#I see squirrel girl I’m happy

[mistress-of-words]

[msafterhours]

Two Hands

Male Reader x woo!ah! & EL7Z UP Nana (Nayeon)

~25k words

“We should do this more often,” Nayeon murmurs into your chest.

“I mean, sure, I’d be happy to come support your group any time I’m not—”

“No, not that!” she exclaims, giggling slightly as she pulls away just enough to look up at you.  “I mean this.”

And she pulls you in even tighter, leaving you short of breath in more ways than one.

Nights like this make you wish the world was a bit kinder to you.  You’re bundled under multitudes of layers of thick clothes, thin mask and scarf completing your near head to toe coverage, yet you still can’t seem to keep your teeth from chattering incessantly.  Your efforts manage to preserve some of your warmth, but another shiver reminds you of the urgent need to get inside and get some food inside of you.  It’s really, really cold outside.

Thus, you swear the gleaming gates of heaven themselves stand before you when you catch a glimpse of the bright lights of your favorite little ramen shop.  Fighting against the harsh winter air, you trudge through the icy slush, cursing the severity of the snowstorm and the stupidity of your decision to splurge on a new pair of casual shoes instead of investing in more functional footwear.  It’s really, really cold outside.

A sigh of relief escapes your lips as you open the door and feel the warm embrace of the heated air, but your solace is swiftly supplanted by dread as you look around and notice that the shop’s well over full capacity, with little if any seating room available.

"Whatever, let's just get in line and hope for the best," you think to yourself as you take your place in line behind a pair of old ladies.

“I swear, it was a rabbit that ran past us!” one exclaims.

“Absolutely not, I know a squirrel when I see one!” the other insists, stomping her foot in frustration.

tick...

tock...

After a few surprisingly entertaining minutes, you finally make it to the front of the line and the familiar face behind the counter.

"The same as the last hundred or so times?" the old lady asks with a wry smile.

"Hey hey hey, ninety-two times, thank you very much!" you answer with mock indignation.  "But yes, I’m well aware how much of my budget goes to your shop, Aunt Kim."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," she fires back, tapping away at the screen as she yells your order to the kitchen.  "Would you?"

"Absolutely not," you answer without hesitation as you leave a generous tip.  "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna attempt the impossible and try to find somewhere to sit in your stupidly crowded shop."

"Good luck!" she calls out as you turn and walk away.  "You're going to need it!"

You sweep the room once, twice.  Neither survey produces anything but depressing results.  A third time, just in case.  Nothing’s changed.  A heavy, dramatic sigh escapes you as you ready yourself to accept your seemingly inevitable fate.  But before you can concede, a bright glint in the corner of your vision offers hope, causing you to turn and find what you've been desperately looking for.

A girl, seemingly around your age, with glowing golden hair that shines brilliantly, reflecting the warm yellow lights scattered around the shop, sits alone.  Your heart leaps for joy as you see, most importantly, an unutilized chair across from her.  You cling to that shred of hope, quickly making your way over before coming to a stop in front of her table.

A few moments more than you can endure pass as she continues to tap away her phone, either not noticing your presence or choosing to ignore it.  Eventually, you clear your throat and wave your hand in front of her, causing her to jump slightly and finally look up at you.  Your eyes meet, and you feel the words escape your mind in the moment you hold her gaze.  It takes a second, then another, but you finally remember your goal and cease your staring.

"Um, sorry to bother you, but … there are no other seats available, and I really, really, don't want to have to go outside again yet," you hurriedly explain, praying to whoever’s listening that this random, empyrean being you just met might miraculously take pity upon you.  "Would it be alright if I sat here with you?"

She regards you for many moments, each feeling like an eternity as you stand there awkwardly.  She stares, deep into your eyes then deeper still, hunting an ulterior motive.  Her eyes flash and dart, scanning the singular you as if you’re an entire crowd.  You know not what she searches for, but whatever test of virtue you’re subjected to, she seems satisfied with the result as she nods and gestures to the seat across from her.

You finally release the breath you hadn't realized you were holding, thanking her profusely as you join her at the table.

Your display finally earns a crack in the ice, shifting her skeptical expression to one of sick amusement as she comments, "If you’re this scared of the cold, why are you out so late?  Surely you didn’t forget to go shopping before the snowstorm … right?  Surely."

You feel your ears burning with a warmth from deep, deep within as your embarrassment flares up.  Your initial response tells truths, but her smug expression leads your words elsewhere.  "Would you believe I just really wanted ramen from my favorite shop and was willing to suffer the consequences to do so?"

Her sinister smile widens as she leans in and counters, "I just might … if you didn't sound like a guilty schoolboy who got caught trying to copy someone's test answers."

She holds your gaze once again, deep brown eyes delving into the depths of your soul, trapping you within a pocket of agonizing silence amongst the shop’s raucous atmosphere.

"Well?" she whispers breathlessly.  "Are you gonna use your words?  Or are you just gonna let those firetruck red ears do the talking?"

You exhale heavily, feeling your faux hubris exit your body as you confess, "Alright, fine.  You got me.  No more lies.  I might've sorta ruined up my planning for the week and ran out of food last night, alright?  Now, please, I beg you, stop looking at me like that."

Your response catches her off guard, but you’re quick to join her in shock as she bursts into a quiet fit of laughter.  Her mirth immediately entrances you; each note a part of the chorus that dances on your eardrums and seals itself deep into your heart.

You wrack your brain for a proper retort, hoping to turn the tides of this war of words, but your rebuttal is prevented by the arrival of Aunt Kim with your meal.  You thank her profusely as she sets it down, earning a smile before she turns to address your companion.

"Would you like me to take your bowl, Nayeon?" she asks, smiling at your companion in a way you’d believed was reserved for only you.

"Yes please, thank you, ma'am," Nayeon responds, picking up the bowl and handing it to her.

"Bah, you and your stubbornness," Aunt Kim grumbles.  "With how often you come here, the formality just feels stuffy.  Just call me Aunt Kim like this other addict does."

“I could probably do that.  You could also agree to call me Nana like all my other friends do,” Nayeon answers back, a genuine smile gracing her features for the first time you’ve seen.

Aunt Kim rolls her eyes dramatically as she pats your head affectionately in the way she knows you hate, then walks away with that same warm smile that you’d thought was saved exclusively for you, but now know is also shared with the girl sitting across from you.

"Oh, you’re a regular too?" you ask as you begin to enjoy your meal.  "I'm surprised I haven't seen you before."

"I'm usually here later," Nayeon responds as she idly taps away on her phone again.  "Not huge on coming here when it's so busy."

"I totally get that.  I'm usually here earlier, before the big rush, but this week has been crazy.  Add the storm on top of that, and I guess that leaves me here, forced to settle for getting swept up in the dinner surge."

"Oh, so you're settling for my company, huh?  I see how it is," Nayeon replies, feigning indignation as she crosses her arms and huffs in disbelief.  "I guess next time a popsicle wants to share a table, I'll make sure to send him back to the freezer."

"Hey hey hey, easy now," you reply, raising your hands in surrender.  "I'm not a huge fan of this chaos either, but I am eternally grateful for your company and your great sacrifice of existing in my vicinity."

"You're very welcome," Nayeon offhandedly remarks.  "Your expression mid-head pat was almost hilarious enough to justify my continued tolerance of your presence."

And just like that, you feel the conversation derail, coming to a screeching halt as hints of embarrassment creep up your neck and render your face even more flush.  With a grumble and a rather undignified pout, you let your eyes fall to the far warmer bowl of ramen that awaits you and begin enjoying your meal, causing Nayeon to hum in amused satisfaction at your surrender as she returns to her phone and resumes tapping away at what sounds like a game.

While you'd begrudgingly admit that you’ve enjoyed the conversation thus far, you’re pleasantly surprised at how easy it is to simply enjoy the serene feeling of sharing Nayeon's company.  In fact, the silence grants you a brief chance to study the countenance of your dining companion, and you’re more than happy to seize the opportunity.

It seems that the only thing sharper than her words is her jawline, which is itself a sharp contrast from her other, softer features.  As much as you wish you could stare back into her eyes once more, her downward gaze and focus on her phone makes doing so impossible, "forcing" you instead to focus on her lips, which she occasionally bites in frustration, causing your heart to swell in a way that feels unsafe yet anything but unnatural.

"Enjoying the view?"

Well shit.

Your eyes barely have to drift upwards to meet her gaze, where her eyes await you once more with a scrutinizing yet intrigued twinkle.  While only moments ago you were wishing you could stare into her eyes once more, the combination of the intensity of her stare and your embarrassment forces you to look down in shame as you meekly mutter a quiet apology.

"Nah, you're not getting off that easily," Nayeon says, setting aside her phone and leaning in.  "What'd you think?  And please do be honest.  You wouldn’t want to break your promise, would you?"

After only a moment's hesitation, you stare back into her eyes and open the floodgates.

"Well, it's only been a couple minutes, but I've decided that I love the way your hair glows like golden honey in this light, I'm pretty sure your jawline is sharp enough to cut through diamond, and I'm definitely sure that if you keep biting your lip the way you do whenever you're focused or frustrated or whatever that I'm going to be too dizzy to walk home."

“...”

“...”

tick...

“Oh.”

tock...

The raucous atmosphere of the shop seems to once again fade away as you intently hold the gaze of the girl you recently met but feel like you’ve known forever.  You can’t shake this odd sense of familiarity, like you had seen her before somewhere, but can’t quite put your finger on where.

Regardless, by this point, the silence between you has stretched to an uncomfortable length of time.  After bearing it a moment longer as you attempt to gather your resolve, you ask, "So, uh, what do you think?  I mean, I'd also prefer it if you were honest, but I don't have a promise to hold you to, so I guess I'll just have to settle for asking nicely and hoping for the best?"

Your follow-up seems to finally shock Nayeon out of her reverie, leading her to finally pick her jaw up off the floor and respond, "I mean, okay, good to know.  A little much, not gonna lie, but keep talking like that and I might have to let you keep doing what you're doing.  Can’t say I hate the attention."

She pauses for a moment, allowing her eyes to run across your upper body before meeting your gaze once more and adding, "And hey, you're not too rough on the eyes either."

tick...

Only a single serene second slips by as you hold each other's gaze before you see inspiration flash across her visage.  The glimmer in her eyes is quickly joined by a familiar smirk as she glances down to your lips before returning to look you in the eyes.

Then she steals your heart.

Again.

With that unreasonably sultry lip bite.

Again.

"And I thought the cold was going to be the reason I died tonight," you whisper, quietly enough that only she could hear.

Just in case she hadn't yet properly staked her claim on your heart, Nayeon responds with potentially the only thing more charming than her lip bites; her laughter, which once again resonates across the table directly through your eardrums, across your inner bridge, and into your heart.

