your next decision.
“Forget it,” you grunt as you plop her back into her chair, “we're not going anywhere.” An exasperated sigh leaves your lungs, and you head off to the kitchen to return with a large bottle of cold water.
“No… we have to go. We'll be late.” Nayeon tries to get up again, but there's no strength left in her body. She sits motionlessly, probably thinking that she's already stood up, and it gives way to a confused look on her face as to why she's still in the same place.
You fill a proper-sized glass with water and hand it to her, which she drinks obediently. You fill her palm with potato chips which she also eats without objection. The way her jaw moves, clumsy and slow, signals a threat that she might just fall over any minute.
You move your chair to her side and sit there, allowing Nayeon to lean her head on you. Her hair covers her reddening face, and her hiccups arrive in growing force.
“If you're still in there, Nayeon,” you say quietly, “we're not going out. I can't look after you this closely at a party.” All she does to respond is nod. Her hiccups are punctuated intermittently with sniffles, which you take as a sign that she knows she has no power left to object.
Still, you feel bad for her as her plans fall through. Despite the responsible thing to do, put her to bed and leave, you kick yourself mentally before deciding to stay anyway.
“Movies and snacks?”
~-~-~-~
Before you know it, the night goes by just as quick. You go through the list of movies she’d always wanted to watch: The Truman Show, The Great Gatsby, Mean Girls, and even then there’s still a few left on her list. You could tell she was watching properly halfway through the first, and that was the telltale sign that she’d sobered up.
You drink a bit more with her in between movies, and she would frequently pause to get up and put on a song to dance to. “It keeps me awake,” she said, “I can’t fall asleep before the good part happens.” The songs she put on are generic pop and the kinds you skip whenever they come up, but you let it pass for tonight.
At some point, she pulls out an old Wii and challenges you to Mario Kart. “I am undefeated in this game. I’m not even that good, everyone else that challenged me just sucked.” You take her up on her offer, and the match begins. You try and almost get ahead of her in a few of the turns, but she would always take back her lead at the slightest opportunity of you hitting a wall or missing an item. And the way she glows with pride every single time she crosses the finish line before you do, the sudden brightness that fills her face when she wins race after race, the confidence it gives her that she isn’t actually the worst person in the world, all of it is a sight to behold. People may see Kwon Nayeon as an arrogant goody-two-shoes traitor, but the way you see her now is different: just someone with a past to outgrow.
Right as the last movie’s credits start rolling, mischievous thin rays of dawn sunlight slip past the tiny gaps in the curtains. Both you and Nayeon have little energy left for anything else, and you maybe think it’s time to call it a night and go home.
“Let me walk you out,” she says while trying to rub the sleep out of her eyes for a little bit longer. You both get up and walk to the door, and as it opens your faces are flooded with a world right before it wakes. Dewdrops sit respectfully on leaves and blades of grass, birds are only starting to stretch their wings, and the crisp morning air fills your lungs with a calm grace.
You turn back to Nayeon, who you find is still admiring the dawn, and grasp her elbow. “Sit with me.”
You both squat down and take your seats again on her doorstep. Clouds roll in and dot the sky, wandering on the blank canvas of today, eagerly waiting for sunlight to block out. The sun peeks over the horizon and the first proper rays start to arrive, spreading warmth where they land. Nayeon meets your eyes one last time, and the pair of you find a sleepy and still a bit drunk person when you look at each other.
“Well,” you say as if it was a farewell, “good night, Nayeon. And good morning.”
“Good night,” she giggles back, “and good morning to you too.”
3. Sneak into a Public Pool
“Are you sure about this?” Nana’s tone is subdued by fear. Her voice shakes and struggles to be as quiet as possible, but at the same time you get the feeling that if you didn’t need to be quiet, she’d be yelling right now and trying to get the both of you to leave.
“Can you please shut up? I’m trying to focus!” You find the first of the pins and push it out of the way. For a moment, you lament how restricted you are: this could have been such a simple lock to break, replace even, but the girl dragging you around was deathly insistent on leaving as little damage and evidence as possible.
“You shut up! I'm whispering here!” Anger rises in her voice, and you almost feel anger in yours too. You're able to stop it though, and you remind yourself that if ever a guard was on watch that actually cared about this place, they'd be easily outrun.
The lock presents more of a challenge than you thought; despite the agonizingly simple solution of snapping its shackle, its inner mechanisms are harder to crack for whatever reason. Taking it pin by pin is supposed to be an easy task, but the warm and humid air and the incessant nagging seem to debilitate you. It’s such a nice night out for a swim, why make this any harder than it needs to be?
After what seemed like eternity you finally manage to pick the lock, sighing in relief as the both of you head forward quietly, but cautiously looking side to side just in case. The metal-grate door swings open slowly, avoiding any creaking sounds it may make otherwise, and the both of you enter the pool area.
“I gotta say Nayeon, this went better than I thought it would,” you say, both of you looking at the rectangular box of water which unlike during the day, was completely still, no waves, no splashes, just the water. It glistened and reflected all manner of light: the pool lights above and below the water, the yellow street lamps far off on the sidewalk, and the moon overhead, singing tones of wonder and mystery to those touched by its borrowed glow.
Off to the side, you find Nayeon fiddling with the hem of her shirt. Her head whips round incessantly as she tries to keep a lookout of the surroundings rather poorly. Sigh a deep one, and finally go over and take your seat next to her.
“Thanks… gimme a sec.” She finally grabs the hem decisively. The fabric crumples a bit under her grip and folds as it's pulled up.
You can’t help but watch as the shirt starts to leave her body, revealing a slim and toned tummy underneath. Your breath hitches as it crawls higher, reaching her face and obscuring her sight, and she inadvertently shows off a dark purple sports bra that’s… a size too small. Your gaze lingers on her cleavage and the flesh of her boobs lightly spilling out of the garment.
Nana turns around and you’re treated with the view of a beautiful back and shoulders to die for. The way her body twists and turns in the slightest ways to negotiate the shirt off of her form is the most sensual dance you’ve ever seen.
And you realize you’re staring. Fortunately for you, she doesn’t seem to notice, and she continues on to fold the shirt properly before setting it next to her sports bag. You opt not to risk staring any longer, and you decide to get rid of your own shirt. You strip quickly, and your shirt flies off approximately near Nayeon’s things in a messy pile by itself.
Sit on the edge of the pool, dip your feet into the water. There’s absolutely no reason for it to be this warm, you think, but whatever the case may be, it feels like a tea that’s just about to go cold. This, coupled with the humid air and quiet atmosphere, makes for a perfect night to spend on whatever this is with her.
She joins you and takes her seat at the edge of the pool, and in every other situation, you’d ask her to back off a bit. Instead, as she lays her head on your shoulder and takes your hand in between hers, you lose your steel in the most important of times.
“I’m scared.” Her eyes never leave the water, taking in the light dancing on its surface. Her face is fraught with worry, and while you know it’s for no good reason, you nevertheless try to reassure her.
“Yeah, someone might jump out of the bushes and arrest us for swimming in a swimming pool,” you say mockingly. “They’re gonna take us to court on the charges of ‘using something the way it was meant to be used’ and we’re gonna get life sentences. When we’re all old and wrinkly they’re gonna sit us in the electric chair.”
“Okay, I get your point. But still, though, I’m scared.” She grips your hand tighter, and for some reason you can’t resist her. Place your other hand over hers and try to calm her down. Nana takes a deep breath with her eyes closed, and finally looks at you with a reserved grin.
“Alright, I’m good. Let’s go.”
You feel her hand on your back, and warmth spreads from her palm. Her smile grows just a bit wider and her eyes follow suit. Her teeth show themselves from between her lips, and you’re almost tempted to dive right in.
Lucky for you, she helps. The hand on her back suddenly applies more pressure, pushing you to the pool and causing a splash going all directions. Collect your thoughts and raise your head above the water to see Nana, face full of laughter, right before she dives in the water with you.
It takes a second, but her head resurfaces and you find yourself relieved. She catches her breath once more, and before you know it, you're met with a faceful of chlorinated water. “What are you staring at?” She says between hearty laughs.
Wipe the water from your face, find the humor. Laugh with her, and face her properly.
Another shade of Kwon Nayeon. Granted, it's one with no makeup and way less clothes than usual, but none of that takes away from her natural, elegant beauty. It's captivating, the way her figure glides around the water, the way the cool night air wisps around the pair of you, the way the moon throws its rays around the world, your world, so haphazardly.
Another faceful of water, and you snap out of your daze. “Creepy ass,” she snorts happily. She splashes you again, and this time you fight back.
“Race you around the pool.” You start paddling, and the water grows loud against your ears. She says something back to you and starts paddling herself to catch up.
“Yeah,” you think to yourself, “whatever this is with her.”
4. Sing in an Open Mic
“Another night, another goal,” you muse, sitting in your car with Nayeon in the passenger seat. It has become quite a routine that every time she wants to do something on her bucket list she asks you to pick her up. You don’t mind too much — she pays for gas after all.
“Where do we go this time?” Nayeon just shoves her phone in your face, showing a map with directions to some bar out of town. She looks at you expectantly, but without any more information than what you’re currently getting, you’re at a loss for what she’s trying to make you see.
“A club.”
“Exactly.”
“We already did ‘get drunk.’”
“I know. This is different.”
“How so?”
“Take me here. Make me sing. Take me home.”
The pieces connect in her head and she pulls out the notebook again. She flips to a page you again haven’t seen, and when she shows it to you you’re treated to the sight of “Open Mic Stage” in graffiti-style letters and the poster of “Wedding Singer” scrawled in the bottom right corner of the page.
“If you have the map, why not just do this yourself? You didn’t need to wait for me. If anything, I’d only laugh at how bad you might be.” You push away her phone and notebook, choosing to return your attention to the sidewalk instead. The boba tea place you keep hearing about is nearby.
“That’s the thing,” Nayeon interjects again, “I have been there before. I listened to all the people singing, and they’re… some are good. I don’t know if I am, but I got shy at the last minute and I never even got near the stage.” She grabs your sleeve and your attention. “I need you to make me sing. Don’t let me chicken out.”
You shrug, “Sure, let's do it.”
~-~-~-~
Taking up two seats at the bar, you try and seem to fail at helping Nayeon calm down. Her guitar rests against the bartop beside her while she fans herself hurriedly with her hand. “It’s so nerve-racking… I knew this was a mistake,” she adds before turning back and trying to leave the place, however, you stop her in her tracks
“Come on, you worked so hard for this,” you say, recalling the number of recordings she sent you: one for each take she was doing. “You can do this,” you continue reassuring her, knowing she’s more ready than ever. At the same time, you could see your friend get more nervous by the second, now taking more sips of her water bottle.
“But what if I miss a chord, or I sing badly? Everyone will laugh at my mist–'' You know at this point she’ll only spiral to worse and worse thoughts, so you nip it in the bud and stop her right there. You take both her shoulders in your hands, making Nayeon stop her nervous rambling, and her cheeks turn a shade of pink.
“I believe in you, Nana. just take a deep breath.” You stop to let her do as you say, taking a deep breath in and slowly breathing it out. The tension leaves her with each breath she takes, and you find a moment to keep her stable. “Good, I am sitting right here, not leaving for any reason, so if you feel nervous, just find me. Look at me.” Her gaze softens at your promise, and her lips form a tiny smile in response to your words.
Hearing the current open mic singer finishing up his song, you send her off with some final words. “Your turn now, Nana. Break a fucking leg.” You leave her shoulders as her smile slowly starts to grow.
You watch her heading toward the stage, taking her guitar out of the cover, and taking her seat on the chair in front of the mic. “Hey,” she starts, “I am Nayeon… and I’m gonna sing Spring Day by BTS… I, uhh, hope you enjoy.”
She takes one last deep breath as you find her gaze on you. You return a reassuring smile, and Nayeon’s eyes fly back to her guitar. She strums her first chord, and the crowd’s welcoming applause rises.
youtube
“I’m missing you, when I say that I miss you more, I’m missing you…” Nayeon’s fingers strum the strings delicately, and it enchants you how graceful and in control she is of her instrument. The wood and metal of her guitar work together under her guidance to produce a beautiful sound, one you feel deep inside you'd never have heard the beauty of if not here, not now.
The way her lips move to articulate her words is heavenly, like she has you under a benevolent spell to bring you a rare sort of peace. It captivates you how she carries herself; behind her tough outer shell is a scared and confused layer, which hides a soft and optimistic core and wants to chase a brighter, happier future by cherishing the present. You marvel at your luck, that you were permitted to see so much of her, and how openly she welcomed you in when all she knew was aloneness and to shut people out.
“Snowflakes falling from the sky, are drifting further by and by…” Her heavenly voice draws you in, and it commands your attention like it speaks directly to your soul. The sound of Nayeon tugs on your heartstrings, pulling you closer to its source, and you let yourself get whisked away.
And to its source you look; find a girl with courage like you’d never seen. See Kwon Nayeon in a different light than the harsh monotones of the classroom fluorescents, but in a spotlight that she takes up with everything in her soul. It’s a different shade of her: a shade of Nayeon that only you could comprehend, a part of her that only you had the privilege to understand.
“I breathe you out there somewhere, like smoke in the air…” The space grows warmer, like a hearth welcoming you home. Your surroundings quiet down as Nayeon pulls them deeper and deeper with her subconscious command: rest, lay down your worries and fly for the moment towards your peace. You look around, and every fellow face in the crowd you see has their eyes fixed on Nayeon’s performance; they’d never know it, but it’s the debut of a person coming into a whole new life free of regret and cowardice. It’s Nayeon building herself up from the rubble of a past that she aims to forget.
“Flowers blooming towards the sky, has winter finally passed by?” The noise of the world seems to die down, as if just you and Nayeon are the only two things in existence. The pace of her strumming slows, as do the lyrics that escape her mouth. Every note she produces is deliberate, gentle, comforting, and for once you feel like you’re able to imagine a brighter tomorrow like her.
With her.
The song draws to a close, and she looks all over the crowd as they start to clap. You can't help but join in. Nayeon just bows lightly, and you can feel how happy she is that everything went well in her song. As she steps off the stage, you leave your spot and head toward her.
With both of you only a couple of steps apart, you chuckle lightly, “Well it wasn't so bad was—” You were stopped, caught off guard by your friend, dashing to you with open arms and crashing into your chest, wrapping her arms around you, and pulling you into an embrace.
No words are spoken; both of you just stand there, hugging each other, her face nuzzling your chest as you could faintly feel her heartbeat. You were quite surprised with Nayeon being so open with you, since it was just a short time ago you made your promise to help.
“Thank you…” she says, now releasing you from her embrace, noticing how her eyes shed small tears, that you couldn't figure out if they are tears of sadness, or happiness.
“... Always here for you Nayeon.”
“Please… call me Nana,” she says. She takes her notebook and crosses off another line from her bucket list, and as she walks toward the exit, you make way for the people coming by to greet her for the performance.
You can't help but wonder… has something changed after that performance?
5. Shoplifting
“Pick something already, it's not that hard,'' you remark impatiently while tapping your feet. Both of you are staring at the snack section of the local convenience store near your college, and Nana hovers her hand over the selection of snacks to look for the perfect one.
“Stop rushing me, I'm trying to choose which one will not get me caught,” she replies, still focused. The veteran petty thief in you groans, recalling your highschool days where nicking a cigarette or two (or ten) every once in a while gave you back huge chunks of your monthly budget. You miss the simplicity of it, and you once again find the restriction of being so careful more annoying than anything else. How come for Nayeon it is such a big struggle to steal one snack? You shoot the question up to whichever god might be listening, and you even half-expect an answer back.
“You are thinking about it too much, the cashier is probably not gonna notice even if you stole something that made noise,” you add, tapping your foot rapidly, like you were some parent spending too long in the toy section.
“Well, please forgive me, oh thug master, it’s my fault that I never did that shit before!” Her whispers are loud enough for you to hear clearly, your less-than-welcoming attitude leading her to take a deep sigh.
“Fine, if you want to make it easier, do the buy one steal one method,” you explain.
“The what?”
“Well to make it simpler than it already is, you dolt, you take two things, one you buy normally, and the other one you don't pay for,” you added as it seems to all make sense in Nayeon’s head. “Defeats the fucking purpose why we’re here, but really, the longer we spend here to leave with just four things, the more anyone will suspect us.”
Despite your best efforts to hurry her, they all seem to only make her take even longer. Her brow furrows deeper, as if trying to form lasers in her eyes to burn holes through the plastic wrappers.
Your patience wears thinner by the moment, and you resolve to isolate before you lose it completely. “So if you’ll excuse me, I will get my shit and meet you outside,” you say, leaving her alone in the aisle.
As a promise to yourself not to shoplift anymore, you decide to buy just one pack of cigarettes. You light one of them as you lean against one of the store’s walls, watching the sun start to set. Find yourself sitting down, admiring the beauty of a day near its end, taking in the world around you.
Two cigarettes and fifteen minutes later, a small ding sounds from somewhere in the front of the store. It’s Nayeon, half-running out of the building, her face painted with worry as she finds and walks towards you.
“So, you did it?” A smile forms on Nayeon’s face as she takes her right hand to her jean’s pocket, revealing a small candy bar. She brandishes the candy around like a magic wand, as if trying to charm you into being proud of her.
“Well… it's something,” you nod, while the two of you start towards her dormitory.
“Oh don’t say ‘it’s something’ when you didn't steal anything,” she exclaims. She holds the candy bar up against the setting sun, examining its entire wrapper. Now that you’re a considerable distance from the store, the worry on her face has been replaced completely by pride and excitement.
“Well I don’t shoplift anymore, the only reason I'm letting you do it is because you wanted the experience, which by the way,” you scoff, plucking the snack out of her hands, “all of that was for a chocolate bar.” This earns you a pretty strong punch on the shoulder, and the force loosens your grip on the snack enough for Nayeon to steal it back.
“Shut up,” she says, her cheeks seeming to grow a small shade of pink. She walks faster, leaving you no choice but to speed up as well.
6. Dye my Hair
“Do you think blonde hair will suit me?” Nana asks, holding the color card next to her face. You come in for a closer look, but as you stare you stop and wonder why you even did so in the first place.
“Yeah… uhh yeah, I think it can suit you well.” You weren't an expert in hair styles and colors, so honestly unless it was a color that was actually hideous, everything was fair game.
