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saatorus · 2 months ago

Text

cyberboy come home to me!

art credits: @musapylsa

synopsis — you just really love shy, nerdy, awkward armin arlert. not to mention how much you adore his tongue piercing.

wc — 5.4k

warnings — oral (f receiving), brief m receiving oral, unprotected sex, dom! kinda reader? armin is a loser virgin, tongue piercing fixation, mentions of drinking and getting high.

“Ah… I’m not sure if we should be— mmph!”

Armin downright whimpers when you silence his protest with a soft giggle and press your lips to his again, cupping his cheek like you’re trying to ease him into it. He kisses back, but it’s clumsy—his lips too hesitant, his breath shaky. The way his slightly clammy hands tremble as they slide awkwardly onto your waist gives him away completely. His fingers twitch like he’s unsure if he’s even allowed to touch you, like he’s expecting to be jolted awake from some perverse fever dream at any second.

You smile into it. He tastes a little like fruit punch and nerves.

How’d he even end up like this?

Honestly? He’s not entirely sure himself.

All he knows is that about an hour ago, he’d been forcibly dragged out of his safe, sacred little sanctuary—his room—by none other than Eren Jaeger, who’d called him a “shut-in loser” with all the affection of a lifelong best friend trying to get his social recluse ass to touch grass for once. “Just come out for one night,” Eren had said. “You never hang out anymore. You just rot in front of that stupid computer!”

That “stupid computer,” by the way, is the love of Armin’s life. A lovingly hand-built, high-performance rig that he’d spent months putting together with trembling excitement and a YouTube tab permanently open. The tower is pure art—transparent case with perfectly routed cable management, cool-toned RGB fans that change hues with each temperature spike, and a custom water-cooling loop that keeps everything running quieter than a whisper. The inside glows in a soft gradient from blue to violet, illuminating every pristine component like a spaceship console. His mechanical keyboard clicks satisfyingly under his fingers, each custom PBT keycap matte and worn in just enough. The desk is outfitted with dual curved monitors, a steelseries headset perched on a 3D-printed stand, and a carefully arranged line of anime figurines—each one dusted weekly.

He lives there. He thrives there. Not out here.

So when he’d first stepped foot into the frat house—blinking under dim purple lights, instantly accosted by the stench of sweat, alcohol, Axe body spray, and weed—he’d wanted to turn and run. Connie had looped an arm around his neck before he could so much as take a step back, dragging him further inside like a lamb to slaughter.

He would’ve given anything to be home. Back at his setup. Back where he could peacefully queue up for League of Legends or post a hot take on a message board about dungeon tier lists. His teammates were probably on Discord right now, wondering why his little green light hadn’t turned on tonight.

That was then.

Somehow– Somehow, in the haze of being drunk or high out of their minds— Eren was out of it, Connie was asleep on Sasha’s lap, whose head was on a knocked out Jean’s shoulder. Mikasa, for how composed she usually was, was slumped next to Eren, his hand wrapped around hers— you had managed to finally snag the shy boy to yourself.

You’d only recently started hanging out with the gang, weaving your way into their circle with a kind of natural confidence Armin found both mesmerizing and terrifying. You’re funny. Loud in a charming way. You speak your mind, talk to Eren and Mikasa like you’ve known them for years, and make sly little jokes that leave Connie wheezing. Even Sasha likes you—and she doesn’t like anyone new.

But around you, Armin turns into scrambled code. He avoids eye contact. Stumbles over his words. Does that thing where he pushes up his glasses like a reflex even when they’re already in place.

And it wasn’t hard to realize that Armin liked you.

He wasn’t subtle—not in the way he’d glance up from his phone screen when you laughed a little too loudly, or the way his ears would burn pink every time you plopped down next to him during hangouts, hips brushing, thighs touching just barely. He'd sit there stiffly, eyes wide behind his glasses, thumbs still tapping away at whatever gacha game or tactics RPG he was grinding, pretending not to notice how your perfume clung to the air between you like static.

You’d catch him staring sometimes—well, more than sometimes. Once when you bent over to grab a charger, and again when you wore that cropped shirt with the worn-out neckline, his gaze getting stuck right where your collarbone dipped into something just a bit more scandalous. But he’d always look away just in time, pretending to clean his glasses or scroll deeper into Reddit threads.

The boy was practically a walking Tumblr post from 2013. Always in those oversized hoodies with the sleeves too long, fingers tucked halfway into the cuffs, his laptop stickers flaking off from years of aggressive clicking. His room, as you’d come to discover later, was nothing short of a digital command center. Dual monitors—one vertical, one horizontal—cast a cold RGB glow over his unmade bed and tangle of charging cables. His mechanical keyboard clicked loud enough to echo through the dorm floor, each keystroke deliberate. Rows of Funko Pops lined the top of his bookshelf, mostly anime characters and one out-of-place Miku figurine he shyly claimed was "cute."

And that chair—God, that chair. It was one of those ridiculous ergonomic gaming thrones with a headrest, a lumbar support pillow, and armrests that he always adjusted like he was gearing up for war. You could tell it was his pride and joy, considering how he refused to let anyone else sit in it. Except, of course, for that one time you snuck in during a group hangout and plopped down in it just to see how far he’d go before breaking—he just stood there, mouth open, shifting awkwardly until he gave up and sat on the floor beside you. Pathetic. Adorable.

So yeah, it wasn’t hard to realize Armin liked you. He was just painfully obvious about it in a way that made you all the more obsessed.

Especially after that day Eren—loud-mouthed, smug Eren—dropped the most shocking bit of information mid-conversation over nachos and beer.

“Guess who finally let me bully him into getting a tongue piercing?”

Your head had snapped around so fast it almost gave you whiplash. "You're kidding."

Eren had just grinned like the devil himself. “Nope. Took him to the place on 8th. Cried like a bitch but hey, he’s got it now.”

You’d turned to look at Armin, who was red as a tomato, sipping his Sprite like he wished he could disappear behind the carbonation. He didn’t even deny it.

You haven't been able to stop thinking about it since.

Which brings you to now.

So when all of a sudden, you're sitting next to him on the too-small couch, murmuring something about there being something wrong with your phone, and desperately needing someone to fix it for you, and no, the dim lighting of the living room simply isn’t enough to inspect it properly—you somehow manage to drag him upstairs to one of the empty rooms, thigh pressed a little too close to his as you explain how glitchy your phone is, how you're so sure it must be some kind of weird virus, and wow, isn't that so crazy?

But cut the bullshit. Even Armin knew you were lying.

Phone glitching? Yeah, right. He’d seen your screen time stats by accident once—your camera roll was 95% front-facing selfies, memes, and blurry videos from nights out. He wasn’t stupid. But he was clueless—at least about your intentions.

You’d had a thing for him since day one, not that he knew, obviously. The first time Eren had pulled you into the fold, dragging you into their little friend group like some shiny new accessory, Armin had looked at you like you’d be gone by next week. He wasn’t good with new people—too shy, too stiff, too used to lurking in the background with his legs folded crisscross on the floor and his thumbs tapping away at his phone while everyone else drank and talked over each other.

Even now, when everyone hung out, Armin would be half-present—physically there, tucked into the corner of the room with his hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands, but mentally god knows where. Probably grinding a mobile RPG or replying to a fan theory thread. He liked games where he could build things, micromanage every stat. His phone battery was always draining because he never stopped playing. Long, elegant fingers constantly moving, tapping, swiping. Even when you sat next to him, he couldn’t seem to stop. You once made a joke about how he probably tapped faster during battles than he would during sex.

You remember the way he’d choked on his Redbull.

But now—now he’s stuck. Sitting next to you in a quiet upstairs room, your perfume in his lungs, your thigh pressed right up against his, and your phone held limply between you both like some half-hearted prop.

He keeps glancing at you, lips parted like he wants to say something—anything—but nothing comes out.

“You gonna fix it or just keep staring at my lockscreen?” you tease, your voice low, syrupy sweet.

He blinks, startled, fumbling to grab the phone from your hands with a stuttered apology. “S-Sorry, I—um—yeah, let me just… check the settings, I guess.”

His hands shake slightly as he scrolls, and you bite your lip watching him. The way his jaw tenses, his brows furrow in concentration—it’s endearing. You wonder if he knows how flushed his ears are. You wonder if he knows how loud his breathing is.

You lean in just slightly, enough that your breath brushes the shell of his ear.

“You know,” you murmur, “I still haven’t seen that piercing.”

His entire body jolts. His fingers fumble the phone, almost dropping it in his lap. “W-What?”

You smile innocently, like you don’t already know exactly what you’re doing. “Your tongue. Eren told me. Kinda wanna see it for myself.”

Armin swallows hard, eyes wide as he looks at you like you just asked him to strip naked. “I-I mean, it’s not—It’s nothing, really. I-it’s just… uh…”

“C’mon,” you coax, fingers brushing the side of his knee. “I’m curious.”

He hesitates. Then, shakily, he sticks his tongue out just a little—just enough for the cool glint of metal to catch the light. Your stomach flips.

God, you didn’t expect that to be so hot. On him, of all people.

“You’re full of surprises, Armin Arlert,” you whisper, eyes meeting his.

And you swear to god, if you didn’t know better, you’d say the look in his eyes shifts. Just a little. Like something in him snaps or gives in. Like he’s done pretending he doesn’t know what’s going on.

“…Is your phone actually broken?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper.

You grin. “Not even a little.”

And for once—for once—Armin smirks.

It's crooked. Barely there. But it's smug in the quietest, most devastating way, because he knows now. You're not here because of some bullshit glitch or broken screen. You're here for him.

The second you lean in, brushing a strand of his blond hair out of his face, he freezes—like a deer caught in headlights. His breath hitches, lips parting just slightly, and his fingers tense where they’re still holding your phone like it’s a lifeline.

“You’ve never kissed anyone before,” you say softly, not a question. Just an observation.

His cheeks flush bright red. He doesn’t answer.

You cock your head, smiling. “That’s okay. I’ll teach you.”

His breath catches again, sharp and audible this time, and he shifts a little like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands—does he drop your phone? Hold it? Hold you?

You take the decision away for him, gently slipping it from his fingers and setting it down on the nightstand. Then, without breaking eye contact, you slowly slide onto his lap, one knee at a time, until you’re straddling his narrow hips, hands settling on his shoulders.

His whole body goes stiff. “Ah… I’m not sure if we should be— mmph!”

You kiss his lips again, silencing him effectively.

“Armin,” you say as you pull back, voice low and amused. “Relax.”

He doesn’t. Not entirely. But his hands hover awkwardly near your waist now, like he’s trying to be respectful, like he’s afraid if he touches you wrong, the moment will combust.

You lean forward, just enough that your noses nearly brush.

“Close your eyes,” you whisper. “Don’t think. Just feel.”

He obeys, lashes fluttering shut. You let your lips graze his, soft and tentative, barely a kiss at all—just enough for him to taste your breath, to feel the warmth of you against his mouth.

He shivers.

You pull back slightly, your voice like silk against his ear. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

He exhales shakily. “It’s… it’s good. You’re… good.”

You smile. “You haven’t even gotten the full lesson yet.”

And then you kiss him.

Really kiss him.

You press your mouth against his fully this time, slow and confident, your lips moving gently over his like you’ve got all the time in the world. He kisses back clumsily at first, a little too much pressure, a little off with the rhythm, but it’s adorable, and you can feel the way his whole body trembles under you.

You guide him with quiet murmurs between kisses. “Slower… softer, yeah… there. Just like that.”

His hands finally land on your waist, unsure at first, then a little firmer when you deepen the kiss, your fingers threading into the hair at the nape of his neck. You part your lips slowly, and when he instinctively mimics you—nervous, but curious—you feel it.

The smooth, cool ball of metal.

You pause just barely, lips still brushing his, a grin curling at the corners of your mouth. “There it is.”

“Huh?” he whispers, dazed.

“That piercing,” you murmur, voice thick with heat. “Feels so fucking good.”

You kiss him again, and this time your tongue finds his. The sensation of the cold stud sliding against yours sends a sharp little jolt straight through your spine. It’s addictive. You roll your hips slightly against his, and he gasps into your mouth, fingers tightening on your waist like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to pull you closer or push you away.

He tastes like mint and nervous energy, and the little helpless noises he lets out when you suck on his bottom lip are enough to make your thighs clench around his lap.

You pull back for a second, just to look at him. His lips are flushed, slightly swollen, eyes glazed with something between awe and pure panic.

“You okay?” you whisper, thumb brushing across his cheek.

He nods, almost too fast. “Y-Yeah. I just—I didn’t know it could feel like that.”

You lean in again, lips ghosting over his jaw. “That’s just the beginning.”

He groans—actually groans—and it’s the hottest fucking sound you’ve ever heard from him. You swear you feel him twitch beneath you. His hips shift slightly, involuntarily, and the friction makes both of you gasp.

You grab a fistful of his hoodie, tugging him back into another kiss, messier this time. Less structured. All tongue and heat and shallow breaths. That piercing catches on your lip as you suck on his tongue, and you moan softly against his mouth.

He's kissing you like he wants to prove something now. Still hesitant, still learning, but eager. Hungry. His hands slide up under your shirt, still shy but bolder than before, fingertips ghosting over the bare skin of your waist.

You roll your hips against him again, deliberately this time, and the noise he makes—somewhere between a whimper and a curse—goes straight to your core.

You smile into the kiss, breathless. “You’re such a quick learner.”

He swallows thickly. “I—I wanna keep learning.”

“Yeah?” You rock against him again, and his eyes flutter shut. “You will.”

You dip your head to press a kiss to his neck, right below his jaw. He gasps, tilting his head back like it’s instinct, and you suck a slow, wet mark into the pale skin, making him jolt beneath you.

“You’re so sensitive,” you whisper. “Bet I could make you fall apart with just my mouth.”

He whimpers.

And fuck, that sound does something to you.

You're grinding against him now, fully, the heat between your legs pressing right against the growing bulge in his pants. The way his hips buck up helplessly, like he can’t stop himself, is intoxicating.

You mouth at his jaw, then his ear, letting your breath tickle the shell of it.

“Armin,” you purr, “do you want me to show you more?”

He looks up at you like he’s ready to beg.

“Yes,” he breathes. “Please. Show me everything.”

You don’t make him ask twice.

You kiss him again, deep and slow, feeling the way he melts into it now. No hesitation—just heat, want, and the softest desperation in how his mouth opens for you like he’s starving. You taste that metal ball again, glide your tongue along it, and the sound he makes—fuck, you’re obsessed.

Your hips move instinctively, grinding down on his lap, and you can feel him. Hard. Pressed right up against your core through his worn out jeans and your shorts. The friction draws a moan from your throat that has his eyes fluttering open, pupils blown wide.

“Fuck,” you whisper, forehead pressed to his. “You’re so hard already.”

He nods, frantic, breath stuttering. “I—yeah, I can’t—I didn’t mean to—”

“Shh.” You cup his jaw, tilt his face up. “Don’t be embarrassed. You think I didn’t want that?”

You shift just a little, rolling your hips down with purpose, dragging your clothed pussy against his cock. He chokes on a gasp, his fingers digging into your waist like he’s trying to stop himself from bucking up into you again. You grab his hand, beckoning him to slip his fingers under your shorts, under the waistband of your panties.

“Feel how wet I am for you?” you murmur, lips brushing his ear.

He nods again, helpless. “Yeah—yeah, I feel it—fuck—”

You smile wickedly and grab the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head in one motion. His mouth drops open.

He stares.

Hard.

Like he’s short-circuiting. Like he’s never seen anyone naked before and can’t figure out where to look. His hands twitch like he wants to touch you but doesn’t know if he’s allowed.

You guide them to your tits.

“Touch me, baby,” you say softly. “It’s okay. You can.”

He swallows hard and palms your breasts gently, reverently, like he’s afraid to squeeze too hard. His thumbs ghost over your nipples and you sigh, arching your back into his touch, giving him a show.

“God, you’re perfect,” he breathes.

“You’re cute,” you reply, pushing your hips down again. “And obedient.”

He whimpers at that.

You roll your hips slow and steady, grinding on him until you feel his thighs start to tremble beneath you.

Then you lean down, lips brushing his. “I want you to eat me out.”

His eyes widen. “I—what? I’ve never—”

“I’ll guide you. Just do what I say.”

You’re already sliding off his lap, standing between his legs and shimmying your shorts and underwear down in one motion. His breath stutters when he sees you like that, bare and dripping, your thighs glistening in the low light.

You make a move to lie back on the bed, but he stops you, pink in the face.

“S–Sorry, I– ah– Can you ride my face? Please?”

He looks like he wants to wipe his existence off the planet because why’d he say that in such a high pitched tone, why’d he stutter like that, why’d his voice crack when he said please, why'd he—

But you just giggle amusedly, pushing him back onto the bed, straddling his face.

His whole body tenses like he’s trying not to combust. “Are you sure you’re okay with thi—?”

You don’t answer. Just lower your hips slowly until you’re hovering just above his mouth.

“Open up.”

He does, and when your pussy presses against his lips, you sigh like it’s relief. He’s clumsy at first—licking too shallow, too soft—but you guide him. “Use your tongue. Flatten it—yeah, just like that. A little harder. Good. Fuck, Armin.”

The moment his tongue finds your clit, you moan, your hips jolting forward. And the pressure of that cold little ball dragging against your most sensitive spot?

It’s over.

You’re grinding on his face now, fingers buried in his soft blond hair, riding him through sloppy, wet licks and messy kisses that leave your thighs shaking. He moans beneath you, hands gripping your hips like he’s into it, like the taste of you is something he wants to memorize. His piercing continuously flicks against your clit, making you whine and shudder, thighs clamping around his head. And soon enough, you’re coming all over his tongue, his name leaving your mouth prettily.

He’s hard again—probably never stopped being hard—and when you finally can’t take it anymore, you slide down his body and palm him through his jeans.

“Fuck,” you breathe, eyes wide as you feel the outline of him. “You’ve been hiding this from me?”

He covers his face with one arm, flushed and overwhelmed. “I didn’t know I’d get like that so fast.”

“You’re adorable.” You lean down and press a kiss just above his waistband. “Let me take care of you.”

He whimpers again.

And when you tug his jeans down, his cock bounces free—hard, flushed, leaking at the tip. You stroke him once, slow and firm, and his whole body jolts.

“Oh my god,” he chokes, hands fisting the sheets. “I—I don’t think I can—”

“You can.” You kiss the head of his cock, swirl your tongue around it just once, and watch him squirm.

Then you straddle him again.

“Wait—” he gasps. “Are you—are we really—”

You line him up with your entrance, slow and steady, and you moan when the tip slips in.

“Fuck yes, baby,” you whisper, eyes fluttering shut as you sink down inch by inch. “You’re inside me.”

He’s panting, chest rising and falling like he’s about to pass out. “You feel… holy shit…”

“Tight?” you tease, grinding down once you’re seated fully.

He nods, eyes wide, mouth open. “I’m not gonna last—”

“You’ll learn,” you murmur, starting to move. “I’m gonna teach you everything.”

And as you ride him—slow, deliberate, dragging every sweet sound out of him—you know for a fact that this won’t be the last lesson. You bounce up and down on him, watching with a gaze full of lust and amusement as he croons your name, head thrown back, drool escaping the side of his lip, thick glasses askew.

He looks like he’s unraveling. Like his brain stopped functioning five minutes ago. Like all he can focus on is the way your cunt squeezes him every time you drop down.

“F-Fuck, you feel so good,” he whimpers, voice cracking with raw need. “I c-can’t… I’m not gonna last…”

You lean forward, letting your chest brush against his, your lips brushing his mouth as you whisper, “That’s okay. Just give it to me.”

His hands are shaking where they grip your hips, but he tries to match your rhythm anyway, pulling you down harder every time your ass slaps against his thighs. He’s trying so hard to keep it together for you—sweet, trembling thing, so eager to please despite how close he is.

“I–I’m gonna– I’m gonna– I don’t have a condom on, I—”

“Don’t worry,” you murmur, kissing the edge of his jaw, tongue flicking over his pulse point. “Just pull out, baby. I’ve got you.”

And it’s like your voice alone is enough to break him.

His grip tightens—frantic, bruising—and you barely have time to lift off before he comes, gasping your name like a prayer. Thick ropes spill over his stomach, twitching cock pulsing as he groans and writhes beneath you, flushed and utterly wrecked. His glasses have slid halfway down his nose, and he’s too dazed to fix them.

You exhale through a low laugh, trailing your fingers through his release before bringing them to your mouth and sucking them clean, just to tease him. His breath stutters at the sight, and his eyes roll slightly as he pants beneath you.

You collapse next to him, both of you catching your breath in the quiet, sticky air. The room smells like sweat and sex and faint body spray, and outside the door you can still hear the low thrum of party music, muffled now like the two of you are in a different world entirely.

He’s quiet. Still. Hands awkwardly covering himself, glasses pushed to the side. You catch the way his lashes flutter, how red his cheeks are, how he refuses to meet your eyes.

You turn on your side, resting your head on one hand. “What’s wrong?”

He swallows hard. “That was my first time,” he says softly. “Like… all of it. Kissing, sex, everything.”

You pause, the weight of his admission settling into the space between you. He glances up at you finally, face filled with anxiety.

“I… I hope I didn’t disappoint you.”

Your heart aches a little.

You reach out and gently remove his glasses, setting them on the nightstand, then cradle his face in your hand.

“Armin,” you say, voice low and sincere, “that was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced. You have no idea.”

He blinks, surprised.

“You were perfect,” you say, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his forehead. “And I like that it was me. I like being the first.”

His face turns even redder, if that’s possible. “I–I didn’t even know what I was doing.”

“That’s the fun part.” You smile, brushing a strand of his hair off his forehead. “Means I get to teach you everything.”

He hides his face against your shoulder, groaning. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You laugh softly, wrapping your arm around his waist. “You’re such a cutie.”

You lay there together in the silence for a while, his head nestled against your chest, his arms tentatively curling around you like he’s not sure he’s allowed to hold you yet. You run your fingers through his hair, gently tugging here and there, and you feel him relax more and more under your touch.

“You still nervous?” you murmur after a while.

“A little,” he admits, voice muffled. “I just… I’ve never done this. Any of it. I don’t want to mess things up with you.”

You kiss the top of his head. “You’re not. I like you.”

He lifts his head to look at you, shy but hopeful. “Really?”

“Mhm.” You brush your lips against his again. “I’ve liked you since I saw you trailing behind Eren with your stupid oversized hoodie and your Switch in your hands like you were allergic to human interaction.”

He laughs, sheepish. “I kind of am.”

You grin. “And I kind of love that.”

He watches you for a moment, eyes soft and a little awestruck. Then he leans forward, kisses you with all the gentleness and hesitance of someone who’s just now realizing he might be falling for someone, and you smile into it, warm and full and smug.

Because you know you’ve got him.

—

It’s official now. You’re Armin’s girlfriend.

It had happened somewhere between all the blushing kisses and stolen glances and slow, breathy I like you’s whispered in the privacy of his bedroom. There was no dramatic confession, no rose petals or fireworks. Just him looking at you one afternoon with that overwhelmed, adoring gaze, thumb brushing over your knuckles while he mumbled, “Do you, um… want to be mine? Like… officially?”

And you’d kissed him stupid in response.