You open your mouth, hoping to continue the conversation further, but find yourself abruptly cut off by a sudden series of discordant cacophonies as her phone vibrates harshly against the wooden table.  You watch on in poorly hidden dismay as she checks it and her mirthful expression transforms into a grimace at the messages' contents.

"Ugh, I need to get back to my place," she explains as she begins to gather her things.

"Oh, okay," you sigh.  "Thanks again for letting me sit with you and for the … mostly pleasant conversation."

Her frown fades, revealing hints of the smile hidden within.  "Sure, no problem.  I'm sure Ms. Kim would have wanted me dead if she heard I mistreated her other major source of income."

You can’t help but chuckle at her words, though the laughter feels cheerless in the face of more pressing concerns.  "Am I going to see you again?"

Her eyes stare into your own once more, piercing through to your core.  "Who knows?  We've been coming to this shop as frequently as we have for as long as we have for who knows how long and haven't run into each other until now.  Who's to say it won't take another couple of years until our paths cross again?"

And with that sobering perspective, the girl you’ve come to know as Nayeon stands, giving you only the slightest nod in farewell before stepping away from the table.  You watch her as she takes her first few steps, feeling your heart sink lower and lower as the distance between you grows larger and larger.

tock...

But suddenly, you almost swear you can see a lightbulb go off above her head, causing her to turn and walk back to the table.

"You know, I never did catch your name," Nayeon remarks casually.

Despite the exhilaration of your heart soaring at her return, you try to maintain a neutral expression as you reply, "Perfect, now we both have a reason to meet again."

While it might just be your imagination, you dare to hope that it’s your words that transform her sly smirk into a genuine smile that reaches her eyes.

"Oh yeah?  What's your reason?"

"Who said I only have one?"

With her curiosity sated and ego sufficiently inflated, Nayeon gives you a small smile as a farewell, then turns and walks out of the ramen shop.  And as the clock ticks ever onward and you sit alone at the table, pondering what impact this night might have on the rest of your life, you can only hope that she hasn’t walked away for the final time.

tick...

tock...

tick...

tock...

It really was bearable the first couple of days.

But the days turned to weeks and the weeks turned to months and the months began to feel like years.  And as time mercilessly continues to pass by, you unsurprisingly find yourself increasingly affected by the thought of her.

You realized something was seriously wrong when entire weeks began to blur together and each visit to the ramen shop left you feeling colder and lonelier than your previous visit.  It isn’t long before the intrusive thoughts remodel your mind and claim it as their own, leaving you wondering if you had lost your love for your favorite restaurant and your best chance at love in a single night.  Despite the depressing potential of those dramatic notions, you attempt to cast them aside, instead focusing your efforts on maintaining your previous routine and, more importantly, meeting Nayeon again.

Since you assume Aunt Kim will rat you out to Nayeon if you’re too desperate in your attempts, you choose a more subtle approach.  Instead of showing up every night, you alter your schedule to better fit hers.  The awkward “middle” shifts at your work are rarely prioritized, so you’re easily able to make the change and justify your abnormally late arrivals to the shop.

However, your efforts fall short, leaving you wanting, craving even a glimpse of the radiant smile that graces your dreams far more often than you’d readily admit.  And even though you desperately want to ask Aunt Kim if she’s even seen Nayeon, you’re well aware that outside assistance would break the unspoken rules of the game.  So, even as your heart yearns for her, you choose to continue playing.  Even in the face of defeat, you persevere.

All the while, a nagging feeling remains in the back of your mind.  Though you can’t figure out why, you’re sure you know her from somewhere.  The passage of time allows that nagging to fester, growing exponentially until it becomes all you can think about.

It’s not long before the pressure becomes unbearable, forcing you to cave.  Nayeon’s a fairly popular name, but luckily, you’re able to fall back on her nickname of “Nana”.  Thus, on a day that’s become your new norm, you dedicate part of your shift to searching through Naver pages, eventually finding what you’ve been looking for.  Kind of.

You find that she’s the main dancer and leader of a girl group named woo!ah!, one of the seemingly endless number of new K-Pop groups that’ve slipped under your radar.  As you scroll through the pages and watch video after video, you unsurprisingly enjoy their music, yet feel a sense of unease grow with each passing video.  You’d expected feelings of excitement and joy to burst forth with each of Nayeon’s appearances, but instead you’re met by dread, trepidation, and a plethora of other unpleasant emotions that you can’t identify amidst the maelstrom rampaging in your heart.

You finish their MV playlist depressingly quickly, finding far more questions than answers at the end of this rainbow.  Unfortunately, before you can reach a satisfying conclusion, the clock strikes twelve and begins to sing, signaling the end of your shift.  After packing up your things, you depart, and, following a short bus ride, you arrive at the intersection where you turn right to visit the noodle shop once again.

And an hour later, after you’ve stood in line, placed your order, found somewhere to sit, enjoyed your meal, and looked over every square millimeter of the room, you find yourself alone.

Once.

Again.

tick...

tock...

Seemingly a moment later, you’re surprised to find yourself at home.  You rationalize that your body must have moved on its own and your brain must not have cared to encode the memory of walking this familiar path, but even this explanation leaves you with serious concerns.  As you reach into your pocket and feel the warmth from your fingers being sapped by the key’s cold metal, you simply feel … tired.

What’s the point of changing your routine if your days are bound to end the same as always?

What’s the point of searching for warmth if you continue to be left alone in the cold?

What’s the point of listening to your heart if all it leads you to is the deafening silence of your empty apartment?

You can feel it in the air as you turn the key, open the door, and enter the suffocating silence of your apartment.  The air’s cold.  Heavy.  The room’s dark.  Empty.  And you’re sure.  Ready.  As much as your heart yearns to chase Nayeon, your mind is telling you that it’s time.  Time to return to the routine you’ve relied on for so, so long.  You begin by sending a quick email to your supervisor, requesting a change back to your previous schedule.  Then, after a few more hours that won’t be worth remembering, you willingly wade into the darkness.

You mourn the loss of what could have been.  You allow the clouds to roll in, allow the falling rain to drown out the sounds of your heart beating against its cage and its cries for freedom.  You pray that the storm will wash away the memories of that night.  You hope, as desperately as ever, that you’ll find her.  But if your heart can’t have what it wants, you’ll ask your mind to forget her.

tick…..

tock.

tick…..

tock.

Is it eight days later?  Nine days?  Ten?  Your memory might have failed you again, but routine provides you necessary stability once more, helping you through the motions of working the once familiar morning shift before guiding you through the short bus ride to your stop and the subsequent walk to an always familiar intersection and a newly unwelcome decision.

If you simply continue forwards, you’ll arrive at your apartment, where you know that leftovers and loneliness amidst the silence of solitude awaits.  However, if routine truly is still in the driver’s seat, you’ll turn to your right, towards Aunt Kim’s, where you know that ramen and loneliness amidst the voices of others awaits.

Thus, despite the clear blue sky and the bright sun that signaled the early signs of winter’s departure, decision paralysis sets in.  The light flashes yellow, yet you need to decide, now.  Then, it flashes red, yet you know you need to go.  Finally, the indicator flashes green, yet you remain motionless as the crowd begins to surge past you.

It’s there, in that moment, where you stop fighting anxiety’s powerful pull, allowing it to drag you under, away from your routine.  It’s there, in that moment, where you give up, instead electing to return home.  Yet, it’s there, in that moment, where you feel a gentle tug on your arm and see a flash of warm golden light in your periphery.

"Come on, you gotta get there before it gets busy," Nayeon whispers, mock urgency masking her features and veiling her words.  "Otherwise, you might have to ask some weirdo if you can share a table with them."

You’re all too eager to allow yourself to be dragged along, heart nearly bursting out of your chest as you loudly exclaim, “Nayeon!  I—”

Your words are a jumbled mess, bouncing around the inside of your skull, desperately trying to escape all at once, but you hold them all back as the other pedestrians turn, glaring at you as they judge your sudden outburst.  Once you finish offering meek smiles and apologetic waves, you whisper back, “You’re right, that sounds terrible!  Let’s go!”

As she continues to drag you along, you take the opportunity to study the beaming visage of your guide once more.  The passage of time allows you to view the literal girl of your dreams in a new light, and you find Nayeon’s just as radiant in today’s pleasant sunshine as she was so many weeks ago, hidden away from the harsh snowfalls of the early Korean winter.

"What should I say?" you wonder to yourself as you allow her to lead you down the busy sidewalk.  "Would it be too forward to say I missed her after only meeting her once before?"

A familiar cadence, the ringing of a very particular bell, cuts your internal musings short, shunting you back into reality as Nayeon opens the door to Aunt Kim's ramen shop.  Nayeon finally detaches from your arm, leaving you feeling cold and empty.  Not unlike your freezer that fateful night, so many months ago.

After shaking off the last remnants of your reverie, you step forward and join her in line.  Despite being a fair bit taller than her, you can’t seem to make out what exactly she’s doing on her phone as you both wait to place your order.

It only takes a few moments of snooping before a wave of guilt washes over you as you realize your invasion of her privacy, causing you to shift your gaze elsewhere, to other areas of the shop.  Areas such as the table where you had sat the previous time, which currently sits unoccupied.

"Another missed opportunity," you think to yourself as you grieve the lost potential and come to another realization.  "Not to mention the fact that she held the door for me because I was so lost in thought!  Ugh, you're blowing it!  Stop overthinking everything."

After a few short minutes idly spent looking anywhere except towards Nayeon, all of the customers in line in front of you finish placing their orders and go to find a seat.  You aren’t surprised as Nayeon needs mere moments to recite her clearly well-practiced offer, but you are caught off guard when Aunt Kim leans close to Nayeon, whispering something you can’t make out amidst the low murmur of the crowd inhabiting your second home.

The rational part of your brain informs you that, at most, a few seconds pass.  Your emotions tell a far different story, flooding your overwrought mind with a deluge of disquieting dangers and forcing you to consider each of the painful possibilities and worst-case scenarios that comprise the tsunami attempting to drag you into the depths of self-doubt.  Eventually, the two part, and as Nayeon turns to face you, her mischievous expression and gleaming smile ignites a flame in you, burning away any frost that’s formed since you left her embrace.

Her eyes flick over towards Aunt Kim, seemingly challenging you to approach the elderly woman who stands behind the counter with crossed arms and a dangerously amused expression.  This time, however, Nayeon doesn’t even give your words enough time to get caught in your throat, instead simply walking past you and allowing the silky strands of her hair to brush your shoulder and convey all the intent she needs to.

As you gather what little cognitive function remains, you’re especially grateful for the familiarity of this place as Aunt Kim enters your order with well-practiced quickness.  You’re uncharacteristically afraid of meeting her eyes as you sign your name and begin to enter the same generous tip you’ve always given, but her scoff of indignation as you meekly hold out your hand for your order number forces you to do so.

"So." she says bluntly, withholding the plastic indicator as she awaits your response.

"Yes ma’am?” you ask, voice laced with saccharine innocence.