Nana smiles at your response and picks out a box of blonde hair dye to add to her basket. You’re a bit nervous that she wants to dye it at home with you, but any attempts you made to convince her to see an actual stylist have been dismissed. “It’s easy,” she said, “there’s instructions on the box.”
“So, how was it?” You’re half-convinced that the bleach is eating through your rubber gloves, but you soldier on.
“Was what?” Nayeon checks herself out in the mini-vanity mirror in front of her. You have to swat her hands away from her head with your elbows, but apart from that she stays on her best behavior.
“You know,” you shrug, “this whole thing. The stealing, the swimming, the dyeing your hair.” You try to keep the bleach from dripping onto your arms, mostly aiming for the scattered sheets of newspaper the two of you prepared on the floor, but there’s only so much you can do. You just resolve to wash off any drops as quickly as possible.
You get the feeling that she hoped you wouldn’t notice, but you did. The smile on her face dimmed the slightest it could before she could fix it. “It was… great! Stuff I’ll remember for the rest of my life, for sure.”
Like some form of cosmic karma, she spots your involuntary grin in the mirror. “Good. That’s good.”
The color drains from her hair bit by bit as you apply the bleach carefully. You’re not sure how quickly you have to finish, but Nana seems not to mind. You gently stroke and rub the product through her hair, taking special care not to come into contact with her scalp too often, all the while she turns her head from side to side to admire the look she’s going to have soon.
“You know…” she says suddenly, avoiding your eyes in the mirror, “this was really fun. I’m so happy I got to do all that stuff on my list.” Her smile changes: what was once a cheerful and optimistic smile just a few moments ago is now a wizened and melancholic one. “I mean it. Thank you for helping me.”
She makes eye contact with you again in the mirror, and she flashes that smile to you once more. Her hair grows lighter with each passing second, and as her back relaxes and straightens, it seems that the weight of the world leaves her shoulders as well. She breathes more easily now, and despite the fumes the box says you should do your best not to inhale, you breathe easier too.
~-~-~-~
You’re sat back again on her sofa, and Nana tries her best not to mess with her hair that’s still soaking. She looks kind of silly, what with her old towel around her shoulders faded to near oblivion, her hair in sections making her look like a half-done scarecrow, her hands going up halfway to her head only to be forced back down by the other.
And yet, you admire another shade of Nayeon. This time, it’s a girl who’s scared of the future, of changes she might regret later on. It’s something deep in her character, even central maybe, to be afraid of things she can’t take back. Even then, she takes her leaps and bounds to try and outrun her past, and finally, you see the razor edge that keeps everything in balance: Nayeon’s fear which dictates her present, and Nana’s strength which leads her to her future.
“Hey,” you say abruptly, surprising even yourself, “you good?”
“I think so. My head’s itchy. Is that supposed to happen? Should we wash it off?”
“No, jackass, it’ll look even worse if you quit halfway.”
Your words set in and she realizes you’re right. Worry seeps into her face and you notice tears start to well up in her eyes.
“Look, this might not be comfy right now, but I promise it’ll be worth it later on.”
“Really? You promise it’ll look good?” She looks over to you with pleading, shiny eyes, and it almost hurts to tell her no.
“I said I promise it’ll be worth it. Not that it’ll look good.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?!”
You chuckle at the sudden rise in her voice. After all this time, she’s still Nayeon, still Nana. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.
“It means… if you stick with it, there’s no way you’ll regret what we just did.”
7. You know…
The end of your senior year of college rolls around, and the graduation ceremony is still fresh in everyone’s minds. Photos of friends together and square caps thrown into the air decorate your social media feeds for a good few days, and you can’t deny the whole thing was something you wouldn’t forget for the rest of your life.
And finally, Nana’s bucket list has been finished. To think that all of it was done in the span of a college year is quite impressive to say the least, as before you started she was lost in her own goals and left sitting for a good three years. Now, looking at your diploma, it was not only a sign of your successful studies at college, for you it was also the sign of helping your dear friend get to where she wanted to be.
Speaking of the devil, now sending you a message
On the way, you see various people from her dorm building heaving away bags and suitcases, undoubtedly taking advantage of the nice weather to move out. You see people hugging each other, taking selfies, exchanging numbers, and all the while you think of each of them with their own stories to tell when they get home, but none so interesting as the one you and Nana built together.
The walk up the stairs was more of the same, people saying goodbye, and you can’t help but feel a bit of nostalgia. It was by no means a short year, but for everything you did, the feeling of wanting just a bit more time never seems to leave you. You recall the first time you saw her, that quiet girl in the front of the auditorium with four seats of clearance around her, and how you slowly watched her grow into the fine and confident woman she is now. Part of you is unbelievably proud of what she’s achieved, but another part of you knows it’s all her doing and you were only along for the ride.
You reach Nana’s room just as her roommate was leaving, and you exchange pleasantries with her before she goes off. “Hey, just so you know, Nayeon’s a really nice girl,” she says in whispers to you, “I’m glad she found you before she left.” She pats you on the back before going off to the stairs herself. Something deep inside you glows in agreement, and you think to yourself how lucky you were to be able to meet and spend time with a person like her.
“Hey, come in!” Nana pushes you into her now half-empty room. “Yuri just left, so we have the place all to ourselves!” You take a seat on her easy chair while she plops herself down onto her bed. The half that still has stuff in it is simple and unassuming, and the realization dawns on you that this is the first time you’ve been in Nana’s room. Despite this, the space is warm and cozy, like it was filled with a good sort of energy for a long time.
“Cheers” you both say at the same time, each with a can of beer that you both drink fairly quickly. You recall the first time of her drinking with you, how easily she felt her stomach hurting but this time she quickly shrugs off the bitter taste.
“You know,” Nana says, her eyes shining and her smile flashing itself directly at you, “I am really happy that you helped me with the bucket list, I couldn't do it without you.”
You simply laugh casually and say “Come on Nana, all you needed was confidence.”
“And who do you think gave me that confidence? I really mean it…thank you,” she says, and you can't help but smile at her back.
“Let me get some snacks, okay? Don’t move a muscle.” As she stands and heads toward the kitchen, you go to check up your phone to see what the time is. However, just as you are about to go into your Instagram, you notice something on the table: a little black notebook that’s only all too familiar.
When you think about it, She has never shown you the actual list besides that one time when you two first talked. “A peek won't hurt right?” you say, the alcohol definitely makes the choice for you. Your sober self would never invade someone's privacy, especially not some as close as Nana’s, but regardless, you open it and…
You flip through the pages, and the notebook reveals so much more. The few pages you’ve been shown were just decorated pages, and each mission was a chapter, filled with dozens of writings, pictures, scribbles, each for its own topic. You find yourself smiling, muttering quietly to yourself: “You really worked hard on it… didn't you?”
Your attention is snatched to Nana across the room, looking at you with cheeks fully red. You can't help but curse quietly, and you try to come up with something of an apology. However before you can finish your first word she says…
“Hey, come on, put that down!” Nana rushes toward you, nearly tossing the snacks off to some random part of the room, and snatches away the little black notebook from your hands. She hugs it close to her chest as she turns away, and she looks over her shoulder to peek if you might still be thinking about snatching the notebook back.
Instead, you raise your hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. Sorry. But what's there to hide? Aren't we done?” You take another sip of your drink before picking up one of the snacks. You open the bag of chips and place it on the table for the both of you.
“Well… I had one other thing. I gave up on it a long time ago, just never ripped out the page.” Nana turns back toward you and fiddles with a leaf of the notebook. Her steps are careful when she gets nearer to you, as if cautious to scare you away.
“What?!” You bolt to your feet in surprise, your drunkenness taking a backseat at the sudden exposition. “Shit, we gotta go now! What is it?”
“Calm down,” Nana mutters, her feet rubbing against the carpet, “it isn't something we can do anywhere else anyway. Or, I mean, it’s done? I don’t know…”
Your nerves are still flaring, but you get the feeling that whatever it is, there's nowhere else but where you are now that Nana could do the last bucket list thing. Your gaze steadies on her, and she looks like she wouldn't budge for the world. Her eyes never leave the floor, her hands stay guarded on the notebook, and for some reason, she's also able to keep you just where you are.
“So… what is it, then?”
“Promise me you won't get mad?”
“... Promise.”
Once she hears you say it, her eyes shut tight. As if gathering courage, she takes a deep breath before taking deliberate steps to where you're standing. You never see it coming, but the next thing you know, Nana's soft lips are on yours, her delicate fingers keep you steady in place, and her vanilla scent fills your nose and overwhelms your senses that you can't think of anything at all but her.
It takes only half a second, but you melt into the kiss yourself. Your eyes flutter closed and start to forget the world around you in favor of the girl who stayed by your side. The space between the two of you grows smaller, your hands make their way to her waist, and you let your selfishness take over and keep her for yourself as well.
The kiss breaks just as you hold her, and both your eyes shoot open to find hers just as wide as yours.
“I-I, umm… I’m sorry, it was too sudden, and uhh…” It wasn't too hard to see how much she was stuttering, and if you weren't so surprised yourself you would've also joined her like the blushing mess she is right now.
The alcohol was starting to hit you again, and your better judgment slowly left you as you took her lips once more. You have no time to be surprised at how willing she is, and you resolve to just enjoy the kiss with her. You lead her to the edge of the bed and sit her down; and the first chance she gets, she lies back onto the mattress and pulls you with her.
“If you really wanna know…” She flips to the last page of the notebook and shows you. It’s a simple picture, just two stick figures in a heart, holding hands. You don’t recognize the poster, but the quote is unmistakable: “You should be kissed, and often, by someone who knows how.”
“I’m glad we got to spend all this time together, and I know I keep thanking you, but I really am so happy…” Nana pulls you back in, and with your own sweet defiance, you trace kisses across her cheek and onto her neck. The whimpers that escape her are adorable, but at the same time they also confirm thoughts you’ve only ever tried to suppress: she likes you too.
You go lower and lower, tracing kisses from her neck to nibbling her collarbone, and you settle right before you reach her chest. Her breath hitches when she figures out what you want to do, but ultimately her fingers rake comfortingly through your hair.
“So tonight… let me show you… let me thank you… properly.” Her eyes may look pure when she says those words, but with how you are inches away from her lips, with how you have been kissing her now, it's anything but.
She slowly pulls off her jacket, her eyes never leaving you. The fabric slides off of her arms, revealing the smooth skin of her slender arms. The next to go is her tank top; her fingers grip the hem lightly, tugging slowly upwards, showing you her toned tummy and milky skin. The hem rises higher and higher, until she stops right under her chest.
“Are you sure?” Your question is breathless, not in the slightest bit annoyed, but your tone full of concern reaches her. “You don’t have to do this for me.”
“I know,” she says, the sound of her voice betraying a dry throat, “I love you.” She pulls the rest of her top off, and her boobs bounce freely in front of you. Nana takes your hands and places them on each, and asks you playfully, “Come on, you think I never caught you staring?”
She pulls you back in for a kiss, a proper one this time, the kind that quenches your thirst for her. She tries her best to wrap her tongue around yours, all the while you take your fill of her soft tits. Pinch and tweak her nipples, feel them stiffen as her tiny whimpers grow into careless moans. You never let up, delivering constant pleasure to her chest, and your surprise when you feel her palming your growing bulge is quickly replaced with anticipation.
Her hand slips under your waistband and her moan fills your mouth when she feels how hot and hard your cock is for her. She wraps her fingers around your shaft and gives long, slow strokes, nothing that would make you cum on the spot, but just about enough to make you leak precum onto her palm. She relishes the feeling of your arousal on her skin, and as she picks up her pace, seemingly trying to entice you to do more, you’re left with no choice but to give her exactly what she wants.
You work on unzipping your jeans and taking them off, and with Nana’s help, it feels like the second easiest job in the world. They fall to your ankles and you kick them away, and all of a sudden your cock rests on the skin of her luscious thigh. The heat and the precum that leaks onto her flesh surprises her, but her senses come back to her and she asks for a time out.
“Gimme a sec, I have to breathe,” she gasps unsteadily. You get off her, wondering what you might have done wrong. Her breathing is ragged and she seems to not be able to focus on much else, but a reassuring look in her eyes lets you know she’s alright.
“I just– I needed to see it.” Her gaze falls on your cock, and once she reaches and wraps her fingers around your shaft again, it throbs in her hand. A groan of pleasure escapes you, and she figures out that she’s doing something right. Her pumps start slow, gradually building up speed, all the while she brings her face closer and closer, and you don’t even notice it, but finally her lips meet the tip of your dick. Nana rubs your precum all over her lips like lipstick, and she takes your head in her mouth.
Small groans come from your mouth feeling her soft lips, you enjoy much more than you thought, especially knowing how inexperienced you thought she was. Your hands meanwhile grab a part of hair, pulling it lightly, causing Nana to moan into your cock.
“Don't get mad if I do this wrong–” she says, her eyes fraught with worry. Despite this, she makes careful moves to give you the best possible experience. She seals her lips around your head, and she gives slow but deep sucks as she tries her hardest.
“You’re– nngh– doing great,” you moan, the pleasure overtaking you. The eye contact you two share is enchanting; she’s undoubtedly a very pretty girl, and despite the amateur blowjob, she more than makes up for it with her enthusiasm. Her head bobs slightly, trying to take more of your length in, but her worry of choking keeps her from giving any more.
On the other hand, she has no idea of the effect she has on you, and the sight of the gorgeous woman’s plump lips on your cock coupled with her eager attempts at making you feel good nearly sends you over the edge early. In an effort to stave off your orgasm for even just a little while longer, you regrettably pull her off of you.
“What– what’s wrong? Wasn’t it good?” Again her words are coated with worry of disappointing you, but the way you look tenderly to her reassures her.
“You are perfect, Nana,” you whisper into her ear. You lay her back onto the bed gently, and you let show your eagerness to please her too. You venture down until you’re level with her crotch, and you work slowly to peel off her thin shorts. As they leave her legs, you’re presented with a pastel blue pair of panties, though you can’t help but notice the growing wet spot right in the center and the scent of her arousal seeping through. It must be uncomfy, you think, and you strip it off of her as well.
The garment leaves her and you look to Nana for approval: her finger between her teeth and her face red as a tomato, she looks at you with a loving gaze. Only then do you realize that Nana is now fully naked, everything bare for you and you alone, and the way her thighs rub together needily sends the message you’ve been dying to get.
Part her legs, meeting little resistance as you do. Travel up from her knees to her thighs, planting kisses and light nibbles on the soft flesh of her legs. Hearing how she whimpers beneath your lips: “That feels really good… I want more…”
Your lips finally meet her pussy, and the initial contact draws out a sultry moan from her. Each swipe of your tongue on her cunt causes more and more of her love juices to leak out, sending waves of ecstasy up her spine. She tries locking your head in place as she runs her fingers through your hair, all the while she grinds her crotch on your face as she chases her pleasure.
“Yes, yes, yes! Fuck, you feel so good! I love you~!” Nana humps your face more and more roughly, and you take it as a sign that she’s close. Good thing as well, as you’re running out of air, but on the other hand you feel as though this wouldn't be the worst way to go. You run your tongue over her soaked pussy, taking slow, deep licks.
She’s inching closer to her orgasm, her hips are bucking onto your mouth, your tongue meets her clit, she squeezes your head between her thighs, your lips seal around her swollen nub, she grabs your hair and pulls hard, and with a scream ripping through her throat, Nana squirts her love juices straight into your waiting mouth as you drink her essence up. Her scream turns into a drawn-out moan as she continues to grind on your face, making sure to pleasure herself enough to give you everything you’ve been working so hard for, and you lap every single drop of it up like it was the sweetest thing you’ve ever tasted.
She releases her grip on your hair and head, and as she relaxes onto the bed her arms fall to the sides and her legs spread open. She lazily brings a hand to her pussy and rubs it, showing you just how good you made her feel, and she smiles up at you.
“That was fucking amazing.” It couldn’t have sounded any sweeter, and the fact that it came from Nana, lying on her bed wearing nothing but a smile that you gave her, fills you with a sort of pride that you doubt you’d ever get again anywhere else in your life. But as she starts to get up, and she places her lips on yours, you feel another weight lifted off your chest. It’s another shade of her, one that shows you how she is when she’s content. It’s her way of telling you that among the hundreds of firsts she’s had in her life, she’s grateful that you were this one too. And as you kiss back, your hands finding their way to her hips, you connect with her again on a level that you never put into words before. “I love you too, Nana.”
Upon hearing, her kiss deepens and her tongue works harder to play with yours. She leans on you more, until finally you let yourself fall backwards, and Nana is right there, straddling you, with an innocent yet horny look in her eyes again.
“Your turn. Relax, okay?” She caresses your cheek, and suddenly you’re made conscious of how bad you’re probably blushing right now. Despite this, her smile never leaves her face as she continues to reassure you. She giggles at whatever expression it is that you’re showing her, and she gets to work.
Nana reaches to her bedside table and opens a drawer, and from it she produces a peculiar box. “Remember when I ‘stole’ that candy bar?” She tears off the sticker on the edge of the box to open it, pulls out a little plastic square pouch, and tears it open with her teeth. “I… bought… the candy bar. This was what I stole.” She tugs on the contents of the pouch, and reveals a condom.
“What the–” you start, but you soon stop in favor of moans caused by Nana’s handjob. “Don’t ever belittle me like that again, okay?” Her smile is again just as sweet and innocent as the first time you saw it, but now is completely different. It never leaves her face as she pulls the rubber over your cock, but not before giving it a few more cursory licks.
“Ready?” she asks, and you nod furiously. Finally, she aims the tip of your cock at her entrance and slowly sinks down onto you. “Oh, fuck, it’s so big,” she gasps. She takes her time taking in your length, feeling every vein against her pussy walls as you enter her tight pussy. She sucks air in through her teeth, her eyes shut tight, her fingernails leaving imprints on your chest as more and more of you slides into her unbelievably tight cunt. As she does, you feel her wet velvet walls rub your cock inside her, her slick spreading all over you and coating you with a warm you can’t describe. After what seemed like an eternity of bliss, she finally hilts, having taken everything inside her, and she sits on your crotch without moving, still trying to get used to the feeling of her pussy being so full.