So now, two weeks later, you’re at his place again, perched sideways on his lap in his gaming chair, legs draped over one armrest while his are stretched beneath the desk, twitching slightly every time something exciting happens on screen.

You’re wearing one of his hoodies—big, soft, and smelling like fabric softener and his shampoo—and nothing else underneath. Which he hasn’t noticed. Yet.

His focus is laser-sharp, blue eyes narrowed behind his glasses, tongue pressed to the corner of his mouth like he’s fighting for his life on whatever boss battle he’s got going. You shift a little, trying to get comfortable in his lap, but he doesn’t even flinch—just grunts something about “just give me a second, babe, I’m in the middle of something.”

And yeah, it’s a little infuriating. But also?

Ridiculously hot.

Like, his headset is way too big on him. He keeps muttering things under his breath about cooldowns and mechanics and DPS output. His fingers are flying across the keys, long and elegant and twitchy, like they were built to type essays at the speed of sound or code random passion projects no one ever asked for.

At one point, he actually shushes you. A little breathy “waitwaitwait– babe, hold on, this guy’s cheesing—oh my god I swear to god if this fucking healer dies I’m gonna—”

You blink. Then snort.

“You’re so nerdy,” you murmur, voice laced with amusement, “I can’t believe this is my boyfriend.”

He doesn’t look up. “You knew what I was when you signed up.”

“Oh, I did.” You lean in, dragging your fingers up the nape of his neck, just under the headset. “And I like it.”

He shudders a little. “You’re distracting me.”

“I know.”

Still, he plays. Fidgety, intense, mouthing instructions to himself like some kind of adorable, socially anxious commander. You watch the screen for a bit, half-understanding what’s happening—some massive raid, particles flying everywhere, his team yelling in the Discord chat you can hear leaking through his headphones. Armin doesn’t talk much, but when he does, it’s surprisingly confident. Precise.

“No, back left! You kite, I’ll stun—good—shit, I got hit, that’s fine, I’ve got mana—”

You shift again. This time a little more deliberately.

His hands pause on the keyboard. “...Are you doing that on purpose?”

You blink at him innocently. “Doing what?”

“You’re… squirming.”

You tilt your head, smiling. “I’m just trying to sit comfortably, Armin. Your thighs are kinda bony.”

“I—what? I—”

He falters. And you know he’s starting to get flustered. Because his hand slips on his mouse, and he curses softly under his breath as his character takes a hit onscreen.

“Can’t believe I’m being insulted and sabotaged right now,” he mumbles.

“I’m your girlfriend,” you remind him, turning so you’re fully straddling him now, knees on either side of his hips, “it’s in the job description.”

He swallows thickly. You can feel him beneath you now—half-hard already, tension building the longer you stay in his lap.

“Please let me finish this fight,” he whispers, jaw tight.

You kiss the edge of it.

“Okay.”

So you wait. Sort of.

You shift again. Start pressing little kisses to his throat. Let your fingers toy with the edge of his shirt, lifting it just slightly. Not enough to distract him fully. Just enough to make him sweat.

By the time he finally mutters a breathless, “Got him, holy shit,” and slumps back in the chair, he’s panting and flushed—and not just from the game.

You lean in, both hands planted on his chest now, smiling sweetly.

“All done?”

He nods.

“Good.” And then you roll your hips once against his, slow and deliberate.

He makes a soft, broken sound in his throat. “Y-You’re evil.”

“Mmhm,” you hum, dipping down to kiss him again, this time deeper, tongue teasing the edge of that stupid metal piercing he still refuses to tell you the story behind.

It’s so easy to ruin him.

His hands flutter uselessly for a second before they land on your hips, gripping like he’s still not sure he’s allowed to touch you. You grind down harder, and he whines into your mouth, glasses fogging up, hips twitching like he’s not in control of his own body anymore.

“Fuck,” he breathes, voice high and shaking. “I’m—I was just trying to game.”

“You’ll live,” you whisper, licking into his mouth again. “Besides… I like seeing you like this. So desperate for me.”

He groans.

And you know right then, without a doubt, this little nerd is already obsessed with you. Completely and utterly whipped.

author's note: HELL YEAH I LOVE NERDIFYING ANIME MEN!!!! fantastic give me 14 more of them bzzzzz

seriously when i saw this fanart the first thing i did was open up google docs and get my ass to WORK i feel like by now its really obvious i have a thing for nerds :3

hope u guys #enjoyed i have a really bad tongue piercing fixation, not sure if it was obvious... (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ )

#armin arlert #nerd armin #armin aot #armin arlert x reader #armin smut #armin arlert x reader smut #aot smut #nerdmin #nerdmin x reader #nerdmin smut #armin x reader #aot fanfiction #snk armin #aot x reader #aot reader x reader smut

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thebestandworstdayofjune · 6 days ago

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the mother hen complex

summary: clark has a habit of spoiling you, even more so when you have a rough day wc: 1.7k + a/n: this is based on a request, which can be found here! I have a few more fics in the queue that should be coming out throughout the week, so keep an eye out! I hope you enjoy, and please feel free to send any requests my way! warnings: slightly suggestive situation (very slightly), clark is a love bug who worries incessantly, you are so sweet to each other it's sickening

The first item on the Jimmy Olsen best friends agreement is free relationship advice. Clark has a habit of not taking him up on, well, any of it. “Wait at least a few hours to respond.” He’s replied to your questions about takeout in the middle of fighting a giant robot deadset on trampling half of Metropolis. “Let her come to you, man.” Clark frequently broke into your apartment to make sure that dinner was waiting for you as soon as you walked through the door. “Don’t limit yourself, play the field.” Clark had decided he was going to marry you after your first date, and there’d been a ring shoved in the back of his closet ever since your three month anniversary. Jimmy had changed Clark’s name in his phone to mother hen for a time, and worst of all? Clark couldn’t really argue against it.

He hovered, literally and figuratively. When he was worried, he felt like he was buzzing, and the only way that he’d found to keep himself from instantly scanning the entire city was to fly in circles around your apartment. If it’d been longer than ten minutes without you getting back to him, he gave himself a pass and used his super hearing to check in. You’d never actually been in danger, usually just busy or with a friend, but he couldn’t bring himself to chance you needing him and not be there for you.

When you were having a rough day, he hovered in the more traditionally human sense of the word. Soup made from scratch, warm baths with your favorite scented bubbles. Which is how you’d ended up in your current predicament, head burrowed into Clark’s chest while his hands traced soothing lines up and down your spine. His cheek was squished against the crown of your head and you’d unconsciously timed your breathing with the gentle thuds of his heart.

“How ya doin’?” his voice was soft, as if he was afraid to disturb the peace that had settled around the both of you.

Your arms tightened around his waist, and you scootched even closer to him. “Much better now. Thank you, Clark.”

His chest shook with silent laughter, one hand moving to hold you where your head meets your neck. “Haven’t even done anything yet.”

You pulled back, eyes wide and confused. “What are you talking about?”

He smiled, your noses nearly touching. Your hand unconsciously rose to touch the crinkles at the side of his eyes, his dimples. You can’t help but marvel at him, this kind, soft man you’d managed to swindle into loving you by some otherworldly miracle. “You had a hard day, honey. Gotta let me take care of you.”

Your foreheads met gently. “You’re already taking care of me.” And that was the truth. You’d come home, tears in your eyes. It had been a horrible, no good, absolutely awful day. You were running late for work, and then splashed by a cab hitting a huge puddle on your way there. Your lunch salad had gone wilty and on top of all that, you’d forgotten that it was date night until you’d seen him waiting in your living room, a fresh bouquet of flowers on the table and his button up’s sleeves rolled up on his forearms.

And Clark hadn’t missed a beat. He changed into comfy clothes in the literal blink of an eye, and he’d put your favorite pajamas in the dryer to warm up. Then, he’d led you into the bathroom, turning on the shower and sprinkling a few drops of essential oil on the floor for you. A kiss to one temple, and then the other one for good measure before he told you to take your time and stepped out. A shower was the last thing on your mind, despite the previous puddle incident, but as the steam enveloped you, you could feel the tension draining from your muscles. When you were all done and squeaky clean, he wrapped you in a warm towel and helped you slather yourself in lotion. He’d gently guided your arms through your pajama top and helped you step into your shorts before pulling you onto the couch and settling you against him. At this point, you were in a better mood than you’d managed all day. And somehow, Clark seemed to think he hadn’t even gotten started yet.

He began to sway you gently side to side, his hands supporting your head. Your eyes fluttered shut with the soothing motion, a contented sigh escaping from your lips. “I have pizza on the way, and your heating pad is already on in the bed.”

All you could do was grin from where you were tucked into the hollow of his throat. “You’re spoiling me again.”

He sighed, but didn’t dignify that with a response. “Are we thinking Singin’ in the Rain or Princess Diaries tonight?”

“This is exactly what I’m talking about. You’re ruining me for future partners.”

“Oh, there are going to be future partners, are there?” he asked, laughter coloring the edges of his voice. He clearly wasn’t taking you seriously, not stopping his rocking motions and only pulling you closer.

“Oh yeah, tons.” you grumbled. He could feel you smirking against him, you knew it.

“I guess I’m going to start using my powers for evil, in that case.” He mumbled into your hair.

“I believe that even less than I believe I’m ever going to let you go.”

Clark’s arms tightened around you in response. The two of you sat like that for a few more moments, quietly tangled up in the other. There was a small knock at the door, but somehow neither of you startled. “I told them to leave it at the door. Let’s give it a few seconds.”

You nodded, breathing in his cologne and playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. You weren’t sure how that didn’t tickle, but you weren’t going to complain. Eventually, Clark’s arm wrapped around you, gently picking you up and adjusting you so that your legs were on either side of his waist. He stood, hand slipping around the backs of your thighs and holding you close.

“You’re ridiculous.” you murmured, voice muffled against his shoulder while your arms looped around his neck.

“Mmhmm,” Clark agreed, but made no motion to put you down as he swung the front door open and grabbed the pizza box from the small side table beside your door. He gently placed you on the kitchen counter, and the box beside you. He opened it to reveal your favorite and you were unsurprised. He was nothing if not incredibly observant.

You grabbed a slice and took a bite, leaning against Clark for support. The silence that settled around you both was comfortable and familiar as ever. You both worked your way through the pizza, and you only caught Clark checking you over for signs of discomfort twice, which felt like a lot of improvement for both of you.

When you were done, Clark framed your face with his hands. His eyes searched yours for a moment before he nodded to himself, clearly pleased with his assessment. He offered you a hand, helping you down from the counter. You took it easy on him and held back from pointing out that you were definitely capable of doing that yourself.

He led you into the bathroom, and only let go of your hand when you reached for your toothbrush. You and Clark fell into your normal routine, brushing your teeth with shoulders bumping, Clark using a soft cloth to wipe away the bubbles of your facewash. You smoothed moisturizer across his cheeks and he sealed in your skincare routine with a kiss on your hairline, careful to avoid disrupting your freshly applied products.

He pulled down the covers for you, pillows already arranged in the pattern that you favored most nights. He made a show of pulling the covers up to your chin and tucking the blankets tight against your side. You broke into peals of giggles, the gesture ridiculous when both of you knew Clark would pull you against his chest as soon as he rounded the bed. The grin that spread across his face made your heart stutter. His eyes crinkled, and it was clear he’d heard. You didn’t even have it in you to feel bashful about it.

Like clockwork, Clark slid into bed beside you and you were quickly arranged with your back flush against his chest, one arm thrown over your stomach while you played with his fingers. You snuggled back against him, a contended sigh escaping your mouth. After what could have been a few moments or an eternity, you placed a kiss gently on the back of his hand. He squeezed you impossibly tighter against him.

You take a breath, a thank you already on the tip of your tongue. Clark beats you to it. “You don’t have to thank me.” You crane your neck to catch his eyes, quirking a disbelieving eyebrow at him. His arm around your waist only tightened, a contented smile turning the corners of his lips up. “This was more for me than you,” he sounded sleepy, eyes half closed.

You couldn’t help the cackle that shook your whole body. Clark held tight through it all. When you managed to calm your laughter, you turned to see him still clinging to you like the world’s most overgrown koala. “You’re a saint but I somehow find that hard to believe.”

“I sleep better when I know you're happy.” Your heart lurched at his sleepy confession. “Sleep best when I know that I’m the reason you’re happy.”

You turn in his arms, your forehead finding his in the dark for a moment. He still hadn’t opened his eyes, but he was beaming in a way that rivaled the sun. You tucked your head under his chin, making yourself at home against him. Your eyelids were heavy, and the weight of his arms around you was the most grounding experience of your life. “Maybe Jimmy has a point.” you mumbled.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Clark whispered, mostly to himself.

“You are whipped.”

Clark’s only response was to place a kiss on the top of your head. “You love it.”

He was right, you really really did. You drifted off to sleep feeling more relaxed than you had in days, and Clark soon followed, thinking about the ring he’d shoved deep inside his sweater collection.

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fanaroff · 1 year ago

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Dp x DC Prompt: Space Like An Ocean

An alien had taken up residence outside of the Watchtower. Its first appearance immediately started a panic with most of the heroes that could survive in space converging on the station to see whether it was friend or foe. In the end, it did not seem either.

In fact, it seemed fine with just basking and napping wrapped around parts of the Watchtower that made up the outside. It wasn’t the size of the Watchtower, but off and on it was a very near thing.

Humanoid, yet distinctly inhuman. White whispy hair sat atop its head, pointed ears, and the only feature that could be made out of its face were two bright green glowing eyes. A color that sent Batman into a research frenzy. Its skin was void-dark. Almost looking as if a piece of space itself had separated from the cosmos and took and almost snake-like form. Or maybe an eel?

The most notable thing about the creature were its injuries. Multiple lacerations covered it, leaking a green that never touched the Watchtower and seemed to evaporate not long after leaving its body. Any silent attempts to collect it for study and to figure out what it was were met with emotionless green eyes and a bare hint of fang. They backed off quickly.

Flash liked to call it a mer-eel. “Cause it’s got an almost human torso, two arms, and the rest just kind of curls up!”

Wonder Woman was unimpressed with this. “That would suggest it is more like a naga.”

To which Green Lantern replied, “No, no, he’s right. There’s an almost white fin-like bit that goes down the tail like an eel’s does.”

Any more attempts to identify the creature led to nothing and soon the “eel” became a silent fixture of the Watchtower.

It was ages later when Zatanna entered the Watchtower to discuss a completely non-connected case when she stumbled immediately upon leaving the Zeta Tube and had to lean against a wall, breathing heavily.

“Something feels like Death.” Was all she could get out before her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she dropped to the ground. She wouldn’t wake up, dead asleep. Immediate worry all around lead to Justice League Dark being contacted in full.

Constantine with Deadman in tow were ultimately the ones to solve the mystery. It took but a moment for Deadman to be seen thanks to Constantine’s “magic” and awe was the first thing apparent on his face. Deadman didn’t even need to leave the Watchtower to know what it was.

“Oh,” he whispered like a prayer. “So that’s where he goes when he takes a break.”

Queue questioning.

“He” turned out to be Phantom, the Ghost King who had apparently decided the Watchtower was a perfect basking spot. Confusion was abound at this.

“No, see,” Deadman tried to explain. “He has two Obsessions and the Watchtower feeds into both. Heroes who protect, as he is a protector spirit himself and probably feels a kinship, and space.”

Constantine and Deadman explained as best as they could, but when the questions finally settled, the last was “Why isn’t Constantine affected like Zatanna? Why aren’t the rest of them affected like Zatanna?”

“That’s easy!” Deadman piped. “None of you are attuned to death magic! I’m a ghost, he’s my King. Zatanna is a magician with experience in most magics. And Constantine doesn’t own enough of his soul to feel the death!”

In the end, a request from Deadman was all it took for things to change. With barely a rumble, Phantom pulled himself from the Watchtower and drifted far enough away for his aura to no longer affect Zatanna. The heroes could only watch in awe as the eel-like god returned to the open ocean of space.

Addition:

There were a giant green eyes observing the conference room. Every hero inside was frozen in place, staring back at the eyes and trying their best not to move a muscle. Phantom had moved from atop the station. Phantom had acknowledged them. Phantom was staring at them from a window of the Watchtower.

No one knew why he was there. Just that suddenly he was. The bright green lighting the entire room with its shine was the only warning they got. They stared. He stared.

Slowly, he moved. A hand-shape pointed with a claw. They were confused. The hand made a pointing motion again.

The table?

Ah. Several shards of kryptonite sat on the table. The topic of the discussion as someone had somehow gotten ahold of the shards and used them against Superman. They needed to know who supplied them.

The hand pointed again.

Why did Phantom want the shards?

Apparently, it wasn’t up to them to question as the pointing hand phased into the room, palm up. Waiting. No one moved for a moment until a white narrowed slit formed in Phantom’s eyes.

Green Lantern was quick to grab the shards (Batman made a token protest, those were his damn it) and placed them in the palm. He shivered as his finger brushed the skin, ice cold washing up and down his spine.

The hand closed, retracted and approached the face. The eyes stared as a large mouth opened (fangs, sharp sharp fangs laid in green) and a tongue popped out. The shards were placed on the tongue and the mouth closed with a sharp crunch.

Phantom grinned almost smugly before he drifted away from the window and back to the top of the Watchtower.

“Did- Did Phantom just ask for a snack?”

#danny phantom #dp x dc #ghost king danny #danny phantom fic #fanfic #mer danny #eel danny #mer eel danny #kryptonite is catnip to ghosts #kryptonite ghost snack #I’m not good at titles

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katskitoshi · 2 years ago

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"W-WAIT, YOU'RE NOT A BOY?" with TWISTED WONDERLAND

synopsis: he's gotten to the point where he thinks he knows everything about you, until you (accidentally) spring on him that you're not even a guy.

characters: riddle, trey, cater, ace, deuce, leona, ruggie, jack, azul, jade, floyd, kalim, jamil, vil, rook, epel, idia, ortho, malleus, lilia, silver, & sebek x fem! reader

includes: mutual crush relationships (everyone -ortho), cursing, mentions panties and bras, slightly suggestive in some parts.

--------------------------------------------------------------

if not for an unbirthday party where you needed an outfit that accommodated your body more, riddle rosehearts would have never noticed unless you outwardly told him. only now did he realize your more feminine features, and he turns as red as his hair. after realizing, he does treat you slightly more respectful because he was raised to treat women respectfully. besides being more respectful, flustered, and in love with you, not much changed in you two's friendship.

trey clover would have found out sooner or later even if his hand never touched your bra on accident while tying your apron. he straight up asks if you're a girl, and when you tell him you are he acts surprised and flustered. honestly, not much changes. he acts the exact same but gets slightly more protective of you.

when cater diamond found out over magicam that you were a a girl, he nearly died. he just though you were one of the guys that were more naturally feminine, only to find out you're actually a female. honestly, he's not mad. he still loves you! he'll help you keep it a secret if you wish, but if you don't want to, there probably won't be a student in the school who doesn't know you're a girl. but don't worry, he'll keep all those icky pervs away!

okay, okay. because he's a little shit, he wanted to prank you and it just happened to involve you dressing yourself. so ace trappola waited until he knew you were changing to barge into your room, only to be face to face with you in just a bra and panties. he screams, like a girl, more girly than you, and rushed out the dorm with his face red. the next day is awkward, but at least he knows his crush is a girl, and that you have a really cute body under the clothes that convinces others you're a boy.

it's just so strange, the feelings deuce spade has. he even calls his mom and tells her all about his little crush. but by the way he was describing you, ms. spade didn't think you were a guy. so deuce builds up the courage to ask you if you're actually a guy. to his surprise when you tell him you're not, he dies of embarrassment. queue delinquent deuce whenever someone makes some pervy comment (or generally speaks) to you.

honestly, leona kingscholar probably knew already. he could probably sense or smell the female hormones on your or something. i don't know, all i know is that leona knows. he doesn't really have to ask or anything. he just knows. and you think he knows because he treats you better than any other male in the school. his attitude towards you doesn't ever really change but he's definitely flirty with you.

ruggie bucchi is in the same boat is leona. they both can just tell you're not a guy. however, he fears you. male hyenas usually listen to their female counterpart, so ruggie usually just listens. however, when he realizes he has control and that you aren't a threat, he's definitely becomes more friendly around you. no matter how much he fears you, his crush never ever leaves.

i won't lie, but every person in savanaclaw probably knows you're a girl. jack howl included. he won't make it painfully obvious that he knows but he definitely lets you know subtly know he knows. he shows you great amounts of respect and sometimes can't help but feel absolutely vile for thinking of you in some... not so respectful ways.

look, you're gonna give the poor octopus a heart attack once he finds out! you're filling out a contract and you inform azul ashengrotto that you're a girl and ask for certain things to be changed. he simply dies on the spot from shock and is a blushy little octopus. he thinks of using you to convince more people to the monstro lounge, but he can't do that to his crush!

just as expected, jade leech finds out rather quickly. one walk in the forrest on a hot day and a crop top with some sweat soaking through was enough to spill the beans. of course he had his suspicions, but you confirmed them for him! he finds you somehow cuter with your secret revealed. don't worry, your secret is safe with him!

floyd leech always thought you were just so cute! so, he just has to squeeze you to show you his love, right? when he squeezed you, he felt something push against him. he realized what he felt was what all the female merfolk had. "oh, shrimpy! you have boobs!" and he enjoys squeezing your boobs more than you. it doesn't matter if they're big or small, he just can't stop squeezing them!

this shouldn't come as a surprise, but it takes kalim al-asim a long time to find out. i mean, he can quite literally see you naked and be like "wow! you're very female-bodied for a guy!" of course, he didn't find out that way, but he could have. he actually found out by spilling water on you and seeing your bra. anyways, he's surprisingly calm about it. he still treats you like a friend that he has an obvious crush on, so yeah!

jamil viper is surprisingly shocked at what he found out. a little cooking mishap caused you to take off your oversized hoodie and make jamil realize your more... feminine features on your upper body. of course, he's a lot more over protective of you, and oh! he just can't stop staring! he tries his best, but his crush is just a bit more apparent!

he had always had his suspicions. vil schoenheit always thought your more feminine appearance had been more than some accidental blessing. apparently, he was proven right when on a shopping spree he got a little look of your breasts while trying on some clothes. he'll bring you all sorts of clothes that he thinks will suit you, enjoying getting to see you try on the clothes. you can tell he knows your little secret by the more.. risky.. clothes, if you can even call them that, he requests you in.

rook hunt knew from the first second he saw you. you come into night raven and expect not to be observed by the hunter? how cute. he gets actual confirmation when he was watching you change one night. of course he looked away while you were naked (maybe not), but he saw your bra and completely knew. the next day, he obviously hugged you more to try and egg you on that he knows (and feel you), but don't worry, it doesn't take to long to find out.

okay, so epel felmier though you two were on the same boat. two really pretty men cursed by genetics somehow. but, after he takes you on a magic wheel ride and feels you against him, he realizes he is alone. he's obviously flustered but he feels more manly somehow? he protects you and comes off as manly as possible. surely other guys will see how manly he is if his crush, and the only girl on campus, sees it, right?

when idia shroud found out, he was more than surprised and honestly didn't even think he could face you ever again! with a bit of convincing from his dear little brother, he could face you again. although with pink tinted hair and a red face, he'll still see you! how did he find out exactly? well, he accidentally touched you boob when aiming to punch your shoulder after a won game.