“Oh gods, don’t tell me that that girl’s stubbornness has infected you too,” Aunt Kim responds exasperatedly.  “You finally managed to meet up with her again, eh?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you respond as you delete your previous number, instead entering an extra-large tip before braving Aunt Kim’s gaze once more, silently conveying your plea for mercy as you literally attempt to buy her silence.

Aunt Kim’s eyes flash down briefly, widening for a moment before a deep, jovial laugh echoes out from her, reverberating throughout the room as she holds your gaze once more.

“All right, act sly all you like.  I'm just tired of seeing someone come in alone fifty times in a row just to spend their time here hoping and searching for a certain someone.”

The banter is unique, odd, and comfortably routine as you ease into its familiar warmth.  Your brow arches dramatically as you declare, “Why Aunt Kim, I can’t stand these accusations!  It’s only been forty-six times since then!”

You watch as Aunt Kim’s smile fades, shifting from a display of mirth to a thin obfuscation of sadness as she responds, “You’re not the only one who’s been sitting alone at a table for two.  Now go!”

And as she pushes your number into your hands and sends your mind into a tailspin, you’re left with no other option but to turn and allow the next customer to set up.  Your body’s autopilot takes over, turning you further until you face the table where this all started, only to find it occupied.

By none other than Nayeon herself.

You lock eyes for the briefest of moments before she avoids your gaze, poorly pretending to be enthralled by the black screen of her phone.  As the slightest hints of confidence begin to emerge from within, you walk up to the table, acting as casually as you can, pulling out a chair and taking a seat across from her.

After offering up a prayer to whoever’s listening, desperately hoping that you wouldn’t blow this chance, you look straight at her and ask, “So, how have you been?”

“Oh, so we’re just getting right into it, huh?” Nayeon asks, already crafting the thin veneer of the haughtiness she’d used to shield herself before.  “Not even going to thank me for saving you a seat?  I know you’ve had issues finding them before.”

You raise your hands up in mock surrender as you admit, “Alright, fair enough.  I am very grateful for your act of charity once again, and I’ll be sure to make it up to you.”

“I’m glad to see you’ve come to your senses,” she declares, obvious satisfaction in her smirk as she nods in approval.  “To answer your question, I’ve been fortunate enough to be busy, so that’s always good.  Aside from work, I guess it’s mostly just been working out, spending time with those I’m closest to, and coming here.  What about you?”

“I’ve …” your voice trails off for a moment, granting you silence as you meticulously craft your next line.  “I’ve had better months, but I honestly can’t complain too much.  Work’s been consistent, so like you said, that’s always good.  Plus, I always have this place to come back to, so that’s a big plus.”

“So, you come here often?” Nayeon asks, waggling her eyebrows in the most tropey, dramatic way possible.  It’s clearly meant to be humorous, and you’re all too eager to reward her efforts with a smile.  You just also hope it buys you time to reclaim the breath she steals so easily.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that," you say, chuckling slightly as you struggle against all the unwelcome thoughts and emotions that continuously threaten to boil over.  "Especially the past couple of months, I'm fairly sure I've made a sizeable contribution to the 'Kim Family College Fund'.  What about you, have you also been a generous donor?"

And there it is.  For the first time since that night a lifetime ago, your words strike a chord, and your just reward is the melodious laughter that bursts free from the alluring lips of Nayeon before gently drifting across the table and imprinting itself once again upon your soul.  And all you can wonder is why you’d ever choose to stop chasing her.

After the briefest of stanzas, her mirthful song quiets and her words shift to a whisper.  "Listen, if my friends ever find out just how often I've been coming here and how much I've spent, it’ll be the last day I see the sun!  So shhh!"

The quiet laugh that resonates out straight from your heart may not be planned or voluntary, but anyone paying a modicum of attention can easily tell it’s genuine.  You feel free, weightless even, to an extent you haven’t felt since a certain night so many weeks ago.  And as you savor this moment of warmth, of dethawing even, you’re glad to see that same joy mirrored in the eyes and smile of Nayeon too.

"Alright, fair enough.  Not a word to your friends, and you won't rat me out to mine?  Deal?"

"Deal!" she responds eagerly, extending her hand out to shake yours.

Without hesitation, you reach out and seal the pact, cherishing the influx of warmth generated by even the swiftest second of your fingertips grazing the soft skin of her palm.

But then, just like that, it’s gone.  The briefest moment of contact ends all too soon, and you find yourself in silence once more.

Fortunately, this time it doesn’t last, as Nayeon speaks up once more.

"So … any particular reason you've been around more often recently?" she asks as she looks around in a familiar pattern, seemingly fascinated by the decorations of the place she must have visited hundreds of times.

"I might have a reason," you respond suavely as you lean back in your chair.  "Maybe even a couple."

"Oh yeah?" she asks, ending her search as she reaches her destination: your eyes.  "Pardon my vanity, but is there any chance … I’m one of those reasons?"

In this moment, this secular moment of confession, this seductress needs no lip bites nor any promises of sweet nothings to ensnare your heart even further.  All you need is to look into her eyes, where you see the same earnest anticipation mirrored within your own soul.

So, in this moment, you give yourself no time to second guess yourself, acting on pure instinct as you take out your heart, affix it to your sleeve in full view of everyone within the restaurant, and admit, "Yeah, I mean, you’re the only reason that mattered.  I guess … I was scared of the thought of never seeing you again.  I really missed you."

tick...

Another moment passes.  But this stretch of silence is far shorter than the last and her response is far quicker than last time you’d shared a confession.  This time, it’s her words that shock you.

"Thanks, I … uh, really missed you too," she whispers softly, perhaps trying to preserve the serenity of this moment between the two of you.

tock...

Milliseconds begin to feel like minutes as you desperately rack your brain, searching for an adequate continuation to the conversation.  Fortunately, just as desperation tips over into despair, none other than Aunt Kim comes to your rescue, carrying a pair of bowls in her hands and a complicated collection of emotions across her countenance.

First, she offers Nayeon her warm bowl with an even warmer smile, which Nayeon is happy to return in kind.  Then, just as you recover from being blinded by Nayeon’s radiance, Aunt Kim turns to you, deliberately holding back your bowl as she offers nothing but a quirked eyebrow and an expectant expression.

You raise your hands in surrender once more, internally cursing the developing trend as you ask, “What, Miss Aunt Kim, could you possibly be expecting from me?  Ma’am.”

You aren’t sure if it’s your sheepish expression or Aunt Kim’s sigh of exasperation that sparks it, but whatever semblance of a train of thought you’d begun crafting is sent careening off the rails by the return of that same singsong laughter that’s lifted your spirits up from the depths they’d plummeted to.

While Nayeon continues her chorus of joy, you watch as Aunt Kim’s frosty exterior thaws, causing her to gently place the bowl in your hands before pulling away just the slightest bit.

“I’m just glad things finally lined up,” Aunt Kim says with a knowing smile and another ruffling of your hair that earns another round of laughter from Nayeon.

Finally, that last embarrassment inflicted, Aunt Kim elects to leave you in peace.

After months of waiting, the culmination of all your fantasies is … a conversation.  About nothing.  About everything.  About your job as an editor at a K-Pop news / blog site and how the recent schedule change left you saddled with a writer who’d recently gotten in trouble for “not including all the members when describing a group’s latest comeback” or something.  About her job as an idol and the years of struggle and the stress of debuting and her relationships with her members and fan interactions and on and on and on.

It’s the most mundane human experience you’ve ever had, but it’s warm.  It lasts from your usual arrival time until Nayeon’s usual time of departure, yet time seems to pass by in an instant.  It’s nothing you would have expected yet everything you could possibly ask for, like a waking dream.  It’s almost unfathomable how much you enjoy yourself.

It also has to end.

“Hey,” Nayeon says suddenly, allowing her voice to soften.  “The shop’s closing soon.”

“Oh, right,” you say, feeling your smile fade for the first time in hours.

“We should, uh …”

“Yeah, let’s—”

“Yeah.”

The dusty old chairs creak against the stained floorboards of the shop as you both slowly slide them back, hoping that your sluggish movements will elongate this experience.  Each of you bids farewell to Aunt Kim in your own special way, then turn to depart.  And as you open the door for her and the brisk evening wind leaves you scrambling for the right words, it’s Nayeon who finds her courage first.

“We’ll be performing next Saturday,” she begins, speaking just loud enough for her words to reach your ears before the cruel winds can whisk them away.  “I understand if you’re busy, but—”

“I’ll be there.”

And just as the door closes and you put forth your promise, the jingle of the bells and Nayeon’s relieved laughter join in harmony, creating a melody that wraps itself around you and promises to protect you from the cold.

“I haven’t even told you where it is yet!” she exclaims, meeting your eyes once more.

“Then I should probably give you my number, no?” you counter, holding her gaze as she looks back with the softest eyes and warmest smile.

“That sounds like a great idea,” Nayeon says, eagerly pulling out her phone and handing it to you.

You quickly punch in the digits and hand it back to her, earning a frown in response.

“What is it?”

“You still haven’t told me your name.”

So, you tell her.  And she repeats it back to you.  And it’s no surprise that the sound of your name in her mouth is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard.  And you’re still reeling from that when she texts you, “Hi it’s me!🐇”.  And when you finally manage to tear your eyes from the screen, you’re met with the sight of her meekly looking down at the sidewalk below.

“Hey,” you say softly, giving her a moment to meet your eyes before opening your arms.  “You—”

Your words don’t even have a chance to be whisked away by the cruel winds before Nayeon darts over and crashes into your chest, driving the air from your lungs as she wraps her arms around you.  Instinctually, you wrap your own arms around her, holding her close and refusing to let go.

“Stay warm, okay?” you whisper, only for her ears.

“I think I’ll be just fine,” she whispers back, just as softly.

And it’s hard when you two untangle yourselves.  And it’s harder to say goodbye.  And it’s nearly impossible to turn away.  But it’s easy to turn back and look at her.  And you see Nayeon walking, no, almost skipping away down the sidewalk.  And you know that the months-long wait was worth it.  And the next ten days will feel like a decade.

But that’ll be worth the wait too.

tick…

tock…

tick…

tock…

This time, you know exactly how long it’s been.  You’ve checked the clock every hour of the past ten days, desperately awaiting the chance to see her again.  Absolutely dreading the thought of seeing her again.

Your anxiety certainly isn’t helped by the sea of lightsticks and legions of chanting fans wielding them.  Amidst this squall of rabid passion, you can’t help but feel underprepared.  You can’t help but feel nervous.  You can’t help but feel insignificant.

Fortunately, by the time you’re able to make your way up closer to the front, the performances have started and begun to wash away some of that negativity.  You lose yourself in the stages, showing support to these young adults, these kids, who’re giving everything they have to try and achieve their dreams.  It really is an enjoyable way to spend an afternoon.