“You good?” you ask, genuinely concerned if she’s okay or not. Place a hand on her waist, pat to comfort her. Her eyes open slowly, almost releasing a tear, and panic rises in your chest.
“Shit, shit, I’m sorry, do you need to get off? I–” you start, but she shuts you up with another kiss. It’s slow and gentle as it starts, just simple pecks, as she reassures you once again that she’s alright. Once she pulls away, she flashes you another smile, and you swear she gets more and more beautiful with each and every one.
“I’m okay. Are you okay?” She traces circles on your cheek and neck, and all you could do is nod. She comes back in for another kiss, and this time it’s much deeper. She opens her mouth to moan, and you jump at the opportunity to swipe at her tongue too. She loves it, and once she’s comfy enough, she starts to hump against you as well.
“It’s really really good. Do you feel good?” Her question snaps you out of your daze, but you only nod as you fight off cumming too early. Not long after that, you note she’s had her fill as she pulls away from you. Her posture straightens and she sits on you properly again, this time determined to return the favor and blow your mind. She takes in a deep breath, braces herself, and lifts herself up carefully. Your breath hitches, watching her naked figure on top of you, and you admire the way her sweat collects in drops before they slide down between her breasts. She notices you staring again, and she brings your hands up to her chest, moaning at the first moment of contact. Your instincts overtake you; you push yourself off the bed to her boobs and start to suck. Your lips seal around her nipples and she runs her fingers through your hair as she tries to push you deeper into her delicious breast.
“Shit, don’t stop,” Nana pleads, and you continue kneading the flesh of her boobs more, sucking when and where you can. At that moment, she forces herself back down onto your dick, taking in everything again all at once. Her walls part suddenly, and once she settles her warm pussy walls squeeze your cock as tight as she can. She begins bouncing, her moans never stopping, and you find a rhythm: each time Nana brings herself down, you thrust up to meet her halfway. The first time you do, you reach a depth to her that neither of you thought was possible, and the heat from her sex with her slick drive the pair of you insane with pleasure.
She keeps bouncing on your cock as her lewd moans gradually grow louder and louder with each of your thrusts into her needy core. Her eyes roll to the back of her head, her pussy tightens again, and just as you deliver a perfectly-timed bite to her nipple, another scream rakes out of her throat as her second orgasm overtakes her. Her pussy convulses as her hips buck again and again on your cock, her thighs and tits jiggle seductively, and her tightness reaches new heights as if she wants to keep your cock inside her forever. Despite this, you never stop thrusting her, never stop making love to her, and you cover her chest in kisses while you lick up all her sweat.
You never give her a chance to catch her breath, and soon enough, an unknowable number of seconds or minutes past, you feel your own orgasm coming. You take one last look at her godly figure and divine visuals, and you finally succumb.
Hold her close, hold her tight. She’s made it clear that she doesn’t want you getting away, so you only return the desire. Keep thrusting into her, forget about how she’s losing her mind. She’s gone, lost in her own pleasure, and there’s no point in bringing her back yourself. Instead, follow her. Send yourself over the edge and join her in her ecstasy.
You momentarily lose your flow of consciousness as flashes of white fill your eyes, but you’re snapped back to reality with Nana pulling at your hair. Only then do you realize; you’re actually cumming inside her. With each spurt, you thrust into her as your cock twitches against her slick walls. The cumulative heat from your cum sends just the right signals to Nana’s body, and it sends back the equivalent of screams of desperation at the illusion of breeding. Your pumps are harsh and careless – thank the stars you’re wearing a condom – but Nana is too far lost to care past the unholy pleasure you deliver to her.
“Fuck, fuck! Aaaahhh!!!!” You feel her tighter, as if clamping down on your cock, her cunt pulsating and the connection between the two of you growing wetter, slicker. Despite this, you never let up, hell-bent on giving her everything you have. One spurt turns into two, then four, then six. It didn’t matter, none of it did. It could have been the end of the world and you wouldn’t have minded. All that was important was the girl sitting on your lap, losing her mind.
As both of your orgasms die down, the pair of you fall to the mattress. You stare at each other, wide-eyed and out of breath, and all you can do is smile and giggle at each other. As each of you catch your breath, the world quiets down, and all that’s left in existence is just you and Nana.
“Wow,” she sighs, “nice.” Her smile grows wide again, and her hand once more finds your cheek to caress.
“Yeah, nice.” You laugh back at her, the adrenaline fading quickly. “Does that check the thing off your list?”
“Oh, yeah!” Nana jolts up and off the bed, or at least attempts to. Instead, she falls back next to you, and only then do you realize the fatigue rendering your bodies useless.
“So… we good?” There’s nowhere else to look but right to her. Nana’s beautiful, round, just a bit teary eyes gaze back at you with adoration and love, something you never thought you’d have for yourself in this magnitude. And yet, here you are, and here she is, as if nothing else mattered.
“Shit. That was crazy. Anyway, yeah. Thanks.” With her last ounce of strength, she comes in for one more kiss. She collapses in your arms, cuddled right up to your chest, and you can imagine she could hear how loud your heart was thumping, just like hers.
Catch her snoring an adorable snore, wrap her in an embrace that would protect her from the worst the world could throw at her. A small thought in your head says you want to keep her safe forever like this, but you know better: she’s a strong woman who can take care of herself. Think back to how lucky you are, and how you walked this journey with her. Recall how she was just a fearful nobody when you first met, remember how you watched her grow into the amazing person she is now.
Your eyelids grow heavy, and you realize your waking seconds left are numbered. Right before you drift off to sleep yourself, you hear her, in the tiniest voice ever, mumbling her confession: “Stay with me.”
“Go to sleep, Nana.” You smile and turn your head toward hers, arms wrapped around her waist.
“Not without a promise.” Her own eyes are half-lidded, and you can tell she’s fighting back her drowsiness as hard as she can. She tries blinking the sleep away, but it only works marginally.
You could say anything to her at all right now, anything in the world, but there’s really only two things that need to be put into words. Your mind rushes at a snail’s pace, and you reach for faraway ideas when the right one is just in front of you. In your mind only one question appears: “So is this like…a one time thing?”
In response Nana just leans in and kisses your cheek, then giggles. “Would me saying ‘I love you’ outside of sex prove it?” she asks playfully, her tone betraying her desire for rest.
“Touché.” One hand goes to her soft blonde hair, brushing it to the side. “But in my defence, suddenly kissing me and then getting me naked was not the first thing I expected when you said there was ‘one last thing’ in your bucket list,” you state matter-of-factly.
You share a bout of tired laughter for a moment, and then you both look at each other with pure eyes, as if you two compete to see who can make the other blush first. Decidedly, Nana loses while she confesses. “I used to think that college was supposed to be all rose-colored, that it was to be the peak of my life. But spending it with you, I learned that it doesn’t have to be all grand milestones to live through.” The air in the room swirls differently, replacing stale breaths with new ones from the open window.
“That time you cheered me on during the open mic, how you looked at me… It made me realise that after everything’s said and done, I wanted peace. And I can feel peace with you, without all the guilt of past mistakes, nor ghosts of regret that would’ve haunted me for the rest of my life,” she says, now leaning toward your ear muttering, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you whisper back, smiling from ear to ear. Eventually you both released the hug. Look around her room for your clothes, which was surprisingly hard for how your sex wasn't too feral, and in turns take showers to clean yourselves up.
As you get out of the shower, fully cleaned and with some good-enough-for-sleep clothes, you find Nana on her bed fully knocked out. You simply laugh and join her, and her instinct leads her to wrap her arms around your waist while her head leans into your chest.
“Goodnight, Nana,” you whisper with finality, as if ending the night on a perfect note. Peck her forehead and close your own eyes, and fall into slumber just as deep as hers.
Bucket List Completed
“Argh, I’m so excited!” She grips you by your collar and shakes you as she screams, jolting away any sleep you wished to get.
Two months have come and gone, and while you know it hasn’t been long, things have changed so much. Despite you trying to get just a bit more sleep in the backseat of the taxi, Nana right next to you can’t stop bouncing in hers as the sights outside the window pass her by.
“Okay, okay. Just get all this energy out before we get on the plane, please?”
She returns her attention to the window just as the taxi slows to a halt. Your new girlfriend practically throws open the door and leaps out, heading straight for the trunk to retrieve your luggage.
“Hurry up! We might miss our flight!” She struggles lifting her comically large suitcase before you hear it hits the concrete pavement followed by its handle extending with its clack-clack-clack.
“Hawaii isn’t going anywhere, Nana, please,” you mutter as you lazily exit the cab. You hand the driver your fare, and he reaches out to accept. As he does, he gives you a knowing smirk and tips his hat to you, as if saying “good luck.”
Turning around, you find Nana with all of your luggage too, eagerly awaiting your arm for her to cling to before you make your way inside. The hustle and bustle of Incheon International Airport fills her with a deep sense of excitement, and honestly, who could blame her? Your girlfriend is in the midst of all these other people — travelers, tourists, adventurers — and she fits right in. It’s the most natural thing for her now, to find herself in new situations that broaden her horizons and make her feel alive.
She yanks you to her side in line for the desk, holding her brand-new polaroid camera at a high angle. “Cheese!” she screams, not far enough from your ear, but with how happy she is, you can’t help but smile her smile too. “Our first overseas trip! This is the first time I’m leaving Seoul, let alone Korea!”
“Okay, Nana, calm down,” you chuckle, but you know she won’t. Divert her attention instead, put her energy to good use. “Do you have your passport? Carry on? Pink notebook?”
Though you both are sure she hasn’t missed anything, Nana rummages through her bag again anyway. “Check, check, and check! How could I forget?” She takes each item to show to you, and she flips through the pink notebook once it’s in her hand.
One thing about Nana, she never lets the moment escape her anymore. Once she sets out to do something, she’ll do everything in her power to accomplish that goal. This is no different, and you love her so much for it.
After looking through the notebook, she claps it shut. She flashes you the drawing of a gray bucket on its front cover before it disappears back into her carry on, and you both are reminded that a part of who you are as a couple is just that: a notebook that predicts the future by rooting itself in the present. Sadly, a weeklong trip won’t be enough for everything on her list this time, but who’s to say you’re not coming back eventually?
And at the end of the trip, you have it ready, the best gift you could give her: a little green notebook, every left-side page filled with things you want to do, and the corresponding right side page blank, all for her. And on the very last leaf, where the cardboard of the back cover accompanies it, is a drawing of a ring, with the words: “I’ll be taking my time, spending my life, falling deeper in love with you.”
“Come on, hurry!” She yanks again, snapping you out of your wistful thoughts. “We’re gonna miss the plane!” Nana pulls you to the gate just as the intercom announces your flight has begun boarding. “Alright, alright! Easy,” you chuckle again, and you can’t believe this is the same girl behind the gym crying her eyes out alone just last year. Funny how people change like that, but at the same time, it’s impossible to think that Nana would ever stay the same.
================================================
Thank you all for watching, it has been a long time working on it and we are really happy it is finally out, hope yall had a good read with this one,
i will see you all next time leafies~
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Hi! 🌙 anon here!! Don't worry it's totally okay I make mistakes like that all the time too :D
I don't remember what I said exactly but I remember I said something like a Yandere kidnaps a transmasc Y/n and teases his clit and gets him cock drunk. With like an aphrodisiac and constantly being needy for the Yandere type thing? Perhaps overstim and multiple orgasms? I'm sorry I forget (●//▽//●)
Also side note, I typed out this ask and accidentally deleted it instead of sending it too--so clearly this is an easy mistake to make!
Alrighty, love your blog and the masterpieces you write! And I know I didn't say this last time but your pfp is so cute I love it
Yan!Kidnapper [Cock-drunk Reader Scenario]
Yan!Kidnapper x GN! Reader
Content warning - Yandere themes, THIS IS SMUT, He’s your kidnapper so mentioned kidnapping, mean yan, spanking (once), slight choking (once), he loves your nipples, psycho yan, he’s just a jerk
A/N - thank you so much for resubmitting your ask 🌙 anon <3 As you said in your second ask, I don’t write for anything other than GN reader so I’ve just adjusted your ask to that xo. This Yan is actually a little sneak peak of a new oc I’ll be adding soon. This is also my first time writing full smut so sorry if it’s not the best 🙏
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“For fucks sake [Reader], you got to keep still baby.” Jasper grunted, rubbing his tip against your hole before pulling it away once more. His grin only grew when he heard a whine slip from your lips. “Such a little slut for me, yeah? Your hole is trying to suck me in.” He chuckled, leaning his head lower to tug on one of your nipples with his teeth.
Your lovely kidnapper of a few months had decided it was a good idea to buy that viral sex chocolate or whatever the fuck he had seen on TikTok. It obviously did the trick because you were currently panting and whining just from the feel of his cock near you. “Christ babe, if you keep moving I’m going to tie you up.” He hissed, bringing a hand down on your ass in hopes it’ll stop you from fucking moving.
He ran a hand through his hair, trying to hold himself back from just pounding you. Last time he did that, you bitched about it for so long. He blew some cold air on your nipple and laughed mockingly when you squirmed. “Do you want my cock? You want me to fuck you? Thought you said I was insane and shit?” He grinned, giving a rough tug to your already puffy nipples. “If you say please, I’ll give you what you want.”
He rubbed his cock head up and down your entrance at a teasingly slow pace. Up, down, up, down, up, down. You couldn’t take it anymore! When he finally heard that magic word tumble out of your mouth he eagerly slammed into you in one go, relishing in the sound you made. He grabbed onto your hips with a bruising grip and started to thrust, making sure to hit that special spot that made you scream.
“Fuck! You’re so tight! Such a pretty whore for me.” Jasper groaned, lifting your legs over his head. He pressed a kiss to your ankle before nipping at it with a smirk. “Might cum just from looking at your face. You’re making such cute faces at me babe.” He slid his hand up and gripped your throat, giving it a small squeeze before giving your nipple a sloppy kiss. “Keep squeezing me [Reader]. Fuck yeah, that’s it!” He grunted though his voice became slightly whiny as he picked up his pace.
“Gonna cum in your pretty hole, yeah? You like that?” He wiped some saliva from your chin before sticking two of his fingers in your mouth. He began to push them in and out at the same pace of his thrusts, eyes lighting up when your eyes rolled back into your head. “Look at you, going all dumb on my cock.” He cooed mockingly, moving his hands back down to your hips. “I’m about to cum so hold still, okay?” He murmured, pressing a loving kiss to your temple before thrusting quicker.
With a final moan, he came inside you. He was panting, eyes gone hazy before he snapped out of it and kissed your forehead. “You were so good for me, gonna clean you up now, don’t worry.” He hummed, pulling out and moving to the bathroom. While he ran a bath, he couldn’t stop the giddy smile from spreading across his face. Jasper finally fucking had you, you were his, fully. He wasn’t going to let you go, never, especially after you enjoyed having sex with him so much!
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Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated, requests are open <3
please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms without my permission.
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Secret relationship and they find out you're being transferred to a different team.
Anon...how DARE you. But really, the angst that this prompt is giving is everything. I want to warn readers now that I was not nice with this one. There is a lot of angst happening here. There is nothing spicy about it. It's all pain with a little comfort sprinkled in for a few of our boys.
(Sorry not sorry)
These are presented in four individual double drabbles.
Content & Warnings: angst, mild emotional hurt/comfort, secret relationships, yearning, heartbreak, 141!reader
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
John "Soap" MacTavish
“We’ve got two weeks!”
“Soap.”
“Can you believe that?”
“Johnny.”
Soap’s smile remains but melts slightly. “What?”
“I’m leaving.”
He chuckles. “We both are.”
You shake your head. “No. I’m leaving the team.”
Soap frowns slightly. “Retirement?” He shrugs. “Seem a bit young.” That smile returns and he saunters forward, his large hands grasping your hips. “Means we can go public.”
He leans in for a kiss, but your heart isn’t in it. Soap realizes the reluctance the moment your lips meet. “It’s something else,” he says.
You nod because that is all you can manage. Originally, Captain Price said he wanted to tell the team together, but he doesn’t know about you and Johnny. Soap needs to know first before the rest. If not, it’ll come as a blow and a betrayal. You can’t do that to him no matter what Captain Price says.
“I’m being transferred,” you murmur, voice breaking slightly.
Soap does not retreat. He rests his forehead against your own, eyes closing as he inhales. His arms slide from your hips to your back, drawing you against him.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper.
“We’ll figure it out,” he says rubbing your back. “We’ll figure it out together.”
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
Kyle enters the meeting room. It’s the last one before everyone breaks for a month.
But there is someone missing.
Laswell and Captain Price talk quietly, their heads bent in conversation. Soap is showing something to Ghost on his phone.
You are not among them. You are not in your usual spot.
Laswell glances up and Price clears his throat. “We can start.”
“Hold up, Captain. We’re missing one.”
Kyle gestures toward the chair you usually sit in and Price frowns.
“Transferred on another mission,” interrupts Laswell.
Kyle says nothing, sinking into his chair. He listens but most of it slips right out of his head. The only thing he can think about is that you’re not here and you didn’t say anything.
When Laswell and Price are finished, and everyone begins to exit, Kyle lingers, intent on talking to Price.
“Not gonna talk about our missing team member?”
“Nothing to say,” shrugs Price. “Transferred this morning.”
Kyle swallows down the emotion rising in his throat. No one knows about the two of you, and if he pushes too much, he might reveal something he shouldn’t.
“Coming back?” asks Kyle.
“Eventually,” answers Price. “Not sure when.”
Eventually. There’s hope then.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
“You’re leaving.”
“Simon.”
“Did you plan on telling me?” You remain silent and Simon shakes his head. “Waiting for Price to do it?”
“That’s not true.”
Simon takes a step forward, entering your space. “I saw the transfer on his desk. I saw the date. How long have you known?”
“Does that matter?” you ask.
“Of course it does,” he snaps.
Simon is never angry, not with you. His anger is subtle which makes it more terrifying. This is something else. Simon is hurt, and you’re the cause of it.
“I’m sorry you found out like this. I planned on telling you.”
“When?” He’s closer now, towering over you.
“When I had more information.”
“More information?”
“I don’t know where I’m going or with who,” you add.
“Might not tell you until you get there. Happens all the time.”
You understand his meaning and know that Simon is right. Would you have left without telling him anything, only saying something once you’d left?