(platonic) a simple body scan gave ortho shroud the answers he needed. ortho is the biggest idia x [name] shipper on the planet! he'll call you 'big sister', and probably lock you in a room with idia if it'll help speed up the love-i-fication process. eventually he'll break the news to his brother, but he loves playing the waiting game with him. is idia getting any closer to finding out? no- wait, yes, wait-!

malleus draconia is an intelligent man. however, to crack this mystery, he'll need every clue and sign laid before him. once he pieces the picture together, he still might need to to clarify that you are in fact a woman. and don't forget, malleus is a gentleman. he'll treat you with love and respect as he courts you, beds you, and makes you his queen.

at some age, you just realize what everyone is, y'know? lilia vanrouge just knows that you're a girl. it probably started out at a gut feeling that ended up true. and maybe he'll let you know that he knows by giving you a cutely wrapped box of matching black and pink panty and bra set! maybe with a rose and a note that says 'be my girl?'

sleepyhead silver realizes completely by accident when he just wanted to lay on your shoulder. next thing you know, you've pulled his head to your thighs and when he tries to look up, he's meet with a new type of pillow. he's conflicted between staying awake or going to sleep upon this newfound discovery. either way, don't think that his sleepiness will prevent him from wanting to be as knightly as possible for you.

sebek zigvolt accidentally unhooks your bra when trying to fix your posture. it's an awkward moment and sebek is surprisingly quiet when he asks you your gender. his loudness returns as he begins yelling about how informal he's been to you. as a servant of his dear master malleus, he promises to treat you with the utmost respect!

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twoshootsofvodka · 5 months ago

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Where Roses Bloom, Love Shall Blossom

Nana x Male Reader

length: 18k words

tags: fluff, smut, creampie, little bit of ass-play, L-bomb

A/N: This is my first ever smut or even fanfic, and I know there is a lot of room to improve, but I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! I may have used a few too many references/memes, so sorry in advance if it throws you off. It’s just kind of my style. I also self-inserted on occasion (like the whole premise of the story that came to me after watching this video), but I hope it’s not too disruptive. If you have any suggestions, critiques, or requests, my DMs and Asks are open. Other than that, happy birthday to Best Girl Nana, and thanks for reading or even sharing!

_______________________________________________________

[It's mid-April]

- We are all done, Sir! - Your makeup artist announces, after putting on the finishing touches.

- Thank you!

From the mirror in front, a more handsome version of you is staring back. He is the new favourite variety show host of the nation, who can make any of his guests laugh to tears, improvise in an instant when his partner slips up, and even outside set, is usually the heart of the party thanks to his easygoing and sensitive nature. He is the perfect media personality. So much so, that even you like to watch him from time to time.

But actually being him? It does get a bit overwhelming. The busy schedules, having to always be on your toes so you don't miss an opportunity to crack a joke, which is even harder, since you are still not completely fluent in Korean, and the constant smiling, even to guests you would rather not have. It's just a bit much. But obviously, you wouldn't change any of it. It’s a dream come true, really, getting to meet all these fantastic people in the industry.

- Is everything all right Sir?

The woman asks worriedly when she sees you lost in thought, fearing she messed something up.

- Of course! I'm just always surprised how you girls always manage to turn me actually handsome. I swear this isn't even a mirror, just a recording of me with filters on. You reply with a warm smile, waving her worries away.

- Hehe! Of course it's not Sir. And I didn't even add much makeup at all. Just a touch up really.

- In any way, you did a fantastic job. Thank you!

- Thank you Sir, and you're welcome.

You stand up, and read some news while you wait for further instructions. You haven't checked any of the previous episodes of this show, because you wanted to make your appearance authentic. You also wanted to figure out your partner during the chat, without narrowing the possibilities down.

The only prep you had to do was choosing a nickname (truly a gamer's worst nightmare), and getting a picture of yourself as a kid. It took mere hours to find a name that could lead your partner into guessing who you are without immediately giving it away, or even the fact that they are talking to a foreigner: The Little Prince.

After a bit, the director finally calls for you. As discussed, you put in the noise-cancelling earphones, queue up some of your latest favourite songs, and take a seat on the left side of the set. The playlist consists mostly of K-pop songs, since it's highly likely that your partner is an idol, and the songs might help you figure out their identity, if their song comes up at a good time.

They tell you to scan the QR code on the table in front of you, which opens the chat room. Your partner enters right after, and you read their name: Judy.

*First clue. They are most likely a girl. In which case, I should take the initiative.*

Having worked with over a hundred idols, you start to wonder whether you've met them already

Hello there!

ㅎㅎ Hello

*Second clue: probably doesn’t know prequel memes.*

Should we drop the honorifics?

Oh, so suddenly? Sure

*Third clue: presumably Korean.*

How are you?

I'm great! You?

Me too

*Maybe I should have prepared some questions at least. Not particularly in the mood to improvise.*

Thankfully you don't have to think much, as you see three little dots pop up, indicating that the person on the other end is typing.

I was wondering What's your favourite season?

You don't even need to think about this. Spring for sure Not even close

OMO Mine too The weather has been so nice lately

YES!!! And the colours And the smells And the bees And the birds I love it so much

ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ I see I feel the same way I already think we will be good friends

I hope we will bee Sorry I had to sneak in at least one pun

Don't apologise for being funny!

Heh, thanks How about sunsets?

I love sunsets! Half my gallery is filled with pictures of sunsets

Saaame One day, I saw the sunset forty−four times! You know−− one loves the sunset, when one is so sad...

Oh But How?

Oh, that's just a quote From The Little Prince

Aaaah Your name! Have you read it many times?

Once every year for the past few years I like to see how much more I understand every time I read it With that I know how much I've changed since last year

Hmm Very sentimental Maybe But back to spring and sunsets I have a great place I visit in late spring It's a bit far out from the city, but the flowers and sunsets are more than worth it I can show you one time, if you're down

Sounds great! I also have a place I visit when I'm free I can take you there in return

Nice

*Should I also reveal my birthday? Eh, why the hell not.*

Maybe you can take me there for my birthday It's coming next month

I can But only if you take me to your place on my birthday

Sure When is that?

This month

I see Another spring child No wonder we're on the same wavelength

That's what I was about to say!

The conversation dies off for a bit, but before you have come up with a new topic, the tablet in front of you comes to the rescue.

"Send each other your screenshot of your homepage"

You first check your screen to make sure there isn't anything on it that's scandalous, or would give you away. After not finding anything needing to be removed, you send 'Judy' the picture. Hers arrives shortly after that. At first glance, it's nothing special. Solid black background, neatly ordered folders with english names that all end with a blue heart emoji.

*Maybe she likes blue?*

You have similar folders, all in English too, but there are some extras. Notably meditation and gaming. The background is different though, as it's a picture of your beloved furry companion.

I see you have Netflix downloaded What have you been watching lately?

Ah, yes Mostly American teen movies so I can improve my English Nice

*Yeah, def Korean.*

But I also watch a lot of animations and YouTube

Like what?

Mukbang, and Jangbbijju Also this (네가 빠진 세계 - fall for you)

She sends you the thumbnail of an unfamiliar show

Never seen this Maybe I will watch it later You should! The fantasy genre is interesting And the heroine is really pretty

*Judy is a girl, all right*

Yeah, Nana is really pretty

Right? You know her?

I do But I know every idol I've never met her though Have you?

No, but I'd love to She seems fun

Right, she does

There is short of silence before Judy sends a message

Is that your dog in the background? It's really cute

Yes he is! He's my best friend He's turning 10 this year

Oh, he's getting quite old

Yeah, but he's just as youthful as a puppy

Awww Good to hear And I see you meditate?

Yes My days can get pretty hectic It helps me stay relaxed and focused

Maybe I should try it

You should It’s pretty easy I can teach you the basics if you want

Thanks ^^ Are you an idol? Is that why you do it?

Noooo I can't dance at all And I sound like an untuned violin played by a 4 year old

ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ There are some prodigies who can play well at that age

Sure, but not this one

And the gaming folder? You got games on your phone? 👀

ㅋㅋㅋㅋ I have a few to pass the time I mostly game on PC But certainly not as much as I used to

And what do you play?

Some League and Overwatch with friends I also picked up the new Zelda game recently

I love Nintendo games!

Yeah, they rarely miss The company's shit though Super greedy

*That's gonna get cut from the video*

O.O Are they?

Uhh yeah But let's not get into that What music have you been listening to?

She sends you a picture of her Spotify queue

Interesting Much less Korean than I thought And I only know a few of them

Send me yours

One sex *sec!!! I meant sec!

*Good grief...*

Hmmm I don't know any of these

Yeah I thought you wouldn't Not the genre a 'Judy' would listen to

*hmph* I'll let you know, my music taste is very diverse I bet not even the viewers know these songs

I'll take that bet What do I win?

A kiss

HUH?

ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ Just kidding I'm not sure yet

Okay... How about you buy me some tteokbokki if I win?

Deal And if I win, you'll get me dakbal!

Deal Let's shake on it

Okay But don't look!

Fine, I wont

You get up from your armchair, head to the edge of the wall, and put your hand past the corner. After waiting for a few seconds, you don't feel anything, and moving your hand around a bit doesn’t yield any success either. Then it hits, that your partner is probably Korean and female, so she is likely much shorter than you. Carefully lowering your hand, it finally finds hers. The hand jolts a little at the first contact, but grabs your hand quickly after.

It feels delicate: Small and smooth with fingers you can only describe as elegant. It's not just their shape and how they feel in your comparably larger hands, but also the amount of rings decorating them. On top of that, you bet her manicure matches the lavishness. The handshake barely lasts a second or two, then you get back to your seats.

Okay I know exactly who you are

How?

You're a princess!

Won't lie I feel quite fancy right now

Knew it! Extremely generous of you to let me touch your hand Your Highness

ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

Do our 'dates' still stand, Princess? Can you set aside time from your schedule to meet a lowly peasant like myself?

Aahhh, well Princesses need to relax too And your proposition seems suitable So yes, we shall go on these 'dates'

You honour me Princess

Okay, okay that's enough But do you really know who I am?

I have some guesses You're def a female idol And I'm pretty sure we haven't met yet Which I can't say about too many people Do you have any guesses about me?

If you didn't lie about not being an idol Then I have a few But I don't know which one of them have met a lot of idols So I'm not sure at all

Well, I never lie Just keep thinking You might not eve know me But that's fine

Whit that last message sent, the screen on the table lights up once again

“Send your childhood picture to your partner”

*Oh, right. The picture. If she knows me, this will help her a lot.*

This should help you a bit

Aaaah, cute Wait Are you a foreigner? Here's mine

Maybe... Awww That's really cute too

The screen instructs you again: “Draw each other in one minute”

*One minute? Not like it matters. I can't draw for shit.*

The 60 seconds go by like a minute in Africa, and your masterpiece is done. Kind of.

Sorry, I tried my best.

It's good! Much better than mine, that's for sure

You look at the picture for a bit, and download it before the connection is severed and you're kicked from the chat room. That signals the end of this section, so now all that’s left is to stand up, and meet this ‘Judy’.

*Okay, who is it?*

You stop the music, take out your earphones, and wait for the director's signal. When it arrives, you slowly, but confidently walk towards your partner's part of the studio. Once past the corner, you dramatically turn a 90 degree angle, and find yourself face to face with an angel. Or maybe it's a fairy? Or a nymph? Whatever she may be, it is not exactly human.

Her flawless fair skin is glistening in the studio's brilliant light, creating a picturesque contrast with her silky dark hair. It's neatly styled in a typical way: behind her ears, running down on her back one side, and on the other, resting on her front, bumping over her modest breasts. Your gaze moves further down, checking out her fuzzy two part dress, coloured in white and blue.

*Yep, blue is her favourite colour.*

The top stops just high enough over her pencil skirt, so that you can make out the tiniest bit of her midriff. You follow along her smooth legs, all the way to her feet, then quickly look back up. Her eyes meet yours, but not before catching a slightly mischievous smile form on her glossy lips.

*I guess she figured out who I was*

This all goes down in a mere second. It does have some benefits to have your brain running at FTL speed. After finishing the survey, you take a theatrical bow.

- Princess Nana.

She cracks up. Her laugh is just as magical as her whole being. You have heard it a handful times before, but never in person.

And boy, does it hit like a baseball bat live. You have had countless groups come to your variety show, but you can only gather up a single other idol with such a delightful laugh (Miss Song Yuqi).

*Man, I could listen to both of them for the rest of my life.*

You straighten back up, and take a step closer, at the same time as Nana. Your assumption of her height during the handshake was correct: she barely reaches up to your chin, but it plays to her advantage; makes her look even more adorable.

Her smile never faded, and now that she is right in front of you, you can see a glint of happiness and recognition in the vast, dark ocean of her eyes.

- It's you!

- It sure is.

- I knew it the moment I saw your baby picture.

- Ah yes, that was a dead giveaway.

- But I thought of you beforehand too.

- Oh, really?

- Yeah! I watched every episode of your show, and you did seem like we had a lot in common. Our conversation proves that.

- Yes, and thank you. - Feeling her boundless energy, and seeing her cute, perky personality, you can't help but smile along with her. - I can't believe this is the first time we meet in person.

- Right? I guess our schedules never aligned. But I'm really happy to meet you!

- As am I. - you cross your hands suddenly - But you lied to me!

- Huh? When?

- You said you've never met Nana.

She scratches the back of her head with an embarrassed chuckle. - Oh, right. Well I could argue that it's not a lie in a literal sense.

- Hmmm. I'll let it slide this time. But I have to warn you, I don't invite liars onto my show.

She gasps in a fake shock, and bows as she apologises. - I promise not to lie anymore! Please invite us to your show!

You laugh at her playfulness. - How could I say no to a princess? I'll make sure to have an episode set aside for you during your next comeback.

- Yay, thank you!

Her cuteness is almost overwhelming. The way she looks at you with those doe eyes, like you are her favourite person on this planet (which in reverse, might be true at this point). Her radiant smile, that emits such precious laughter, the sound of is more wondrous than Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. Or the way she seems to cling onto your every word, as if you were Jesus preaching on the Mount of Beatitudes, and how she parrots your thoughts, just coated in that honeyed voice.

The director cuts into the meeting, and asks Nana to give them an interview about your chat. Yours will follow after. When you're both done, they tell you to take a selfie for the show. You oblige, but ask Nana to take it. The height difference doesn't even seem to be a problem. Rather she turns it into an advantage, and snaps a few nice pics. As the shooting comes to an end, you thank each other and the crew for everything, and before Nana could disappear into her room, you call out for her.

- Sorry, I don't intend to hold you up for long, I'm sure you have better things to do.

- Oh no, it's fine. What do you want?

- I just thought we could exchange numbers. Not for my show, that'll be done through our managers, but for our bet. Not sure how serious you were about it, but either way, I wouldn't mind taking you out for dinner. And I still need to take you to that spot on your birthday.

- Absolutely! And I'm completely serious about the bet. I don't just shake hands for nothing. My schedule is going to be hectic in March, but I'm sure I will be able to create some free time.

- Oh, if it's bothersome, we can go later too. Or earlier. Whatever works for you. I can get busy myself, but I always ask the groups to clear their schedules for the day before and after, so we all have some room if anything comes up.

- That's smart. Maybe I'll live with the opportunity.

- You totally should.

She hands you her phone, and you dial yours. She saves your contact as 'The Little Prince', while you save her as 'Princess Nana'.

- I guess that's all. Again, it was really nice to finally meet you. Hope to see you soon.

- You too! Can't wait for my free chicken feet!

You chuckle, and bow to say goodbye, which she politely returns. Before she could get out of sight, you decide to look behind your back to catch one final peek of this angel. She walks with such grace, but you can still see that playful attitude hidden beneath. Maybe it's the way she sways her hips. Or that cute little butt.

*I wonder if it's more like a soft pillow, or firm and fit from all the workout.*

You slap yourself softly, and turn your head back around.

*Idiot…*

Unbeknownst to you, just after you do this, Nana also looks above her shoulders, searching for you. She barely catches the last moment of your little act, but she knows. She knows, but she is doing the same, so she can't really judge you for it.

Your heart still pounds noticeably faster than usual after you've changed back into your comfy clothes. The little cramp in your stomach is not letting its presence be forgotten either.

*Fuckin’ hell. What am I, fourteen? *

You take a deep breath, drink a cup of water, and focus. Within a few minutes, your body finally listens to the brain, and settles down. You sigh in relief.

- That's better. … - But I need a drink.

You take your stuff, and head outside. On the street, you catch Nana one last time. You wave and smile at each other as her manager helps her get in their car. Yours is already waiting for you on the passenger side, tapping away on his phone, since you almost always drive yourself. You shove your things in the trunk, then hop into the driver seat.

- Took you long enough. - your manager blurts out without looking up.

- Yeah, sorry. Upset stomach.

He acknowledges your excuse with a grunt.

- Back to your place?

- Yeah. But I wanna stop at a convenience store for some alcohol.

- Huh? Was it that bad? You seemed to be having fun. - He finally looks up at you, with the smallest hint of concern on his face.

- Yeah, I may have enjoyed it a little too much.

- Hmm. I see. So that upset stomach?

He doesn't even need to say it, you both know what he means.

- Yerp. Fucking butterflies.

Again, he just scoffs. Your manager is the best you could ask for. Professionally. But as much as he helps you in your work, he helps as little with personal stuff. You know it's better that way. You're not paying him to be your therapist, but you would like him to lend you an ear from time to time.

- Whatever. I'll get drunk tonight, and lose some ranks in League with the boys.

- Hmm. Just don't get too drunk.

You fasten your seatbelt, start up the car, and zoom through the city to your first destination. You grab a few (more than a few) bottles of different flavoured soju, and some instant ramen. The cashier is a young dude, probably a uni student working part-time. He realises who you are, so you chat for a bit. When he finally scans your items, you pay by cash, and leave him a hefty bonus, which he thanks profusely. You get back in the car, and drive to your manager's place to drop him off. From there, it’s only a few-minute drive to home.

_______________________________________________________

You struggle with the lock long enough that you hear your dog making a fuss inside.

- One second bud. I’m an alcoholic.

As soon as you open the door, he starts jumping up and down in excitement.

- Hello, you little rascal! - you greet him in a high pitched voice. - Have you been a good boy? - A rhetorical question to which the answer is (almost) always yes. You scratch behind his ears, and give him a treat, which he gobbles up in the blink of an eye.

- You will never guess who I've met today. - You start as you take off your shoes, and walk towards the kitchen to put the purchased beverages into the fridge. - It was my future wife! - you announce, posing with the exaggerated swagger of a black teen.

Bingley tilts his head in confusion.

- Yeah, I know. I’m cringe. But! I haven't felt like this since high school. And that was a whiiiile ago.

You step into the living room and settle on the sofa. Bingley waits for the signal of invitation before he joins you, and licks your hand to ask for pats which you happily provide.

- Honestly, I don't know how I should go about it. We hit it off well, and she seemed interested too. I mean she agreed to meet two more times. Plus once for my show, but that's different… For the first one, I will take her to our favourite place.

As you mention that, your companion perks up.

- Oh, sorry. I think you're going to have to stay behind. I want it to be just her and me.

Bingley’s head falls on your lap in defeat with a sad whine.

- Don't worry, I will take you there next week.

You take out your phone, and send tonight's plan to your friends. To pass the time, you decide to put on that new (well it was new like 3 months ago) Netflix show you haven't started yet for whatever reason. That, along with some takeout, is engaging enough to keep your mind off of today's events, all the way 'til the alarm rings in reminder for the games.

You gulp down a whole bottle of soju during your first game, and the next ones follow quickly after. The alcohol kicks in right as you're queueing up for the third game of the night. Senses dulled, reflexes slowed, vision blurry. Palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy. Your teammates have been keeping up the pace with various types of spirits, turning every game from here on out into a clown fiesta. Muscle memory at least keeps them somewhat competitive, but no one really cares about winning. It's all about forgetting about the everyday struggles. The shitty bosses, the annoying exes, an unlucky puncture on the way to work, your baby puking on your favourite shirt, burnt food, the seemingly never ending house chores– falling head over heels for a girl you've only talked to for half an hour, of which only a few minutes were in person. Whatever. Everyone has their reasons. Meditating can only do so much. And it's nowhere near as fun as this.

The hours fly by, and it's regrettably time already to end the therapy session. Not all your pals have such flexible schedules as you, so they have to call it before midnight. Barely being able to walk straight, you conclude brushing your teeth and pouring a glass of water for tomorrow morning is more than enough exercise before bed.

Waking up is obviously the biggest disadvantage of these endeavours, but you take a pill with the prepared water, then a cup of coffee, and the headache is soon gone. You don't have the stomach for a proper breakfast, but you still force down a slice of toast. You let Bingley out, and sit on the porch, soaking in the morning sun, listening to the sound of nature, and enjoying the smell of the blooming tulips and violets in your garden. - Spring is fucking awesome…

_______________________________________________________

The next few weeks go by without much happening. The blind chat episode drops on YouTube, and surprisingly, dozens upon dozens of people comment, shipping the two of you. It’s endearing, really; a nice reassurance that what you felt during and after the show, was not exclusively in your head, as others seem to have noticed the connection and matching vibes (hopefully not just the parasocial delulu fans, who name themselves after funny videos, and would go on to write fanfictions about it).

You exchange a few texts with Nana during these days, but she seems busier than expected. It could be because of an upcoming comeback, but they came back with Rollercoaster only a few months ago. So you try not to give it too much meaning, but in the back of your head, a devilish voice insists “she doesn’t like you bro”. Your worries are lifted when they announce ‘Queendom Puzzle’, and all its participants in the following days. Hey! I see you’ll be on Queendom Puzzle, congrats! I’m sure you will crush it! Hiya! Thanks I hope so I have been practicing a lot for this

Yeah, I figured The competition seems strong But I would bet on you making it into the group I’m a bit worried But your confidence in me means a lot😊 An ace like you should have nothing to fear! You’re right 😸 If the crowd sees the effort I have been putting into my craft They will have to vote for me …right?

Of course! You were meant to be on top

*of me, hehe*

Yeah! I’m gonna be a star! That’s the spirit A few seconds go by with Nana seemingly typing out an essay. I wanted to ask you for something

Your pulse quickens, and you sit up straight on your couch. With dilated eyes, and gently shaking fingers, you type back. I’m all ears

I hope it’s not too much of a bother But could you take me to that place you talked about?

Of course! That was always the plan, no?

Yeah but I mean like This weekend

You have to check your schedule to make sure you’re free, not that cancelling every plan and recording would be a tall order, or a big price to pay to spend time with her. Sure, I can make it Great! I just know I won’t have much time until Queendom ends And if I do end up on the team It will take even longer before I can take a break

There is no ‘if’! But I get your point Both days work for me, so you choose I checked the weather, and Saturday will be warmer So we could watch the sunset too if you wanna

*How the fuck would I not?* Sounds perfect

Nice How about we meet up at 4? You could show me around the place And we could have a picnic

Even more perfect I’ll be there Great And thank you 😊

My pleasure

The chat dies off, but it doesn’t bother you. The high of finally meeting Nana lingers for the rest of the night, giving you one of the best sleeps since you moved to Korea.