Yet your throat still dries up when you hear them announce who’s performing next.  All of a sudden, the room floods, dragging you under; the blood rushes in, waves deafening you.

tick…

They come out on stage.

tock…

Your eyes can’t look anywhere else.

tick… tock…

“Nana” says something that you can’t hear.

tick…tock…

They get in position. tick..tock..tick.. They begin. ticktockticktockticktocktick

And then, just like that, it’s over.  The performance ends and the group bids the crowd farewell, leaving you with far fewer thoughts than you anticipated but far more emotions than you’re prepared for.  At the forefront of your mind, a singular idea, the catalyst of the storm, reverberates incessantly with a single realization.

Nayeon’s eyes didn't meet yours a single time throughout the whole performance, yet she spent the entire time smiling brighter than you’ve ever seen.

You somehow manage to stumble through the crowd, moving towards an exit as they roar in excitement at the announcement of the next performers, a group you’ve followed since debut and one you like quite a lot.  A group that doesn’t matter.

It’s only once you get outside, once you’re able to take a moment amidst the early evening air, that your breathing begins to slow.  It’s there that the blood pumping in your ears begins to settle.  It’s there that the vibration on your leg nearly makes you jump out of your skin.  But once you nail the three-point landing, you pull out your phone and read the new message:

Nayeon 🐇 (6:02pm):  Hey, were you able to make it?  I just peeked my head out but couldn’t find you anywhere.

You (6:03pm):  I did!  Sorry, I just stepped outside after watching your performance, needed some air

You (6:03pm):  You guys were great!

Nayeon🐇 (6:03pm):  Awww, thanks so much!!

Nayeon🐇 (6:03pm):  You should come around the back, I wanna introduce you to everyone!

Nayeon🐇 (6:04pm):  Meet me at door E35, I’ll let you in

You (6:06pm):  Sure, I’m on my way

You hit send, finally responding after needing a minute to calm the upswell of sanguine tides that continue to thrash within.  Your steps are heavy, echoing loudly throughout the packed parking lot and even louder in your mind as you begin discerning which feelings surround this storm’s catalyst.  

The unfamiliar feeling doesn’t remind you of the anxiety you’ve faced before, nor does it remind you of the self-doubt you’ve suffered in your past.  No, when you round the corner to see Nayeon’s head poking out the door, looking for you, and you hear the crowd’s thunderous applause, you know exactly which ugly emotion torments you.  And despite having no right to feel the way you do, you know that jealousy gnaws at your core.

So, when Nayeon turns and locks eyes with you, you hope your smile shows delight, not despair.  And while you don’t quite match the radiance of her reaction, you’re inviting enough for her to throw open the door and begin dashing towards you.  Fortunately, your limbs seem to have higher priorities than jealousy, as you too begin closing the distance and opening your arms, meeting her halfway and tightly wrapping your arms around her as she does the same to you.

Your ability to string together sentences escapes you as you hold her close, feeling her heartbeat hammer against your chest at as rapid a pace as your own.

“We should do this more often,” Nayeon murmurs into your chest.

“I mean, sure, I’d be happy to come support your group any time I’m not—”

“No, not that!” she exclaims, giggling slightly as she pulls away just enough to look up at you.  “I mean this.”

And she pulls you in even tighter, leaving you short of breath in more ways than one.

“But also, thank you for coming to see us perform.  You have no idea how much I appreciate it.”

“Of course,” you say, heart penning your words before your brain can intervene.  “Anything for you.”

“Anything?” Nayeon asks incredulously, finally breaking the hug as the mischievous glint in her eye returns.  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“I stand by my word,” you respond, acting far more confidently than you truly feel.  “Besides, how dangerous could you possibly be?”

“Are you looking to find out?” she asks, smiling deviously as you see the turning gears in her head shift into overdrive.

“Maybe one day,” you say with a shrug.  “Must admit, it’s not high on my list of priorities though.”

“Oh yeah?  What’s number one?”

“Why spoil the surprise?  Gotta keep you coming back somehow.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise as Nayeon scoffs in response.  “Yeah, like that’s a concern.”

“I, uh, thanks?” you sputter, unable to do anything further as the mechanisms of your mind malfunction.

“Oh!” she exclaims, face alight with merriment and mischief alike.  “You are in danger.”

All you can do is shrug.  Why try to hide what you both know to be true?  Why not join her in laughter instead?

“Hey,” you say a few seconds later as you catch a brief glimpse of your breath in the air.  “We should get you inside, it's too cold for you to be out here in a sleeveless top and those ‘shorts’.”

“What do you mean?” Nayeon asks incredulously.  “I think my stylist absolutely nailed it today.”

“Yeah, like anything you wear could look bad,” you scoff.  “I'm just worried about you turning into a popsicle.”

“Oh?  I guess I'll just have to find someone to keep me warm,” she drawls as she walks back to the door.  “You wouldn't mind, would you?”

“Of course not.”

“Of course not,” she repeats, flashing the smallest of smirks your way before turning back and stepping up to the door.  “Anything for me, right?”

“I mean …” you begin to say.  Unfortunately, your train of thought is brought to a screeching halt by the rather rude sound of the unmoving door handle within Nayeon’s grasp.

“Wonderful,” Nayeon says, exasperation coating her words as she runs her fingers through her hair.  “And on the one day I forgot to charge my phone too.”

“You can borrow mine,” you offer, reaching into your pocket and holding it out to her.  “Can you call someone inside who can open it?”

“Yes, I can!” she says, eagerly accepting your offer and taking your phone.  “Give me a second, I'll see if Wooyeon's willing to help.”

A few moments later, after she's punched in the numbers and the phone's begun to ring, she looks up with that same cheeky smile she wears so frequently around you.

“Guess you're stuck with me a bit longer,” she dramatically declares.

“Woe is me,” you respond in kind, pressing the back of your hand to your forehead like you're about to faint.

Nayeon opens her mouth to fire back, but her reply is superseded by a muffled, vaguely familiar voice emanating out from the speaker.

“Hey, it's me,” she remarks casually, as if calling someone from a random number is a totally normal thing to do.  “I need—”

She stops mid-sentence, seemingly allowing the person on the other end to voice their apparently substantial list of frustrations at Nayeon. 

“Yeah, I, uh, sorry about slipping away like that,” Nayeon replies sheepishly as her cheeks flare in an entirely new way.  “It's a very long story that I very much don't want to get into tonight, but can you please come open door E35?  I might have locked myself out.”

It's a tense few moments of silence before Nayeon gets a response.  What you assume to merely be a few words at most still manages to shock Nayeon, leaving her wide eyed as she responds, “That's a lot to ask for just—”

Her words are suddenly cut off by what you assume to be Wooyeon's response, causing Nayeon to roll her eyes in resignation before responding, “Okay!  Sure, fine.  Both rooms, before the performance on Wednesday.  Got it.”

“Alright, see you soon,” she continues.  “And Wooyeon?  Thank you.”

“Here, thanks for letting me borrow that,” Nayeon says, handing you back your phone.

“Of course,” you respond.  “What were you two arguing about?”

“Honestly it was more bargaining than arguing,” Nayeon groans, throwing her head back in frustration.  “A trade I horribly lost, mind you.   Apparently in her mind, a three-minute walk is worth me having to clean both bedrooms at the dorms.”

“That seems … harsh,” you say, earning a shrug in response.

The silence goes unbroken for a minute.  Then another.  But when it's finally broken, it's not by words, but the chattering of teeth.  Hers.

Fortunately, your movements are so instinctual that by the time your brain has even begun to consider overthinking things, you've already taken off your jacket and wrapped it around her.  Nayeon’s shivering swiftly slows, but you leave your arm wrapped around her.  Just in case.

tick…

tock…

It ends up being ten minutes, not three, that you share in silence.  Not that either of you notice or care.

As soon as you hear the handle begin to turn, you immediately pull away, earning the smallest of whines from Nayeon before she too hears the door opening and turns towards it.

“There you are!” both girls exclaim as you see one of the other members from the earlier performance poke her head out.

“What took you so long?” Nayeon asks.  “I thought it'd take four minutes max to find us.”

“Listen, we can discuss whether or not I got lost once you get inside,” Wooyeon huffs in response.  “Come on, it's freezing out here!”

“You're telling me,” you mutter, causing Nayeon to quietly chuckle as she looks up at you with wide, apology-filled eyes.

You both follow Wooyeon inside, where Nayeon introduces you to one another and informs Wooyeon that she had invited you.  After an exchange of slightly awkward bows, Wooyeon speaks up.

“Okay, so this story involves you and a guy, alone, in the middle of a parking lot on a dark and stormy evening?  I don't care how long it is, you're telling me everything.”

“I … fine.  We can talk on the drive back,” Nayeon begrudgingly accepts.

“Good.  Speaking of, we should head back.  Now, preferably.  They're probably waiting on us,” Wooyeon says, shooting you a sympathetic glance.

“Hey, it's alright,” you tell Nayeon as she turns to look at you.  “I'm just glad I got to see you.  The performance and everything else were just icing on the cake.”

“Everything else, huh?” Wooyeon asks, seemingly more invested suddenly.  “How late is this story going to keep me up?”

“Oh relax,” Nayeon scoffs, shaking her head at Wooyeon's instigation attempts.

“But seriously,” she says to you.  “Thanks for being understanding.”

“Also, thanks for this,” Nayeon continues, smirking at you as she points to your jacket.

“Of course,” you immediately respond.  “Anything for you.”

You watch as Nayeon’s cheeky expression morphs into confusion, like your response was outside the rules of the game you’re both playing.

“I, uh, thanks?” she sputters.  But that confusion doesn't last, and a warm smile is quick to replace it.

“Here then,” she murmurs, closing the distance between you two quicker than you're able to respond.  “This is for you.”

And there's a lot of small details that you'll forget in hindsight.  Like the way Nayeon stands up on her tiptoes, or how she tilts her head just the slightest bit, or even the glittery eyeshadow that gleams in the light.  But there's one detail you'll remember.  Because you'll never forget the feeling of her soft lips against your cheek.

You can't help but hate the moment she pulls away.  But when she locks eyes with you, you're brave enough to hope that you'll feel that sensation again.

“Bye,” she whispers.

“Bye.”

“...”

“...”

“Bye?” Wooyeon says, offering you a slightly awkward wave as you turn to face her.

You look back to Nayeon, and neither of you can help but laugh at Wooyeon's shell-shocked expression.  One theatrical sigh and an eye roll later, Wooyeon turns and begins to walk away.

“Bye Wooyeon!” you call out at the retreating form.  “Hopefully next time we meet, it'll be a little more normal!”

“Hard not to be!” she calls back, earning another duet of laughter from you and Nayeon.

“I should probably follow her,” Nayeon says.  “We're performing Wednesday night, so I guess I'll see you at the shop on Thursday?  Unless you—”

“I'll be there,” you say, fighting back the jealous feelings that surge up at the thought of her performing again.