No. This thing between you might be tangled but he is the only one you want.
“Are you upset?” you ask.
Simon deflates. “Not with you.” He tugs you against him, creating a cocoon of warmth. “Never.”
John Price
The transfer papers mockingly stare at Price.
All this time, he believed he could have you without repercussion. Didn’t matter that you were another member of the team and his subordinate. You were his, and Price could protect you.
But these papers came from someone above him, and he cannot refuse them. No matter how much he wants to.
And no one knows what the two of you do when there isn’t anyone looking. But now, that’s shattered. Broken. And Price must grieve for your departure in silence. Price has already raged. He punched the wall until his knuckles bled.
After that, he walked until he came to terms with it.
You don’t know yet. You have no idea. Telling you will be the hardest part. What will happen? How will the two of you move forward? Can the secrets remain, or will it all need to be out in the open?
Price sighs and runs his hands over his face.
This is a punishment. Must be. Why else is it happening?
There is a loud knock at the door. Again, Price sighs, knowing that he has to face the reality of the situation.
You are on the other side.
taglist:
@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving
@childofyuggoth @miaraei @coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666
@unhinged-reader-36 @pearljamislife @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath
@enfppuff @berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu
@thewulf @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos
@enarien @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project
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@tulipsun-flower @ghosts-hoe @jaggersinclair @nomercyforthewarrior @dakotakazansky
@hantheconqueror @sapphichotmess
#task force 141#task force 141 imagine#task force 141 x reader#task force 141 fanfiction#task force 141 fanfic#task force 141 fic#task force 141 x female reader#task force 141 x you#task force reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley cod#simon riley#simon riley fanfiction#simon riley imagine#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley#ghost mw2#ghost call of duty#ghost cod#ghost x you#ghost x reader#john price imagine#captain john price x reader#john price x reader#john price cod#soap call of duty#soap cod#soap mw2#soap mactavish fanfic#gaz imagine
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The Change.
Astarion x F!Tav
Inspiration: What if Cazador got hold of Tav (Astarion's lover) first?
"My, my, it seems my most favoured spawn has been busy…"
Roughly 4,450 words. (I know its long, I couldn't stop)
Triggers: Cazador, abuse (as minimal as possible only there for the plot to do with the jerk), non consensual bite, blood, kidnapping, adult language, death, Fluff, angst(?), intimacy (near the end), PiV, CONSENSUAL blood drinking, finger stuff. If I have missed anything let me know.
18+ Minors DNI - Mild disclaimer I am not a great writer, but great at day dreaming, so I hope it all makes sense and you can enjoy my current day dream:
Summary:
You have leased the top floor of the Elfsong Tavern, and it is the first night of your stay. Retiring to your bed for the evening after a long day of chasing leads to find the murderer causing chaos around Baldur’s Gate, you and your companions are woken up during the night surrounded by Cazador’s Spawns attempting to retrieve Astarion. In that moment, you decide to do everything in your power to keep him safe, even if it means sacrificing yourself to buy him time. What comes next is something you could have never foreseen.
Tav:
“Just our luck, right? All we wanted was a place to stay, and lo and behold, we find the single inn that has had a murder take place in it. And, of course, we start investigating it straight away," Astarion says, practically steaming with annoyance as he helps you remove your boots. You watch him attentively. You love the way his lip curls and his nose scrunches when he is particularly annoyed at something. He looks up at you through his lashes, his crimson eyes looking confused as to why he’s caught you staring at him with a very goofy smile plastered upon your face.
"What?" he says, raising an eyebrow.
"Nothing, I just think you’re adorable when you get annoyed," you say as you lean down and kiss his forehead softly.
"Adorable? Adorable?? Excuse me, but I am exactly the kind of person your parents warn you about when they tell you not to explore at nighttime. Thank you very much." His expression is mischievous and playful as he rises, pinning you to the bed.
"Can the two of you PLEASE just behave for ONE night?? You’ll have your private quarters from tomorrow, so behave for the sake of all of us. Please," Gale says exasperated, pinching the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb.
You and Astarion share a knowing look and burst into laughter as he loosens his grip on you. Your companions have graciously offered you the private room after the cleanup of the murder scene and changing of bedsheets takes place. They deserve some respite after enduring the sounds from your tent throughout this journey. Despite taking a break from your intimate explorations, you and Astarion find yourselves acting like infatuated teenagers, constantly joking and teasing each other. It must be exhausting for others to be around your lighthearted antics all the time.
Yenna, the child you found on your journey, has a remarkable talent for creating various soups, and you are delighted to see that she has taken the initiative to prepare dinner for you and your companions tonight. After savouring the soup and engaging in lighthearted banter, everyone retires to their assigned beds. Surprisingly, Astarion decides to join you in the small bed, refusing to sleep separately even for just one evening. After making sure the others had fallen asleep you silently offer him your neck for his nightly feed before bed.
It doesn’t take long for sleep to find you, nor does it take long for your rest to be interrupted.
“Get the hells away from me!” Astarion’s voice is angry but panicked. You shoot upright and immediately see two other vampire spawns circling him. One female and one male.
“Peace brother, we are here to take you home.” The female speaks calmly
The male continues; “The Master needs all seven of us for the ceremony. Come with us and be reborn. We’ll live again.”
“Oh, I’m well aware of what the Master needs. But don’t we deserve better? After all these centuries of torment, I know what you all want, more than power, more than to walk in the sun. You want to see him dead. The right of profane ascension will be mine and he won’t see a scrap of its glory. I am going to complete the ritual as the ascendant and then I AM GOING TO KILL HIM. This is your chance, stand with me, name me your new master, we will get our revenge and you will all live again.” Astarion is confident, you know he is lying to them, you steal a glance his way with hurt in your eyes. Does he wish to be the ascendant this much?
Before you can stop yourself you turn to your lover and plead “Have you no heart Astarion? You’re asking them to die for you in this ritual”
“Don’t look at me like that, with the sweet little disappointed ‘I’m not getting cuddly Astarion’ pout. I can’t take it, I can’t be what you want to see in me.” His eyes lock with yours and you see a glimpse of it. Fear. The fear of never being safe and the desperation that this is his only chance of never having to be afraid again.
“You’re lying! Quick grab him!” The female one yells as two other spawns blink into the room joining them.
The rest of your camp is now awake and begins to spring into action. It’s not long before the first drop of blood is spilled, as Karlach lunges toward one of the spawn, slicing an opening clear across their chest, they topple back and disappear before the killing blow lands. You break into a sprint to the other side of the room as poor Yenna is being picked up by one of them. Luckily Gale shoots a firebolt cantrip their way and they release their hold on the child.
Suddenly out of the corner of your eye, you see the two spawn from earlier still circling Astarion and your world slows down. The male leaps forward with his hand outstretched, you know it’s to take Astarion and he knows it too. His eyes lock with yours practically seeping with fear and you scream an incantation of misty step placing yourself between them just in time, knocking Astarion back. The hand grabs you and you are transported in a cloud of red ash out of the Elfsong Tavern and land in a dark, cold cell.
Gazing at the floor you see a pair of expensive loafers appear in front of you, slowly you raise your head. Standing before you is what seems to be an elf at first glance well dressed with blood-red eyes, pale skin and long black hair slicked back out of his face. Your gaze darts around the room as you see the spawns all kneeling around him.
“Cazador.” You spit out the word, your face repulsed as if the name itself tasted vile on your tongue.
He leans down and takes your chin in his hand, moving your face towards the left, exposing your neck and the two puncture wounds that are still fresh from the evenings’ feedings.
"My, my, it seems my most favoured spawn has been busy…" He says amusement dancing in his eyes. “My spawn may not have brought him back but you… I have big plans for you. You pretty little thing.”
___________
Astarion:
You look across the room, searching for her. You know you are about to be taken, so you need to have one last look at her. You find her, and your eyes lock together. She knows it too; you can see it all over her face. Then the unthinkable happens.
You hear her scream the incantation. You see her appear in front of you as she knocks you back. Before you could blink, before you could get up, she was gone. They’ve taken her. And your world comes crashing down.
“TAV! NO. NO. No no no no no. This is NOT happening.” You are frantic, you cannot control the fear that has taken over. Your body shakes your breathing becomes shallow, your mouth dry. “We need to go. NOW. We need to get her.” Your companions are all standing there in shock as they watch you crumble. Karlach walks up to you gripping your shoulders and gives you a few shakes.
“Astarion, calm down. This is not going to help get her back. You need to breathe," Karlach pulls you in, squeezing you until you listen to her words. She's right, Tav needs you to be strong. She needs you to collect yourself. You need a plan, but it needs to be a good plan. You cannot afford to make one wrong step.
“We need to make a plan. I don’t know where he will be holding her, get me some paper, ink and a quill. I will draw out the layout of the palace and we will discuss options. Shadowheart, make sure we are stocked on healing potions and count the Revivify scrolls. Gale you need to learn the daylight spell, it is imperative, I know Shadowheart knows this spell but we cannot afford for only one person to know this. Karlach, gather the soul coins. We have to utilise everything we have.” You try to sound confident but the quiver in your voice betrays you. Everyone glances around briefly before attending to their allocated tasks.
I am coming for you, little love. Be strong for me just for tonight, I will not let him have you. You make a silent promise to her, to yourself.
__________
Tav:
“Fuck you.” Your words are laced with venom as you spit on his shoes. His hand comes soaring down across your other cheek and a familiar metallic taste settles in your mouth.
“Did Astarion not teach you what happens to those who do not obey me? Did he not tell you that mercy is not a word that lives in my vocabulary?” He lifts you by your neck and you feel your feet dangle off the floor.
Between your gasps for air, your voice is cold. “Get his name… out… of your… dirty… fucking mouth.” You spit what’s left of the blood and saliva in your mouth right on his disgusting face. A small improvement you think to yourself.
“I’ve had enough of this.” He hisses. “You will both learn. You see, I know my spawn better than they know themselves. He doesn’t love you! He is using you! You offer him protection, look how far you’ve pushed yourself just to protect him! And where is he? Do you hear him beating the door down? He knows where you are and yet, he’s not here.” Cazador spins around in a circle with arms spread open and a laugh escapes his mouth. “Stupid girl. You are but another number added to his list of fools.”
“You know nothing of him.” Your voice sounds so hoarse, so small. Astarion would never play you like this. You know him. The real him.
“Oh? I don’t? Why don’t we make a little wager then?” Amusement dances in his eyes. “Here is what is going to happen. I’m going to turn you into a spawn, just like him. I will return you to him once most of the change is complete and I can promise you my dear he will hate you the way he hates himself. Then when he realises that the game is done, he will hand himself over.” He places you down back on your feet, still gripping your neck tightly. Your body turns ice cold, your skin clammy as his crimson eyes bore into yours. He turns your head once again exposing your flesh. You feel a sharp excruciating pain pierce your neck, nothing like the ones you have shared with Astarion. It is at this moment you know that your time is up.
You feel yourself slipping away, tears spilling down your cheeks you close your eyes and hold your lover’s face in your mind, the face he makes after each kiss, the way his smile curls up when he’s being mischievous… how peaceful he looks when he rests next to you.
I love you Astarion. I am so sorry I couldn’t protect you, I failed you. The whisper in your mind dissipates as you can feel yourself leaving consciousness.
Something opens your mouth, you feel a single drop of warmth splash onto your tongue and everything goes black.
Your eyes snap open as you feel an intense burning sensation in your throat, you bring your hands up clutching at the base of your neck. You feel an immense pain and heaviness in your mouth, running your tongue over your teeth you feel something sharp scrape along the tastebuds. No. Your eyes dart around the cold cell and you spot a mirror in the corner. You rush towards it and raise it to your face only to find nothing. Nothing. No. No no no no. “No.” A small sob escapes your lips.
“There she is. Well my pet, you may just be my most beautiful spawn. Look at you… death becomes you, my dear.” Cazador is leaning against the wall outside the cell, a devilish smile runs across his face. “You are beautiful. If I am correct and he tosses you aside I may just keep you to myself. How does consort sound? Hmmm? No? Pity.” Words elude you, and a response will not come out from your mouth, not because of him, you still have the tadpole, but the words simply don’t form because you are in shock.
“Feed her a rat and then take her to him. He will surrender himself shortly after, I will win this little wager we have placed. I always do.” He turns to you again another smile spreading over his face “I’ll be seeing you again soon my dear, my most beautiful spawn.”
A smaller female spawn enters the cell, holds you down and pours a small helping of blood from a rodent down your throat. She then places her hand on your arm and once again you are teleported in a smoke of red ash back into the upper floor of the Elfsong tavern.
______________________
Astarion:
You look around the room, every single person in here is moving with purpose as fast as they can sorting out the final details, and gathering the supplies. Not one person has slept since her disappearance it has almost been a full 24 hours since she was taken but you promised yourself you would not wait a moment longer than that to finalise your plan. You knew he would use it as a trap to lure you to him and that’s exactly what you intended to do, just with reinforcements.
“ASTARION!” Shadowheart screams out to you from the doorway leading into the room. Your body is on full alert as you sprint towards her, she is on the floor holding something, no, someone. That’s when you see her, laying on the floor curled up, shaking and sobbing. You move quickly to her side and glance at Shadowheart, you see something in her eyes, sadness, rage and disbelief.
“What? Shadowheart. What? What is it?” You break your stare and glance down at your lover placing your hand under her chin. Something doesn’t feel right, gently you lift her to a seated position on the floor and as she turns to you you are met with crimson eyes.
“No.” You breathe out. “No… not you.” A crowd has gathered around you, their voices are muffled panicked noises in the background. You collect her in your arms and walk to your private quarters, close the doors and gently lay her down on the bed. She begins to sob uncontrollably as you scoop her up into your arms, crying with her. You have failed her and now she will never forgive you for not coming sooner.
“I’m… I’m so sorry Astarion. I… I couldn’t stop him. And now… now you won’t have me. He… he told me this would happen. He told me he would take me as his consort because once you saw me as a spawn you wouldn’t want me.” She sobs into your chest barely getting the words out. You stiffen after the confession is out. His consort? HIS? She had only been with him for 24 hours and he successfully derailed her mind, twisting her thoughts. You knew he was capable of this but still, it shook you to your core nonetheless. The way he gets into the minds of others and manipulates their thoughts. You are going to kill him, slowly and painfully for this. You swear it to yourself, to her.
“You will never be his.” Your words hiss out like venom. “You are mine. This changes nothing.” You bring her face up to yours looking deeply into her eyes as you plant a soft kiss on her lips, she lets out a small whimper that breaks you to pieces.
______________________
Tav:
"This changes nothing." Gods you want to believe him, you really do. It’s been two days now since you’ve been back, and you have mostly stayed in your private quarters lost deep in thought replaying the events from the palace. Astarion hasn’t left your side once, always holding you, placing soft kisses on your forehead and whispering soft “I love you’s” and apologies into your ear.
“Little love, look at me. Please… please.” His voice is soft and tender. You regain focus on the feel of his hand cupping your face, you only now notice it doesn’t feel cold anymore, instead it feels warm and soft.
“Your hand… it feels, warm. Why?” You whisper into his palm.
“Our bodies run at the same temperature, I will feel normal to you now.” He brings his face to yours and presses his forehead to yours inhaling deeply.
“Are you… sure… you still want me?” Your voice is small, unstable and your body shakes with anxiety while you wait for his response. You feel him tense slightly and then relax as he pulls away to look into your eyes.
“You once told me that being a spawn doesn’t define who I am. That Cazador may have turned me but I am still me inside. That he has no control of that.” He grazes his lips slowly across yours. “You are still who you are. You are still my world, my life. Your appearance may have changed slightly but it would have also changed as you aged and I would have grown to love those changes. I love you the same now, the only difference is that I get to love you forever instead of having to go through the pain of outliving you.” He kisses you deeply and you feel the love behind his kiss, you were a fool to ever doubt his love in the first place. You were right, you knew him better than Cazador.
“Astarion?” You ask quietly, “Does this mean I can no longer help you feed?” Your voice breaks a little bit near the end of your question. The act of him feeding on you has become something extremely special for you and it hurts to think that you may never get to do this for him ever again.
“You have been taken… Turned into a vampire spawn and your main concern is that you won’t be able to feed me?” His face lightens and a soft chuckle escapes his lips. “Darling, we need to talk about your priorities. But if you must know, we can still share this, the only significant difference is that you will now be able to feed off me. Should you wish to do so.”
“But, blood flow? How does that work?” You ask puzzled.
Astarion raises an eyebrow and a flash of mischief runs across his face. “Umm well my sweet, I’m sure you of all people will know that blood flow is still very much a thing for us. If you know what I mean.” You feel your cheeks flush as the realisation hits you.
“Oh. Right.” That is all you can say to that.
The light moment is replaced with heaviness once more as the two of you lay beside each other, scanning one another’s faces.
“I’m sorry Tav, I should have come straight away to save you. I thought… I thought we needed a plan, something solid to get in and get you out as fast as possible. I failed you and I am sorry…” He pauses for a moment and continues “Why did you do it? Why did you come between us when they tried to take me?” His voice was barely above a whisper now.
“I love you. That’s why and I would do it all over again if it meant I kept you out of his grasp.” You lift your hand and run it behind his head, lacing your fingers into his silky curls. He leans in moving his body closer and brings his lips to yours. It starts slow and tender, but the pace quickens with the realisation that this could have ended differently. His kisses become sloppy and urgent as his tongue enters your mouth. You suddenly taste something metallic and a growl escapes your mouth, a hunger springs to life within you and you push him away flinging yourself back off the bed.
“It’s okay my love. I can help, just, give me two minutes, stay there do not move. You’re hungry, you haven’t fed these past couple of days. I have a jar that I had kept for myself. I will be right back, I promise.” He quickly exits the room and re-enters not even 40 seconds later.
“Come here, drink this.” He sits you on the bed and hands the jar over. You open the lid and the smell hits your nose, your mouth starts to salivate as you bring it to your lips and take your first gulp. Your hunger instantly eases the moment you go for your third mouthful.
“Drink it all.” He says while he holds your hand. You listen and drink your fill and place the empty jar on the side table. “Do you feel better now?” He asks as he strokes your cheek.
“Much, thank you.” You offer a small smile to him.