_______________________________________________________

As the planned outing approaches, you remember something from your first encounter: her birthday is in spring. Even after remembering it was in March, you still decide to get her something. Surfing the internet for half an hour, you find a few decent ideas, but none of them strike you as THE perfect gift.

*Maybe I should read about her, see what she likes.*

As you press search, the first few results are about another celebrity, who shares her stage name: Im Jinah.

You quickly add ‘wooah’ to the query to get the desired outcome. Reading through her wiki, an uneasy feeling slowly creeps up on you.

- Well, this is just weird. I feel like I'm stalking her.

Even though you have done this for every idol who has appeared on your show, it's just not the same. You're not gathering information to create the best possible games and scenarios for entertainment, but to wow her. With that thought, you close the tab, and start to think.

- Okay, let's just not. I can work with what I know already. She likes Nintendo games, the colour blue, animation, and spring. And dakbal! She most likely has a Switch already, and there is no way of knowing what games she has or wants without snooping around. I could take a gamble with the animation, and get her a plushie, a shirt, or something of Doraemon. He's blue too, so that's nice. But that is lacking in the ‘personal’ department. So spring, huh? What can I do with that?

You spend the whole day deciding on what to buy, and instead of one big present, you end up with a few smaller ones. You pick all of them up in the coming days, and get the groceries for the picnic on the day before.

The 'date' is set two days after the recording with Cravity, who made their comeback with Groovy last week. You feared that the upcoming meeting with Nana might get in your head, and ruin the show's quality, but it all worked out perfectly. You spend most of the following day going on a big hike with Bingley, and continuing the Netflix show you started. After that it’s time for bed, as tomorrow's going to be busy. The trek tired you out, yet sleep doesn’t come easily. You lay awake until it actually gets annoying, and opt for a sleeping pill. The drug does its magic, and you wander off to dreamland in no time.

_______________________________________________________

The alarm rings at 7 AM sharp, and you blindly search for the phone to shut it up.

- Mmmm… Just five more minutes…

But as soon as you pull the blanket over your head to block the rising sun, the reason for the alarm registers. Your eyes pop open, and the drowsiness is gone in an instant. After hurriedly finishing the usual morning routine, including your obligations to Bingley, it’s time to go through the checklist for today's tasks.

First on the agenda is preparing the food, 'cause if you mess it up, you will have time to try again. Thankfully, apart from a wasted egg, some spilled milk, and a fierce battle with the sizzling oil, everything goes fine. Second is wrapping the gifts. Usually a bag would do, but not today. Not for Nana. Or rather, Princess Nana. You waste a lot of time and wrapping paper figuring out what's the best way to go about it, but the end result is more than acceptable. Third is packing up - food in the basket, gifts hidden in a bag, and a blanket to sit on. Next up is lunch. You don't have neither the time nor the willingness to cook more right now, so some takeout will have to do. Then it’s time to take out the dog. For a walk, Jimmy... That's number five, check. The last thing to be done is texting Nana the rendezvous point, which you do while you eat the ordered pizza.

Although you'll only have to leave in an hour, you decide to dress up now in today's carefully picked outfit: a floral linen shirt, dark blue shorts, and a few accessories. Nothing too fancy. A few (hundred) TikToks help pass the remaining time, before you pack everything in the trunk of the KIA. After making sure for the third time that everything is in order, you lock the house and get in the car. The V6 engine of the K8 eagerly purrs to life, as if it felt and shared your anticipation for today’s events. You type the destination into the GPS - not that it was needed; you have been there countably infinite times already, and could drive there with a blindfold on. But as they say: better safe than sorry.

Some music and sunshine keeps you company during the fortunately eventless half hour drive. Once you arrive and park in the shade of a huge oak tree, a notification pops up from Nana: “I'll be there in a few!” Not even 5 minutes later, another KIA pulls into the parking lot. The passenger-side door swings open, and the angel you have been waiting for steps out with the same gorgeous smile on her face she last said goodbye with.

You take a few steps closer, and bow. - Hello! I hope it wasn't too hard to find the place.

- Oh, not at all. - She bows, and says hello too, then looks around to admire the greenery, and the sunshine seeping through the leaves, illuminating everything in sight. It arguably does a worse job than her smile, but the Sun does give you that vitamin D, whereas Nana only gives your D vitamin. And your soul with the cute outfit she is sporting: it’s a red, floral patterned sleeveless top tucked into a tight blue skirt with a very similar motif. As the colour scheme would suggest, it’s downright magnetic. You find yourself unable to look away from her, until a light breeze, paired with the rattling of leaves knocks you out of your daze. When you look up and lock eyes with Nana, you notice her cheeks have copied the colour of her shirt. *I may have stared for too long. *

- Almost didn’t notice you there with the camouflage. - you jest, trying to play it off.

Nana giggles, and spins around to give you a full view. In any other circumstance, your eyes would have probably shifted downwards, but her hair steals away your attention, dancing in the air graciously like she does on stage.

- Looks cute, doesn’t it? - I think we all know what he thinks about it. - her manager speaks up from behind. She hands Nana a bag, most likely filled with food for the picnic. Before turning away, she gives you a stern look. - Call me when you are done, Nana, and I’ll come back for you as discussed.

She drives off, leaving the two of you alone in a serene, only slightly awkward silence. You grab your stuff from the car, and lead Nana up the path, towards the field. On the short walk there, she keeps looking around in awe, amazed by the scenery. Gotta give it to her, it looks like it was taken from a painting. Birds singing from the blooming trees, butterflies chasing one-another above the lazily swaying, lush grass, and bees hauling their fat fluffy butts from flower to flower.

- It’s perfect! - she squeals with joy as she bends down to touch the silky grass.

- I knew you would like it.

- I love it!

You walk past Nana, who seems completely mesmerized by the clearing, and a pair of Barn Swallows, as they scurry across the sky, most likely hunting for food. She smiles at them, then catches up with you and helps with the picnic blanket, for which you have already found the perfect spot. It’s on a slightly more elevated piece of ground, from where you can see above the city, and across the green sea. While you unpack, Nana goes on about how glad she is to be out here in the sun, with you, how pretty the place is, and how excited she is for Queendom Puzzle.

- It’s an interesting changeup, isn’t it? - she asks with sparkling eyes.

- For sure! Definitely interesting for the fans, and even more so for the contestants.

- I know! I can’t wait to meet all of them. I haven’t even talked to some of them before.

- Well, you could call them now, because we might have overdone it with the food.

You share a laugh, then take a look at the feast you two whipped up. Even without plating the desserts, it’s still enough for at least one other pair of lovebirds. Your schnitzel sandwiches look ‘rustic’ at best next to Nana’s three different types of home-made kimbaps, but you wanted to bring something that you would bring at home too.

- The one with the omelette strips has a pinch of honey in it. I thought it would be your style. - she explains with a never fading smile.

You take a slice, and push the whole thing into your mouth. Sure enough, she hit it right on the nail. The basic, but undefeated blend of omelette, avocado and tuna is freshened up by the pickled radish, and brought together by the subtle, yet lingering sweetness of the honey. You let out a satisfied hum, and swallow before praising her.

- You are right on the money with this one. It’s phenomenal!

She giggles triumphantly, and takes a roll too.

- Mmmmh, it’s so good! I never thought about adding honey to a kimbap before. But when I was getting the ingredients, I thought about you, and the bees, and I knew I had to do it.

- It’s for sure the best kimbap I have eaten so far. Good job! - you raise your hand for a high-five, which she happily accepts.

- Thanks! Now, let’s see what you cooked up.

- Well, I know it doesn’t look as fancy as yours, but I promise it tastes great. - you hand her a sandwich, and take one for yourself too. - It’s kind of a timeless classic in my country. Whenever we go to a beach, on a road trip, or a hike, it’s the go-to snack. It’s just fried chicken breast, some veggies, and your choice of sauce in a bun, but that’s the point. It’s simple, but effective. You can never go wrong with these ingredients, and it never disappoints.

She takes a bite, after you downplayed and hyped up the sandwich at the same time. She munches on it for a few seconds, nodding understandingly.

- I see what you mean. It’s just really nice. I could see how it would be sort of a comfort food.

- Right? - you light up from her words of appreciation, and take a bite of home. - I don’t think I could ever get tired of this.

An endearing smile paints Nana’s face, which you don’t even notice at first, too caught up in the nostalgic dish.

Being the first proper one-on-one talk between you two, the conversation starts off with the usual topics: work, hobbies, friends, family, pets, etc. Still, with how engaged and honestly curious she is, it doesn’t feel like the typical, going-through-the-motions, getting-the-mandatory-stuff-out-of-the-way kind of chat. And unsurprisingly, her enthusiasm rubs off on you. You find yourself nodding or laughing along with all her stories, aww-ing at pictures from her childhood or of her family dog, and taking mental notes of every little titbit she shares about her life. It’s all so easy, so natural. Sure, you are still cracking some jokes, but it’s not the same as if you were in front of the cameras. There is no preparation, no script, just chemistry. When you reach into your basket for a second bottle of soda, you grab onto something else by accident. It’s one of Nana’s presents. You have completely forgotten about it, too engaged in the chatter. You take the two small boxes out, and hide them behind your back while your partner is pouring herself a drink.

- Nana?

- Hmm? - she doesn’t look up just yet, preoccupied with choosing the next kimbap to devour.

- I know your birthday was like- two months ago.

- Yeah? - now she lifts her gaze, and notices the jewellery box in your hand, coated in deep blue velvet. - Oh, Y/N! - her voice is laced with surprise and appreciation, which also reflects on her face. - You really didn’t have to.

- Of course I did!

- Now I feel bad, because I didn’t bring you anything. - she pouts, but her frown is immediately turned upside down when she flips the top open. - Wait, is this..?

She holds onto the medallion with one hand, letting the golden chain dangle freely in the warm wind.

- Yeah. A Triforce necklace.

- It’s so pretty! Quick, help me put this on.

Nana turns around and sits closer to you, so you can secure the clasp on the back of her neck. She stays like that, admiring the metallic trinket, until she leans back against you. Your mind freezes for a second, but your body reacts to her, and your arms wrap around her waist.

- Thank you…

Her words jump-start your mind, and you squeeze her tighter.

- Don’t thank me just yet. - you untangle one arm, and reach backwards for another smaller container, neatly wrapped in pink paper. She handles it with care after feeling the weight of it.

- Another one?

She rips off the wrapping, and gasps when she recognises the baby pink coloured box.

- You know, I almost bought this when I last went shopping.

She removes the plastic, then takes out the rose-scented perfume to try it out. She sighs in satisfaction when the smell envelopes the air around you, dulling out the flowers nearby.

- Mmmm~ This bottle won’t last long, I can tell you that much!

Your chuckle is cut short by her lips on your cheeks, a smile, and her nuzzling into your embrace again.

- Thank you Y/N~

- You are very much welcome Nana.

She stays in your arms, letting the minutes pass by, until the dryness in your throat becomes annoying, and you have to let go of her for a drink. She gives you a playful pout before standing up to stretch, as you have been sitting on the ground for quite some time now. That’s when a familiar, raspy voice calls out to you from close by.

- Y/N? I thought you would come here today. And with a girl, to boot! You turn around with a curious look, and stand up to greet the elderly woman and her husband.

- Of course I’m here! Would have been a crime to stay inside in this weather.

- Ain’t that the truth. - the man concurs with a subtle nod, then turns to Nana. - And who is this pretty lass you brought along? Won’t you introduce your girlfriend to us? - Oh, we’re not… - you try to deny in such a hurry, that even catches Nana off guard. You look at her in hopes of reassuring her, and her beaming smile greets you, though you notice there is something sombre about it compared to usual. - We are just… colleagues, kind of. It’s only the second time we’ve met.

The pair looks at each other with a suspicious, knowing look. You can almost hear a whole conversation play out between their gazes. It’s just one of those things that come with years, or in their case, decades of love and partnership.

- I see. - the woman says without much conviction once she looks back at you. - So it’s not a date? We heard you two laughing from a mile away. Her question throws you for a loop, and while you try to figure out how to word it so you don’t possibly hurt Nana more, she answers before you could come up with the proper phrasing.

- No, it is a date. - she states with unshaken confidence, which pleases the couple. - I’m Nana by the way.

They bow with a sincere smile, and introduce themselves as Mr and Mrs Kim.

- I see you weren’t dropped on your head, missy! - the man titters.

You want to look back at Nana, but she is already by your side, hooking her arm into yours and pressing herself closer. At first, it feels a bit strange to call it that, but it only makes sense when you give it another thought. It’s just a word that you have given too much meaning over the lonely years, and it messes with your head.

- I’m sure he wasn’t either. - she jokes, and bumps your side.

- You will soon learn of that, sweetheart. - the lady pipes up. - He is as sweet as honey, but denser than concrete at times.

They all laugh at that, and you join in after letting go of your now seemingly dumb worries.

- All right, young'uns. We will leave you to it. Gotta get back home before my back gives in.

- Just a second, Mr Kim. - you speak up, and excuse yourself from Nana. You take a few pieces of the layered cake, and stack them in a box. - Please take this. I baked it, but it’s not poisonous. I think.

The couple smiles warmly at you, and takes the box.

- See? Sweet as honey. - The madam echoes her own words with a sly wink aimed at your date.

After that, Nana gifts them some kimbap too, which they thank profusely, then go on their way.

- Oh my god, they were so nice! - Nana asserts as she sits back down.

- They are, yes. I meet them every time I’m here. They visit this place almost every day in the warmer seasons.

…

- So it’s a date, huh?

- Of course. What else would you call an afternoon like this? A one-on-one picnic in one of the most magical places in this city, with someone you like and want to get to know better. Wouldn’t be fair to label it as ‘hanging out’, or something simple like that.

- True…

This time it’s you, who smiles first, but you are not alone for long. Your hand reaches out for hers as you scoot closer on the soft blanket, and she readily accepts the contact, placing her palm on top of yours. It’s not the ‘electric touch that sends a jolt of shiver down your spine’, it’s just what it is: a touch. Warm and slick, but at the end of the day, nothing out of the ordinary. It’s the circumstances, and the owner of the other hand, that’s really special about it. The half-spoken admission of your feelings, a silent promise of more to come, and the most wonderful girl on this planet you share these with. The silence remains even while you eat the muffins, bar Nana’s compliment for the chocolatey sweetness, and the birds singing in the background. You imagine they are watching this romantic scene unfold in front of them, witnessing love blossom on the field they call home. The little angel stays in your arms, although she feels more like a kitty right now as her warm and petite body lays against you soothingly. You can feel her breathing as her chest rises and falls in a slow rhythm, and you realize your pulse is matching hers when you hold her hand tighter.

It’s probably a super corny display from the outside, when the Sun starts to near its resting place, painting the skies in the colour of the flowers in the surrounding field. And if not for a certain girl in your arms, it would have been the prettiest sight of the day. The other thing that the sunset loses in, is the warmth. The temperature drops surprisingly quickly on this cloudless night, and no matter how hot the woman is beside you (in all senses of the word), the chilling winds become a bit too harsh to ignore. So you pack up, dividing the leftovers equally while Nana speaks with her manager on the phone. Hand-in-hand, you walk back the path towards the parking place with Nana lighting the way with her phone. Her manager said she will arrive in 10 minutes, so you sit in the K8 to stay warm until that. Nana sits in the passenger seat, and sees something in the backseat that catches her eye.

- Aww! What a cute flower.

- Oh, right! - you reach back for the pot. - It’s your last gift.

- Another one? For real? - she takes it from you, and admires the flowerless green plant.

- Of course! It’s a Clitoria Ternatea, aka Butterfly Pea. It will bloom with gorgeous little blue flowers in the summer, and as the name suggests, you can even make tea out of it.

She looks at you with a playful squint and a smirk, the somewhat lewd Latin name of the flower not escaping her attention. You laugh it off, and she leans in for a hug to thank you. It lingers for long seconds, until she gets a text from her manager, stating she is almost there. You both sigh. It’s a mixture of sadness and contentment. It was probably the best afternoon either of you have spent in a long time, and now that it’s come to an end…

That’s not even the worst part. It’s the fact that there is no way of knowing when there will be a chance to do this again. But if all goes well for Nana in Queendom Puzzle, it’s most likely months. She places her hand on top of yours, and looks you in the eye.

- Thank you for this day, Y/N. You can’t even fathom how much it all meant to me. And I don’t just mean the gifts, and the picnic. I’m talking about spending time with you, laughing, talking, hugging… And I really want to do it more. To get to know you better, and see where this goes.

- I would love that. - you clutch onto her hand, and give it a small squeeze - Because I think– I think this connection is something very special.

- I think so too.

Her grip on your hand tightens, and she moves her body closer. It’s barely noticeable, but you see it. You see it, because you are doing the same. You see her lips parting, her eyes nervously glancing at yours, and it makes your heart pound out of your chest. And though Nana may seem timid from the outside, she pushes forward with zero hesitation. Unrelenting, unwavering. She wants this badly, and so do you. So even when her manager pulls up, you don’t pull away. The headlights of her car shine right at you when your lips meet. And oh, what delicious, soft lips they are. It makes you forget to breathe, and doubles your heart rate, like a dose of a new designer drug that gets you addicted the moment you use it.

Neither of you break the kiss, and when you shift in your seat so your spine doesn’t twist out of its place and move away from her slightly, she chases after you. She even reaches for your shirt with her free hand, so you don’t pull away again until she has had her fill. It doesn’t take too long, because the uninvited audience does start to make Nana somewhat self conscious now. When your lips separate, you let out the air you have been holding in for these past twenty-something seconds. It’s hard to tell whether it’s this, or the power of the kiss that leaves you lightheaded, but one thing is for sure: you have fallen deeper than you thought, and so has Nana. She chuckles when she notices your reddened ears, breaking the tension.

- That was… - you start, but find it hard to say the right words. - Surreal but, um… but nice.

- Yeah. It was.

She gives one last gorgeous smile, and a sorrowed but reassuring goodbye before she leaves you on your own. The kiss replays in your mind repeatedly, and it makes you ache for more: more kisses, but also more than just kisses.

- “Surreal but nice”? What was I thinking?

_______________________________________________________ The following few weeks after the start of Queendom Puzzle are just as sweet as that goodbye kiss. The late night chats with Nana, her random selfies from practice, during meals, or after recording, and occasional video calls. Naturally, you text her after every episode, praising her performance. She responds in kind, applauding your MC skills, and rambling about her experiences with the other participants. The relationship stays this vibrant and strong for a while, and the energy you get from it shows in your variety show, propelling its popularity into new heights. Which, sadly, means more interviews, ads, and what have you. All of that, paired with Nana having to practice more for the final few episodes, meant a little less time spent talking every day. It never dried out at least, but you wished you could actually see each other in person at times, and hoped she felt the same.

Then it finally arrives. It’s the 15th of August, and the airing of the final episode of “Queendom Puzzle”. Nana (obviously) made it into the last 14 with flying colours, raking up MVPs, and a solid spot in the rankings. Still, there was a chance, however slim, that she could falter at the last hurdle. You knew she wasn’t the type to fall into a false sense of safety, but it still felt appropriate to give her the extra motivation she might have needed. So you asked her manager in secret for the place and time of the shooting. Without much reluctance, she hooked you up, but advised caution.

Getting past the security was a bit tricky, but still possible. With an iced americano in one hand, and a box of spicy chicken feet in the other, you make your way through the maze of corridors, full of purpose. Room 8 was your goal, and, as Murphy's law dictates, it was at the very back of the corridor. It doesn’t matter. The only thing that actually does, is to meet Nana, and put a smile on her face. That ever radiant, healing smile. One can never get enough of it. To make sure that the surprise works, you arrive a solid 20 minutes before she does, so it’s time to catch up with the latest gossip. Nana’s manager - now also your wingwoman - texts you as they get past security. Your heart skips a beat, and you jump from the chair you have been sitting on ‘til now. After quickly hiding her presents, you fix your attire, and wait patiently. At least that’s what you hope it looks like, but even a blind man could tell how eager you are. Your quickening pulse, fidgeting fingers, and deep, long breaths are a dead giveaway of your true feelings.

You can hear as Nana nears the room, her voice echoing down the hallway as she practices her lines for the show. The door handle pivots, and the awaited angel finally steps into the room. She stops dead in her tracks the moment she sees you. Her eyes widen, and her jaw hangs agape for a moment, but then… The change in her expression is like a slow motion study for AI training: her slightly open mouth shifts into a wide smile, showing off her pearly whites. Her eyes sparkle with an adoring glint, as if she just saw the cutest thing in the world. And, as usual of her when she gets this excited, she pushes her tongue out slightly, and bites down on it gently.

- Hello, princess. - you greet her with a bow. Nana loses it right then, and rushes up to you with a loud squeal. You plant a little kiss on her cheek, and hug her close. Or at least try to, but she starts to jump up and down giddily, making it hard to properly hold onto her. Before she pulls away, she returns the kiss. Holding hands, you stand there, mere inches separating you, just staring at each other for a few seconds. Your adoration reflects in her brown eyes, glistening like morning dew on the petals of a Chocolate Cosmos. The laughs and shouting of some other contestants from down the hallway kick you both out of your trance.

- Oh, right! - you spin around, and grab the iced americano. - I got you this.

Her eyes light up instantly.

- Oh my god! You are a lifesaver!

She pounces on you like a panther, and snatches the cold beverage before you could say ‘meow’. You watch with an adoring, cheeky smile as she swallows gulp after gulp, a bit of coffee even missing its mark, dripping down on her chin in the big hurry.

- Whew… I needed that. Would you believe that my manager - she points theatrically at the woman - forgot to buy me coffee? Today of all days?! - Uh… That’s on me. - you admit, scratching your head with unease. - I kind of asked her to… Nana crosses her arm, and squints at you suspiciously. She walks up to you with playfully angry stomps, which end up making her look adorable, rather than threatening, like a kid who didn’t get the toy they wanted.

- You don’t mess with a girl’s coffee! - she lashes out, reinforcing her point by tapping your chest with her index finger. Her faux outrage melts away after she sees how taken aback you are. She smiles at you sweetly then, and kisses your embarrassedly flushed cheek. - No need to plan stuff like this so you can swoop in like a saviour. - she stops mid-thought to take another sip. - I already like you, dummy.

You hear a scoff from her manager, and catch her rolling her eyes. You just smirk to yourself, knowing how cheesy it must seem from her POV.

- Sorry Nana! - you turn your back to her, snap up the bag with the dakbal, and offer it to her. A due prise for her winning the bet from the video, but it's also for motivation. - I hope this makes up for it somewhat.

With one eyebrow raised, she nabs the chicken feet tentatively. Or rather the box of chicken feet. Or rather the box of chicken feet inside a box. Or rather the box of chicken feet inside a box of chicken feet. Or rather the box of chicken feet inside a box of chicken feet inside a bag. Regardless, her face lights up for the third time today the moment she takes a whiff of her favourite delicacy. And that’s the point of it all. Not just seeing that contagious smile, but also the knowledge that you made her day just a little better. The way she dashes to you again, screeching joyfully as if she just won the lottery, and hugs you so tight that she squeezes the air out of your lungs, tells you that it may have made it more than just a little better.

- You are already forgiven!

She breaks away in a hurry, scattering to the chair to indulge in her precious dakbal. She hums in satisfaction as the flavours fill her mouth, which elicits an even wider grin from you. From the corner of your eyes you catch as Nana’s manager nods approvingly. Still, she has to be the responsible one when you are together: - Just don’t eat too much. You still have to perform.