“You're the best,” she says, throwing her arms around you for the briefest of moments before turning and hurriedly following Wooyeon.  “I'll text you the location!”

“Sounds good, see you there!” you call out in response.  You can't help but feel glued to the floor as you watch her walk away, remaining motionless until she rounds a corner and leaves you alone in the hallway.

An odd mix of emotions twirls around your mind as you depart the building.  Many of them, the vast majority even, are undeniably positive.  But voices, ones eerily similar to those found in the fanchants from earlier, echo in the back of your mind and entrench those unshakable feelings of jealousy.

But even as the bus takes you away and you pray to reach home before the rain begins to fall, you know that this inner storm isn't one you can outrun.

tick…

tock…

tick…

tock…

You hope that you’re as good at hiding your emotions as you think you are.  Because the way you feel when you’re with Nayeon, your friend, when you’re both excitedly talking a little louder than you should be and occasionally have to pause the conversation to apologize to the other customers nearby, it’s euphoric.  It’s exhilarating.  It’s everything you could have ever dreamed of and more.

And it could not be more different than the way you feel when you’re with “Nana”, the idol.  Because you should still feel that euphoria, that elation.  You have no reason not to, especially since Nayeon acts the same way, even going so far as to find time somewhere in her crazy schedule when you two can meet.  The joy you find in those moments should be enough.  But your jealousy proves gluttonous, leaving you with an awful feeling in the pit of your stomach that grows harder to ignore.  It’s inescapable.  It’s everything you can’t control threatening to take away everything you hold dear.

And you haven’t the slightest fucking clue what to do.

Unfortunately, the tempest doesn’t give you much time to find a solution before boiling over.  It’s only a couple of weeks and a handful of performances later when Nayeon pulls you into a small alcove hidden amongst the towers of sound equipment and piles of wires.  Almost immediately, she begins sharing a story about a fan interaction, further fanning the flames of the ugly side of your emotions.

It’s not long before you’re overwhelmed by the turbulent emotions within.  Nayeon’s in the middle of a sentence when you lean in, cupping her cheek in one hand as you press your lips against hers.  You kiss her gently at first, but after her initial shock, she begins to kiss you back.  Firmly.  Insistently.  You let the sounds of the nearby stage abate, allowing yourself to instead lose yourself in the only senses that matter right now.

Like how the smell of her conditioner reminds you of coconuts and cherry blossoms.  Or how she tastes sweeter than honey.  Or how her lips are somehow softer than clouds.

You pull away only once oxygen deprivation forces you to, leaving you both staring at each other as you desperately attempt to catch your breath.

“I’m so sorry,” you say as soon as you’re able to.  “I shouldn’t have—”

“Don’t you dare apologize,” Nayeon interjects.  “Shut up and kiss me again.”

This time, she catches you off-guard as she leans in, pulling your head down slightly as she kisses you with as much intensity as before, if not more.  You’re more than willing to match her zeal, eliciting murmurs of satisfaction and small gasps for air from her as you battle back and forth.

It’s intense.  It’s electrifying.  It’s everything you’ve ever wanted and—

“There you are—oh!”

You and Nayeon hastily separate and turn to face the unexpected spectator, finding none other than poor Wooyeon and her shell-shocked expression awaiting you once again.

“Wooyeon?!  I, you, we, uh …” Nana says, trailing off mid-sentence as she steps away from you and attempts the futile task of trying to return her hair to some semblance of normalcy.

“We have to figure out a better way for you to introduce me to your friends,” you tell Nana, earning a stare of disbelief from her and an unexpected bit of melodious laughter from Wooyeon.

“You seriously do!” Wooyeon exclaims, fanning her face in an attempt to disperse the crimson flooding her cheeks.  “Honestly, I hate that they keep sending me to find you two, why can't it be Sora getting traumatized for once?”

“Because they know you're way too good at finding things for your own good, especially us apparently,” Nayeon says, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration.

“Oh, don't worry!  I won't tell …” Wooyeon trails off for a moment, looking at Nayeon slyly.  “Too many people.”

“Hey!” Nayeon exclaims.  “Be careful what you wish for, I'm sure plenty of people would be interested in my stories about you.”

“That wasn't what I'd hoped to hear, but you can write me an apology later,” Wooyeon fires back, turning her head away from Nayeon to hide the red that refuses to leave her cheeks.  “I hate to do this again, but we really do need to get going.”

Nayeon's indignation seems to flare even further as she steps closer to Wooyeon, but you can't help but chuckle at the image of the shorter Nayeon attempting to intimidate the much taller Wooyeon.  Nayeon spares a moment to glare at you before turning back to Wooyeon and saying, “Listen, I'm sure we can—”

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” you interject.  “I’m sure we’ll have time to talk later, right Nayeon?”

“Oh sure, I’m positive that she’ll have plenty of time for a lovely conversation later,” Wooyeon comments, earning a glare from Nayeon that’d likely be scathing if not for the obvious embarrassment coloring her countenance.

“Hey, not so loud!” you jest, smiling just as wide as Wooyeon.  “Seriously though, I really am sorry Wooyeon.   I’ll make it up to you sometime, hopefully next time I see you.  Surely next time we meet it’ll be more normal, right?  Surely?”

“Suuurrrelyyyy,” Wooyeon responds, stringing out the single word just long enough to fit every emotion other than sincerity into its delivery.  She takes the opportunity to step away from Nayeon, who seems temporarily frozen between states of frustration, embarrassment, and something else entirely.

“Hey, no worries,” you gently tell Nayeon, taking her hands in your own and turning her to face you.  “Your members need you.”

“Besides, you should probably go willingly before Wooyeon drags you back, kicking and screaming the whole way,” you joke, smiling as Wooyeon grins and hums in agreement.

“Surely you wouldn't do that to me, right Wooyeon?” Nayeon asks, turning and pouting at her in an exaggeratedly cute manner.

“The option's never been more tempting,” Wooyeon replies, sticking out her tongue in response.

“Okay okay fine, I surrender,” Nayeon tells her, raising her hands in a manner all too familiar to you before turning back to you.  “I'll see you Saturday?”

“Wouldn't miss it for anything,” you tell Nayeon, pulling her into a tight hug that finally dispels the vast amount of tension she'd built up in such a short time.

“Neither would I,” Nayeon murmurs back before pulling away just enough to capture your lips one final time.

“Alright, let's go,” Nayeon tells Wooyeon, interlocking arms with her as they begin to walk away.

“So, for the first part of my apology, I want …” Wooyeon's voice trails off as they walk out of earshot.  But you remain in place, watching their retreating forms until they leave your field of view.  And then perhaps a minute longer, just in case.

But eventually, you also turn away and begin your departure.  The only topic on your mind as you walk, ride the bus, and then walk again on your journey to reach your home is the storm of emotions within.  On the one hand, it gave you the confidence to act in a way you wouldn't have been willing to normally, leading to an amazing and memorable moment.  But on the other hand, you can't shake the feeling that this upswell wasn't the final manifestation of these detrimental feelings.  All you can do is hope that if they do flare again, that night won’t be memorable for all the wrong reasons.

tick…

tock…

As you walk alongside Nayeon, you can’t help but marvel at how normal this new norm feels.  Even just a few weeks ago, you would have desperately lunged at the chance to see Nayeon a single time, but now, seeing her multiple times a week feels routine.  Normal.  Unremarkable?

Definitely not unremarkable, as the memory of your arms wrapped around her waist and her lips pressed against your own is just as vivid as it felt in that moment a few nights ago.  Even the restlessness of flaking on the group’s performance for the first time last night feels insignificant in comparison to the contentment you feel right now.

Which is why it’s so jarring when you’re met by a “CLOSED” sign on the shop’s door for the first time ever.

“‘Apologies for the sudden closure’,” you read aloud.  “‘We’re visiting family this weekend and will be closed for the next couple of days.’”

“‘We’ll be open once again on Monday.  We hope to see you then!’” Nana concludes.  “I mean, I hope she has a nice time, but what do we do now?”

“I mean, I’m sure we can find somewhere else that sounds good.  There are a couple places nearby that I usually order delivery from,” you offer.

“Wait, isn’t your place nearby?” she asks, earning a nod in response.  “Why don’t we just pick something up on the way and eat there?  We could watch a movie too, it’ll be fun!”

“Wait wait wait,” you say, mind reeling at the implications.  “Did you just invite yourself into my apartment?”

“Yep!” Nayeon announces, shame nowhere to be found within that radiant smile.  “Now figure out which chicken place you want to order from and let’s go!”

All you can do is laugh at the absurdity of the situation as you pull out your phone and do as she asks.  After a few minutes of walking and a quick stop to pick up food, you arrive at your apartment.  Your one-bedroom apartment might pale in comparison to some of the more upscale living areas in Seoul, but you genuinely appreciate the place you call your home, and you show it to Nayeon with pride.  After a brief tour, you both unpack the large assortment of dishes that usually accompany any Korean meal and begin your dinner.

“How was your performance last night?” you ask her, forcing yourself to smile even as the initial hints of your jealousy begin to stir.

“It went well, thank you!” Nayeon responds, smiling softly at you.  “The fan turnout was amazing, so it was super easy to enjoy performing for them.  What about you, how was your night?”

“Pretty good, thank you for asking,” you say, attempting to match the warmth of her smile but unable to due to the ice in your heart.  “It was a pretty unremarkable evening in general, but I did appreciate the chance to catch up on some much-needed sleep.”

“That’s good to hear!  I missed having you there, but I’m glad you were able to rest.”

“Thank you.  I’m sorry for not being there to support you, but at least Wooyeon got to enjoy a night where she didn’t have to hunt us down.”

“She actually told me that she was sad you weren’t there!  She said on the ride over that she was sure last night was going to be your guys’ first ‘normal’ conversation.”

“Really?  That’s unfortunate, hopefully it’ll happen next time I see her.”

“Hopefully!” Nayeon agrees, and you both go back to enjoying your dinner.  

A few minutes later, once you’ve both finished and cleared away the table, you pull out your favorite oversized blanket and lounge on the couch, inviting Nayeon to join you.  She’s more than happy to oblige, taking the remote from you and immediately pulling up some recently released horror sequel.  You can’t help but voice your surprise, but your concerns are swiftly and eagerly shut down as she gets up and begins messing with the light switches, trying different combinations in an attempt to properly set the mood.  Once she finally achieves her desired lighting, she hops back onto the couch, pulling the blanket over herself and laying against your side.

As she snuggles in closer, you do your best to relax and simply enjoy the experience.  And, if nothing else, the experience is certainly entertaining, as Nayeon seems to be terrified of the jump scares that seem to occur every couple of minutes.  Yet despite her screams, she refuses every time you ask if she wants to watch something else, insisting that she’s having a great time.  Well, for the first hour at least.

“Can I ask you something?” Nayeon says suddenly as she pauses the movie.

“Of course,” you say, your mind flooding with concerns and thoughts of worst-case outcomes.