“Good, because I believe we were interrupted. Where were we?” He asks as he slowly guides you back down onto the bed. His lips crashing into yours parting them instantly as he cautiously moves his tongue against yours. A soft grown escapes his lips, his hands roam up your body tangling up into your hair as he grinds against you.
“Astarion, stop - we don’t need to do this.” You say between kisses. “I told you we can wait when you’re ready.”
“Tonight my love I’m making an exception.” He says as he kisses you again his hands running down your frame and he lifts your shirt off with ease. He trails soft kisses up your torso over your bare breasts and pauses at your neck. You know he is looking at the fresh wounds.
“I’m going to kill him.” He hisses. “I’m going to kill him slowly. I will make him beg for mercy.”
“I want to be there when it happens.” You whisper. “Astarion? You can say no… but I don’t want his marks to be the last on me. Please… please replace them.”
“Darling, you need not ask. I was already thinking just that.” He slowly leans down and places a soft kiss on your neck before sinking his teeth in. His free hand slithers down your body, slips under your panties and starts running circles around your swollen bundle of nerves. You let out a soft moan and his paces quickens. The first wave of pleasure rolls through you fast and unforgiving as he releases his mouth from your neck placing another soft kiss onto the bite.
His gaze meets yours and a flicker of that mischief you love so much makes an appearance.
“Your turn now, little love. Replace my marks. Please.” He whispers his breath hot in your ear.
“…How? How do I do it?” You ask breathlessly.
“Listen to your body, go slowly and let… instinct guide you.” He rolls underneath you and turns his head to the side.
Slowly you mimic his previous movements, you think about all the times he’s fed on you and you focus on every single step. As you lower your mouth to his neck you plant a small soft kiss on the healed wounds, you open your mouth and slowly sink in. You feel a small amount of pressure on your fangs and then they sink deeper. The blood in the jar is nothing compared to his. You take slow, long pulls into your mouth, enjoying the way he moans and sighs in pleasure. You can feel him harden underneath you and you grind against his length. After two pulls you release him from your mouth and you hear a small moan of disappointment.
“My sweet, I was rather enjoying that, do it again.” He says while he removes his pants letting his length spring free. He then makes quick work of tearing off your underclothes and gently brings your head back down to his neck.
You sink back in but as you make your first pull he has moved underneath you making sure his hard length enters you, stretching you out deliciously. You growl against his neck as he starts thrusting upwards into your sex.
“Gods…” He breathes out as the thrusting quickens his hand finds your clit again and starts rubbing furious circles around the sensitive bud. You start to pull back but his other hand comes down holding you into place. “Drink.” He orders and you obey. “Fuck. Good girl. I’m.. I’m close.” His words send you into a frenzy as you match his thrusts with your grinding and it doesn’t take long before he cries your name as his hips start bucking in ecstasy.
“I love you. I will always, always love you.” He moans into your ear as you come crashing into another wave of pleasure. This time he allows you to let go of his neck and you fall beside him on the bed. The two of you slick with sweat while you hold each other.
“He really thought, that I wouldn’t love you anymore? Hasn’t he realised that he has unintentionally given me the greatest gift of being able to love you eternally.” He speaks the words into your hair while holding you close.
“Forever?” You whisper.
“Forever.” He says and places a kiss on your forehead. “But first, let’s go kill the bastard.”
#astarion#bg3#baldur's gate iii#baldur's gate 3#baldurs gate astarion#bg3 tav#tav#astarion ancunin#astarion x tav#astarion fanfiction#astarion fanfic#astarion fic#astarion x you#astarion smut#astarion x reader#astarion x tav fanfic#bg3 fanfiction#bg3 fic#bg3 fanfic#baldurs gate fanfiction#baldurs gate fic#baldurs gate brainrot#astarion brainrot
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Steve grabs the bag before Eddie can. “No, I’ve got it.”
Eddie glances at the transparency of the plastic bag: the outline of his battle vest pokes through it, neatly folded.
He sidesteps the rest of the group as they troop out of the RV. Steve’s still standing his ground by the driver’s seat.
“Uh, Steve, I can see what’s in there. That’s mine.”
“Yeah, but—” Steve huffs, still holding the bag tightly, and he almost seems… embarrassed. “Like, just. Don’t look at it right now, I’ve got it. I’m gonna dry clean it. Later, I mean.”
Eddie laughs. But Steve remains deadly serious.
“Uh, that’s nice and all, but I don’t think dry cleaning gets out… um, blood and…” Eddie pokes his head out the RV door, to where the kids are hauling weapons and tanks of lighter fluid with Robin and Nancy—a sight he steadfastly tries to ignore before he panics ad nauseam—and asks, “What’s your word for, uh, Upside Down related, uh, you know—”
“Slime?” Lucas offers.
“Sludge,” Erica corrects.
“Goop,” Max says decisively.
“Shit,” Dustin says.
Eddie nods. “Helpful, thanks.”
He turns back. He’d intended for all that to get Steve to crack a smile at least, but if anything, he looks worse; the expression on his face has shifted into evident guilt.
“Steve,” Eddie says, caught between being amused and… honestly, touched. “Relax. It’s fine, man.”
Steve keeps frowning. “But it was—”
“—not important.”
Steve huffs again, like he’s saying don’t lie.
Eddie changes tack. He hasn’t missed the fact that Steve’s change of clothes from The War Zone means that, sure, less skin’s on show, which is probably better for Eddie’s heart but, more importantly, his bandages are ‘conveniently’ concealed—which is decidedly less good for Eddie’s heart, so maybe they both cancel each other out.
If ever there was the time for sincerity…
“Maybe I care less about the damn vest, and more about the person wearing it.”
The pinch in Steve’s brow lessens. “Oh,” he says, soft, and then a little of his usual bravado comes back when he asks, “you sure?”
Eddie waggles a hand back and forth. “Kinda. It’s borderline.”
Steve chuckles. He puts the bag down on his seat, very carefully, as if it’s breakable, and Eddie’s heart does a little skip.
“Well. I still feel bad,” Steve insists. His tone’s light, but he fixes Eddie with a pointed look, don’t test me on this, Munson, ‘cause my stubbornness will win.
“Okay,” Eddie concedes, hands up in surrender. “Tell you what, Steve. What if I wore something of yours, to make it even?”
Steve wrinkles his nose, but he’s smiling. “What, and deliberately mess it up?”
Eddie nods gravely. “Like, it’s not quite Upside Down conditions, but whenever I cook, it gets pretty close.”
Steve’s smile grows. He makes a show of turning around in search of something.
“Huh, I must’ve forgot to pack my wardrobe.”
Eddie clicks his tongue in theatrical disapproval. “Yeah, that’s a pretty big oversight, dude, should’ve thought it through.”
“Guess it’ll have to wait for next time.”
And yeah, they’re joking, but still. Eddie doesn’t want to tempt fate.
“Next time? Nah, I’m praying all this shit is a one time thing.”
“No, I meant—” Steve hesitates, like he’s inadvertently stepped out of the joke, and he doesn’t know where to go from here. “Like. Whenever you come round.”
“Is that an invitation?” Eddie says; he hopes the quip is enough to cover his surprise, the long-buried thought—ridiculously high school, but true in spite of it: no-one’s ever invited me to…
Steve rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Oh, sorry, did you want it hand-written? The red carpet treatment?”
“Well, if you’re offering…”
“I’ll go get my quill,” Steve deadpans.
Eddie laughs. Says, only partly kidding, “It’s just, I’ll need some time to think it over.”
“The… invitation?”
“What item of clothing I’m taking, duh.”
“Right, yeah,” Steve scoffs, “major decision.”
“It is! You have whole ensembles, man.”
“Ensembles,” Steve echoes, but it’s got more of a French accent to it; Eddie suspects it’s a by-product of Steve helping Robin study, ‘cause she seems to be the only one who’s a polyglot in their contingent. “Get out of town, Munson.”
“Oh, like you don’t know. I swear, in winter, there’d be actual bets placed on what sweater you were gonna wear each day.”
“Uh-huh.”
Eddie hams it up, “Didn’t you wonder why so many girls were waiting to see you drive into school?”
“You’re an idiot,” Steve says, and he waves Eddie aside, about to jump out of the RV. “Lemme know when you’ve made your selection.”
Eddie knows he should leave it there. They’ve had their laughs, and it’s made to be forgotten about in the face of much more important things.
But that’s always been his problem, really. He can’t bite his tongue in time. He can’t help—
“The red one?”
Steve turns around, one foot off the step. “What?”
“The, uh…” Eddie clears his throat. It’s either say nothing or go all in. Fuck it, the shire’s burning. “I’ve decided what to—um. The red sweater?” Steve just keeps looking at him, so he adds, tentatively, “The one you’d wear near winter break?”
Steve raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, I know the one you mean.” He falters on the verge of speech, his lips twitching into a surprised little smile. He drawls, “You sure you weren’t placing those bets yourself, Munson?”, but it doesn’t sound mean, and his ears suddenly look a little pink, and maybe, maybe—
“No comment,” Eddie says, aiming for comically flat, but Steve’s smile is contagious.
“Okay, it’s a deal.” Steve steps outside—throws over his shoulder, “It’s yours,” oddly sincere; and Eddie wonders if they’ve really been talking about clothes at all.
#post rv driving scenes have gripped me again#pre steddie#steddie fic#steddie ficlet#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve x eddie
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An Ode to Cher and Oyei
How do I love them, let me count the ways...
1. They are a team
They run the gym together, they make decisions together, they protect their little family together. No secrets, no noble idiocy, no foolish pride at play here. They share in joys, worries and sorrows. Cher knows he is heard and listened to, and Oyei knows he is supported and understood.
2. Their little unit doesn't exclude Yak
It's so easy for two people in real love to make anybody who has to spend a great deal of time with them feel left out and lonely. But Yei and Cher both have their own individual and distinct relationships with Yak. It's clear that Yak feels comfortable to share confidences with each of them trusting that what he tells one doesn't automatically get shared with the other.
3. The knowing glances
My favourite thing about established couples is the mind reading powers and communication shorthands they develop over time. Every time Cher and Oyei give each other those sidelong glances you can see them having a wordless conversation in real time.
4. The horn
I've seen people upset about Cher dodging Oyei's advances at the gym but I mean, they ARE technically at work. Neither Oyei nor Cher strikes me as a man deprived. In fact, their whole slap-and-tickle routine is clearly tinged with an affection that assures me these two are having tons of fun in private. Oyei wouldn't tease like this if all he ever got was shut down. Yak's son-like embarrassment at their whole schtick also makes me confident that he knows way too much about their sex life.
5. They seem to have come a long way
The show has been dropping hints of a complex backstory for these two, and I hope we get some of it because I'm sure their history will fill in some of the greater universe questions it feels like the show is holding in reserve, about Yak and Yei's family and about how much homophobia figures into this story. I will await!
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pairing: dad!bucky barnes x au pair!reader
warnings: age gap (reader is 10 years younger than bucky), mentions of smut (18+, dni if under 18)
author’s note: last time i posted was december 31. i am very sorry is all i have to say 🤣
masterlist
i keep these longings lost in lowercase inside a vault ...
- But I wanna go! - Sadie whined as Y/N was preparing her to go spend some time with her grandmother.
Sadie wasn't one to really enjoy being away from her father and Y/N had made the grave mistake of telling her she and her dad were going out for a meal which in Sadie's mind roughly translated to they're going out to eat without her.
- I know, munchkin but you won't like the restaurant me and daddy are going to. They don't sell any chicken nuggets.
- But daddy always makes them have it.
- That's sweet, baby, but I don't think daddy can change menus. I think.
The red head pouted as Y/N finished sorting her out. She wondered if Bucky had a nugget empire of restaurants he could choose or if he was that well respected a chef would just prepare it for him just because his daughter wanted it. Whatever way it was, she stood there realising she'd never gone on a date with someone that high up. Sure she had her little affairs with men that had a trust fund but they were just that, the sons of powerful men. Bucky was both - the son of a powerful man and a powerful man himself. Did she even know how to dress for a man like that?
She sighed, entering her bedroom and opening her closet, crossing her arms at the sight in front of her. "Downtown at 7", what kind of information was that? It could mean a myriad of things which required a different dressing code. Damn you Bucky and your vague instructions. Y/N eventually decided on a black dress, hoping that would work for everything.
Y/N looked at herself in the mirror and put her lipstick on. The same mantra was going over and over in her mind "it's just a date", yet every time she did she rationalised that it wasn't just a date. It was a date with Bucky, her Bucky, her boss Bucky, father of Sadie Bucky. Just do it, she told herself as she went to grab her purse to meet Bucky at his office, just do it.
- Has anyone ever told you you take as long as my daughter to get ready? - she jumped a bit as she heard Bucky's voice.
- What are you doing here?
- We have a date, have you forgotten? - he got up, his hands inside the pockets of the neatly tailored suit as he approached her. - Or are you chickening out?
- I'm not chickening out. I thought I was meeting you at your office. I mean, you usually finish at 6:30 and since you said 7, I thought ...
- I forgot that you're the boss of my company. - he interrupted with his characteristic smirk. - I got off early. Got a new suit, fresh shave.
- Shame. I do like the stubble. - she said as she caressed his face. His cheeks warmed up at her touch. - Maybe now I do need to cancel my date with you.
- You like Italian? - he said as he helped her put her coat on. It was almost like a scene from an old movie. - There's this restaurant downtown a friend of mine opened, really quiet and private.
- Wanna hide me, huh? - she smirked.
- No, no ... shit, that's not what I meant. I thought you'd like something more private? I don't wanna hide you I mean look at you, you're so gorgeous and ...
- I'm just joking, Sergeant. - she interrupted him as she saw him get into a state of rambling. Bucky always knew what to say so to see him so tied up and awkward was rather enjoyable for her as she was the one to usually end up in that situation. - I think it sounds good. You really didn't need to go through all of this.
- Why? Did you prefer I skip right over to sex? - he smirked, making her cheeks flush with warmth as she recalled the last night. - See? I can joke too.
- Yeah sex with you is kind of a joke. - she retorted which made Bucky smile at her wit. - I dropped Sadie off at your mother's but she may call you at some point.
- Yeah, I called my mum to speak to her but apparently she is upset because there's no chicken nuggets? Care to explain?
- Long story. - Y/N shrugged. - Is she okay?
- My dad's probably boring her to death with model trains and my mum is feeding her every sweet treat they can find, so I'd say she's fine.
- She's going to be impossible tomorrow, isn't she?
- I was hoping she stayed at my parents tomorrow as well.
- Why? I'm bored, I have nothing to do until I hear back from my VIVA and Sadie keeps my mind away from it.
- I have plans for you tomorrow.
- What kind of plans?
- Y/N, doll, do you ever stop asking questions?
- I'm a scholar, my job is to ask questions. It's almost like I asked you to stop being bossy and impossible.
- I am not bossy and impossible.
Y/N snorted a bit at that statement. She adored Bucky and he had been nothing but a great boss - to her at least. He was a perfectionist and liked everything done with the best results in mind which sometimes led to him being quite impossible, specially if her was in a sour mood. Heck, sometimes she'd even been on the other end of it yet it usually ended up with him apologising.
- Let's just go before you decide you don't wanna go out with a bossy and impossible man.
- Jokes on you, maybe I do prefer my men bossy and impossible.
- And still you dated ... what's his name?
- Oh c'mon.
- Bet he didn't take you to a nice restaurant.
- It's not a competition and right now you haven't taken me anywhere.
- The driver is waiting downstairs, I was just waiting for you.
- You got the driver? Bucky, I could've driven us there.
- In the yellow monstrosity? I think not.
- HEY! Ducky is a great car.
- The fact you named your car makes it worse. It's a Fiat 500 cosplaying as a Tweety Bird.
- You know the word cosplay? Wow, you're a very advanced old man in your pop culture.
Bucky rolled his eyes, wrapping his arm around her waist and bringing her downstairs. He didn't exactly knew how to act on a date with her, she was not the type of woman he usually dated - he actually hadn't even dated in a while, he was one to just go to dinner for one night stands only. His last date, Sadie was 5 months old and he went out with a woman named Elizabeth who worked in Wall Street - a date which had been cut short by his constant wondering about Sadie.
This was different, first Y/N didn't work in an area which matched his and, at least in his head, was a lot more educated than him and probably worried about his daughter as much or sometimes even more. It was just different and he didn't exactly knew how to handle it in a suave manner and she seemed to notice as they sat. She gave him a knowing look before opening the restaurant menu.
- How many people here do you think are convinced I'm your sugar baby? - she attempted to break the ice, her little mischievous smile as she looked at him over the menu. Bucky laughed at this, looking around before looking back at her.
- Probably no one. If you were my sugar baby, your dress would fit you properly.
- Hey! - she playfully kicked him under the table. - This is Marc Jacobs.
- You wore that dress for your interview to be Sadie's au pair.
- That was ... a while ago. I had just started at graduate school.
- You had these really funny bangs and you used to carry around all of these really colourful notebooks.
- Yeah the breakup bangs. - she giggled. - You know, I had just cut them the night before and I cried so much when I woke up because I thought they would ruin the interview.
- Maybe your true calling is being a hairstylist.
- If I don't pass, then it may be an avenue.
- You really think you're not gonna pass your VIVA? C'mon, you're the smartest person I know.
- You're just saying that so I'll end up in your bed tonight.
- Uh, no, if I wanted you to end up in your bed tonight, I wouldn't need flattery. Just fifteen minutes alone with you in the restaurant bathroom and my hands.
She opened her mouth to respond back but immediately closed it, not sure of how to exactly answer to that. She'd heard stories, she knew he was right ... heck, she had experienced it just last night and she had to admit the idea of it was not entirely off putting.
- Don't change the subject.
- You changed the subject first, doll. - he shrugged. - You're the only person I know that doesn't believe you.
- I don't wanna talk about it, Sergeant.
- Bucky.
- What if I prefer Sergeant?