- Mhm! - Nana acknowledges half-heartedly, gorging down on one chicken foot after the other. Her manager shakes her head disapprovingly, but can’t hold back a low chuckle.

- Whew… That should give me enough energy for a while. - she wipes her hand and mouth, and thanks you again with a kiss on your cheek. - Gotta go now though. Need to change and get my makeup done. Will you watch from here? - she asks with a hopeful tone.

- Of course! Will be cheering for you from here all the way ‘til the end. And I will keep your manager company too. Whether she likes it or not. - you add with a wink aimed at said lady.

- Could be worse, I guess… - she shoots back with a barely visible smirk.

Nana gives her manager a hug too, and they exchange a few words in secret.

- Good luck, princess. Not that you need it.

The idol hugs you one last time, grabs her coffee, and waves the two of you goodbye before sauntering out the room.

- She is gonna kill it. - you break the few seconds of silence - You can just tell.

- Yeah. Especially with you here now. - the manager concurs, and nudges you in the side.

You watch the show with her, laughing, cheering, or crying along. After every performance is concluded, they invite the girls back on stage; it’s time to reveal the winners. Taeyeon calls them out from third place to sixth, and Nana is not amongst them. Of course, she was second during the previous vote, so it doesn’t phase you. Too much. Then the anxiety starts to eat at you when Hwiseo takes first place. Still, not too surprising, considering she finished there during the last episode as well.

Then finally, she is announced as the sixth member to join EL7Z UP, placing second overall in the votes. By that time you chew down every single nail on your fingers despite being sure she would make it. The other idols still on stage gather around her, cheering her on while also calming her down. When she takes the mic, it seems like she isn’t even crying anymore, but as soon as she tries to speak, her voice cracks in the cutest way possible, and it’s followed by an even cuter whimper. She gives her speech with a trembling voice, thanking everyone she can think of, and finally joins the other 5 girls on the pedestal. Her rightful place. You sob during it all, chuckling shakily during her most adorable moments. Even Nana’s cool calm and collected manager wipes a tear from her eyes. - Never once doubted her. - you break the melancholically cheerful silence - But damn it feels good to see her win.

- No kidding…

After Yeeun is revealed as the final winner, and EL7Z UP’s line-up is complete, they celebrate on stage for a while. You chat with the manager about the ups and downs of the show, weighing in about the winners, the performances, and how amazing Taeyeon is. After a good half an hour, Nana finally returns, jumping into your arms. She lets out her remaining tension, soaking your shirt with her tears. You caress her back lovingly, whispering sweet little nothings to soothe her. The clock ticks by relentlessly, and Nana has to go again. She lets go of you with a long sigh, and wipes her face with a handkerchief her manager hands her. - I wish I could stay for longer. But I have to change, fix my makeup, talk to the girls– - It’s fine, princess. - you cut in - I will see you later, yeah? - Yes! How about this Friday? - she perks up - I know it’s soon, but I won’t have much free time before our debut. And I want to show you my favourite place before it starts to get cold. - Sure. I will make time for you. Whatever it takes. - you agree without hesitation. - Great! - she plants a quick kiss on your cheek, and skips out of the room.

You breathe out slowly. It’s finally over. Well, kind of. The stress of the survival show may be gone, but now comes the debut. The stakes might not be as high, but Nana will surely give her best, meaning you really won’t see her for the next few months. Again.

Why did I have to fall for an idol? - you ask yourself, but realise it’s no use to dwell on it. Such a fantastic girl is more than worth waiting for. It’s not like you are not busy yourself, and she won’t be active all year long. Still, it feels like the whole industry is against you, hell-bent on preventing this relationship. And it’s not completely false. Her agency would most likely not allow for it: Nana was already their best asset, and now she became even more valuable. Who cares? As long as her manager is chill with it - which she most definitely is now - and you two are careful, it should be fine. Should be. Has to be.

_______________________________________________________

Her sanctuary, as she calls it, is a smaller penthouse on the outskirts of Seoul. It’s a simple, cosy flat that feels perfect to come home to after a long day of work. It has everything you need, nothing less, nothing more. one bedroom with a queen size bed, a decently equipped kitchen, a bathroom with a freestanding tub, and a cutesy living room. It’s just far away from the centre, so that the noises of the city can be faintly heard from inside, and just barely more from the balcony. And what a balcony it is. It’s the part that really screams ‘Nana’. Full of flowers and greenery, two blue lounge chairs with a glass table between them, and on it, a sight that melts your heart: the butterfly peas you bought her for her birthday. - Did you try making tea out of it? - you ask as you trace your fingers along the vibrant blue petals.

- No, not yet. I have barely been here since Queendom Puzzle started. I did have someone to water the plants though! They even cared for the plastic ones. - she adds with a melodic giggle.

- Wanna try now?

- Sure! Although… I would hate to pluck it when it’s still so beautiful…

Nana admires the plant with a sombre look before you speak up.

- Well, they are about to lose the flowers soon anyways. The days are getting colder and shorter.

She lets out a long sigh before agreeing to it. She takes a handful of pictures before you pluck the flower heads ever so carefully and rinse them. While you boil the water, the 1 girl grabs 2 cups and a jar of honey to prepare them. You wait 5-10 minutes until the hot water brings out the flavours and colours of the petals, then you indulge yourselves in the heart-warming delicacy.

- Mmmmh~ That’s nice. - Nana remarks as she slowly sips on the blue tea.

- Tastes like spring, doesn’t it?

Nana quickly nods in agreement.

- Now watch this. - you grab a wedge of lemon, and squeeze some of its juices into your cup. The liquid changes its deep blue hue to a glamorous purple within seconds as the acidic drops dissolve.

- Wow… That’s gorgeous! But I like mine blue.

- I’m not surprised.

Compared to the first date, this feels even less tense. No preparations, no stakes, no nerves. Nana and you are already more than close friends, so there is no need to win her over. Now it’s really all about enjoying each other’s company and talking about anything and everything. She tells all about her pre-debut activities, her school years, and the shenanigans she got up to as a child. You in turn recount anecdotes from the same times of your life, sprinkled in with the first few months after coming to Korea, and starting your own variety show as a foreigner. The tea is followed by a few bottles of soju, along with some takeout. “Some”. It’s kind of a feast (again), but it all disappears eventually as the conversation goes on and on, delving more into your past adventures, your present passions, and your hopes and dreams for the future. The alcohol does its work in the meanwhile, smoothing out the already relaxed nerves even more, and colouring Nana’s porcelain skin in that Asian flush, giving her an ethereal look as the Sun starts to dip below the horizon. Your hand finds hers, and the two of you sit in a tranquil silence, watching the sky and clouds dance in the colours of the setting star.

- You know… - Nana cuts into the quiet, giving you a warm, pensive look. - One can love the sunset, when one is happy, too.

It takes you a few seconds before it clicks, then your face lights up with a tender smile.

- You remembered?

- Of course! I haven’t found time yet to read it, but I will.

- Because of that one line? - No. Because it’s important to you. Such a simple statement, yet so powerful. If anyone ever wondered how someone can confess their feelings without saying it outright, they would have found it right here. Just as the last rays of sunlight dim, you bring her hand to your lips, and plant a compassionate kiss on the back of her palm. After that, looking into her eyes, you both understand the depth and strength of this connection within a moment’s notice.

- And you are so much more important, princess.

The equally corny and touching response earns you Nana’s signature smile, though it seems different from the usual: more sincere and less practiced. Something that merely a couple people have seen if you had to guess. And as many times before, your heart turns into mush, a sweet concoction of affection and adoration, with a pinch of lust.

While the night claims its domain, coating the skies above in pitch black, you clean up the remains of the feast, and grab two blankets. You stay out stargazing for a long while, searching for constellations, and admiring the waning Moon before you move back inside the apartment. Just as Nana is about to dive into her next story, a long yawn interrupts her. It’s not that late yet, but the day was long. For her the whole summer was long.

- I guess it’s time I head home. You should rest while you can. - No! - she objects instantly, then sinks into the couch with a sheepish smile. - Would you stay for the night? Please? You chuckle faintly, and sit down right next to her.

- If that’s what the princess wants…

She leans her head on your shoulder with a tired giggle. Your hand reaches around her, rubbing her side ever so slowly. The little incubus at the back of your head is screaming to lunge at her, but you kill the voice, knowing it’s not the time. Not yet. Maybe you won’t see her until her promotions end, but if you cross this bridge now, it might be even harder on the both of you, having to go without intimacy for months after a most likely wonderful night together. So you bide your time. It will be worth it in the end, even if holding back at the moment feels awful.

While Nana takes a shower and washes her face, you drive home for your pyjamas and a toothbrush. Once you are back, she is already lying on the bed, mindlessly scrolling on her phone. She flashes you a weak smile, though you barely catch it, as the view of her bare legs distract you. You grit your teeth, and head to the bathroom to change and wash up, cursing your luck. It should have been obvious that she would be wearing shorts to bed in the summer, but your mind was elsewhere when you agreed to sleep over.

You step back into the room, and join Nana under the covers. You decide it’s best not to poke the bear in your boxers, and stay on your side of the bed, but Nana has other plans. “She needs cuddles” - she says. “It helps her sleep better, and she missed it so bad.” - she explains. You can’t say no to her pouting lips and puppy eyes, but what comes after is the true challenge. She nestles into you, not leaving any space between your bodies, not even in the most intimate places. Her round and firm backside assumes its position against your pelvis, pressing into you as if she didn’t know it was one of the most seductive things a girl could do in this situation. You have to call upon every god in the sky, on Olympus, in Asgard, on Mount Meru, and in Takamagahara, to help you out in this seemingly unwinnable battle. Their combined might is indeed enough to suppress your desires, and you relax with her, hugging her close like a plushie. - Good night princess. - your voice is groggy as you place a kiss on the back of her head. - Good night Little Prince. - she is already fading away into sleep, but she holds onto your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours before she drifts off. You follow suit, her soft whimpers lulling you to rest in no time.

_______________________________________________________

One of the drawbacks of living on the top floor, is that the Sun disturbs the idyllic early mornings, totally unasked for. With eyes wide shut, you turn away from the celestial intruder, meeting face to back with an angel. Instead of wings, her chestnut locks spread out on the mattress before you. It obviously wouldn’t be courteous to wake her, but it’s also a crime not to cosy up to a sleeping beauty in a moment like this. So you scoot closer, and ever so cautiously wrap an arm around her petite body. If it wasn’t for the deities who helped you yesterday, you would be in an awkward situation again, but your little buddy decided not to give Nana a rude awakening.

- Hmmm~ I could get used to waking like this. - she mumbles as she finally wakes, and wiggles deeper into your embrace, snuggling up to your warmth like a cat.

- And I could get used to sleeping like this.

She lets out an amused sigh, and starts to run her fingers along your forearm, carefully scraping it with her nails.

- Too bad we can’t stay here all day, huh?

- Yeah… too bad. Maybe if you weren’t such a great performer, you wouldn’t have made it into EL7Z UP, and you wouldn’t have to go to practice and meetings today. - you tease her.

- Maybe… But sorry, I am not throwing that away for you.

- I would rather have you throw me out if I actually asked something so ridiculous of you.

- Good. Now shut up and kiss me! - she demands out of nowhere, and flips around in a flash.

You don’t even have time to protest - as if you wanted to - before her lips press hungrily against yours. Your stale morning breaths take nothing away from the enjoyment and the beauty of the act. The chirps of birds and the early commotion of the waking city fade into the distance, replaced by Nana’s barely audible moans, your heavy breaths, and the smacks of your lips. The make-out is just as sweet as it is urgent, but you refrain from using your tongues for the sake of keeping it PG - you know you wouldn’t be able to hold back if she let you venture further. She is not so restrained though: her fingers run through your hair as she pulls you in deeper, and her soft little breasts squish against your chest, drawing blood to your nether region. But before things could get out of control, your rumbling stomach comes to the rescue. “If only it didn’t need to.” - you curse silently in your head. With flushed cheeks and short, shallow breaths, Nana pulls away.

- Breakfast?

- Breakfast… Do you have eggs and bacon?

- I should, yeah. Want me to make some?

- No thanks. I can do it. Do you want some too?

- Uhmm… Sure! I would like a proper breakfast while I can. But I wanna help!

- You’re the boss, boss.

She steals one last cheeky kiss before jumping out of bed, and chassés out of the room. You follow her (butt) with your eyes, then join her in the kitchen.

- Can you grab the things please? - Nana asks as she turns on the stove, and pours the oil into a large pan.

- Sure thing.

Despite you telling her beforehand that you would do the cooking for both of you, she doesn’t give you a chance. Wanting to be a good host, or so she says. You are not one to complain about a lack of work in the morning, so you at least have to pay her back somehow, right? And what better way than a playful bump of your hips against hers, an affectionate hug from behind, or a few delicate kisses on her neck and shoulders. Nana doesn’t reject her payment, and you can feel her skin heat up under your touch. It could be from the fire of the stove, but her crimson ears let you know it’s your doing. When she is almost done, you set the table, and pour out two glasses of orange juice.

You eat in mostly quiet, watching the Sun climb higher on the cloudless sky, only occasionally speaking up. Exactly like on the first date though, it’s not an awkward silences, it’s just… comfortable. You will have many more times in the not so near future to discuss any hot topic, or whatever’s on your minds, but this serene morning needs none of that. It only needs the two of you, stolen glances, exchanged smiles, and some cold oj to flush down the tasty food.

She offers you coffee after you’re done; an offer you can’t refuse, but state one condition in return: “I’m doing the dishes then.” She brings the soul warming beverage to the sofa, where the two of you cuddle up, watching some dumb morning show for entertainment. Your hand roams along her body dutifully through it all, earning you hums of delight. Sadly, the good times come to an end sooner than expected when Nana gets a call from her manager, informing her about a crucial, and certainly critical conference in the coming hour.

- I’ll let you get ready, then. - you tell her, slightly dejected, but not at all surprised.

- Yeah, thanks… You first do the dishes as promised, then head to the bathroom to dress up while she does the same in her bedroom. After a long kiss, you say your goodbyes.

- I’ll see you… whenever, I guess. - you say with a bitter smile.

- I’ll try to make time for you, but I can’t promise anything. - her eyes cast down on the floor, trying not to face the inevitable.

You grab her chin, and bring her eyes up to meet yours briefly, before you give her one more peck on her lips. For the first time you have known her, they were slanting down, but you pour every bit of reassurance into the kiss, and though she doesn’t exactly smile after you pull away, she at least looks less gloomy.

- You just focus on this group first, okay? Don’t push yourself too hard, because I will wait for you, however long it takes.

She darts at you with a tight hug, not letting go of you until she has committed your scent and feel to memory.

- Thank you. I will do my best for you.

- I don’t doubt that for a second. But do it for yourself.

_______________________________________________________

You knew what you signed up for, but that still doesn’t console you. Working, and meeting up with your friends can’t replace Nana’s absence in your life. She puts most of her energy into preparing for her debut, understandably so, and the two of you barely even chat during her promotions. Meetings are almost completely out of the question, bar a few coffees, and a short walk with your dog here and there. The only positive thing about all of this is watching Nana shine on stage more than ever. Even during the rendezvous, she goes on about how much fun it is with the new members, how talented and kind they are, and how much she loves the songs, dances, and concepts. She can’t hide her fatigue though, tainting the sweet times with a somewhat bitter undertone. They even travelled to Japan two times, once to France, and once to Saudi Arabia, and no matter how much you wanted to follow her, there was no way it was ever feasible or logical.

And of course, once the promotions for their first EP 7+UP ends, they almost immediately announce their next comeback in early 2024, threatening even more packed schedules for her, and even less dates for you. Fortunately or not, that somehow fizzles out, but of course, Nana’s agency jumps on the opportunity, riding her newfound fame, striking while the iron is hot: they announce WOOAH’s single releasing in April. Between all this chaos and dickering, only one thing is for certain: you have to meet. You have both waited enough, sacrificed enough, now it’s time to reap in your rewards.

While her bosses deal with legal stuff between WOOAH an EL7Z UP, and set up for the release of BLUSH, you have a few weeks of freedom, and you use it to the fullest. You drink and dine out, go to karaoke and bowling with friends, and during all this, your love for Nana only grows. Finally being with her again, fully, and this frequently, reminds you why you fell for her in the first place: her carefree but never careless attitude, her kind words, her playful teasing, her precious smile and even more precious laughter, her perfect body in your arms, and those soft lips that taunt you to kiss her every time your gaze lands on them, even if there are people watching.

And naturally, it doesn’t take long to give in to the desires you both have held back for God knows how long. After the first few dates, it’s time you cross this bridge. It wasn’t exactly what you had in mind when you met up in the afternoon in early February for a BBQ with her friends, but it was always in the cards. Valentine’s day was just around the corner, and you could have waited to make it the most special day of all, but something about today just felt right. Maybe it was how she fed you while you cooked for the group, how she kept looking at you with those curious, adoring eyes, how she snuggled close whenever she could, how she leaned her head on your shoulder, how she clung onto your hand during your walk home, or most likely all of the above.

In any case, it led you here, to this exact moment. You are lying on your bed, and for the first time in many months, it’s not your dog you share it with. Nana is on top of you, her tongue pushing against your lips as you make out, impatiently searching for a way in, which you hastily surrender to her. You have never seen her this zealous, this hungry for you. “I guess she has had enough too.” Sensing her intentions, your hands creep down from her back, and land on her perky ass. It’s time you shed the pretences, and go for what she is offering. What’s yours for the night, and most likely for the foreseeable future, but hopefully forever. You fondle the supple flesh and spread her cheeks apart as much as her jeans allow. She rewards you with moans you can only describe as lewd. Especially for such a gracious girl as her.

Her hands are holding either side of your neck, pulling you impossibly close, deepening the kiss, like she feared you would get away if she let go of you for a second. Her fingers then snake down on your chest, her fingertips tracing teasing circles around your nipple before feeling up your pecs and abs. She moans into the kiss again, but it’s this time more out of appreciation for your fit physique than from the heat that’s building inside her. In the meantime, you reach under her top to rub along the smooth skin of her lower back. The feeling presumably ignites something within her, because she starts to grind against your growing bulge, eliciting a hushed groan from you this time.

It’s a risky limbo of long suppressed lust and never-ending affection. One side of you simply wants to pin her down, and fuck her brains out until she is addicted to you, to your cock, but the more sentimental side yearns for her gentle touches, her sweet kisses, and her soft whimpers of satisfaction, were you to slowly make love to this princess on top of you. The way she quickly reaches for your groin, but stops at the edge of your pants in hesitation, lets you know she is battling with the same demons. And being the sensible man you are, you won’t force her into something she is not hundred percent comfortable with. Nevertheless, you lift your hips, seeking her touch, while also giving her the green light she might have needed.

She doesn’t bite just yet though - except for your lower lips at times. Instead she matches the movement of your hands, and her digits sneak under your shirt to explore your tensing muscles. The arousal is literally palpable, even your clothes start to feel too hot now. As the restrictions start to crumble, Nana takes the first real step: in the blink of an eye she breaks the kiss, sits up, and pulls off her shirt in one move. You barely have a second to admire her athletic upper body, because as soon as she throws her top away, her lips are pressing against yours again. It doesn’t take long for her to reach for your top after that; her fingers hook into the fabric, and you lift from the bed to help her remove it. This time she takes a few seconds to drink in your sight; that lets you enjoy her tantalizing fitness in return.

- Fuck… You are so-

You can’t even finish the sentence, because with a wide grin, she lunges at you, continuing her oral assault where she left off. The sloppy sound of your make-out fills the room, along with heavy breaths and muffled whimpers of arousal. Her fair skin is like velvet under your fingertips as you brush them across her back with unrestrained need. The back of her bra gets in the way of the exploration, but she gives you a quick approval for you to unclasp it. She wiggles out of the pesky piece of fabric, and again, she gives you a mere glimpse of her pert tits before pressing them against your chest to resume with the smooches. Her lips slowly leave yours, and make their way down your jawline, across your neck, and onto your chest. A move you would have rather done to her yourself, but certainly aren’t against to be on the receiving end of. Persistently, she moves further south, only stopping when she reaches your abdomen. She looks up at your flustered face, and with a sly grin, she unbuttons your pants, and unzips your fly. With the lowered resistance, your erection bursts forward, tenting your boxers, the last barrier between you and heaven. Nana tugs at your pants; doesn’t even wait for you to raise your hips, she just yanks it off, but in doing so, your underwear comes off with them. Your cock springs free, and stands at attention proudly, twitching in anticipation. As your princess marvels at your manhood, you get to gawk at her modest, perky breasts. You swear you can see her pink nipples harden, and you give yourself all the credit, since the air in your room is more than warm at this point.

Nana’s mouth hangs agape as she cautiously drops to her knees. You prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better look of her reaching for your pole. Her delicate fingers wrap around your girth tentatively, mapping your pulsing veins. Her clutched palm moves along your shaft in a measured fashion, her eyes locked onto her prize. - Such a nice cock… You look at her curiously, somewhat caught off guard by her statement, but before you could give it much thought, her lips are already hovering your leaking tip. She looks up at you with those innocent cocoa-hued eyes, though you can’t find any trace of modesty in her gaze. It’s filled with lust and hunger as she opens wide to take you inside. You hiss at first, when her hot breath hits your meat, then you let out the air in a shaky breath when she envelopes you in the slick and soppy embrace of her mouth. Your head cocks back for a second, but you regain composure, just so you can look into her eyes. She never breaks eye contact as she dutifully takes more and more of your length into her greedy mouth. She pushes her tongue out with practiced ease, making sure your main vein slides nicely alongside the rougher surface.

Your glans reach her uvula, but she doesn’t gag, merely pauses for a second. Even that’s just for show, because she grins (as much as you dick inside her mouth lets her), and in a heartbeat, she has swallowed you whole, leaving you dazed, reeling, about to break, but above all, impressed and extremely horny. Her eyes start to tear up after a few seconds, and only then she starts to remove your member in a leisurely manner. Her drool covers you from head to balls as she slowly jerks your cock, still looking into your widened eyes, spittle dripping down from her chin.

- Holy shit, Nana.

She flashes you a cheeky, victorious smile. - Not gonna lie, I didn’t think I could take it all. I haven’t been with a guy in quite some time, and none of them were packing like you. Her smirk fades, replaced by a sulking pout as she sees your confused expression. - Did you not like it?

You shake your head.

- No, I did! It felt fucking amazing. It’s just unexpected, is all. I never imagined you to had this side.

- It’s kind of new to me too, to be honest. But I’m sooo horny right now. Have been for a long while, to be honest. You were just so nice today. To me, to my friends, even to the cashier at the shop. You always have been, and you don’t even know what that's doing to me. I have never felt this attraction to anyone, and I… I can’t help it. I want you. So fucking bad.

You reach for her blushing cheeks to caress her, which she welcomes with a satisfied sigh. - I want you too, Nana. But I’m sure you know that.