“Is everything alright?” she asks, sitting up and turning to face you.

“Like, right now?  Couldn’t be better,” you respond, fighting through your concern as you offer a strained smile.

“Mostly just in general, but you don’t seem relaxed even now, despite the fact that we’re under this stupidly soft blanket on this insanely comfy couch,” Nayeon says, smiling for a moment before her expression shifts back to seriousness.  “But honestly, you’ve seemed kinda off for a while.  It's not all the time, but often enough for me to be concerned.  Is there something you want to talk about?”

“No, it’s okay, I—” You stop yourself, searching through the dark and finding nothing but obvious care and trust in her eyes.  So, knowing you can do better, you start over.

“I’m not going to lie to you.  I promise I won’t.  So, yeah, there’s something that’s bothering me, but it’s … hard to explain.  I don’t want to hide anything from you—and I promise I will tell you, but I don’t know the words to tell you what I want to say right now.  Can I ask you to be patient with me, just for a little bit?”

“Okay,” she says, visible concern on her face as she nods.  “Whenever you’re ready.”

“Thank you, I really appreciate it,” you say, awkwardly turning back to the TV.

You’re unable to focus on the rest of the movie, deafened by the silence between you two and shivering from a coldness unrelated to the setting sun.  Even once it’s over and Nayeon gets ready to leave, neither of you are able to put on a convincing enough performance to hide your emotions.  You exchange awkward goodbyes, waving farewell instead of hugging like you’ve always done as she walks away.

Thus, it’s anything but surprising when, mere hours later, the girl of your dreams becomes the subject of your nightmares.  Spectral visions of her pained expression haunt you as the thoughts of causing her stress, pain, and suffering bind and isolate you.  You swear you can hear the haunted cackling of the manifestations of anxiety and jealousy in your mind as they cast a spotlight on your inability to quell the storm.  And as the nightmare begins to fade and you feel yourself being dragged away from her, you finally get it.

As soon as you awaken, unsurprisingly covered in sweat, you immediately grab your phone and begin composing a series of messages.  Because you refuse to let your selfishness hurt someone else, especially Nayeon.

You (5:01am): Hey, I’m so, so sorry about last night, especially how it ended

You (5:01am):  There’s somewhere I’d love to show you, it’s a private place where we should be able to spend some time together and talk

You (5:01am):  If you have an afternoon free sometime soon, please let me know

You (5:02am):  Thanks so much

Between the restless night and the anxiety of hoping for a response, the miserable day you end up having is anything but a surprise.  You check your phone at every available opportunity, but the response you're hoping for never arrives.

It isn't until after you return home, when you're sitting alone in the stale air of your frigid, empty apartment that Nayeon answers.

Nayeon🐇 (5:01pm): Hey, I'm so sorry for taking so long to respond, there were a lot of things I ended up needing to take care of today

Nayeon🐇 (5:01pm): Does tomorrow work?  I'm sorry if it's sooner than you were expecting …

You (5:02pm): No, that would actually be perfect!  Thank you so much, I'll send you the address

You press send, feeling a great weight lifted off your shoulders as you confirm the location and time with her.  Unfortunately, just as you feel yourself begin to relax, your mind begins compiling a list of the things you’ll need for tomorrow.

So, once again, you bundle up and step outside to face the harsh winds.  But this time, as the grocery store comes into view, you're eager to brave the storm.  Because you know what's waiting for you on the other side.

tick…

tock…

Noon.  The brightest point of the day.  A time of warmth.  An important part of any day for a multitude of reasons.  Specifically, the most important part of today because it's when you plan to meet Nayeon.

You scramble onto the bus just in time, sighing in relief as you check the clock and see that you’re scheduled to arrive a bit early, just as you’d hoped.  So, with a bit of free time during the thirty-eight-minute journey awaiting you, you first check all your belongings, happily confirming that nothing's been lost in transit.  You look out the window, frowning slightly at the clouds slowly rolling across the sky, blocking out the clear sky you'd hoped would be the backdrop to this crucial day.  You cast that aside, choosing instead to focus on what you can control.  Like what exactly you want to say to her.  How you want to convey your feelings to her.

Is this a confession?  A request?  An invitation?  A farewell?  No, you know it's definitely not a farewell.  But you still don't know what exactly you want to tell her.

Actually, that's not entirely true either, because when you’re with her, you can't help but want to talk to her about anything and everything.  But just for today, you hope that you can be greedy.  You hope that you'll somehow find the exact words you need to convey how you feel.  The exact words she needs to hear.  The exact words that'll help you solve this problem.  The exact words she wants to hear.  The exact words that'll steal her heart.

A familiar little robotic voice echoes throughout the bus, informing you that you’ve arrived.  You gather up your blanket, basket, and jacket, then exit the bus and turn to walk towards your destination.

As you slip your sunglasses on, you look around, smiling slightly at the memories resurfacing at the sight of so many familiar shops from your past.  You see the pet store where you cried because your mom wouldn't buy you a chinchilla for your fifth birthday.  You see the small ice cream shop where you celebrated your first soccer tournament victory with your friends.  You see the hair salon where the stylist always teased you for growing out your hair over your ears as a teenager.

And when you turn the corner, you see the bridge where you had your first kiss.  There, standing alone, a familiar flash of gold hides beneath a cap and scarf, and the sight of her finally makes you see the truth.  Waiting for you atop that bridge, you see your first love.

“Of course.”

Your knuckles whiten as they tightly grip the wooden handle of the basket.  You feel your legs attempt to lock up, but you force yourself to break free of anxiety's cold grip and begin to close the distance.  You barely make it onto the small bridge before she perks up at the sound of your footsteps and turns to face you.

“Hey, I'm so sorry for making you wait, I tried to be here as soon as—”

“No, no, don’t worry about it,” Nayeon says, lips upturned in a hint of a smile.  “I’m used to being the first one to arrive and I only got here a couple minutes ago.”

You both pause for a moment, an uncharacteristically awkward silence filling the air between you two as you both search for the right thing to say.

“Thanks for inviting me here,” Nayeon says after a few moments.  “I've never been to this neighborhood before.”

“No, thank you for being willing to come, especially so soon!” you quickly respond.  “I’m sorry for being vague about it earlier, but this is actually where I grew up.”

“Oh really?” Nayeon asks, looking around with a renewed interest.  “I'm sure you have so many stories to tell about this place!”

“Something like that,” you say meekly, looking down at the sidewalk.  Where you remember standing as you kissed your first crush so many years ago.  Where you remember standing as your tears hit the pavement when that same girl said goodbye for the last time.  Where you stand now, hoping that you can convince the best thing that's ever happened to you to stay.

“Well then, where are we going?” Nayeon asks.  “Don't tell me you're going to ask me to cheat on Aunt Kim by going to another noodle shop!”

“Of course not!” you exclaim, feeling your vigor return as you laugh with her.

“That's probably for the best.  I don't suppose it's that ice cream store either?” Nayeon asks excitedly.

“Maybe after,” you say, chuckling at her dramatic pout.

“I did come with a plan for lunch,” you continue, holding up the basket and showing it to her.

“Oh, that's amazing!” Nayeon exclaims, finally closing the distance between you two and hugging you tightly.  “You're the cutest!”

You're initially baffled by Nayeon, who's so much shorter than you, calling you cute, but you're more than willing to bite back your response and simply hold her close.  After a minute or so, you force yourself to pull away.

“Alright, so where are we going?” Nayeon asks as her eyes eagerly explore the area.

“It's about a fifteen-minute walk from here, maybe twenty if you want me to act as a tour guide.”

“I'm in no rush when I'm with you,” Nayeon immediately responds.  “Tell me everything.”

After taking a second to make sure your heart hasn’t overloaded, you extend your hand to her.  “Alright, but only because it's you.  Follow me.”

Nayeon happily obliges, and with her hand in yours, you begin the journey upstream through the sands of time.  You spend the first few minutes of the walk pointing out the local stores and restaurants that you fondly remember, initially avoiding any mention of places associated with less flattering memories.  But as you continue on and grow more comfortable, you begin to share all of the most memorable pieces of your past, much to the delight of Nayeon, who's happy to laugh with and at you as you tell her about the defining moments of your childhood.

After roughly ten minutes, you come to a stop, staring up at one tall, gray building in particular amongst the half-dozen duplicates in the area.

“What about this place?” Nayeon asks, noticing your hesitation.

“This is … the place I grew up,” you explain.  “My parents and I lived in this apartment building until I graduated high school and went off to college.”

“Oh, so this was your home?”

“You could say that, but I don't think of it that way.  This is the place where I lived, but it isn't the place where I made the most memories.”

“Hmm, I think I understand.  Did you have a place you'd call your home instead?”

“I did,” you confirm, gripping her hand tighter.  “We're going there now.”

You continue on, allowing the air to grow quiet as you walk under the canopy of trees hanging over the path between two streets.  After a few minutes of this comfortable contemplation, you speak up.

“I know this is gonna sound weird but hear me out.”

“That's certainly one way to start a conversation,” Nayeon jokes, squeezing your hand slightly.  “But sure, I'm listening.”

“I really appreciate how easy it is to just … enjoy being with you,” you explain.  “How you make me feel comfortable even when we're being quiet, because just being together is enough.”

“Uh huh.  And you wanted to convey this to me by breaking the silence to do so?”

“Listen, I … yeah, I guess so.  I just wanted to let you know how you make me feel.  I'm far from the best with words, as I'm sure you've noticed.”

“I might have,” she jokes, pulling herself closer against your side.  “But I don't think you give yourself enough credit.”

“Oh?  Why do you say that?”

“Because I already knew you felt that way,” Nayeon says, looking up at you with bright eyes and a brighter smile.  “And because I feel the same way too.”

You share a few more minutes of soft silence as you walk along the road, traveling under the canopy until it parts and you see the clouds above.  A couple of streets and turns later, you arrive at your destination.

“This is the park where I used to play soccer,” you explain.  “To your right is where I scored a goal to win a tournament match, and if you look wayyy in the back left, you can see where I made an opponent so angry, he shoved me to the ground and nearly broke my wrist.”

“Oh wow!” Nayeon exclaims, covering her mouth as a snippet of laughter threatens to escape.  “You must have a lot of fond memories of this place.”

“Yeah …” you say, trailing off as you cast your mind back to those times ten, fifteen years ago.  “I made a lot of friends—and enemies—on these fields.”

“Do you still keep in touch with many of them?  Your friends, not your enemies,” she clarifies.

“No, almost none of either group actually,” you admit.  “It gets hard when people move away and college or work takes over your life.  I make sure to stay in contact with one, my best friend from those times, but even that’s a bit of a struggle.  I haven’t seen him in who knows how many years, just talked with him online.”

“I—wow…” Nayeon says, eyes sweeping the empty grass that you’ll always remember as full of life.  “I can’t even imagine being separated from Wooyeon.”