- Darling, you can call me whatever the hell you like, as long as you're calling me.
taglist: @talesofadragon @winters1917 @vladsgirlxx @stinkerbelle007 @maybefoxysouls @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @chipilerendi @kandis-mom @belennasif @abitofblues @floralwsloki @montyrokz @sealxfredweasley @legendarytrashcopeclipse @sydariah @purple-vegan @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @slowdownbeforeyouregretit
#sebastian stan#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan/reader#sebastian stan imagine#sebastian stan x y/n#bucky x reader#bucky#bucky barnes#bucky/reader#bucky/you#bucky x you#bucky x y/n#bucky/y/n
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【★】 gn reader but described as afab, kinda mean scara, reader is a masochist lol
【☆】 ignoring the fact that i disappeared for like 8 months, hi, new thingy (reup)
word count: 4.3k
There’s no coming back from those offices. Everyone knows that, it’s like an open secret between the ranks of the fatui.
One gets called in for a “little chat” and then just disappears, there are no deserters allowed in an organization like this. Too many secrets.
The lower ranking soldiers always gossip about whoever the next one is gonna be, it keeps everyone on edge, just one measly mistake in front of a general, or worse, a harbinger and it’s over. It doesn’t help that other privates will often turn on eachother, reporting their comrade’s mistakes to get on their supervisor’s good side, in a sense, the fatui has eyes everywhere.
Your days of walking on eggshells are long over, thank the Tstaritsa, but it doesn’t mean you’re completely safe either. Being a general yourself, you’ve been faced with many hard decisions, sometimes covering up the mistakes of a soldier, sending back touched up reports hoping no supervisor will notice any discrepancy.
“Your empathy will come back to bite you in the ass”.
It’s a sentence the Balladeer threw your way once, it wasn't advice out of the goodness of his (non-existent) heart. Matter of fact, he didn’t even spare you a glance before walking past you, on his way to scold another soldier. How stupid, he must've thought, sharing your already scarce meal with a tiny bird that sought refuge under the shadow of your feet.
But you just can’t help it. In your early days you could only pray someone spared you the same kindness you give out now.
But that was a long time ago. You went on many other expeditions in the Balladeer’s team, somehow always managing not to fess up and prove yourself worthy of your role. It was a noteworthy achievement, after all his bad temper was notorious to anyone who spent even a few minutes in his presence.
The Balladeer does not go out of his way to compliment anyone, flattery is not his style. Just the absence of any reprimand is more than enough to tell you you’re doing good.
However, that does not stop you from wasting time fantasizing about such scenarios.
“You’re doing good.” What a dream it would be to hear that. “You’re being good.”
But the image you have of him in your mind is a far-fetched, rose-tinted version of the one in front of you now. You’re not as stupid as to warp his essence into anything even remotely kind. You know of his temperament, sometimes you’d even go as far as to think he’s not even human.
During an expedition, he slapped a soldier once. It was late in the evening and some soldiers decided to let out some steam with a few drinks. It just so happened that one of them got a little too… feisty.
But the Balladeer did not let go of his face. He just kind of stared at the red mark his hand left, squishing the fat of his cheeks in some weird torturous ritual, moving the skin around to admire the shape of the coagulated blood under his skin. He was so close he could feel the shaky breaths of the poor guy fanning on his face.
He relented only once he was satisfied. He enjoys the fear in people’s faces. No, fear is just an expression, it’s the pure terror that spreads in someone’s whole body that excites him.
He can tell the exact moment when someone switches from being scared to dreading losing their life.
It’s something you’ve seen several times yourself, never hesitate, to end someone’s life. Hesitation makes you waver, staring at someone’s eyes makes you acknowledge that they’re scared, they’re human.
He never wavers. Hm. He’s either incredibly cruel… or just above your kind? You take a mental note of that.
The first thought excites you, that tiny familiar buzzing feeling running down your spine.
It’s so unfair.
No, that’s not right, you quickly shake that thought off. Who would ever dream of being at the receiving end of the Balladeer’s ire?
It’s not the first time you find yourself spiraling that same line of thought. But he’s just so pretty.
You suppose that in order to make it out alive of his squadron one needs to grow tough skin, tolerating his humiliation tactics and aggressions. You just never thought you’d develop a liking to that.
How the mighty have fallen. You used to be so respectable.
You can’t even begin to picture his disgusted expression if he found out that deep down, a part of you hoped he would lay his hand on you.
Or if he knew how many sleepless nights you spent rubbing your thighs together, trying to get rid of a heat that just wouldn’t go away.
Or, additionally, if he knew that the first thing you did in your new private (perks of being promoted) room was to disregard your clothes and immediately push your fingers in your aching needy cunt. Thinking of him.
How absolutely shameful. You wonder if your stay in the fatui awakened something in you. Or maybe you were always like this.
But you’re always so composed. And your fatui mask covers any blushing on your face;
No one would be able to detect your attraction to him based on your behavior.
After all, it was very common to hear creaking sounds at night. That’s just what happens when you force young adults in a shared room together. People just turn the other way. Ignore the sound and go to sleep.
You feel yourself getting warmer at the sight of him walking towards your squadron.
It’s another of those annoying training sessions, you don’t have to participate, just surveil the cadets. It doesn’t fall within your assignments, it’s your Lord Balladeer’s job, but he so kindly sacked you his responsibilities. After all, he’s above watching insignificant men stumble in knee high snow.
But you’re just so distracted.
He’s sitting on a chair with a tiny table in front of him, quickly skimming through huge piles of paper. The huge fur of his coat shields his face from your view (a shame, he looks so cute when concentrating), but he’s not covering anything else. His tiny shorts slightly hike up his legs as he shifts to put one leg over the other, revealing even more skin.
Just how is he not getting cold?
You huff, your breath crystalizing in front of you, forming a tiny mist as if proving your point.
It’s freezing. And he’s out there with his usual attire. Not that you’re complaining, you always had a thing for his legs. Always looking at the way they crease and shift on his thighs every time he crouches to look at something. You always watch him with such an intense gaze.
It’s not weird. It is your job to ensure his safety after all.
Not that he needs it. You’ve seen him in combat, not many enemies survive after the first shock of electro.
It’s scary. It’s exciting.
He also uses it to correct small mistakes. He’s shocked you once after you almost tripped while serving him tea.
It was tiny and barely audible but your finger spasmed in an uncomfortable position, and then it was over.
He let out a humorous hum at your shocked expression, then quickly dismissed you.
You spent the rest of the day thinking about that small encounter.
Thinking about all the other ways he could use his shocks on you. Maybe they could simulate the effects of a vibrator (just a slightly painful one). You’re not allowed to bring anything with you when you join the fatui. And using your hands or humping your pillow always leaves you yearning for more.
So lost in thought. You didn’t even notice the way he was staring at you, an unreadable expression on his face. Not anger, not disappointment, something more akin to… disbelief.
He knew you would cover up your underling’s mistakes sometimes, he couldn’t be bothered to call you out on that. But to let so many incompetent cadets trip on the same wall, face-planting on the snow and mud without even taking note of that? Right in front of him?
Were you hoping he was too busy with his papers to not notice that, or are not even paying attention?
Your tendency to sometimes space out is something he was very aware of. But you never actively slacked off on your tasks. This is new, not unexpected but new. You were bound to disappoint him, after all, it is in your nature as a human. He needs to stop this before it becomes a habit and gets in the way of his work.
He quickly calls some other general to take your place. You barely register when he calls your name. His voice makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up in shivers.
“Come.” He firmly says before walking off the training grounds.
You hesitate for a second, your eyes focusing back on the view in front of you. Your lord wants a word with you? Just how deep in thought were you to not even notice him staring holes in your back? It can’t be any good.
You follow after him, catching up with him and watching the back of his coat sway with each step.
The inside of the palace is just as cold as the outside. The only relief a fatuus gets is the mercy of being shielded from the icy winds. It’s only when you set foot inside his office that you finally let yourself breathe.
The whole walk to his private office is full of agonizing spiraling thoughts. Surely this isn’t one of those “little chats”, right? The soldiers guarding the door don’t even spare the two of you a glance, their masks covering your expression, but you’re sure they pity you in some way.
The Balladeer is not known for his kindness, but even through his hate filled vision of humanity, he knows the intrinsic need of every being for validation. Not that he’s going to give them any, he has no interest in building any amicable relations in this organization, lest it serves him to reach his goals the future. But it would also be very troublesome to replace even more of his subordinates. Were he in an altered mood he would’ve just electrocuted on the spot.
Recognizing when one of his useless soldiers actually has a shred of potential is not something he’s very keen on doing, but the alternative is to put up with more incompetent fools, and that’s not on his agenda.
He sits on his chair, moving papers around on his desk. You watch him as he smacks his lips and lets out a silent huff as he finally rearranges the papers to his liking.
You’re shacking, he attributes it to the cold. Humans have always been so much weaker and more vulnerable than him. His skin is cold, glacially cold, but it’s not a feeling he registers.
Even his coat is just for show.
Your cheeks are red, but it’s (at least partially) not from the cold. Now that his coat is off you get a full view of his face. His dashing red liner perfectly contours his eyes, giving them a sharp intense look. He begins talking to you, his voice is calm and smooth, at least he’s not mad at you.
It’s about your zoning off.
It’s not something you do on purpose, but it’s just so hard to focus when you're so damn horny.
Frankly, you’re more surprised he didn’t just slap you on the spot, not that you would’ve minded. Maybe your Lord is showing you his mercy? The thought of him showing you any form of kindness makes heat slowly creep up your face. The cold slowly leaves your body as warmth replaces it, the overwhelming feeling leaving you to fiddle with the hem of your clothing.
“My deepest apologies, it will never happen again, my Lord”.
This is to be expected, addressing him with the right honorifics and apologizing is the correct (and preferred) outcome. He blinks slowly, at least he saved himself a migraine.
What he doesn’t expect is to not see you when he opens his eyes. He didn’t dismiss you. He gets up from his chair but stops when he finally spots you, on your knees with your forehead touching the ground.
“I want to make it up to you, my Lord”, you say, still not moving from your position.
This. This he likes. Usually, he’s the one forcing his subordinates to kneel in front of him, and not in a kind way either. Pressing their face on whatever unfortunate surface they were standing on, purposefully applying more pressure than needed, hoping his boots would leave a heavy mark on their face. Sometimes they would do it out of their own volition, but it doesn’t stem from an urgent need to show him their worship, it was out of fear.
“Hm.” He makes his way to the couch on the side of his desk and sits crosslegged. “Come here,”
But he interrupts you before you can push yourself on your feet- “No, stay like that.
It takes you a second to process that he wants you to crawl your way to him. You awkwardly move your body, trying not to trip on your own coat before settling in front of him.
He puts his hand on your cheeks, lightly squishing them before raising his fingers and taking your mask off, leaving your expression bare before him. It’s no different than any other fatuus mask, but he slowly examines it regardless.
“Go on, show me your devotion, (Name),” he says, shifting so his knees are on each side
Just the fact that he knows your name makes you shudder. You’re not sure of what exactly he wants from you, but you’re already in a bizarre enough situation, so you decide to follow your instincts.
You slowly wrap your hand around his boot, raising it until you can comfortably lower your face, letting your lips come in contact with it. His eyes widen for a moment, as you continue rubbing your face on the side of his boot. Their surface is clean, that bit of snow remaining gets smothered on your skin, melting away.
“Hah”, moving to other boot, you repeat the same motion “At least you know where you belong.”
His voice has a layer of malice to it, like he’s elated by this outcome. Your hand comes in contact with his skin, it’s so cold, like touching freshly piled snow. Opting to rub his legs in a meek attempt at warming them up, you press your lips to his knee, savoring the moment.
Any other person would feel humiliated in this situation, worshipping at your Lord’s feet, but this, it’s like a dream come true to you. Being so close to the object of your attraction makes your head go spinning. It feels unreal just being able to lay your hands on them. You shouldn't press your luck. but it’s so tempting to just reach over and grope him all over.
He would probably kill you.
Maybe.
Perhaps if you’re slow and methodical about it you can manage to get a tiny bit closer to his thighs. Masking your need as devotion.
You place your lips just above his knee, your hands moving under it, rubbing at the soft skin. He’s also curious about how far you’re willing to push yourself. He’s no fool, he knows you’re scared of crossing a line you’re not even aware of. He could be kind and point you in the right direction, but watching you struggle to restrain yourself while mindlessly mouthing at his skin is a show too good to pass on.
Eventually, he widens his legs, just enough to allow you to sit deeper in between them. This new position allows you to reach further. It stuns you for a moment, hesitantly putting your hands on his thighs, looking at his face for any sign of vexation. When you don’t find any, you deem it safe to push further, lowering your face to latch your mouth on the exposed skin. Leaving a slightly wet trail everywhere you go.
He’s let you get this far, and if the way he moves his legs giving you even more access is any indicator of his enjoyment, it encourages you to try your luck.
Your hand slips under his shorts, slowly pushing them up. You lock eyes, and for a second you fear you’ve overstayed your welcome, luckily that’s not the case.
“No markings.” His hand now rests on your head, slowly moving your hair out of your face.
Would it even be possible to leave marks? His skin shows no imperfections and it’s so smooth it makes you want to lose yourself in it. But it also feels… tougher? While rubbing it with your hands, it felt robust, like if you sunk your teeth in it it wouldn’t break even the upper layer. Maybe just leave a mark. A sign you were there.
But now is not the time to get lost in your imagination. Not when the real deal is in front of you, inviting you to have your fill.
You pinch lightly at the flesh of his inner thighs, you’re so close to his crotch, if it wasn’t for that piece of armor around his waist, the side of your face would be squished in it.
“Enough teasing,” He says, and almost as if he was reading your mind, he rids himself of the armor and other superfluous frills attached to it. “Get to work.”
Now that nothing is blocking your view, you can see the bulge that formed under all those clothing.
The sight makes you drool, as you immediately reach a hand to slightly squeeze it. Your eagerness amuses him, but he’s grown impatient. His grip on your hair is much tighter now, dragging your face until it’s directly flush with his clothed erection.
“You better not waste my time” His tone is harsh and firm, and it just makes the heat between your legs worse. When his grip relents, you push yourself away just enough to pull down his shorts. He shifts his hips up, aiding you in sliding them off.
Now that his erection is free, it bounces slightly as your breath fans over it. The tip is a cute shade of pink, beads of precum leaking from it. But he doesn’t give you the time to admire it any longer, grabbing himself from the hilt to slap it on your face a few times. The sound of skin slapping against skin is the only audible thing in the room. It makes your head spin. To think you’d have the privilege of being the one he unleashes his sexual frustrations on.
He pulls your head up, tapping his dick on your lips. You open your mouth, letting him rest his tip on it, and your lips wrap around him, tasting him.
Were it any other situation, you’d take your time in savoring this moment, slowly sliding your tongue around his girth, letting his desire grow. But this is different, like if your performance doesn’t satisfy him he might just kill you on the spot.
And the thought shouldn’t turn you on, for a second the thought of biting him just to piss him off crosses your mind. What a way to go that would be.
Alas, not wanting to keep him waiting, you make an effort to take as much of him as you can, until your nose is flush with his pelvis.
He lets out a satisfied sigh and that slight expression of annoyance leaves his face, your mouth is warm and wet, and the movement of you swallowing around sends shivers down his spine.
“That’s it,” his grip on your hair tightens, holding you in place. “That’s good.”
The mere hint of him praising you makes you shudder, you’re so soaked your underwear is sticking to your cunt. You want to thank him, but speaking with him in your mouth proves to be difficult, it comes out as an unintelligible hum, whether he understood you or not he seems to appreciate the vibration of your throat.
He pulls your head back, urging you to start moving, seemingly done with just enjoying your throat. You drag yourself back until his tip is once again resting on your tongue, and then push it all back in, as far as you can go. You manage to work up a steady rhythm, one that leaves small moans escape from his mouth. They’re breathy, but every time you manage to wring one out of him is like a win to you. Each little noise of his spurs you on further. One of your hands reaches up to grab the rest of him, moving up and down in synch with your mouth, while the other reaches down and inside your uniform pants, rubbing at your clit.
“F-fuck… You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Your eyes trail up to look at his, his flushed face looking back at you.
“Me using your mouth turns you on.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement, and to put more emphasis on it he shifts his legs until one of them is resting between your own.
“You’re doing a good job… I guess I should reward you.”
He shoves his boot up, as if kicking your hand away. He wants you to…. oh.
Complacently, you shift lower until your full weight is resting on him, the absence of your fingers replaced by him. It takes you a moment to adjust to this new position, but once you get back on your rhythm you resume your ministrations on him, while slowly grinding on his leg.
His other hand reaches your head, threading your hair before settling a firm grip next to the other, you’re given a moment of reprise before he shoves his hips forward, roughly, holding you in place.
His thrusts are fast and merciless, each one reaching deeper inside your throat. You close your eyes, trying not to gag when he reaches a bit too deep, not that you have the ability to complain, all you can do is try your best to accommodate him as he uses you to get off. Your hips start moving a bit faster too, the thought of you being a mere means to an end in his eyes is turning you on more than you’d like. And he notices.
His cock throbs in your mouth and he lets out a breathy laugh, “So pathetic. Humping my leg like a dog in heat.”
You open your eyes for a moment to look at him. He’s grinning at you, looking at you as if you were something truly beneath him, pushing his hips in rougher as if to accentuate that. The sounds of saliva and cum smacking around your lips are so obscenely loud, you’d have half a mind to almost be embarrassed by it, but there’s a knot tightening in your stomach, and it grows tighter and tighter with every thrust of your hips. It doesn’t help that with every thrust his leg moves slightly up against you, coaxing you into an orgasm.
Your hands clamp on his thighs, hard, the shuddering of your hips slowing down as you unwind on him. You let out withered moans, barely audible but still sending pleasurable vibrations up his length.
You’re straight up drooling around him at this point, saliva sliding down your chin and on his balls. He’s sounding a bit breathier above you, and you can feel him twitching with more vigor inside your throat. Your body limp on his makes it easier to thrust deeper.
He pushes in as far as your throat allows him and stills there. You’re prepared to feel him coming down your throat, but he pushes your head back suddenly, so far back his dick slides off your mouth with a wet pop.
He’s stroking himself above you for a moment until there’s a brief pause, interrupted by a breathless curse as he finishes on the top of your lips, riddling your face with his come.
He sags back down on the couch, basking in the aftermath of his orgasm with you still in between his legs. His chest heaves up and down, catching his breath, but his moment of peace is short lived as he speaks up.
“I guess you did prove yourself,” he says as he slowly tucks himself back in his pants. You squint up at him. You don’t move from your position, still sitting even as he removes his leg from underneath you, breathing slowly and deeply now that his dick occupying your airways.