You lean down, and bring her face to yours for a kiss. It’s sweet and sensual, unlike the ones a few minutes ago. Those few words along with this romantic smooch is all she needed for reassurance. She steps away with a wink, and stares at you as she finally takes her pants off. It’s slow and measured, challenging you to stand up and rip them off, but you are too focused on her slender legs, and the blue-striped panties to move even a muscle. When the jeans finally are off, she kicks them to the side, and with short, calculated steps, she makes her way back to you. With both hands on your shoulders, she pushes you onto your back so she can straddle your lap. The wetness of her core seeps through her underwear as she desperately grinds against your throbbing cock. When you reach for her ass again, you realize it’s not just any pair of panties: it’s a thong. When she sees your surprise, she just grins. - I need you in me right now.

To back up her words, she peels the thin, moist fabric to the side; she can’t be bothered to waste another second to actually take them off. She drags her soaking folds across your spit-coated rod a few times, giving it another layer of her slick juices. You hold your breath to listen to the barely audible wet noises, but her quickening squeals of delight suppress the noise. After a few seconds, when she deems you well lubed enough, she lifts herself, and brings your tip to her entrance. Again, you barely have a second or two to take in the glorious sight before she moves. A sharp inhale, then she sinks down on you. Not slowly. Not carefully. And despite her incredible tightness, she manages to take all of you in a single, reckless motion.

- What the- Jesus! - she screams as you bottom out.

- T-take your time, princess. - you suggest, but it’s for your own good too, because the snugness of her raw pussy is almost unbearable. You don’t even question the foregoing of condoms, you assume she knows best.

She doesn’t even seem to have heard your words, too lost in need, too impatient, after having to wait months for you. Without warning, or any easing into it, she rises up, until only your tip remains inside her silken warmth, then slams down onto you. The sharp slap of your skins echoes through the room, but not for long; this wasn’t a one time trick, or something to show off, just an appetizer. She repeats the motion again and again, harder and faster each time. Her legs can barely handle the brutal pace her body demands, so she fixes her position. With her feet planted firmly on either side of your hips, and her hands propped on your chest for support, she resumes pounding you. It might sound ironic, but there is no arguing about it: she is the one in control, she is the one doing all the work, practically using your pulsing heat as a living dildo to vent her pent up frustrations out with. - Fucking hell… Slow down! - you plead between short, ragged breaths as you hold onto her thighs for dear life, leaving red marks on her flawless skin. - I- I can’t… I need this… I need YOU, damnit! I have waited long enough…

She looks you in the eye, and in it, you can see it all. The glints of almost obsessive adoration fuelled by months of longing and affection. The guilt of hidden desires and the fire of hardly concealed lust. It’s all there, and you can’t believe it’s all for you. You can’t believe how lucky you are to have this angel turn into this insatiable succubus, drunk on your love, riding you into a world of pleasure that may have never been discovered by any other. And within those passion-darkened eyes, you see yourself: a perfect reflection of all her feelings. It’s not like she was the only one who has been fighting back their urges for days on end.

- You understand, right? - she asks, still smashing her ass against your pelvis with unwavering cadence.

- Of course… - you admit between groans. - Let me prove it. You clutch onto her legs with force to keep her in place. She cocks her head in confusion– then you thrust into her. She yelps. Her back arches. Her nails dig into your chest. And the erotic display is fuel to the fire, to your pistoning cock. The pace she has set before? You double it. That causes her voice to grow in volume two-fold too.

- Ah! Y/N! - she cries out, which spurs you on to fuck her even harder.

Now that you have taken the lead, and aren’t just along the ride - though what a ride it was - you have the chance to examine her petite body. You start from the top with her face, or at least want to, but her head is still thrown back, moaning your name between obscenities as pleasure takes over her mind. Her reddened neck looks primed to leave hickeys on, albeit that’s for another time. For an occasion when she doesn’t have to cover it up with makeup from prying eyes. Below that, her small, perky tits bounce with your every stab into her needy cunt. You reach for them with both arms, and grope her soft mounds. She bites her lips from that, but then her jaw slacks open with a guttural howl when you pinch her aroused pink nipples, and roll them between your fingers. The reaction is exactly what you hoped for, so your digits stay on her itty-bitties to continue their work. Your eyes continue their work in the meanwhile. They land on her tummy. Her abs flex constantly as she tries to keep herself steady on top of you. Her skin is patterned by little drops of sweat, some of which give in to gravity and roll down in the crevice of her toned midriff. And the more you fuck her, the more her body glows with sweat. Not too far underneath her cute belly button, the sight of her completely shaved pussy greets you. It’s arguably the most beautiful thing you have ever seen, even in its current state. Or maybe that’s exactly what makes it so enticing. It’s swollen and flushed, her folds already covered in grool, yet your pounding draws even more of the precious nectar out.

*What a shame I couldn’t taste it. Yet. * - you think to yourself.

Nana finally gets a hold of herself, at least enough to look at you. The craving in her eyes is softened with an infatuation that makes you blush. She leans forward with a weak smile, her fingers brush along your cheekbones in a soothing way, raising goosebumps on your arms. The stark contrast between the gentle touch and the obscene slapping of flesh against flesh throws you off, but your hips are moving on their own at this point, unbothered by the sudden show of affection. Not that she intended for you to slow down anyways, just wanted to look at you, adore you, one last time before she comes undone.

Because after holding back for months, this first orgasm comes fast and hits hard, like a bullet train of pleasure. Her eyes are still on yours, but glassy and unfocused now. She bites down on her tongue, trying to hold back a moan, as if she was suddenly self-conscious about making so much noise (little does she know, there aren’t any neighbours around to worry about). You give her taut ass a sharp whack, and that’s enough to get her to scream and arch her back.

- Yes-yes-yes-yes-yes-yes!!!

You don’t just let her savour the orgasm though. No. You fuck her through it. Overwhelming her senses to a degree she can’t contain. You press your thumb onto her clit– a few circles around her pearl is all it takes to turn her into a quivering mess. Her legs give out, and she drops onto your lap, practically impaling herself on your dick, preventing you from pounding her further. Her mouth is open, and you wait for a moan, a curse, a cry, but none of it ever comes. Nana doesn’t even breathe. The only sign of life you get is her walls squeezing around you periodically, clamping down on your rock solid pole.

It’s sort of a miracle you don’t lose it right there. But you hold back because you want more. More of her moans. More of her tight, silky heat. More of her pretty face distorted with pleasure. More of her jiggling breasts. More of her firm ass. More of Nana.

- Holy fuck! - she finally speaks up amidst shallow breaths - That was incredible… I never… I never came so hard in my life.

- Yeah, that felt unreal. - you agree, lacing your fingers through hers. - You are fucking perfect.

- But… But you didn’t finish yet. - she notes, slightly disappointed, but not discouraged, evident by her playful smirk. - Maybe a good look at my butt would help.

With your cock still inside her drenched slit, she spins around, and nestles into your lap. She tries to go fast right away, but her still sensitive pussy forces her to take a moment before she could properly ride you. At first, you grab onto the sheets, just watching as ripples tear through her glistening ass. But you can’t go on like that for long. Not when such perfection is right in front of you, taunting you, begging to be played with. And so you reach out, take both her taut cheeks in your palms, and give them a nice squeeze.

- Mmmh~ I knew you would like it.

- I fuckin’ LOVE it. - you correct her. When she looks back at you over her shoulders, her hair cascades down on her back, sticking to her sweaty skin. Her lust-filled gaze finds yours, stuck to her cute little bottom, and to the puckered hole in its centre. A knowing smile tugs at her lips as she turns forward again, and she rides you even faster. You spread her cheeks to get a better look at her rear entrance; it twitches, daring you to make a move. And you don’t need to be asked twice. After licking your thumb to lube it up, you inch closer and closer to her backdoor, and since Nana doesn’t protest, you press forward. To your surprise, it gives way to you without much resistance, as if she was prepared for it, wishing for it even. And judging by her loud, almost deafening moan, that’s exactly the case.

The added sensation makes her already tight cunt clench your dick even harder. She gasps, shuddering, but she doesn’t stop. She can’t. She wants to push you to your peak and past that. She wants you to cum for her, to show her how much you adore her, how much she turns you on, how good she feels. If only she knew.

- Come on Y/N… Cum for me! - she begs as she rolls her hips in a way only a practiced dancer like she can.

Your reply is a moan. A desperate, covetous wail, that gives away just how close you are to the edge. Teetering on the brink, facing the abyss… An abyss of pure bliss and overflowing emotions. Its pull is irresistible, as is Nana, and you feel the inferno in your abdomen building up, threatening to erupt at any time. And no matter how wet she is, how much she is leaking all over your lap and onto the bed sheets, it only feeds the fire more, along with your own unravelling. You are almost there, and Nana knows it too from the way your length twitches more and more inside her, and from your short, laboured breaths through gritted teeth.

- Please just fill me up already! Now that’s just cheating. One that probably works eleven out of ten times. Your body locks up as you drown in the pleasure. You try to hold her still against your pelvis as you start to unload inside her welcoming little hole, but she slaps your trembling hands away, and rides you even faster.

Did you really think she wouldn’t pay back for the ‘favour’ of you overstimulating her when she came? You should have known better.

She fucks you, until you’re a shaking mess under her– until her second orgasm hits. The way your combined moans fill the room (the whole house, really) along with the wet sounds of your mixing juices, as it sloshes around lewdly with Nana’s every movement, is completely obscene. It’s a beautifully filthy symphony, played by and for the two of you.

A/N: Your dog is in the garden, preoccupied with searching for a treat he buried a week ago, in case you’re wondering.

Nana rolls her hips slowly to ride out the last moments of her orgasm, while also milking your cock for every last drop of cum you have to offer. She purrs in delight as you fill her thirsty womb, then, once you have nothing left to give, she turns around and collapses on top of you– entirely spent, and thoroughly satisfied. Her hot breath tickles your neck as she lies on your chest, but you barely register it. Your brain is locked onto the receptors in your nether region. Still, with how out of it you are, you manage to command your body to do one thing: hug Nana close.

The two of you stay in that sticky embrace, your chests heaving against the other’s with each shallow breath while your spunk slowly drips out of her used slit. It takes a few minutes before either of you come down from the high, able to speak again.

- You are way too good at that. That had to be my biggest load yet.

- Thanks, handsome~ You are no slouch yourself. - she returns the flattery along with a small kiss, then looks at you. Her eyes sparkle with the afterglow of your ravenous lovemaking, but she has a slightly bashful expression on. - This- This was the first time anyone came inside me. I don’t know what came over me, I was just so turned on, so horny, and I really wanted to know what it felt like, and I wanted it to be you, because I didn’t know when we could do this again… And I don’t want you to think I’m the kind of girl, who just sleeps around for the heck of it, opening her legs for any-

You shut her yapper with a deep, passionate kiss, until she finally relaxes in your arms.

- You have nothing to explain, Nana. Not to me, not to yourself. - your fingers brush through her hair for further reassurance.

She stares back with adoration, then lays her head on your chest with a sigh. The stark contrast between the rough sex and the intimacy of this moment doesn’t elude you, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s not like you went all out because there was not even a trace of emotion between you; it’s the exact opposite. You were both so starved for physical affection, so head over heels for the other, that this was the best and only way to release everything that’s been consuming you since your first kiss.

- I hate to be this responsible right now, - you disrupt the blissful peace - but I should take a piss. And I really need to hydrate.

- Sure… You go ahead and do that… I’ll just… wait for you here…

You steal a kiss before she rolls off of you, then you leave the room in your boxers. After you accomplish your mission and let Bingley inside, you return to Nana with two bottles of water.

- Here. You should drink too.

- Oh yeah, thanks.

- Want me to lend you a shirt for the night? - you ask after emptying half the bottle.

- Hmmm, no. I want to fall asleep cuddling like this.

- As you wish, princess.

You discard the soaked blankets for a clean one, take off your boxers, then lie behind Nana with your arms wrapped around her exhausted body. The strong scent of sex lingers in the room, only dampened by the sweetness of Nana’s shampoo. She settles deeper into your calming embrace, her bare skin still warm and damp with exertion, and it feels sooo nice against your body. Like she was always meant to be right there. Right here. With you. The only sound disturbing the tranquil silence is the nestling from her thighs as they absentmindedly rub together at the delicious soreness you left in her. Until you remember something.

- Oh! Just one more thing.

- Mmm? - she groans, barely awake.

- I love you.

- I know. - she leaves the words hanging for a few, very uncomfortable seconds - I love you too.

Her breaths become silent purrs, and her pulse slows to a soothing thrum against your palm on her stomach. She threads her fingers through yours, content, loved, comfy, pleased.

- Good night princess.

- Mmm~

You stay awake for a while, drawing little circles on the back of her hand, replaying the events of today in your head. Especially this last half an hour. Would she have been like this if you went all the way earlier? Who knows? Who cares? Was it worth the wait regardless? Absolutely. Because all that matters is her, lying in your arms, naked, after the best sex of your life. So far! Because with Nana, you know you will have all the fun in the world– in and out of bed. And doubtless, she will prove that in the morning when she wakes up by your side. By her beloved Y/N.

#kpop smut #male reader #wooah nana #girl group smut #female idol smut #nana smut #kwon nayeon

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gloomwitchwrites · 2 years ago

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Task Force 141 Imagines & What If... Series: Masterlist

Note:This is the primary Task Force 141 Imagines & What If Series masterlist. You can find the secondary masterlist with additional prompts HERE.

Requests: OPEN

To submit a request, please send me an ask. Anon and non-anon are fine. I will not accept requests sent via direct message or in comments on posts.

All requests will be fulfilled for Task Force 141 which include Price, Gaz, Ghost, and Soap. Specification of who and who isn't included in the prompt will result in me deleting the ask. For example, if you send in a prompt but only want it fulfilled for three out of the four members, it will not be fulfilled.

Requests are allowed to add one additional character but only if they are part of 141 in some capacity. For example, you can send in an imagines request for 141 + Alejandro. You are not allowed to send in a request for 141 + König. Non-141 requests should be sent in as a headcanon or quick write request.

Not specifying that you are sending an imagines/what if request will push your request into the headcanon/quick write queue.

I reserve the right to deny any request. Sending in requests that violate my boundaries will be deleted without notification and will result in a block (if sent non-anon). I reserve the right to change an imagines request into a headcanon or quick write request.

Repeat requests happen. If I have several requests that are extremely similar, I will group them all under one post. Requests sent that repeat already fulfilled requests will be deleted.

Clarification is absolutely allowed and encouraged. Please don't hesitate to reach out if you have questions.

ao3 // main masterlist

Posted Prompts:

Kitchen Quickies

Worm

Don't Move

Hand Necklace

What are We?

By the Belt

Break Up With Your Toxic Boyfriend (Preview)

Break Up With Your Toxic Boyfriend (Main)

Break Up With Your Toxic Boyfriend (Bonus)

Clumsy

Just Like Dad

The Obsessed Ex-Husband

Sensitive // Sensitive (ii)

Can't Risk Losing You

Overheard Confession // Overheard Confession (ii)

Hickey // Hickey (ii)

Transfer

Husband/Boyfriend // Boyfriend/Husband

Morning After

Morning After (Alejandro Bonus)

Flowers

Bullied

Premium Air

Not Easy

Last Name

Need

Who Did This?

Grey Sweatpants

Translation

Dad Line

Sit Down // Sit Down (ii)

Spicy Texts

In the Rain

Officer

Secret Baby

Safe Word

Stag Night

Phone Call

One Bed

First "Love You"

Leave the Room

Bumps

Shut It

Unhinged

Chase

Brazilian Wax

Sparring Session

Magic Mike

Scary

Trying

Piercings

Someone Else

Bigger Portion

Crush

Uniform On

Uniform On (Alejandro Bonus)

On Holiday

Alternative

Period Cramps

Enough

Singing Voice

Bratty Attitude

K.I.A.

Struggle

Virgin

In Denial

Under the Bed

Knock

Papi

I'm Your Husband

Captive

Accidental Text

Towel, Off

Lunchbox

Fake Knife

Phone Prank

Make Out

Counter Prank

Is It In?

Butterflies

Faking It

Match My Freak

Contractions

Touch It

Find More Imagines Prompts Here

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kabr0ztrousers · 5 months ago

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Can we get another hucow with some minotaur/bull hybrid action?

(Heavy on the pet play, pretty please!!)

Loving this challenge series, keep up the good fight!

Hucows and minotaurs? Two of my favourite subjects (as I'm sure you've all noticed)

Kabr0z Writes episode 46: Another day in the fields

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

This story loosely follows episode 34 - it's not required reading, but it is added context

CWs: enthusiastic consent; petplay; power imbalance; hucows; impregnation; heat cycle; forced creampie; breeding; belly-riding; cockwarming; public sex;

A/N: There's 16 asks in the box right now, so those of you who have submitted please don't lose faith! Also, do asks occasionally change their order in the inbox? I'm sure I'm seeing stuff in the middle of the pack I don't remember 😄 If things get a little whacky with the queue, I apologise

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It's been a year since you joined the herd. Since then you'd settled in with the girls, enjoying your daily milking, lazing in the fields, chewing the cud. Your body had changed too, you weren't trim or fit when you joined, but you never lost the baby weight from your child Aaron put in you when you joined his herd. You'd given birth a few months ago, your daughter joining the herd with you, but now your empty womb wants more.

The barn doors opened and Aaron entered, working from one end of the barn to the other, attaching the machinery to cow after cow. The women's soft mooing filling the barn. You knew how he worked, always snaking the same path through the barn so nobody was ever missed. You'd made sure you'd be one of the first, you didn't want anyone getting to him first, after all.

Aaron's huge hands stroked your hair, his big eyes looking into yours. You stroked his muzzle, eyes scanning his face, the gold ring in his nose, his long curving horns, before sliding down past his broad chest to the noticeable bulge in his jeans.

You relaxed under his touch, nuzzling up to his chest, one hand sliding up his leg

"Do you want something, girl?" He kept stroking, slipping a finger into your mouth, which you gently sucked on "Have you been a good girl?"

You nodded, his finger still in your mouth as you rubbed his crotch through his jeans

"Prove it, girl, be a good girl for me"

You opened his jeans, tugging them down to his knees and exposing his sheath. The end of his cock is poking out and drooling a little precum, a strand running from his tip to the front of his boxers. You stuck out your tongue, licking the sweet fluid from him, feeling his cock twitch as you did. Rubbing his sheath, you took the end of his cock in your mouth

"That's it, girl, that's it" His cock is growing rapidly, getting as long as your forearm. You can only get the very end in your mouth as you tease it with your tongue, wrapping your huge tits around it to rub the shaft.

He was grunting more and more. His cock pops out of your mouth, splattering your face with sticky precum. You want to taste his cum so badly, to drink it down like wine, but there's always going to be more.

You lie back, grabbing one of his horns as you roll. He lets himself be dragged down to you, looming over you on his hands and knees, the tip of him parting the lips of your leaking pussy

"Someone's a needy girl, huh, does my favourite cow want a present?"

You mooed and nodded, pushing your hips up into him, feeling his cock almost penetrating you. His hand brushed your clit, making you whimper and twitch. He tasted his finger, eyes closing in satisfaction "mmm, tastes like you're ready"

He locked eyes with you as he eased himself in, filling you up as you bucked against him, fucking yourself with his cock. He moved slowly, enjoying the tight wetness of your cunt as you used it to jack him off. He hit your cervix, but you knew how to get him deeper. Your hands close around his horns and you wrap your legs around him, using the extra leverage to pull your pelvis up to his, slipping his cock deeper inside.

He sighed as he hilted in you, before starting to thrust like a piledriver. Long, slow, deliberate, he's taking his time, enjoying every inch as he pulls out, then forces himself back inside. He sped up his strokes, driving himself into you. A long moan escapes you as you cum around him, legs holding him in as you tense and squeeze his cock, kissing his muzzle as your blissed-out head spins. His hands are around your waist, he rolls over, the motion forcing your legs to release him as he starts using your cunt, lifting you halfway off him before forcing you back down, again and again.

Your moaning and mooing is attracting attention, all the other cow-women in the barn are looking, many getting themselves off with their fingers, some eating out their fellows as the barn descends into an orgy.

Aaron holds you down, his cock throbbing and pulsing. A familiar warmth fills you, spreading out in your cunt, finally quenching the fire of your needy womb as the thick cum fills every corner of it. He gets up, still holding you to him, twitching cock still impaling you as he finishes attaching pumps to the other cows. You hold on to him as he moves, arms wrapped around his neck, legs hitched over his hips. You're a big lady now, but he still bears your weight like he did when you first met.

When all the other women are hooked up, milk flowing from their tits into the huge collection vat at the end of the barn, he finally pulls out of you. The huge flared end of his cock makes a lewd slurp as it comes free, glistening with both of your juices.

You know you're pregnant after that

And if not, you'll just try again tomorrow

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This one followed on from a previous episode, but I realised I never actually named Aaron in the body of that work, only the postscript!

Anyway, here's your regular reminder that you, yes you, can request basically anything you like as long as it's smut and I'll probably wind up making it! Limits are in the pinned, but beyond that it's all good! And don't feel shy, anon is anon, the worst I can do is not publish it, after all.

I don't shame, and I don't mock (mostly). I just write porn

(Disclaimer: I will shame and/or mock if requested)

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oofmybad · 4 months ago

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Pool day

synopsis: a pool day with your girlfriend, billie, and the dogs

warnings: fluff, teasing

a/n: lowercase intended

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“brutus! hey, stop that!” you hear billie shouting out of the top floor window looking down at you and the dogs playing in the garden. he was clambering all over you, getting muddy pawprints - dirt and pool water mixed together - across your chest amidst his attempt to lick your face.

you chuckle at billie’s shouting because it did absolutely nothing to stop him - he’s a boy on a mission. instead, he just barks back at billie, and continues to lick your face as you wriggle underneath him, giggling from his tickly tongue.

after a few moments, you grab his collar and try to softly pull him away from your face or at least coax him to lick you anywhere else but your face. “you chunky boy, move!” you say to him within laughter. he retreats at this, his face suddenly looking embarassed. “oh so now you speak english” you roll your eyes at him.

“hey, princess” billie says walking up behind your deck chair leaving a kiss on top of your head. “brutus” billie snaps her fingers, “off. now.” he jumps off of your body, trotting away to find shark in the bushes. “thanks” you mumble and smile at billie, your head lifting up and back in her direction.

billie leans down again and leaves a quick spiderman kiss on your lips, her right hand stroking some mud off of your shoulder. once your faces are apart you move to stand up, making billie immediately whine at you, “wait… where are you going?!” she asks.

you raise your hands up and grab either side of her face, squishing her lips together, and kiss your girlfriend. “nowhere, baby. just in the pool” you tell her, your arms now laying on her shoulders, “you’re so needy.”

“… maybe” billie says as she goes on her phone. you smile at her and turn around lightly jogging towards the deep end of the pool. you push off the coral stone beneath your feet and elegantly dive into the pool, barely leaving a splash behind you. now underwater, you tuck and roll and quickly swim towards the shallow end - you know billie is hot on your heels behind you. as though you’re psychic, you hear a massive splash come from behind you as the pool waves back and forth around you.

you push up from the pool floor and your head emerges above the water. suddenly, the faint tunes playing from the open kitchen hug your ears, you notice that billie skipped to the next song. billie comes up, too, her body only a couple feet away from you.

“that was my favorite song, bil! why’s you skip it?” you ask her, your arms crossing in front of your chest. “woah! give me a second to breathe, jesus” billie laughs, swimming up to you. she places her arms over your shoulders and wraps her legs around your hips, clinging to you like a koala - but your arms are still crossed between the two of you.