“Well, it’s probably different when you see each other, what, 350 days out of the year?” you point out.

“That’s fair,” she admits, finally releasing that pent-up chuckle.  “Thank you for showing me this, I’m sure it means a lot to you.”

“Of course,” you say, offering her a smile.  “Now I want to show you the place that became my home.”

“Then let’s go!” Nayeon announces, returning your smile and allowing you to lead her across the expanse that seemed endless when you were younger.

Eventually, you reach a small chain link fence, which you follow until you’re met with the familiar sight of a rusted gate with a faded combination lock.

“Let’s hope they haven’t changed this,” you say, mostly to yourself, as you input the code: 090301.

To your great joy—and mild surprise—it unlatches, allowing you to open the gate and lead Nayeon inside.  Within, you easily navigate through the branches and brush, memories coming back in a rush as you delve deeper and deeper.  After about a minute, you arrive, pulling back a branch and allowing Nayeon to pass by you into the small clearing.  Surrounded on all sides by trees, a pair of smooth, plateau-like rocks sit a couple meters from a softly flowing creek, granting you both the solitude that this private sanctum had always blessed you with.

“This is it,” you explain, nearly whispering the words as Nayeon takes in the scene.  “This was … everything, really.  This is where I came when I needed to think, needed to decompress, or … needed to know what I needed, I guess.”

“This is incredible!” Nayeon says, eyes wide as she frenetically scours every centimeter of the area, committing it to memory.  “How did you even find this place?”

“Everyone I’ve ever brought here has asked me that exact question,” you say, a sentimental smile spreading across your face.  “But I’ll tell you the same thing I told the other two; I feel like it honestly found me.  I just … went out looking for a sign of something on a night where I needed direction and found myself here.”

“This is actually the first time I’ve come here since moving away for college,” you continue.  “It’s crazy how as much as things change, they stay the same.”

“I guess so …” Nayeon says, trailing off before turning and meeting your eyes.  “Thank you for bringing me here.  I can tell this place holds a special place in your heart and I deeply appreciate you sharing it with me.”

“Of course,” you say after a moment, struggling to formulate words under the intensity of her gaze.  “You hold a special place in my heart too, so I appreciate you trusting me and coming here with me.”

Nayeon is content to let her smile be her response, so you lay out the blanket across the smooth rocks and take a seat on one, gesturing towards the other.  “Come on, let’s talk.”

“Talk?” she asks, implication obvious in her voice as her eyes harden.

“Talk,” you confirm with a nod.

“Okay,” Nayeon whispers, barely loud enough for you to hear above your pounding heartbeat as she takes a seat beside you.  She shakes her hands like they’ve gone numb, then continues, “Please, tell me what’s going on.  Everything that’s going on.”

“Nayeon, I want to make sure you know something, something very important,” you tell her, earning a nod in response.  “I care about you.  So much.  Maybe too much.  I know I haven’t been returning the warmth that you’ve shared with me, and for that, I am so sorry.”

You pause, release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, and deeply inhale before continuing, “It’s just—sometimes when I’m with you, negative emotions start building up inside me that feel like a storm threatening to pull me under.  Sometimes, I can’t help but feel jealous when I see you on stage or when you talk about your fans, because it feels like there’s so many of them and I’m just … me.  I feel like they’ve known you longer, seen more of you, and that you can’t help but prioritize them because your job depends on it.  I know I shouldn’t feel this way, and I know that it’s selfish.”

You force yourself to stop and look at her.  She sits patiently, listening attentively as she nods once again, waiting for you to continue.  So, you do.  “I want you to know, more than anything else, that none of this is your fault.  And I am so, so sorry for putting you in this position.  But after you asked me if everything was alright, I knew that I couldn’t hide it from you any longer.  I knew that if I kept this inside, it would boil over and end up hurting you in the process.  And I can’t allow that to happen—I can’t let you get hurt because of how I feel—but I can’t walk away without telling you the truth.  And I know I have no right to do this to you and I understand if you’re upset and if you want me to leave I—”

“Hey, hey, listen to me,” Nayeon says softly, cupping your face in her ever so delicate hands.  “Thank you, so much, for telling me this.  I don’t and won’t ever blame you for feeling those kinds of feelings. I wish I could tell you that I understand and that everything will be alright, but I can't.  Honestly, I probably won’t ever truly be able to.”

“But I need you to trust me when I tell you that you mean everything to me,” she continues.  “And I need you to trust me when I tell you I’m willing to face this problem as long as it’s by your side.  And when I say that we can get through this, together, I mean it with every fiber of my being and all of my heart.  All I can ask is that you put your faith in me, in yourself, and most importantly, in us.  Can you do that for me?”

“Just like that?” you ask, dumbfounded.  “I’m being completely unfair, presenting you with this problem, and you’re somehow still willing to give me more support?”

“For you?  Absolutely,” she responds resolutely.  “I don’t know if I’d ever be able to piece my heart back together if you broke it by leaving.”

“Then yes, I—Yes,” you declare, placing your hands on hers and holding them tightly.  “Absolutely, I can.  I will.  I promise.”

She beams with joy, immediately responding, “Anything for me, right?”

You gently pull her hands away from your face, interweaving your fingers with hers as you tell her, “Of course Nana, it’s always been you.  You’ve been the only thing that matters to me since the moment I saw you.  It’s always been you and always will be.”

You watch as her eyes go wide.  “You’ve never called me that before.”

“I guess so …” you say, trailing off as the realization hits you too.  “I’m sorry if you’d—“

You stop yourself as Nana untangles her fingers from yours in an instant, wrapping her arms around you and squeezing you so tightly that it’s nearly impossible to continue.

“Please say something,” you manage to get out, chuckling awkwardly.  “I kinda just poured my heart and soul out to you and I’d really appreciate you sharing your thoughts.”

“My arms are getting tired from how tightly I’m hugging you and you still need me to tell you what I’m thinking?” Nana scoffs, nuzzling into your chest and refusing to let go.

“Fair point,” you admit, contentedly wrapping your arms around her, though nowhere near as tightly as she’s hugging you.  “Thank you, Nana.”

“For what?  The hug?” she asks, somehow squeezing you even tighter.

“I mean, yes, the hug is amazing, but that isn’t what I meant,” you choke out.  “For being so good to me.  From that first day we met all the way until today, I feel like I’ve been the one with the problem and you’ve been the one with the solution.”

“Maybe, but that won’t always be the case,” Nana responds, loosening her hold on you just enough to allow you to breathe again.  “And if a storm comes and attempts to drag me under, I like to believe you’ll be there, holding on for dear life and refusing to let go.”

You don’t even try to respond verbally, instead releasing your hold on her and using your newly free hand to cup her chin.  As your thumb slowly traces patterns across the soft skin of her cheek, the rest of your body closes what little distance remains between you, allowing you to brush the faintest of kisses onto her lips.  You kiss her gently, tenderly, barely making any contact as your lips land on hers and then depart before she can kiss you back.  You repeat these featherlight flits over and over again, attempting to convey all the feelings you’ve left unsaid.  And finally, when she tightens her hold on you and mewls in frustration, you fervently capture her lips and refuse to be the one who pulls away.

Your conviction ends up just barely lasting long enough for Nana to pull away first, but the light-headedness and dizziness that blocks your view of the only thing you want to be seeing right now is a powerful reminder that oxygen is, in fact, important.  For a short while, the sound of both of you panting is the only sensation that keeps you tethered to consciousness.  But eventually, when you manage to part the darkness and open your eyes, you’re met with the sight of Nana, her chest expanding and contracting just as rapidly as yours as you both amend your oxygen deficits.  And if her smudged lipstick, flushed face, and wild, wide eyes staring into yours are any indication, you’re fairly confident she’s satisfied with your response.

“So … lunch?”

“Just like that?” she asks, dumbfounded.  “You literally take my breath away and that’s all you have to say?”

“Oh, I did have something else!” you remark, acting far more nonchalantly than you feel.  “I love you, Nana.”

It can’t be instantaneous.  But you don’t quite know how it happens either.  Your heart skips a beat when you see a blur of motion in your periphery, then you blink and you’re on the ground with Nana holding you down.  Somewhere around the second or third second of Nana kissing you, it finally connects in your mind.  She actually just tackled you off the rock.

“I—love—you—too,” Nana tells you, whispering each word into your ear in the moments between her own featherlight kisses.  Your heart soars at her reciprocation of your feelings, and as soon as she decides the time for words is over, you’re more than happy to oblige.  She melts into you as you wrap your arms around her back and return her kiss, matching her fervor and maybe even exceeding it.  You both know to pull away much sooner than you did last time, respecting the harsh lesson your bodies had given you.

“You know, a little warning would be nice,” you tease, smiling up at her.

“You’re one to talk!” Nana exclaims, hitting your chest with one small hand as she fans her crimson visage with the other.  “Don’t you know that it’s downright irresponsible to just drop something on me like that?”

“To be fair, I was under the impression that we both expected you to be the responsible one here,” you say, bringing out your puppy eyes and painting faux innocence across every centimeter of your face.

“I … you … ugh!” she grumbles, a rainbow of emotions flashing across her face before she finally leans away from you.  “Yes dear, lunch sounds wonderful.”

It’s right then when you realize another thing that makes Nana special.  She makes your cheeks hurt with how much you smile around her.  And even minutes later, after you’ve both gotten up, unpacked the basket, and you’ve both begun to eat the home cooked meals out of the little plastic containers they’re stored in, the smile she so easily coaxes out of you hasn’t left your face.

“I didn’t get to say it earlier after you blindsided me, but thank you too,” Nana says midway through your meal.

“Blindsided is a bit rich coming from you, the only person here who literally tackled the other, but I digress,” you respond, smiling warmly at her amused smirk.  “What for?”

“For being my friend,” she says, turning away from you and staring into the woods.  “It’s … hard to make friends as an idol.  There are so many expectations for how we’re meant to behave and we’re often too busy to really spend time with others.  I really appreciate your willingness to be flexible and even come to our performances, especially now that I know how it was affecting you …”

“Of course, I’m always happy to be flexible, it’s for you,” you tell her, taking her hand in yours.  “Even if you’re only able to spare a few minutes after each performance, I’m sure we could make it work.”

“But it doesn’t have to only be then, that’s not fair to either of us,” she says, squeezing your hand back.  “Days like this are worth clearing my schedule for.”

“Wait, you cleared your schedule for today?  To see me?  Yesterday?  Before you even knew if I was available?” you ask, receiving a quartet of nods in response.

“That’s why I took so long to respond yesterday, I was running around taking care of all my responsibilities in the dorm and doing the choreography practice I’d planned to do today,” Nana explains.  “I trusted that you’d make it work.  When I saw your text that early in the morning, I figured that you hadn’t been able to sleep either.”