When you come to your senses you start searching around with your gaze for a tissue or even some rag to clean yourself up, you’re truly in an unpresentable state. Your hair is messily pulled out of its ties, strands flying everywhere and some glued to your face. Your face… Awkwardly, you wipe your lips, trying to at least dry up the saliva but there’s nothing you can do to hide the very evident cum sticking on… everything else. You can’t just walk out in this state- you do have a reputation to uphold. And rumors travel fast- by the end of the day every cadet would know of the shameful state you left the Balladeer’s office in, and it wouldn’t take long for them to put two and two together-
“Oh. This belongs to you.” He says holding your mask, seemingly noticing your inner monologue. “You’ll be needing it out there.” He adds as he puts it back on your face, squishing that bit of cum on your cheeks.
“You can go now. I’ll call you again when I need your… assistance.”
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Imagine a meet cute where Eddie is alone on a stormy night and he thinks someone is breaking in, but you’re just crawling under his trailer because there’s a stray animal under there and your rescuing it!!
Eddie usually didn't mind being alone in the trailer, being alone meant he had a sense of freedom to do whatever he wanted, but tonight is one of the nights he really wished Wayne was home. The news issued a severe thunderstorm warning that lasted from 2pm to 2am so Eddie made sure to have everything he needed prepared ahead of time. Pizza was on the table as was a few beers and all the movies he could ever want to watch was on the floor next to the couch. He settled in around 7pm and all was going as planned.
That was until 11pm rolled around. The storm was getting worse and there was so much noise surrounding the trailer that Eddie was starting to freak. As a trash can knocked over right outside of his window, Eddie finally decides to investigate. He puts on shoes and a sweatshirt and starts mumbling to himself about how stupid he is acting, "Why am I doing this? It could be a killer or some shit, what the fuck am I doing? Getting killed that's what you're doing Eddie my god." As he turned the corner he nearly screams as he runs into someone. He took a step back and realized that it was the newbie that just moved in the week prior.
He bite backs his scream and watches your movement. You lay on the ground and stretch your arm out as if you're trying to grab something that is under his trailer. "Oh sweetie come out please, it's okay I promise." He grows even more confused and curious as he watches you scoot to be closer to the side of trailer home. "It has to be scary out here all by yourself sweetie, I have some food you can have..." You call out trying to ease whatever is under the trailer.
He clears his throat and finally gets your attention. "Uh...What are you doing under my home?" He asks and if he looked any closer he would've been able to see your cheeks redden. "There's a baby possum...it's mother, well she didn't make it." You stand up, brushing off your jeans and start to explain more of the situation. "You know Susan? She lives like three trailers down I think, anyway she ended up hitting their mom and now it's alone and it has to be terrified! I mean look at this weather!" You started sniffling and Eddie couldn't tell if it was because you were crying over the situation or if it was because you were getting sick from being outside for so long. He really hoped it wasn't either, he'd hate for you to get sick but he also couldn't handle seeing someone so pretty and clearly so sweet cry.
"Look, I can try and help. I think I have some I don't know maybe some cat food? Would that help l think I have some, I know we have grapes..." You two finally agree on the grapes and about an hour later you finally rescued the baby possum from under the trailer. Eddie walked you and the baby that was just rescued to your trailer and you properly introduce yourselves. By the time you got to your front door the two of you seemed pretty smittened with one another and a date had been planned for the next night. Hopefully the storms would be passed by then and neither of you ended up with a nasty cold.
#eddie munson#stranger things#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson imagine#stranger things imagine#stranger things x reader#eddie munson fluff#opossums#possums#soft eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things fluff
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Okay so singer reader idea and if you’re not feelin it then that’s okay! But maybe Bye by Ariana Grande. And I imagined it like her and Spencer were together but have been broken up for a couple months and reader comes out w this song and changing the lyrics in the song to “so I grab my stuff, Penny just pulled up in the driveway.” And then they eventually get back together.
THANKS FOR REQUESTING!! ALSO some quick headcanons for this au so it makes more sense: the other 4 songs i mention reader wrote are down bad, the archer, hits different, and stranger and then after this blurb i picture reader wrote feels like !!
cw: hurt/comfort warning :((( spencer self sabotages !!!!! but happy ending :)
wc: 1k
singer!reader masterlist
++
Heartbreak has always been a real motivator for you when it comes to songwriting. You just hoped this motivator died the moment Spencer came into your life… unfortunately, it didn't.
Something serious happened at the BAU three weeks ago, so serious that Spencer went to your place in a panic and told you it was best if you two stopped your relationship now before anything bad happens. The media still weren't a hundred percent sure who he was, the disguises and staying on the down low really helped with that, and he claimed that's a good thing– it’s good that no one (other than close friends and family) really knew about him and his job. He told you he didn't want you in danger.
And some very small rational part of you knew he was doing the best thing his brain told him to, you were just angry and sad about it all. You love Spencer; that’s a no brainer, but you wish he would have given you the chance to make the decision if it's going to impact you. So, because of the heartbreak of him leaving that night and making absolutely no contact with you afterwards, you kind of went on a rampage with your writing.
The first song was written not even three days after it happened. Penelope pulled up to your place to give you a hug and to let you know that just because Spencer doesn't allow himself to be happy, doesn't mean she will stop being there for you. You love Penelope so much. After the visit though (and a few too many glasses of wine) you kind of threw anything you saw that was Spencer’s into a bag and handed it off to her. You wanted to keep only what was yours, and you didn't want to have to deal with it later; you didn't want to deal with the heartbreak later.
Still a bit buzzed, you decided to start working on some music. Phone recording, and fingers playing the piano, you sang whatever popped in your head.
“So I grab my stuff
Penny just pulled up in the driveway
It's time
Bye-bye
Boy, bye
Bye-bye
It's over, it's over, oh yeah
Bye-bye
I'm takin' what's mine, yeah
Bye-bye
It's over, it's over, oh yeah”
And it was out to stream within the week. You went through a lot of loopholes, long talks with your management, and producers to get it out as soon as possible. When you wrote it, it felt like it was on the tip of your tongue, and that anxious feeling made you loath everything around you. For your own mental health, it was released way before any other song or even mention of a new album. That week that was spent tying up loose ends on your management’s side was a week also full of songwriting, and you were sure you'd have an album by the end of the month.
When the surprise drop happened, people were confused. Supportive, but confused. You normally did a lot of interactions with fans online before or after a release, so your silence was concerning. You proclaimed it was your hermit season, and with that, people (that being friends and family) knew not to bother you. So you could say that when a knock on your door was heard throughout your place, you were hesitant.
You got up and looked through the peephole, sighing when you saw the genius you were still very in love with. It took you a minute to collect yourself– you didn't want to speak to him but all parts of your heart were aching for a moment with Spencer– and you slowly opened the door, seeing the sadness pool in his eyes.
“Uh– h-hi.”
“What are you doing here?” You didn't mean for your words to come out so harsh, and neither did he by the flinch he gave you.
“I wanted to talk to you…” You scoffed and shook your head. This wasn't a good idea. You began to close the door, only to abruptly stop at his voice. “I heard your song.” You stayed still, waiting for him to continue. “And I spoke to Penelope, and everyone on the team and I hate myself for letting you go the way I did and–”
“And what?” You cut him off, practically begging him to give you something to hold on to.
“And I want to try and talk to you about this and do anything I can to try and make this up.”
You softened a bit, and gave a nod, opening your door wider for him to enter. When he did, you motioned at him, “keep going.”
He took a deep breath and gave direct eye contact as he spoke, “I self sabotage, but in addition to that, I’m terrified of anything happening to you.” He waited a moment, clearly collecting his thoughts, “I see what happens to the loved ones of those on my team. I never want that to happen to you.”
“I understand that, but that doesn't give you the right to make the decision to end things without consulting me.”
“And I completely agree and understand.” His words were quick. “I know I’m allowed to be cautious but I should have spoken to you and tried to figure out how you felt on the subject.”
“Exactly.” You stared at each other, and your eyes began to fill with tears. “You are never allowed to do that to me again. Leaving me… safely stranded… I hated it, Spencer, and I love you so much, so you are never allowed to do that again.”
He took that as his in, and tentatively took a step towards you, bringing his hands up to your arms and gently squeezing them. “Never. I love you too, I am so sorry, Y/N.”
You gave a nod and moved closer to him, loosely wrapping your arms around his waist and feeling his arms engulf you. You waited a moment before speaking, “I wrote four other songs about you.” He hummed in agreement, “and they're all going on the next album.”
He gave a soft chuckle, “I completely understand,” and he left a soft kiss on the top of your head. A huge weight was lifted off of you, and you never felt more at home.
++
singer!reader taglist: @itsleilabxtch @wietske27 @taylorswiftilovecowboylikeme @marshatesthisreality @ladylincoln @delightfulmakerpiegiant @chericherrypie @punksnotdeadbutiam @stillhere197 @laddywitch @httpstoyosi @obi-wansgirl @amandareids
let me know if you would like to be added or removed!
#spencer reid#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#dr spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#singer!reader
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I'm gonna start by saying that your fics are amazing! I love the way you write and I always get immersed in them. I would like to request an Osamu x reader fic, i was thinking about a childhood friends pining for a decade!au happening while working in his Onigiri shop, you might add Suna if you want,perhaps as a love triangle and misunderstandings as in Osamu thinking that the reader like Suna. As for the smut, I'll leave that to you 👀
thank you so much for supporting!! i love getting these requests and hearing from you! it really helps. not gonna lie, this one challenged me, but i think it turned out well! hope i got this right :) thanks again for the request love
warnings. lite!nsfw. minors DNI
info. hq lite!nsfw / safe consent practices / mutual pining / some angst, some hurt, but pay-off / husband material!osamu / timeskip!osamu / childhood friends to lovers / miscommunication / r.i.p suna's unrequited feelings / misunderstandings / osamu gives great hugs / osamu is a wine snob / osamu is a little shy / 2.5k words
🤍haikyuu collection. more of my hq here
more links. my ao3 / masterlist / request box is open so give me some ideas pls!
Your heart gave an all-too familiar squeeze at the sight of an old friend.
There he was, clad in a black cap, apron, and a well-fitting shirt. His face was one of slight concentration, his mouth in a straight line, jaw flexed. A strong arm lifted the black bag he carried high into the trash in the alley with ease.
"'Samu!" His nickname was like a sigh of reassurance on your tongue.
He turned, a stern face letting up as soon as he recognized you coming towards him. He quickly discarded his gloves in the trash and made forward to meet you. It ended in a hug in the middle of the sidewalk.
Business was so slow today, he really wasn't expecting any surprises- especially not any pleasant ones.
"(Y/n)." Was a mumble against your hair, charged relief on his breath. He was lifting you off of your feet and melting into you at the same time.
Your eyes stung a little when you tucked your face into his comforting shoulder. It'd been so long since graduation, but everything was coming back to you, all at once, against your will.
Maybe it was because you could still taste the onigiri you just finished, but those lunches he used to prepare for you kept cropping up. You weren't sure why it kept making you want to cry, though.
"I missed you!" You whispered, swallowing a sob.
He gave you a crushing squeeze in return. He certainly hadn't stopped working out since your high school days. There was a hesitation in letting each other go.
"God," His quick blinking made you feel better for getting emotional, "What are you doin' all the way out here?"
You sniffled and turned to Suna, briefly forgotten at the table, "I told you those fillings tasted familiar!"
There was an unmistakable shock in Osamu's eyes when you turned back to him, "We were just grabbing lunch. I had no idea 'Onigiri Miya' would actually mean you!"
He missed the natural beat to respond- instead of letting your declaration die, you kept up the attempt to rekindle things.
"Did you get a new number?" You asked, quieter, trying to catch his eye, so you leaned your head further between him and Suna.
He looked down at you with a much softer expression, "Hm?"
"I- texted you a couple months ago, I just assumed you got a- new number," You trailed.
It felt a bit forced and loser-esque to ask the reason why he hadn't texted you back. Two months was a while to get 'caught up' in something, after all.
If he didn't want to talk to you, he technically didn't owe you an explanation.
He blinked. It didn't cross his mind that you would've texted him-- his fingers fumbled for his phone in his pocket to show you a new iPhone.
"Yeah," He sighed, "Shit, I didn't think to tell anyone but 'Sumu..."
This time, he felt like the loser. He didn't have many people to text, nowadays. But he certainly didn't want you and Suna to know that.
Relief flashed across your face as you admitted in a light laugh, "Oh, thank god. I really thought you were ignoring me!"
"Let's all exchange numbers," You suggested.
You looked back to Suna and thought you saw some hostility in his eyes, "So we can all meet up sometime, when you're not working."
The process of getting each other's contacts was quiet and stilted. You thought better of making plans here and now, because there was an indescribable feeling that something was wrong.
Maybe the timing.
Osamu frowned at his phone after getting it back from Suna.
Maybe the place.
Suna gave a subtle sigh when Osamu put his number in.
Your text to Osamu that night garnered a response so quick that it made up for the months of uncertainty and pseudo-grieving. Your oldest friendship was not buried as deep in the ground as you had previously thought.
It ended in a suggestion you weren't expecting.
There was nowhere you both wanted to eat at, and no activities you could think of that would allow for the long conversations you both favored.
I could cook for us.
You knew better than to deny him the chance to cook, but it was clear to both of you that it felt a little too forward. A little too intimate for just two good friends.
That wasn't enough to keep you from agreeing immediately.
Certain that he didn't feel the same, you rationalized that you had nothing to worry about.
Dark red swirled slow, unending circles in your glass. You weren't one for red, but he brought out a vintage just for you tonight.
The perfectly plated dinner in front of you didn't last long. Osamu made it so easy to like foods you swore up and down you hated; you didn't question his choices despite your usual pickiness.
There were a number of times you had to pretend not to notice him watching you eat. He was pretty obvious, because he'd raise his spoon full of food, then let it hover mid-air, and turn his whole head to watch you chew. It was as if he was waiting for you to declare it was the worst thing you'd ever tasted.
He was still working on his -most likely cold- plate minutes after you cleaned yours off. It left you to catch up to him in glasses of wine. The bottle was nearing empty and you were still on your first.
"Do you have any roommates?" You asked, glancing around a spacious apartment.
It was so still. You'd surely die of loneliness, if you were him.
He shook his head. It made sense with his preference for solitude, but it still made you sit back and sip on your wine to keep from voicing your concern.
"It's quiet," Osamu wiped his mouth with his napkin and pushed his plate forward, "I know."
Was your discomfort that obvious?
His chuckling won out over your insistence that it wasn't that bad, and you eventually were resolved back to slouching in your chair again.
"You just need some- flowers," You motioned to the center of the table, not believing in your advice in the slightest, "Or... something like that."
"To be fair, I never sit at the table."
He poured the last of the wine into his glass. You stared down at yours. He still spoke and acted stone-cold sober. You had to wonder how much he drank, with this bleak living space.
"Not a fan of Merlot?"
This was getting a little embarrassing.
This time, you gave in, "Not feeling this one as much."
His brow raised. He had a layered expression, like he was torn between two sides of himself for a split-second.
He eased up and slid his elbows on the table, wine glass looking absurdly tiny in his hand.
You admired the gentle way he held the delicate glass, how he knew just how the weight was supposed to be distributed in the webs of his fingers.
"You drink wine much?" He had that completely immersed look on his face that was always so difficult to return.
He mistook your trouble to return his gaze as discomfort, and laughed, retracting his body from the table, "I-'m sorry--,"
"No-no it's okay-!" You put your hand on his arm and scooted your chair closer to affirm that you didn't mind his proximity -that you in fact welcomed it- and rambled, "I- don't, drink wine like that. So I- wouldn't really know what's good."
His gaze sent a shiver surging through your whole body. What an intense pair of eyes. He leaned forward on his elbows, thumb rubbing his freshly shaved cheek.
"It's an expensive hobby."
You were wracking up inappropriate questions by the second. First, the lack of love in his sad apartment, then his potential alcohol issues, now his salary.
The quiet clink of his glass on the table. A heavy, warm hand stilled yours on his arm, and he caught your troubled gaze.
"But it's just a hobby," He smiled.
The apartment filled with shared laughter. You were getting read like an open book, you couldn't help but cool your face down with the back of your hand.
"I-I promise, I'm not trying to judge," You sighed and grinned at what you noticed as his slightly tipsy giggling, "I just... care about you."
Osamu took a breath to say something, but something else flickered across across his face.
His hand was starting to slip from yours.
"So, you and Suna again?"
You laughed at what you thought was a joke. He didn't return it; instead, he let go and took another big sip from his almost empty glass.
"Oh-," You realized he was mistaken, "We're not together."
"Mm!" He swallowed and laughed, "Oh- that's good."
His focus faltered with a small cough, "I mean, not good, but-,"
"That's not something I want to go back to," You saved his embarrassing admission gracefully and looked away, only thinking about that short-lived relationship in high school.
Suna was just a distraction. A temporary filler for your unbearable emptiness. You never stopped loving Osamu, even when you had everyone else fooled. In the end, Suna just made you miss your friend more, since it sparked an unspoken drift in the process. It wasn't one of your brightest moments.
The look on his face was asking for more information. A 'So... why?' was on the tip of his tongue. You saved him the breath.
"He reached out. I was free, and I wanted to make sure we were alright after things ended like that."
Osamu nodded slowly, swirling half a sip of wine in his glass with careful consideration.
"You talk about it like you never liked him," He sighed against the rim, then shot it back in a way that made you realize why he was drinking so much.
He didn't have the courage to talk to you like this without it.
Your thumb, still resting on his forearm, rubbed thoughtfully. If he was being this candid through his actions, you didn't mind coming clean about a few things.
"I didn't," You admitted in a breathy half-laugh, "It wasn't real to me."
You shut your eyes tight and seethed, "I know that sounds so cruel--,"
"Yeah," He chuckled.
"Okay- I meant it like..." Your thumb was tapping on his raised skin, "I needed a distraction. You know I was struggling. He really was sweet. I know I should've treated him better."
It was clear that there was no hero to the story. You were all flawed, to some degree. Osamu's hand returned to yours. This time, he squeezed.
"You know I don't judge you for that."
All things considered, that break-up was still fresh. It was only briefly before your graduation date.