“it’s just we’ve heard that song fifty times this week already, baby” billie coos at you, trying to coerce your arms apart to hold her. but you’re adamant in your ways. “exactly! because it’s my favorite”, you argue back.

changing her tactics, billie puts her feet on the ground - no longer clinging on to you - and reaches behind you to grab your ass, “i’m sorry baby, forgive me?” she says in a deeper, sweeter, voice.

unable to resist her touch, you immediately cave in, your annoyed expression dropping from your face to be replaced by a softer one. “i’m queueing it again ten times to make up for it” you tease billie, now pulling her in to cuddle in the water.

“oh, i don’t doubt it for a second, baby” billie giggles next to your ear.

#billie eilish #billie #lesbian #billie eilish fic #billie eilish x y/n #billie x reader #billie x you #billie eilish fluff #billie eilish blurb

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cacoetheswriting · 2 months ago

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eddie my love | the right where you left me. epilogue

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader (modern day au) word count: 4.1k

summary: in a frantic hurry, Eddie Munson admits he’s in love with you and to his pleasant surprise, the world doesn’t end. quite the opposite actually. it keeps spinning. maybe even a little bit faster? especially when, against your nature, you agree to stay.

content warnings: forced proximity, friends-to-enemies-to-lovers, slow burn, suggestive & mature themes, adult language, emotional hurt / comfort, a little angsty but overall fluff era, some serious mutual pining, use of pet names, plus mentions & descriptions of underage alcohol consumption / substance abuse, recreational drug use, discusses sobriety, also touches on topics of: death, grief, toxic relationships, self-doubt / insecurities, love triangle, unrequited love — pls let me know if i missed any!

psa: any images used in chapter headers don’t depict readers physical attributes! these are also vaguely — if at all— described in the story.

To say a lot happened the night of your High School graduation should probably be considered an understatement. Lives changed. Drunken decisions made in a matter of seconds, by you, your friends, they affected the trajectory of everyone’s individual future like some fucked up Butterfly Effect, or whatever the hell the phenomenon is called.

A dramatic chain of events unfolded in front of your very eyes, but rather unfortunately, you don’t remember most of what occurred because you were dancing along that thin line of a mild hangover the next day and completely blackout drunk (queue instead a horrible hangover).

One thing stands out, for sure. The big thing. A motive (of sorts) that swayed the reasonings of your later dilemma: stay or leave.

Eddie Munson admitted his feelings for you, his best friend.

Sitting on a lounge chair in the back garden of Chrissy Cunnigham’s mansion-of-a-house. Your head resting on his shoulder, talking about plans for the summer, and beyond. With a shaky hand, Eddie removes the plastic cup from your grasp and intertwines his fingers with yours. He takes in a deep breath, which you can hear him exhale despite your inhibitions.

“I like you,” the metal-head says.

You giggle next to him, gaze glued to where his thumb presses into your wrist.

“Well, duh. We’re friends, asshat. I’d be surprised if you didn’t like me.”

Eddie shakes his head and twists, facing you. When you catch his pretty brown eyes, your cheeks bloom because there’s something behind his gaze that’s different to any other time he’s looked at you — which, for all accounts and purposes, is actually quite a lot.

“I like you as eh, as more than a friend.”

Upon hearing his admission, your heart fills with joy, growing like a balloon only inside your chest. The world stops spinning and for a split-second you feel stone cold sober. Eddie like-likes you. That fact makes you giddy because he’s perhaps the best person you have ever met and undeniably, he would make a phenomenal boyfriend.

But reality seeps in and a needle approaches the balloon faster than you’d like. A prick in the form of your ex-boyfriend Billy, who is the only other person on this Earth that’s ever admitted to liking you as anything other than platonic. That is until he died and although you can’t exactly prove the theory that people who love you die — since that list is only one, and that’s not enough data for any scientific research — you still don’t feel like tempting fate. Especially because now it’s Eddie saying these nice things and you need him as a friend more than you need him as something different.

“Eddie…”

“Look, I-I just… We could be really happy, angel. If you just gave me a chance.”

The memory is a little hazy. You want to believe you let him down gently, because that would be easier to digest considering what happened later that same night, but a part of you knows there was nothing gentle about how you handled his heart — Eddie’s version of the story corroborates this feeling you’ve carried.

A shove and quick escape from his grasp. Some irrational yelling about not seeing him in the same light and a very defensive stance on how he could do this to you, as if he’d committed some cardinal sin. There’s begging to forget about him ever saying anything (on his part) and some tears (also on his part). And the topic is put to bed. For now, you remain friends. The balloon has popped.

“I need a minute,” Eddie announces without looking at you and walks back into the house.

For a minute, you’re devastated. Thinking you made a mistake reacting the way you did, you consider running after the metal-head and apologising, blaming your nerves since you’d never actually admit out loud that Billy’s death has fucked you up in any considerable way. Then someone hands you a drink and as you down the burning liquid, you forget all about Eddie’s sad expression.

One foot in front of the other, you follow in his general direction with the intention of finding your girlfriends, Robin and Nancy. You want to tell them what just happened, while it’s still fresh in your mind. Instead, you bump into Steve Harrington.

Although it’s no excuse, it all happens really fast.

In the kitchen, you do a couple shots together, laughing and maybe even flirting. Definitely flirting. You don’t mean to. He’s just really fucking handsome and he’s showing interest a) because he finds you to be smoking hot, b) because he’s just as drunk as you, and c) because he has no idea his friend Eddie finally told you how he feels about you.

Bumping bodies, you move through the crowd of your classmates to find someplace private. Steve’s hand is on your waist as you do and a fire ignites within your gut. An emotional connection isn’t something you’re ready for quite yet, but something strictly physical? Well, you want this guy and you want him bad.

Steve’s mouth is on yours before the door even shuts behind him and the rumours are true: The King is a damn good kisser.

He’s got one hand at the back of your neck, the other strategically placed on the curve of your ass, squeezing. He smirks against your parted mouth, then lightly bites your bottom lip before leaning back down and the suave in his movements, the confidence, it all catches you off guard. Although, that could also be the alcohol. You’re both very tipsy.

Suddenly, your feet are up, off the ground. Legs wrapped around Steve’s waist as he props you against the closed door, closing that gap between you further. His mouth is hot against your skin, working its way across your jaw and down the nape of your neck.

At first, you don’t hear the knock on the door. Too lost in the sensation of Steve’s sultry voice, possessive touch, and honestly, literal BDE. But the knocking gets louder and then a voice calls out. A tone you know all too well. You freeze, once again feeling momentarily sober.

Eddie’s trying to push inside. He’s complaining about the resistance until he manages to get his foot in and Steve pokes his head of hair out.

“Dude,” is all Harrington says.

“Shit man, sorry,” Eddie fumbles, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips.

The expression fades quickly, however, since in the mirror across, Eddie spots your reflection. Hiding behind Steve’s frame, head buried in his shoulder. Your gaze is peeking out, staring ahead into the mirror too.

“What the fuck?”

Steve sees the look on his friend's face and realises immediately how badly he just messed up. He drops his hold on you and stumbles backwards into the room, allowing Eddie to open the door wider and step inside.

The metal-head doesn’t really care about his mate’s apology. His attention is solely fixated on you. The girl he’s into wholeheartedly and rather desperately. Also the girl who mere twenty minutes ago heard him spill his guts on the matter, and rather ungraciously, shot him down.

He’s angry. Why not him? How come you’re into Steve and not him?

“Fuck- Are you seriously going to listen to me tell you how I feel about you, then try and jump into bed with fucking Harrington?” Eddie’s in disbelief, instantly yelling with his arms stretched out as if he’s daring you to fight back. “You’re both supposed to be my fucking friends!”

“Dude, I-I didn’t know you finally said something.” Steve tries to intervene and calm his friend down. “Fuck, man, it’s no excuse but we’re both kinda drunk and this doesn’t mean anything.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and shoves Harrington out of the way before once again, peering directly back at you. You, who doesn’t want to indulge in this nonsense right now since it was just a stupid kiss. So, you turn back out into the hallway, hoping to find another drink.

Your best friend is hot on your heels. He grabs your arm, spins you around.

“You couldn’t even wait a day to soften the fucking blow?!”

“I fucking told you, Eddie,” you snap back, trying to free yourself from his grasp. “I don’t fucking feel the same way!”

Even though it’s not entirely true. At this moment in time, you’ve had one too many drinks and it’s easier to ignore, push down what you actually feel towards him, than address it. People you love die, the devil on your shoulder hisses.

“It’s just a stupid hookup,” you tell him. “You’re not my keeper, Eddie. Leave me the fuck alone.”

Eddie’s silent for a moment. The rage on his face disappears for a split-second, showcasing the sadness and heartbreak you’ve just caused. And if you were sober, you would’ve noticed it sooner – in the moment, as opposed to the next morning when you replayed this interaction in your head. But you’re wasted and Eddie annoyed you by announcing his feelings out of the blue.

“Do you realise you just shit on everything we’ve ever shared?!” Eddie’s pointing a finger, it’s close to your face and your anger spikes.

That’s when you definitely shove him. Or maybe you slap him? He’s suddenly holding your hand either way, preventing you from making this fucked up situation ten times worse, although, in your inebriated state, you don’t really care about optics. Jesus Christ, you don’t really care about anything other than finding another drink.

Undeniably hurt and riled, Eddie on the other hand wants answers and he wants them now. He pulls you through the next open door he sees and kicks it with a thud, right in Steve’s face. No witnesses because maybe if you two are alone, he’ll get you to tell him the truth: what makes Harrington better than him?

What transpires instead is a screaming match you don’t entirely remember the full details of.

Until that moment, you and Eddie have never fought. Not even a silly little argument over the most miniscule thing. He’s been your peace. He’s kept you grounded. Even when Billy talked shit in your ear about the metal-head, you always stood up for the curly-haired boy (much to your then-boyfriend’s dismay).

Standing in Chrissy’s childhood bedroom, your life explodes in front of your drunken eyes. You’re too lost in the alcohol wave to fully understand the repercussions of your words and even worse, your actions. Eddie however, he’s stone-cold sober. He’ll remember every single excruciating detail of this argument, and surrounding reasons, until the day his days on this Earth run out.

Which is why — in the heat of the moment — he calls you a slut and shoves the gifted red guitar pick into your grasp, no longer wanting to have any reminder of how much you mean to him on his body. You don’t want it either. Feeling like he’s policing you, plus that disgusting slut comment, you feel like severing this friendship. So you approach the window and before Eddie knows what’s happening, you throw the piece of plastic out the window.

Then, for good measure, you flip him off.

“Your behaviour is fucking desperate,” he spits in response.

“Fuck you, Eddie.”

You leave him stewing in his own misery, slamming into his arm on your way out the door, and head back downstairs to rejoin the party.

A group of jocks is playing beer pong. One of them whistles in your direction, tipping his head towards the table, a wordless invitation to join them. You do. One game turns to two, then three. The taste of beer is rude on your tongue, even harsher on your stomach, and you’re reminded — a little too late — never decline the strength of your poison. If you must mix, the only way is up.

Excusing yourself, you stagger towards the front door. Fresh air slaps you in the face, doing very little to prolong the inevitable. In fact, it speeds it up. Bending over a plant pot, brown flume, a mix of vodka and beer, spills out of you in waves.

That’s the last thing you remember.

Eddie, having heard a string of apologies from his mate Steve, wants nothing more than to go home, smoke a joint and forget about this wretched night. He pushes through his drunken classmates, fetching a cigarette from the inside of his jacket. With the bud between his lips, he makes it outside, only to stop dead in his tracks.

You’re leaning against the porch railing.

Hesitantly, Eddie walks around you. His first instinct is to completely ignore the girl who broke his heart not even a half-hour ago, so after he hops onto the grass, lighting the cigarette, he’s really doing his best not to turn around. Then you make a coughing sound. An even worse sound follows after and the metal-head closes his eyes momentarily because he knows he can’t leave you here. Not like this.

“Come on, let’s go.”

He’s by your side, propping you up against him. Carefully, he guides your right arm around his neck and slides his left one around your waist. Stumbling over your own two feet, you barely make a straight line. Eddie’s holding you. Kicking rocks and twigs out of the way, so you don’t accidentally trip over them, sending both of you falling.

Eventually approaching the van, Eddie helps you into the passenger seat, clicking the seatbelt into place. His gaze scans yours and before he can help himself, Eddie places a gentle hand on your cheek. Thumb grazes along your muscle as your drunken eyes dilate. Something close to a smile tugs at your lips and Eddie’s heart clenches in his throat because he knows, judging by the glazed look on your face, you won’t remember this part of the night. Only the earlier fight.

Dropping his hand, Eddie offers you a bottle of water from the glove compartment and watches you take a few sips before closing the door. He jogs around the front of the car, sliding in behind the wheel. There’s one last longing look shot in your direction, but you’re not paying attention. Gazing instead out the window, into the night.

The drive to the Wheeler residence is silent.

In fact, no words are exchanged until Eddie helps you into bed.

Having taken off your bile-covered shirt and skirt, the metal-head lifts the sheet covers and guides you under. He places the half-drank bottle of water on the bedside table and is about to switch off the light, walk out and hope tomorrow you’re in a mood to talk, when you say his name. Faintly, at first. He’s not sure he’s even heard anything, or if his mind is playing tricks. Then you say it again, with more conviction, and when Eddie looks at you — what will happen to be the last time for the next three years — you reach for him.

“Thank you,” you croak when he hesitantly takes your hand.

Eddie squeezes your palm, eventually forcing himself to let it go.

“Always.”

Then you close your eyes, letting sleep take over, and Eddie drops your hand before walking out — this time without stealing a last glance.

Three years later and the lie of that always has finally stopped gnawing at the metal-head.

In a frantic hurry, Eddie Munson admits he’s in love with you and to his pleasant surprise, the world doesn’t end. Quite the opposite actually. It keeps spinning. Maybe even a little bit faster? Especially when, against your nature, you agree to stay.

Sitting together on the deck, feet dancing with the cold water beneath, you and Eddie talk.

A conversation that should have been had the morning after Chrissy’s infamous graduation party. Instead, a hangover of shame clouded your judgement back then, and Eddie’s ability to hold a grudge definitely didn’t help the matter.

Perhaps parting ways, not speaking for years — and getting sober — then circling the subject all weekend until it was almost too late, well, maybe all of that was for the best. It helped evolve you two into the people you are right this very moment. Two people who are finally willing to accept the love they definitely deserve.

“I uh,” Eddie clears his throat.

“You love me,” you say, tilting your head slightly in his direction.

He nods, once, slowly, then meets your eyes.

“I do.” Eddie affirms, “A lot, actually.”

A smile circles your lips.

“That’s nice.”

He scoffs a laugh, bumping your arm with his own.

“Well, fuck me then. I guess I take it back,” he teases and you playfully roll your eyes, telling him he can’t.

“All our friends heard you say it,” you point out.

Eddie smacks his lips together, pondering, and your gaze instantly shifts downwards from his chocolate-button eyes, landing shamelessly on his mouth. You want to kiss him, but that would be counterproductive. The spell is only broken when you feel the tips of his fingers reach for your own, currently resting on the wooden deck between.

Letting him hold your hand, you look out onto the lake.

“I had a really good weekend with you,” you admit quietly.

Eddie gently squeezes your fingers and after a beat of silence, he says, “I quit my job.”

Before your head even snaps back in his direction, eyes wide in disbelief, he lifts his free hand in the air to stop you from questioning his actions and jumping to conclusions, and continues talking.

“During breakfast, when you said we’ve only been surface level, I knew you were lying and I realised in that moment just how truly scared you are to feel happy because of what happened to Billy.” The metal-head explains, “After I stormed off, I called my boss at the station and I told him I’m quitting because I decided to come with you to Vegas.”

“Eddie—”

“Shh woman, let me talk,” he stops you with a timid smile. “I aim to prove to you, it’s okay to move on and leave the past in the past. The only way I can do that is if we’re in the same city.”

Life in Las Vegas became fuller with Eddie Munson by your side.

Your tiny apartment suddenly doesn’t feel as suffocating when the metal-head fills it with his trinkets, collection of vinyls, and gradually decorates the empty walls with prints and posters. Eddie gives your now shared home, life and in return you help him find a presenter job at a nearby station — a daytime slot, so you don’t have to spend your evenings alone anymore.

As weeks pass, you introduce him to the wellness hobbies you’ve picked up over the years. Hiking, yoga. Seemingly not a good fit for the dark academia vibe of your non-labeled boyfriend, but Eddie dives into these activities head first because they’re a part of the person you’ve become in his absence and this challenge he’s created (and accepted) for himself — “it’s okay to move on” — requires him to be completely willing.

Next on the agenda of assimilation is meeting your Vegas friends.

Jax being first on the list and although you worried about a potential stand-off of male egos, the two guys click immediately, mainly bonding over their shared priority: your happiness. Later on, at a house party Jax throws, Eddie meets the remainder of your new friend group: Chiti, Savannah, and Sammy. People the metal-head only recently became aware of, but a group that undoubtedly cares for you just as deeply as the Hawkins crew.

And speaking of which, they eventually also make their way down to visit — as promised. The six of you cram into your small apartment, squeeze like sardines in a metal tin, but no one complains because you’re together again, if only for a short period of time.

When it’s just you and Eddie, Earth slows down.

His willingness to simply be there for you makes your heart grow tenfold, and you become more and more obsessed with him. Every single morning, brown-eyes find yours and he whispers he loves you, then kisses you softly. Never once forcing you to say it back, although you feel it. With every fiber of your being, stronger each day, you feel the love you have for him.

One evening, about four months into living together, labeless, but with certain strings attached, the two of you are cooking dinner together. Eddie has just come home from work and you wrapped up an assignment, it’s quiet and blissful.

Sitting at the kitchen island, while Eddie is chopping vegetables and telling you about his day, you realise that it has been a while since you’ve thought about Billy. Honestly, if you had to say, you wouldn’t be able to point out at all when exactly your dead ex-boyfriend crossed your mind for the last time.

And you realise right then and there, you’re no longer scared. Eddie has completed his challenge.

So, without giving it a second thought, you blurt out the three words he’s been longing to hear from you for as long as he can remember.

“I love you.”

His head snaps up, gaze catching yours. Seeing the conviction written all over your features, he drops the knife onto the wooden board and rounds the cabinets, approaching you like a moth to flame. His ring-clad fingers grip your face gently and he’s fighting back a smile, which makes your own mouth twitch upwards.

“Are you sure?”

He’s not certain exactly why he asks the question. Maybe because he wants to hear you utter those words again, and you do, with even more fervour.

Nodding, you say, “I love you, hotshot.”

Grinning like an idiot, Eddie lowers his body, lips smashing against yours in an elated kiss because you love him, and he loves you, and all is going to be okay. The past is the past. You’ve both overcome the associated demons and now you’re here, together.

In love.

Parking your car at the desired destination, you glance out the half-opened window and note how the weather is far from ideal for the planned activities.

It’s cold. Cold enough to make anyone's atoms shiver. Dark grey clouds cover every inch of the sky above, hiding the beautiful autumn sun. The air is brisk. It’s harsh against your skin as you eventually get out of the red Jeep and the unwelcoming breeze that follows makes you wish that you had packed warmer clothes for this weekend.

Déjà vu.

A heavy jacket is draped over your shoulders and you smile, tugging it closer to yourself while looking behind for its wild-haired owner. Eddie winks at you, then opens the boot to grab both of your bags as the door of the lake house swings open and Nancy runs out, arms spread wide as she squeals with excitement.

“You’re both here!”

The hug Nancy gives you is strong, almost full force — pretty much the same as the one she embraced you in at exactly this time last year, in this very same spot. Her arms are wrapped tightly around you and you instantly hug her back, a small smile circling your lips.

“Of course we’re here,” you tell her, pulling back. “It’s not every day your friends organise a weekend getaway to celebrate their engagement!”

She beams and not-so-casually lifts her hand to show off the elegant rock gracing her ring finger. Then, just as quickly, she pulls you by the arm, into another quick embrace and whispers in your ear, “You’re next.”, earning herself a nudge in the side because, even though, you’ve been going steady with the metal-head for just under a year, you’re nowhere near ready for marriage.

Although, marrying Eddie Munson would be far from a travesty.

After saying hello to your brunette boyfriend, Nancy leads you both into the lakehouse. Not much has changed inside, yet the wow effect is still as strong. The rest of the group — Jonathan, Steve, Argyle, Robin — are sitting outside, on the patio. They jump up excitedly when they see you and Eddie, greeting you both like no time has passed (because really, it’s only been a couple of weeks).

Eddie makes himself comfortable next to you, hand on your thigh. He instantly engages in conversation with Jonathan, while you look at Steve. He offers you a cigarette, then lights the bud for you. After a moment of huffing smoke, he leans in closer and with a tender smile on his face says:

“It’s nice to finally see you happy, sweetheart.”

And this time around, right here, in this place where, last year, you’ve reconnected with not only yourself, but the best people in the world, where you met Eddie Munson all over again, opened yourself up to him and fell in the process, the sentiment surrounding your joy is true.

“I am,” you say, leaning your back into Eddie. The primary source of your happiness. Yours forever.

as always, thank you for reading & please support your writers by reblogging <3

to all you babes, thank you for loving this little labour of love. i literally can’t believe we’re at the end of this story 🥲 obsessed with every single person that’s liked, reblogged, commented, and overall enjoyed reading this fic. i love you all forever and ever - until next time!

lastly, tagging some cool people that expressed ongoing interest in this story:

@ali-r3n @thelazyarchangel @hufflepuffobsessedwithmarvel @peculiarwren @fxoxo @losingmygrasponreality @kellsck @sp1dyb0y1008 @mmmunson @somethingvicked @darknesseddiem @scream4mami @pineapplechuncks @sophiejayne-illustrations713 @emxxblog @bl0ssomanddie @theladyhellfire @gracelouiseoneill @emquinn94 @transparent-enemy @rach5ive @knew-better-forever-girl-two @lemonmarquee @mossgh0st @probablyin-bed @dustbowleddie @residentoftomlinsonsass @heart-eyed-love @munsonburn3r @helsa3942 @althaiareads @theladyhellfire @v1per1ne @sugarplumsweetiepie @rizzraa @micheledawn1975 @gracelouiseoneill @moremaple @bigpoppascherry @jeangeniex @daisy-munson @ceeezy @kissmyacdc @cyressluvy @mango-slush-boba @iyskgd @bigpoppascherry @everlove @tieganspeirs

#this is it guys; the end #thank you for being a part of their story just as much as me (if not more)#right where you left me.#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson slow burn #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson series #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader

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sunsetmade · 2 days ago

Text

Trauma Scars

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky’s mind can’t seem to forget that night. The night where he hurt the only person he loves.

Sunny’s Note: ITS FINALLY HERE!!! This has been sitting in my queue for a hot minute! Written in italics is the flashback, also a space between the present and past just for more clarification.

She was asleep beside him—curled into his side with her head resting on his chest, one arm slung loosely over his stomach like it belonged there. Like he belonged there. Her breathing was slow and steady, soft exhales brushing against his skin in a rhythm that soothed and shattered him all at once. It sounded like peace. Like trust.

And she shouldn’t trust him. Not after everything.