"Hey-," He reached up to turn your head towards him. It was a bit much and left you both warm and fidgety, "You know that I know that you're a good person."
His hand fell to your forearm.
It was fleeting, but you felt an energy between you. It was different. It filled that space in your heart you'd long since carved out for him.
Fleeting must be reiterated, because it was gone in an instant as he cleared his throat and stood, collecting the dishes in one trip with skill you could only attribute to the nature of his work.
You chugged the rest of your wine with a shudder so it wouldn't go to waste and skittered after his swift movement towards the kitchen.
If there was any place in the house that didn't feel lifeless, it was the kitchen. Spacious and clean, sure, but every tool and appliance here was cared for and used often.
It distracted you to slow down.
There was a level of respect you felt was necessary for a space so important to Osamu.
He began washing the dishes.
"Please let me do something," You begged from behind him.
All you got was a stoic head shake.
You leaned on the countertop behind him, staring at his back in that clean, black shirt. Would you ever get over him?
His words and actions from tonight turned over in your head. That hug you shared yesterday afternoon made your hands slip from the counter.
It may have been the wine that inspired your resolve to actually follow through, but your motivation did have years of pent-up desire behind it.
His body stiffened at the feeling of your arms around his waist, the side of your face pressed against his warm back. He smelled like a woody, musky cologne.
"Thank you," You muttered, mostly for his kind words, but its roots extended much farther than just recent events.
The sound of the water shutting off encouraged you to loosen your grip. The doubt started settling in as he dried his hands with a hanging towel, wordless.
His hands just barely grazed yours as you retracted, heart racing at the fact that you couldn't take that back.
He turned around to face you. Your eyes were busy avoiding his, so you were taken by surprise when he leaned down to pick you up from the waist.
It was just as easy and comfortable as the first time-- his shoulders spacious enough to bury yourself in, his hold so secure you didn't have to spare any strength holding on. He could support you all day.
A breathy groan, like he was a settling house, brushed your ear and sent tingles down your spine.
He set you down, but guided your arms to stay around his neck. You looked back and forth between his eyes, no longer unsure about his feelings.
"I missed you so much."
He was a clumsy kisser, but you didn't mind.
His hands were skilled and sure. It was more than enough to make up for his hungrier, rather than soft kisses.
One kept you steady by the back of your head, the other taking up your entire shoulder to guide you backwards against the kitchen island.
He rendered you breathless quickly- you pulled away for just a moment and he took it as a good sign to lift you up onto the countertop.
No part of you questioned this intense show of affection-- it felt like a fitting release of years-long tension and unspoken feelings.
They still remained unspoken, for the most part, but it could wait.
His hips pushed hard against your own, eliciting a soft, fluttery sound against his mouth.
He ate it up, wanting another so bad that one hand grabbed at the bend in your hip and thigh to keep you against him.
Your tummy twisted in a mixture of delightful pleasure and desire, everything below your waist all giddy and jittery as his fingers squeezed your hips with a need you never knew he was harboring.
Thighs trembling with nerves, his steady grasp pushing down helped to calm and stall you. You caught your breath with your forehead pressed against his. You unhooked your legs.
"W-hat?" You swallowed, praying to God this wasn't some mistake.
His wine-flushed face answered your question with no response.
"We shouldn't...I'm not--," He bit his cheek at his own restraint, brow tight with regret at his own actions from earlier.
You nodded, a little buzzed yourself, and laughed at his concern, "I'm okay with just kissing."
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Hide and Seek
In the mortal world, when I thought you were my enemy, I still missed you." "My sweet nemesis, how glad I am that you returned."
"Aye! Before you hide, tell me," he asked, curiosity in his voice. "The sniper you bought has a long range. Why'd ya need that? I mean, y'could have got a short range one."
"You'll know soon enough," I replied with a wink. "I'm gonna hide now."
With that, I turned and ran towards the back, adrenaline pumping as I searched for the perfect hiding spot.
I made my way towards the back, realizing that hiding inside the mansion wouldn't be a good idea. "Underground parking," I decided, throwing my slippers into the bushes and quietly making my way to the entrance.
I reached the end of the stairs, and the parking area was brightly lit with hundreds of LED lights on the ceiling. A line of exotic cars stretched out before me, mostly sports cars, offering no suitable hiding spots beneath them.
At the last spot, I saw my G-Wagon. "Yes!" I exclaimed softly, running over and lying under the car.
I giggled to myself, confident that Ghost would assume I was hiding somewhere inside the mansion. He would have no idea that I was here, tucked away under a car.
I waited and waited. Fifteen minutes had passed, and my anticipation was starting to give way to nervous excitement.
Suddenly, I heard footsteps approaching downstairs.
"Luvvie!" Ghost called out.
"Love!" he called again, playfully.
"I know you're here. C'mon out," he said.
I saw his boots as he methodically checked the interiors of the cars through their windows, one by one. I couldn't stop giggling, so I put my hand over my mouth to stifle the sound. The thrill of being so close yet hidden added to the excitement of the game.
"C'mon out, love," he chuckled. "You're in here, innit?" he called, his voice echoing slightly in the underground parking.
He then approached the G-Wagon and took a look inside.
"Not here too. C'mon, where are you, luvvie?" he asked again, sounding amused and slightly puzzled.
I held my breath, trying to remain completely silent, my heart racing as he stood so close. The thrill of almost being found made the moment even more exhilarating.
"Don't play these little games with me, eh?" he said, his voice tinged with playful warning. "Choices have consequences."
"Okay! I'm going out. You come out when you feel like," he added, and I saw him heading back to the stairs.
I sighed in relief and relaxed, laying there for a moment, thinking I'd won this round. But knowing Ghost, I stayed vigilant, expecting the unexpected.
I waited another five minutes, and just as I decided to emerge, the lights went out with a low hum.
My breath caught in my throat, and my heart began to race. I was alone in the parking lot, now enveloped in an impenetrable darkness. The silence was profound, and the shadows seemed to close in around me, amplifying the suspense and excitement of the game.
The darkness and deafening silence freaked me out. I knew it was him—he had switched off the lights. With no other choice, I slowly slipped out from beneath the car.
I had no idea where I was because everything was pitch black. Disoriented, I tried to find my bearings, feeling the walls as I moved cautiously through the inky void.
My hands touched the bonnet of the car, and I recognized it, giving me a hint of my location. Slowly, I used it as a guide, inching my way towards what I hoped was the exit. The familiarity of the car provided a small comfort amidst the overwhelming darkness.
A sudden rush of fear caught me, and I stood still where I was. My breath quickened, and I strained to hear any sound in the oppressive silence. The darkness felt even more suffocating, and I couldn't shake the feeling that Ghost was somewhere close, watching me.
I closed my eyes, straining to hear any noise coming my way. All I could hear was breathing.
His breathing.
From a distance, it grew louder and closer with each passing second. My heart pounded in my chest as the anticipation and fear mingled, creating a thrilling tension in the pitch-black parking lot.
There were no footsteps, only the sound of his breaths growing closer. He got nearer until he stood directly behind me, his body pressing against mine like a solid brick wall. Heat radiated from him, warming my back.
My heart pounded in my chest. He leaned in, his masked lips grazing my neck.
"Gotcha, luvvie!" he whispered in my ear.
Slowly, I turned around to face him. In the pitch-black darkness, only the skull of his mask was visible, shining eerily.
"Now, I'll take what's mine," his thick British voice echoed.
"And what exactly is that?" I whispered, my voice trembling with anticipation.
"You," he replied, the single word resonating with possessive intensity.
"So, is it your room or mine?" he asked, his voice dripping with playful menace.
I tried to run, but he swiftly wrapped his hands around my arms, pulling me towards him. My back hit his solid chest, and with effortless strength, he lifted me onto his shoulder.
I couldn't help but giggle. "Si-Simon!" I laughed, the thrill of the moment making me giddy.
"Laugh as much as you can, love," he said while carrying me upstairs. His grip was firm yet gentle, and the rhythm of his steps was steady. My giggles echoed through the house, mingling with the excitement and anticipation of what was to come.
He opened the door to his room and closed it with a push of his foot. Gently, he set me down on the bed and stood before me, his imposing figure silhouetted against the dim light. The atmosphere was charged with an electrifying intensity, and I could feel the anticipation building between us.
I stood up and walked towards the dresser, where I saw his lighter and a cigarette box. I turned on the lighter and began to light the scented candles arranged around the room. Their warm, soothing scent soon enveloped the space, creating an intimate and tranquil atmosphere.
He came to me and gently held my hand, guiding me to the mirror. Standing behind me, his towering and broad frame made me look even smaller in comparison. His eyes were fixed on my reflection in the mirror.
"Look at you. Pretty little thing," he murmured, leaning in and resting his chin on my shoulder. His breath was warm against my skin.
"What did I do to deserve you?" he asked, his arms wrapping securely around my tiny waist, pulling me closer. The intimacy of the moment was overwhelming, filling me with a deep sense of connection and affection.
My knees felt weak with him so close. I could feel his growing arousal pressing at my lower back through the think silk fabric of my slip dress. The heat between us was palpable, and the anticipation made my heart race even faster.
"I laid my eyes on you, and I need you, Ghost," I whispered, turning my face towards him. Our faces were merely inches apart, his masked visage veiled in shadow. The intensity of our proximity sent a shiver down my spine, and I could feel the raw desire building between us.
"Even after coming to know what I do? Who I am?" he whispered in my ear, his voice heavy with the weight of his confession. "I am a killer. I kill people. I have blood on my hands."
He looked at my face in the mirror and showed me his gloved hands which I gently held in mine interwining his fingers with mine.
"You do it for your country, not for your own satisfaction. I only know you as my protector, who doesn't care about his life but mine," I added, my words filled with understanding and acceptance. Despite the darkness of his past, I saw the light within him, the unwavering dedication to his duty and the love he held for me.
"You do what is right. You get your hands dirty so that the world stays clean. You are the bravest soul I know," I said, turning around to look into his eyes.
In that moment, I saw not just the man behind the mask, but the hero who sacrificed everything for the greater good.
My admiration for him only grew stronger, knowing the depth of his convictions and the sacrifices he made for others.
"Everything that comes near me gets destroyed. I'm afraid I will end up destroying you too," he said, his voice tinged with sorrow and fear.
I reached out and gently cupped his face in my hands, looking deeply into his eyes. "You've already shown me more love and protection than I ever thought possible. And I'm willing to stand by your side, no matter what challenges come our way. Together, we can face anything," I reassured him.
I gazed into his eyes, my heart overflowing with love and longing. "I want you to make me yours, mark me, hide me from the world," I confessed, laying bare my deepest desires.
In that moment, I yearned for nothing more than to be wholly his, to be enveloped in his love and protection, shielded from the harshness of the outside world.
He touched his forehead to mine, and his words resonated in the quiet space between us. "All the women who came into my life were just a one-night stand. I never thought any woman would fall in love with me, but you," he paused, his voice filled with emotion, "you are still untouched."
"I want to devour you, but once I start, I cannot stop. But I will never hurt you," he confessed, his vulnerability laying bare the depths of his desire and the weight of his past. In that moment, I understood the gravity of his words and the sincerity of his intentions.
Tears welled up in my eyes, my breath becoming shaky as emotions overwhelmed me. My lips quivered with the intensity of my longing. "I just want you. I need you right now," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper.
My heart pounding with anticipation and desire, knowing that in that moment, I was ready to surrender myself completely to him.
"If loving you means my destruction then let it be."
"I love you Simon." I said.
Full story on Wattpad.
Part 1 on Tumblr.
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hi, tripoier here! Long text incoming alert and a detailed explanation of the situation for qsmpblr (also sorry if I make some typos I'm writing without translator)
Yeah I also saw what happened today with the og admin of Pepito and I have a lot to say about it. First of all I'm not speaking in behalf of the community but I'm my own experience of the situation. I watched the development of Pepito's story since day one and fell in love with that little guy (and his laggy PC). Then second day arrived and I noticed the admin change bc he was less laggy and I've learned enough Portuguese and 07's (Richas admin) mannerisms to recognize when he's playing a character, even Roier noticed but didn't say anything until the screencap incident lol
Few day passed and 07 created such a cute and wholesome personality for Pepito, that contrasted very well with the role that roier was having at the moment— that it's understandable that it may not be too comfortable for some people but for the ones that had been watching Roier's story in the server + his relationship with Bobby, we take it with humor/hope for him to heal slowly after what happened in Purgatory and with Bobby (and believe me, Bobby had a HUGE impact on how Roier behaved with the rest of he eggs after his death)
So during the days 07 played as Pepito all the tripoiers were in this state of hope because we knew how much q!Roier was trying hard to not to get attached to Pepito, he knew the moment something happens to him he was gonna suffer A LOT, and Pepito was this pure, innocent ray of sunshine that it was imposible for us not to love immediately (Roier also did from day one but he loved to play with us + his lore at the moment was being in depression for the lost of his husband and having Richas and Leo in their comatose state). Also, is worth to mention that after he discovered it was 07 the one playing as Pepito he became more playful and started to tease him just to make him go out of role (and succeeded one time). Which is why he used the chancla a lot with him, as a shield for the feelings that were starting to grow on him again.
Then, Otipep happened.
This is the part I'm gonna be more careful to explain bc there is a language barrier that for the people who don't have Spanish as their first language they cannot understand or got confused
When Otipep appeared Roier noticed that it was another admin playing as Pepito because 07 was busy helping with Q's lore, we don't know if he recognized immediately that it was the original one or just a random temporary admin, but he noticed that this Pepito appeared where the fist one disconnected (in the garden outside of his house). Some people noticed that it was the original one and got happy bc it meaned that finally Pepito had his permanently admin back and bc Richas and the others eggs were also back from the coma we could see them both at the same time (roier used to joke about it every time 07 was around)
We also thought that the og admin had been catching up with the role that 07 has built so far with Pepito (which was not, and we would never know if it was either miscommunication between the admins or the og admin just decided to ignore the actual role to keep their 'idea' for the role), so at first we were a little bit shocked when this Pepito started acting so "dry" (idk if this is the correct word) with Roier, bc we had already gotten used to Pepito's tender way of speaking, but we just let that pass for a bit.
But then that "dry" behavior started going to go down a path were even we as an audience started getting uncomfortable, because roier was trying to socialize with the admin but they clearly didn't knew what's has been going on these past days, so Roier take the time to make a summary of the last days with his typical chill humor, and while he was doing that everything reached its final point with the sign "hueles a culo también hijo de puta" = you also smell like ass son of a bitch.
now This. THIS right here is what destroyed everything. Because you would say "oh, it's just Pepito following Roier's game, it's was in a playful way".
No.
It. was. not.
When Roier starts calling someone with some swears or related words is always in a playful way, and there is context and trust behind. When Otipep put that sign Roier was making a summary of the role that 07 has been doing with Pepito, bc he didn't wanted to let them behind, and while doing that he always explain with his usual humor to make it less unconformable for the admin/ entertained for his audience.
So when he placed that sign we all get out of the loop because it came from nowhere, even Roier kept silence of a few second because 1). it sounded rude, that sign was so out of place 2). Roier was explaining the last few days to the admin so he can keep up with the role, he was not "joking" with the admin, or moving on to another topic, he was helping the admin. 3). We, as an audience, felt so shocked because they weren't saying that to Roier in a playful way, they were giving weight to those words. And this is the part that people that do not have Spanish as their first language doesn't understand. They gave weight to the insult. They didn't wrote that as a joke, they directly INSULTED the streamer.
Then roier proceeded to hit him with the chancla bc he wanted to take the control back of the situation in a humorous way, a damage control in other words, because the chat was filling with "??????" And people getting offended and angry (justified, even I felt offended) with the admin, but Roier is not of those type of persons and he always try to make his streams a safe place for his community, so if you ask me he did a really well job handling the situation even tho he felt offended and his audience noticed that for the rest of the stream (hell, even days later)
And if that was not enough, Roier kept trying to save the situation but the admin was not cooperating, with the "no he preguntado"= I've not asked you and other sign that I just don't remember and is not really worth it (and bc Otipep literally left Roier speaking alone with the "I'm going to look for better parents" and went to spawn zone), he just gave up trying and waited for Richas to come back (which was also chocked w the situation)
And this is me speaking from a non-neutral tone, but I think we could've had a Roier being super loving and caring with Pepito if this situation didn't happen in the first place, bc after this I noticed that Roier stopped tried to get close to Pepito, the situation really affected him so whatever role he was building with the character he just simply stopped and changed the dynamic with another one more limited and less parental, but keeping his usual humor bc it was not the fault of the actual admin or 07, it is what it is unfortunately.
That's why I'm so glad that the actual admin and Ricardão did such a good job saving Pepito because the Spanish speaking community was about to drop him, even streamers friends of Roier that are not part of the qsmp acknowledge the behavior of Otipep with Roier (if that doesn't say a lot about how complicated it was on this side of the road)
And even after all these things there was people out there calling the Spanish speaking community as dramatic or harassing Roier when the situation happened (and it seems they still do it :/ ), but most of us kept quiet because we respect Roier and as he says, mejor pasamos de movidas.
and well, this is it, I know I'm missing some points in the story but honestly getting into fights or hate in general is not my thing, I wanted to give some context for the people of Tumblr because I know, at least here people take the time to read and are more chill unlike twt, and I hope I gave some clarification for the rest of the communities that are not native in Spanish, I really really love Pepito and I'm so glad we had 07 and the actual admin there to play this character, I still can't believe that person had the audacity to come out proudly as Pepito's 1st admin when literally no one from the Spanish community considers his 2 appereances as canon after their blunder xd
Thank you for sharing!
I understand that some stuff are hard to translate, thank you for taking the time. I didn't know that your community was being called dramatic because of that! That is dumb as hell and I am sorry it happend in the first place.
Of course we are no in business of spreading hate. I have always tried to see the other side of situations, I think from what I read in the admin's doc they had some kinda of vision for the character, but I guess they didn't realized that well, they were not going to become automaticly friends with Roier and have room to "joke" like that just because they have become an egg admin. Probably my best guest of what it happend.
It is really weird, maybe they were banking on the support that the other admins have gotten? Or they actually never realized how insulting they have come out as.
Well, I don't have much to say, except I am sorry it happend at all with Roier and the hispanic community.
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