Not after the incident.

Bucky’s fingers absentmindedly threaded through her hair, gentle and reverent, as though afraid she might break under his touch. His hand moved with aching care, the way a sinner might handle something sacred—something he no longer deserved. His heart thudded heavily in his chest, loud enough he was sure she could feel it beneath her cheek.

She trusted him enough to fall asleep here. With him. After the pain he’d caused.

She shouldn’t.

She deserved more than this. More than him.

Bucky’s gaze drifted down, following the soft slope of her waist where the hem of her—really his—shirt had ridden up in her sleep. The sight made his breath catch. The bruises were still there—dark, ugly splotches blooming across her skin like cruel fingerprints from the past. Stark against the light fabric. A sickening reminder.

Just below the bruises was a thin, pale scar. Faint, but permanent. He didn’t need to touch it to remember what had caused it. He knew. Knew exactly how that wound had split open her skin, how the blade in his hand had caught her.

Her once-soft skin, once untouched by violence, was now marred because of him.

Bucky’s throat tightened. He couldn’t look anymore. He forced his eyes upward and held her tighter, arms closing around her in a silent, desperate plea. Like if he just held her close enough, maybe he could stop time. Maybe she wouldn’t wake up and see him for what he truly was.

His gaze landed on the wall in front of him.

The wall of her apartment.

The one covered in photos. Pictures of them—smiling, laughing, kissing. Little frozen moments that painted a life he wasn’t sure he had the right to be part of anymore.

His mind drifted back. Back to the moment everything changed. The blood. The shouting. Her trembling hands on his face, trying to calm the storm inside him. Her voice—soft but scared—begging him to breathe, to come back to her.

It had been a good night. No—a great one.

One of those quiet, golden evenings that settled into Bucky’s bones like warmth after a brutal winter. It wasn’t flashy or loud, but it was real, soft—domestic in a way he’d never truly experienced before.

He had just returned from a mission. His body ached in places he’d stopped keeping track of years ago, a dull soreness that spread through his muscles and settled deep into his spine. There was a slight limp in his stride, the kind that told him he’d pushed too hard, too fast, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to be here. With her.

The second he stepped into her apartment—their apartment, if he was being honest, considering how much of his stuff had slowly migrated here—something in him let go. His shoulders dropped, his jaw unclenched, and the weight he’d been dragging behind him seemed to lift, just a little. Even the persistent throb in his back faded into the background.

Because there she was.

In the kitchen, barefoot and swaying slightly to the soft sound of music echoing from the Bluetooth speaker on the counter. A Sinatra tune—his recommendation. She’d fallen in love with the old classics because he loved them, and now she hummed along like she’d always known them.

She was stirring a pot on the stove, her movements unhurried, fluid. A picture of peace wrapped in a too-big shirt and messy hair. The smell of garlic and something warm filled the space, but Bucky only had eyes for her.

He smiled, slow and soft, then chuckled under his breath as he shut the door behind him. The click was quiet, but not quiet enough to alert her—she didn’t turn, too caught up in the music.

Something inside him swelled.

God, he missed her. Even though it had only been a few days. Even though he wasn’t the kind of man who let himself miss things.

He crossed the room in a few quiet steps, the limp more obvious now that he’d stopped pretending it wasn’t there. But it didn’t matter. Because she was here. Because this—she—was healing in a way no serum, no tech, no mission ever could be.

Without a word, he slipped his arms around her waist from behind, pulling her against his chest.

She gasped, a startled laugh leaving her lips. “James!” she scolded, breathless. “You scared me!”

Bucky grinned against the crook of her neck, tightening his arms around her.

Her laugh faded into something softer when she turned in his embrace, hands coming up to cradle his face. “When did you get home?” she asked gently, brushing her fingers through his hair, already reading the exhaustion in his eyes.

“Just now,” he murmured, eyes scanning her face like he was memorizing it all over again. “Didn’t wanna interrupt, doll. You were singing.”

She smiled— a warm and fuzzy one—and it made something in him ache in the best way.

Home, he thought. Not a building. Not a base. Not a place. Her.

She was home now.

He leaned down, resting his forehead against hers, breathing in the moment like he never wanted it to end. Because this—her humming Sinatra in his old shirt, his arms around her, the quiet warmth of the kitchen—this was something he never thought he’d have.

And God help him, he never wanted to let it go.

Dinner passed in a blur—warm food, soft music, the quiet clinking of silverware—but Bucky hardly noticed any of it. Not the taste, not the plate in front of him, not the stiffness in his leg from sitting too long.

All he could focus on was her.

She sat in the chair right beside him, close enough that their knees brushed beneath the table. His flesh hand rested on her thigh, fingers moving in slow, absentminded patterns against her bare skin. It wasn’t intentional at first—just something instinctive, something that grounded him—but the moment her body leaned ever so slightly into his touch, it became purposeful.

Her voice filled the room, soft and animated as she recounted everything he’d missed while he was gone. Stories about the neighbors, the odd things that happened on her floor, a cat that had somehow found its way into the laundry room and refused to leave.

Bucky didn’t say much. He didn’t need to.

He watched.

Watched the way her hands moved as she spoke—fluid, expressive, like her words weren’t enough unless her fingers helped paint the picture. He watched how her eyes would flick to his after nearly every sentence, checking that he was still with her, still listening. As if making sure he hadn’t drifted too far away.

He hadn’t. He was right here.

Completely, hopelessly here.

He watched the way her lips curled when she remembered something funny, the way her nose crinkled when she disliked a part in the story. And he smiled through all of it—soft and smitten—like he couldn’t believe he got to sit here and witness it.

There was something about the way she told stories that made the world feel quieter.

Safer.

Like nothing existed outside this room—just her voice, her warmth, the soft press of her skin under his hand.

She laughed, light and unfiltered, and his heart stuttered in his chest.

God, he loved her.

And in moments like this, when the world slowed down and she looked at him like he was something good, something steady—he almost let himself believe he deserved it.

She glanced at him again, lips still curved in a smile. “You’re awfully quiet over there, Sergeant,” she teased gently.

His thumb traced one last lazy circle on her thigh.

“I’m just taking it all in, doll,” he murmured, voice low. “Didn’t know how much I missed this—you—until I walked through that door.”

Her smile softened. One of those small, tender things that made his chest ache. She reached for his hand, lacing their fingers together.

“I missed you too, James.” She whispered with soft eyes. No fear. No doubt. She was sure.

After dinner, they moved in sync—cleaning up plates, wiping down the counters, brushing shoulders and exchanging small smiles that said more than words could. The hum of the music still played in the background, now quiet and slow, casting a warmth over the space that felt like it was just theirs. He dried the dishes while she rinsed them, and when their hands bumped in the sink, she giggled, nudging him with her elbow.

Once everything was cleaned and the last light in the kitchen was switched off, she turned toward him and laced her fingers through his. Her grip was soft, gentle, but full of intent. Bucky let her lead him without hesitation.

She guided him down the short hallway, her bare feet padding softly against the hardwood as he followed, his heart already slowing to match the peace she always managed to wrap him in.

The second they stepped into her bedroom, a deep breath left his chest—a sigh of contentment that melted some of the tension still lingering in his back.

Everything was just as he remembered.

Her fuzzy white blanket was draped across the foot of the bed in its usual spot, looking just as soft and inviting as ever. The hoodie he’d left behind before his mission was still hanging off the back of her chair—wrinkled, lived in. It smelled like her now.

He stood in the doorway for a moment longer, just looking. Memorizing every corner. The fairy lights above the headboard casting a soft glow over the room, the lavender candle burning faintly on her nightstand, her worn copy of the book she always fell asleep reading sitting facedown beside it.

Then she disappeared into the bathroom with a wink, and he heard the soft click of the door shutting behind her.

While she was gone, he sat at the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair and soaking in the silence. The safe kind. The rare kind.

A few minutes later, the bathroom door creaked open again, and she stepped out, fresh-faced and glowing. Her hair was a little damp, tied up messily, and she was wearing one of his old henleys—slightly oversized on her—and a pair of soft pink shorts that barely peeked out beneath the hem.

Bucky’s eyes softened instantly, a low chuckle escaping him as he leaned back on his hands. “You stealing all my clothes now, doll?”

She grinned with absolutely no shame and nodded, climbing into bed like she’d been waiting all day for it. “Obviously,” she said simply, tugging the blanket over her legs and patting the space beside her. “They smell like you.”

That did something to his chest—tightened it in a good way.

He shook his head with a smile, heart full, and rose to get ready himself. After a quick rinse and a change into his favorite pair of worn sweatpants, he emerged from the bathroom shirtless.

Her eyes flicked to him, trailing down his chest before she smiled and turned off the bedside lamp.

Bucky climbed into bed and didn’t waste a second. He reached for her immediately, wrapping one arm firmly around her waist and pulling her against him. She melted into his chest without hesitation, one of her legs slipping between his as she curled herself into him.

She let out a sleepy little yawn, her face pressing into the warm space beneath his collarbone, her limbs tangling with his like a koala clinging to a tree.

“It’s not the same without you here,” she mumbled into his skin, her voice muffled and soft—heavy with sleep. “The bed feels too cold. The room’s too quiet.”

His heart clenched.

“I know, sweetheart,” he murmured, brushing his lips against the top of her head. “I wish I could be here every night.”

She didn’t reply right away, only nuzzled closer, breathing slow and steady. He shifted slightly and slid his hand beneath the back of her shirt, resting it on the curve of her spine. His metal fingers moved in slow, calming strokes across her skin, tracing invisible lines that only she would ever feel.

“I’m here now, doll,” he whispered. “I’m here now.”

And within moments, her breathing evened out.

Her soft, quiet snores filled the room, brushing against the shell of his ear, the rhythm so gentle it made his chest ache with something tender.

Bucky stared at the ceiling for a while, arm still curled around her, listening to the sound of her sleep. He could feel the heat of her body pressed to his, could smell her shampoo, could still feel the last trace of her words lingering against his neck.

And for the first time in a long time, he let himself relax.

Oblivious to the fact that in just a few hours he would inflict pain upon the only person he cared about.

“Bucky?”

Her voice was soft—barely more than a whisper—but it cut through the silence like a thread pulling him back from the edge.

He blinked hard, shaking his head as if the movement alone could dispel the thoughts clawing at the back of his mind. He turned his eyes to her, forcing his focus onto the warmth of her body curled against his, the weight of her arm draped across his middle. She’s here. She’s okay.

“Hmm?” he hummed, the sound low and rough in his throat.

She shifted slightly, rubbing her cheek sleepily against his chest before hugging him tighter around the waist, her fingers curling into the fabric of his sweatpants. “Why are you still awake?” she mumbled, voice drowsy and laced with concern. “What’s on your—”

A yawn overtook her sentence. She stretched her legs out under the covers with a small groan, then blinked up at him again. “What’s on your mind?”

He smiled down at her, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. It looked real—it was real—but it was also taut at the edges. Strained.

He couldn’t speak.

Because there it was.

That scar.

Peeking out just beneath the edge of the shirt she wore—his shirt. The one that had once been pressed to his own skin. And now it covered the skin he had wounded.

It stared back at him like it was alive. Like it knew.

You caused this.

You hurt her.

The words rang out inside his head like a siren, and his chest tightened as the air seemed to thin around him.

His heart started to pound, thudding unevenly against his ribs. Faster. Louder. His breaths came in shorter pulls, and he tried to stay still, tried not to wake her further. But it was already too late.

“James?”

This time her voice was more alert. Her body shifted again, propping herself slightly on her elbow as she peered down at him, concern etched across her sleepy features.

But it sounded far away.

Like she was speaking to him through water.

Because his mind was no longer here.

It was there.

Back to that night.

To the screaming.

Her screaming.

To the blood on his hands—her blood. So red, so vivid. He remembered the way it had stained the floor, how her breaths had hitched in pain as she tried to tell him it was okay, how her eyes had looked up at him—not with fear, but with pain.

She hadn’t run. She had stayed.

But the look on her face… God, it haunted him.

It all came flooding in, wave after punishing wave. The chaos, the panic, the sound of his own voice yelling though he didn’t remember what he’d said. The blade in his hand. The way she’d flinched.

Bucky’s hand twitched where it rested on her back. He couldn’t breathe. His chest rose too fast, too hard. His body was locked in the past while the present begged him to stay.

But he let his body win.

Bucky woke with a violent jolt that night, his chest heaving like he’d just broken the surface after drowning. Sweat clung to his skin, cold and clammy, and his heart hammered against his ribs like it was trying to escape. The nightmare had dragged him back into the past—into the dark, sterile corridors of Hydra, where time didn’t exist and pain was routine. He could still feel the phantom sting of needles plunging into his veins, the bone-deep ache of forced obedience.

His hands trembled as if the electricity still surged through them. Eyes wide and unfocused, he sat up sharply, gasping for air like a man starved of oxygen. But there was no chair. No restraints. No Hydra. Just the soft sheets tangled around his legs and the quiet rhythm of nighttime silence.

And her.

He turned his head, searching instinctively for her form, and found it right beside him. She was sprawled across the bed, one arm flung over a pillow, mouth open, utterly at peace—mouth-breathing in the most ungraceful, perfect way. A soft, surprised chuckle broke from his chest, tight and short-lived but real. The panic ebbed, only slightly, replaced with something tender. Something grounding.

He reached over and gently pulled the blanket back over her shoulder, tucking her in with delicate fingers. She didn’t stir. Her face, unbothered by the chaos storming in his head, looked like something out of a dream he didn’t believe he deserved. His heart ached with the contrast.

Sliding out of bed, he padded quietly to the door, careful not to let it creak as he stepped out into the dim hallway. The kitchen was dark, lit only by the faint blue glow of the digital clock on the oven. He walked over to the counter and braced his palms against the cold marble, bowing his head.

He was still shaking.

The nightmare had been one of the worst in months—so vivid, so cruelly detailed. They’d strapped him down again. Injected him. Spoke about him like he wasn’t there, like he wasn’t human. Just a test subject. An object. A weapon. He could still hear the steel doors slamming shut, the echo of his own screams reverberating in his skull.

He straightened up slowly, trying to breathe, trying to push the memories back into the vault where they belonged. His eyes landed on the bowl of fruit she kept on the table. She’d insisted they needed it. Said it “made the place feel lived-in, like a real home.” He hadn’t understood what she meant at the time, but he did now. It was hers. All of this—the warmth, the softness, the small domestic things—was hers. And somehow, she let him exist in it too.

He reached out and picked up an apple, more for something to do with his hands than any hunger. Setting it down gently on the table, he turned and opened the knife drawer. His fingers closed around the handle of a blade, the weight of it familiar in his grip.

He held it up, examining how the metal caught the low light. It gleamed back at him, innocently enough, but all he could see was blood. All he could feel was the way his metal hand had once driven weapons into targets without hesitation. No questions. No mercy.

This hand had been used to destroy.

He stared down at it—silver, smooth, engineered to be perfect. Lethal. A constant reminder. Some days it felt like an anchor, other days like a cage.

Bucky clenched his jaw, muscles pulled tight beneath his skin as he gripped the knife. His movements became methodical, precise—instinctual. He sliced cleanly through the apple, each piece falling to the cutting board with soft, wet thuds. The repetition was grounding, in theory. But not tonight.

His mind betrayed him.

With every clean cut, his brain fed him flashes of another kind of blade. Of different hands—his hands—covered in blood, moving with the same controlled precision. He saw their faces. The terror in their eyes. Heard the way they screamed before silence swallowed them whole.

He flinched.

The knife scraped the edge of the counter, and his hand jerked, tremors dancing through his fingers. But he ignored it. Forced himself to slice again. Another piece of apple fell neatly, lifelessly.

And then—arms.

Two arms, soft and real, wrapped tightly around his chest from behind.

His heart plummeted to the floor, dread tightening like a noose around his ribs. His mind screamed one thing—they were back. Come to drag him under again. Without thinking, instincts buried deep in muscle memory took over.

Bucky spun on his heel, knife still clutched in his trembling hand. The shadows cloaked the figure behind him, and fear twisted reality. He reacted—fast, precise, just like he was trained to. A clean, practiced motion of survival.

The blade cut through flesh with a sickening ease.

Then—

A scream.

Bloodcurdling. Sharp. Human.

His heart stopped. His stomach twisted violently.

It was her.

She stumbled back in shock, a hand clutching her side as crimson began to spill through the fabric of her sleep shirt, painting it in thick, spreading red. Her knees buckled slightly, and she gasped, trembling, her voice caught between a cry and a whimper.

“Bucky!” she cried out, panic and pain tangling in her voice. “Oh my—oh my god!”

He stared at her, frozen, the knife still in his grip, slick with her blood. His eyes widened in horror.

“No—no no no—shit!” he choked out, finally dropping the blade. It clattered to the floor with a metallic clang. “I didn’t—I thought—I didn’t know it was you!”

She staggered, blood dripping onto the tile, and he lurched forward, catching her before she fell. Her body was trembling beneath his hands, and all he could feel was heat—sticky, hot, horrifying heat. Her blood.

“Oh god,” he breathed, voice cracking. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

She whimpered in his arms, clutching at the wound, trying to breathe through the pain. “It hurts,” she whispered. “Bucky, it—it really hurts.”

That snapped him out of it.

He moved fast.

Grabbing the nearest kitchen towel, he pressed it against the wound with steady, firm pressure, his own hands still shaking uncontrollably. “I know, I know—just stay with me, okay? You’re gonna be okay. I promise, baby, I promise.”

Tears stung his eyes as he looked down at her, her blood soaking through the towel and his shirt and his skin.

His fault.

All of it.

“I’m getting you help,” he whispered, more to himself than her. “You’re gonna be okay. Just—just keep your eyes on me. Please.”

And when she blinked up at him, dazed and in pain, he saw no fear.

Only hurt.

And that broke him more than anything else.

Bucky’s hands were slick with her blood, his fingers trembling as he clutched the kitchen towel tighter to her side. His breath came in ragged gasps, panic clawing at his chest like a vice. He balanced the phone between his shoulder and cheek, the screen glowing with Sam’s contact as it began to ring.

His voice broke before it even fully formed.

“I’m so sorry,” he choked, his eyes brimming with tears that threatened to spill over. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. God—I would never hurt you. I didn’t know it was you, I thought—” His throat closed up as his mind spiraled. “I thought they came back—I didn’t know—it was dark and I just—shit!”

He pressed harder on the wound, instinctively trying to stop the bleeding, and she let out a sharp cry of pain, her fingers digging into his arm.

“Bucky,” she gasped, blinking up at him through tears of her own, her voice small but steady. “B-Bucky, it’s okay. I—I know you didn’t mean it. It’s not your fault. I’m not mad at you.”

He froze.

Her words hit harder than the scream had. His stomach twisted violently, nausea crawling up his throat. He looked down at her—her face pale, her body shaking in his arms, bleeding because of him—and yet she was comforting him. Forgiving him.

How?

How could she say that?

How could she still look at him like that when her blood was soaking the floor beneath them?

“Bucky…” she called softly, her voice threading through the silence like a tether. He didn’t answer right away—just drew in a ragged breath, his arms locked around her like he was bracing for impact. His grip was firm, almost desperate, until he noticed the intensity of his grip—and when he finally realized it, he jerked his hand away like she’d burned him.

She frowned instantly at the absence, sensing the storm inside him. “James,” she repeated, a little firmer this time, her eyes searching his face. “I’m fine. I’m still here.”

But he didn’t look at her. He couldn’t. His head dipped low, eyes fixed on some point in the dark, jaw clenched so hard it looked painful. His chest rose and fell unevenly beneath her touch.

She sat up slightly without letting go, her arms still wrapped around his chest like a lifeline. “Buck,” she pressed gently, trying to reach the part of him that was spiraling. “Whatever’s going on in your head right now… it’s not the truth.”

“You should hate me,” he muttered suddenly, voice cracked and rough, like it physically hurt him to say the words. His shoulders curled inward, shame heavy on him like armor he couldn’t take off.

She froze at the rawness in his voice.

“I-I hurt you,” he choked, and his breathing turned ragged, chest hitching with guilt. “I put my hands on you. I—I lost control. And that… that’s not forgivable.”

His voice broke on the last word. He squeezed his eyes shut like if he didn’t see her, maybe he wouldn’t have to see the memory replaying in his mind—the moment he’d become the very thing he swore he’d never be. The thing he feared most.

“I didn’t mean to. God, I didn’t mean to—” he bit down hard on his bottom lip, hands shaking in his lap. “You don’t understand. I live every day trying not to be… him.”

Her heart splintered.

She leaned down and rested her chin gently on his sternum, forcing him to feel her warmth, her presence. “I do understand,” she murmured. “Better than you think.”

“I love you. Okay?” she continued, her voice tender but certain. “That’s not going to change. What happened… it was a mistake. But it was a moment. One moment. That doesn’t erase all the good. All the times you’ve held me when I cried. All the nights you stayed up because I couldn’t sleep. All the love you’ve shown me.”

He finally opened his eyes, blinking fast as if to stop tears from falling. “It doesn’t matter,” he whispered hoarsely, shaking his head. “None of it matters if I’m capable of hurting you.”

She felt the ache in those words like a punch to the chest. “It does matter,” she said quietly, lifting a hand to cup his cheek, guiding his gaze to hers. “It matters because you care. Because you didn’t know. Because you’re here, breaking yourself apart over something that didn’t even break me.”

He looked at her like she was the last bit of light in a collapsing world. Broken. Guilty. But still so desperately in love.

“I’m still here,” she repeated, softer this time. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She nestled against his chest, her arms weaving around his torso like she belonged there—like he hadn’t just shattered beneath the weight of his guilt minutes ago. Bucky let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, his body sagging under the sudden wave of relief that came with her touch.

She was really staying.

Despite everything—despite the darkness coiled in the corners of his mind, the nightmares that never fully ended, the ghosts that whispered he’d always be a danger—she was still here. Wrapped around him like he was something worth holding.

He tightened his arms around her slowly, carefully, like he was still afraid of hurting her. The scent of her shampoo, the feel of her steady breathing against his ribs—it grounded him, quieted the static in his head just long enough for a fragile peace to settle in his chest.

She stayed.

No one ever had before.

Not when it got bad. Not when the trembling hands started. Not when the cold sweats and flashbacks blurred the lines between reality and memory. They always left. But she hadn’t. She’d seen the worst and didn’t run—she chose to stay. And Bucky didn’t know what he’d done in this life or the last to deserve that kind of love.

He lowered his head and pressed a kiss to her lips—soft, tentative, reverent. A silent thank you. A desperate apology. A fragile promise all in one.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered against her mouth, his voice hoarse with emotion.

She smiled into the kiss, her fingers gently combing through the hair at the nape of his neck. “You deserve way more than you think, Buck.”

And just like that—like it always was with her—something inside him melted. The tight grip of shame loosened slightly, just enough to let in a flicker of warmth. He tucked his face into her hair, eyes slipping closed as her words echoed in his chest.

She didn’t say it to make him feel better.

She meant it.

And for the first time in a very long time, Bucky allowed himself to believe that maybe—just maybe—he wasn’t doomed to be alone forever. That maybe he could be more than what they turned him into. Maybe, with her, he could learn how to be whole.

He held her just a little tighter, not to keep her from leaving—but to remind himself that she was really there.

Still here.

And he wasn’t alone anymore.

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