“Wow … I … didn’t even realize … thank you for doing so much for me,” you say, idly tracing circles against the back of her hand.  “But truly, I am always happy to see you, regardless of time or circumstance.  I’m really looking forward to seeing you perform in the future; it’ll be nice to be able to really enjoy you doing what you love without jealousy blinding me.”

“That’s great to hear!” she responds, turning back and smiling at you.  “You taking the time to come see us means so much to me … the first thing I do whenever I get on stage is find you in the crowd.”

“Oh, I—oh.  Thank you,” you say, grateful that you manage to reply before those words join the rest in vacating your mind.

“Of course!” Nana responds, smiling warmly at you before you both return to your lunch.  After you both finish your meals, you look up to the sky, grimacing as you see the consolidation of the clouds as they blot out the sun.

“Hey, Nana,” you say, pointing up to the sky as she turns to you.  “We should definitely get going before we end up stuck in the rain.”

“Okay,” she says, nodding resolutely.  “Let’s get packed up and go.”

You both work together in harmony, loading the containers back into the basket in a fraction of the time it took to unload them.  You take her hand once more, hastily leading her along the trails and roads you've traversed alone countless times.

“We might have to skip the ice cream today,” you tell Nana as you both quickly walk down the streets that house so many memories.

“Oh no!  I guess you'll just have to make it up to me later …” Nana responds, smiling in understanding.

A minute or so later, just as the first few drops of rain begin to fall like your tears that night on the bridge, you arrive at the bus stop.

“This is where I need to get on the bus,” you say to Nana.  “Where are you going, can I call you a taxi?  Were you intending on someone picking you up?  What's the plan?”

Nana smiles in a very particular way, the same way she always seems to smile whenever she realizes that she knows something you don't.  “I'm going wherever you're going.  That's been my plan for a long, long time now.”

You're grateful for the rain, as the sounds of its fall are the only sounds to be found in the seconds that pass before you're able to respond.  You wrap your jacket around her shoulders, sheltering her from the cold as you stare directly into her eyes and tell her, “I … I don't know what I did to deserve the trust you put in me, but I'm incredibly grateful for it.  I promise you that I will never take it for granted.  I promise you, with every fiber of my being and all of my heart, that I will never break that trust.”

“I know,” Nana responds, her whispered words bouncing between the raindrops before barely reaching your ears.  “You showed me your heart today, the least I can do is give you mine.”

You pull Nana close and gently rest your forehead against hers.  Each falling raindrop and each flowing teardrop helps you paint the picture, telling her the thousands of words you can’t verbalize but need her to know.  In this shared moment, as echoes of your past remind you of those sorrowful tears shed so many years ago, your joyful ones return you to the present and the gift in your arms.  So, at least in this moment, you hold Nana tight, vowing to never let her go.

You pull away only when the bus arrives a few minutes later but remain hand in hand as you walk forward.  After stepping on, paying for both of your fares, and finding a pair of seats, you pull out a pair of earbuds and offer Nana one.  She's more than happy to accept, and as she rests her head on your shoulder and you queue up a series of serene love songs from your favorite artists, you hope their words can do a better job of telling Nana how much you love her.

tick…

tock…

“We're here,” you whisper to Nana, gently shaking her awake.  “Just take my hand, I'll lead you home.”

“Okay,” she murmurs, interweaving her fingers with yours and following you through the bus, down the steps, and into the monsoon that immediately jolts her back into consciousness.

“Oookaaayyyy, I'm up!” Nana declares, pulling your jacket tight against her small frame.  “Lead the way, I don't think these pants are gonna do much against a storm like this!”

You take off immediately, leading her as quickly as you can down the sidewalks before eventually stopping at an interaction where you ask her, “But really, why does it always seem like your outfits are in no way at all suited to the weather?”

“Because my outfit looks cute!” Nana exclaims indignantly.  “And you of all people should be glad that’s my priority!”

“Of course, you're right,” you respond, kissing her on the nose in apology.  “Then again, I'm convinced you'd make anything look good, but I do genuinely appreciate that you care and that you put thought into your outfits.  It makes me feel special.”

The crosswalk finally flashes green, and you take off once again, leading Nana towards your apartment as she scolds you.  “Seriously, you can't just keep saying things like that so casually!  There are at least four heartwarming things in that statement that make me want to kiss you, but your question was so stupid that I still kinda want to slap you!  And this stupid rain isn’t helping anything at all!  And I’m cold!  Ugh!”

You're grateful that you're ahead of Nana, because you know that if she sees the goofy smile on your face, you'll be in big trouble.  “Okay dear, I'm sorry I made you feel that way,”  you respond, speaking in the most soothing tone possible.  “We’re almost to my apartment, where it’ll be n-nice and warm, and w-we’ll make everything better.  I p-promise.”

Neither of you speak another word for the remainder of your mad dash, too busy fighting off the shivers to do so.  After a few more minutes, you arrive back at your home, where you tear the key from your pocket, hurriedly unlock the door, and shepherd her inside.

“O-Okay, I’m g-going to start the sh-shower f-for you and g-grab a dry set of clothes for y-you to change into, please f-feel free to d-discard that j-jacket l-literally anywhere,” you manage to tell Nana, taking off as she begins to do as you request.

You fight off the shivers as you quickly dash around your apartment, flipping the shower on and grabbing yourself a towel before darting into your bedroom and grabbing some dry clothes for both of you, then returning to Nana.

“Okay, t-the shower should b-b-be nice and h-hot, and there’s a c-clean towel in t-t-there y-you can u-use,” you stammer as you round the corner.  “H-Here’s something t-to … change … into …”

Your voice escapes you as you see her, back turned as she watches the rain mercilessly paint the cobblestone.  You first see the soaked cotton of her top and how it shakes as her small figure shivers in the cold.  But that isn’t what catches your eye and leaves you dizzy.  It’s the way her pants have tightened, showcasing the sculpted definition of her thighs and how they flow upwards to display the perfectly round curve of her ass.

As she turns, you force yourself to pull your gaze upwards, feeling your face flush as your pulse continues to quicken.  You drag your eyes up her body, past her toned stomach that hides beneath the sopping garments, past her pert breasts and stiff nipples that strain against the soaked fabric, past her shaking shoulders and kissable neck and diamond jawline and roseate lips and adorable nose until finally you meet those chocolate eyes that stare back at you.

“T-Thank you s-s-soooo m-much,” Nana responds, fighting off her own shivers as she takes the clothes from you, then darts off towards the warmth awaiting her, leaving you frozen in more ways than one.

You do your best to ignore how difficult it is to remove your soaked pants, especially as they cling to your skin and especially because of your hardening erection that’s impossible to miss.  After removing all of your drenched attire and placing the dripping bundle alongside the jacket you loaned Nana, you attempt to dry yourself off, saturating the towel with frigid water far quicker than you’d hoped you would.  Once you’re sure that you’ve gotten your money’s worth, you add the towel to the pile in the sink, then put on the pajamas you’d grabbed and turn up the thermostat to its highest setting.

Once you're confident that you’ve done all you can, you collapse, couch creaking in protest at the impact.  In this moment to breathe, the events of the day begin to hit you, flashing across your mind in sync with the droplets of rain against your window.  You think of all the places that defined your childhood.  You think of faces long forgotten.  You think of faces you’ll never forget.  You think of echoes.  You think of her atop that bridge.  You think of her atop that bridge.  You think of all the words that escaped your lips.  You think of Nana’s small hands lifting the weight of the world off your shoulders.  You think of her body on top of yours as she pinned you down with kisses.  You think of her body.  You think of the cold.  You think of heat.  You think of your soaked clothes clinging to your skin.  You think of Nana’s soaked clothes clinging to her skin.  You think of Nana, dripping wet.  You think of Nana, dripping wet.

As you stare out the window, your mind vaguely registers the sound of a hair dryer.  But soon even that sense joins the others, consumed with the thoughts of Nana.  One storm for another.  You’re not even sure if the words escape your lips.

The door opens, and you get up to face Nana.  She’s radiant, each strand of gold and each centimeter of porcelain glowing in the dim light of your apartment.  She’s wearing glasses.  She’s wearing your favorite shirt.  She’s wearing nothing else.

“Hey,” she whispers, somehow slotting seventy emotions into that single syllable as it floats over to you.

You've always viewed Nana as pretty.  She's always been cute.  She'll never not be beautiful.  But as you fight off the arctic chill that permeates your bones, you realize you've never looked at her this way.  You can't help but notice how hot she is.  You see Nana as sexy for the first time.

“Hey,” she calls again, tilting her head and leaning to the side.  It’s unfair, the way she sinks against the doorframe.  It’s immoral, the way she makes herself look even smaller as she hides in the folds of your shirt.  It’s incomprehensible, the way the wide rims of her glasses make her pleading eyes look even bigger.  It’s criminal, the way she hides her intent behind that innocent smile.

“Are you just gonna sit there with your jaw on the floor for the rest of the night, or are you going to say something?”

“N-Nana, if you could s-see what I see, y-you’d be speechless t-too,” you manage to get out, unable to suppress the shivers as you respond.

“Well, you could walk into the bathroom that I might have sorta turned into a sauna,” Nana offers, the smallest of smiles beginning to show.

“Or …” she continues, taking her time as she closes the distance between you two.  “I could warm you up …”

Your arms wrap around her instinctually as she presses her body against you.  You can feel the sculpted frame hidden beneath the oversized shirt.  You can feel the tension.  You can feel the heat.  And as your eyes drift down to her lips, you can feel your reservations flying out the window to join the falling rain.

You kiss her.  Gently.  Delicately.  And she shoves you backwards onto the couch.

“Absolutely not,” Nana declares, climbing into your lap.  She wraps her arms around your neck, licking her lips hungrily before pulling you close.  Within a second of her claiming your lips with her own and beginning to grind against your lower half, any questions you might have had join your reservations on the pavement outside.  You match her intensity, running your tongue along her lips patiently, then expectantly, and claim her mouth as soon as she lets you in.  Your hands roam, dragging your fingers like ice cubes across her hips and down her thighs as she hisses into your mouth.

You work your way up her body, past her waistline and under your her shirt.  You travel further, past the lean abs she’s worked so hard to sculpt, across the ridges and valleys of her expanding and contracting rib cage, all the way until the tips of your fingers brush the sensitive underside of her breasts.  The whimper that escapes her mouth into yours is immediate.  It’s needy.  It’s pathetic.  It’s the hottest sound you’ve ever heard.

The soft, malleable skin becomes a pair of perfect handfuls as you explore the fringes of Nana’s breasts, sending sparks through her synapses and shockwaves down her spine.  You break away from her kiss, just for a moment, just long enough to watch her collapse onto you as you finally knead her swollen nipples between your fingers.  You take the opportunity to access the curve of her neck, mentally noting where earns the loudest moans as you suck, kiss, and nip the sensitive skin.

“Look at you, so desperate,” you whisper into her ear, grinding your hips against hers and forcing her to moan.  “I’ve barely even touched you, but somehow you’re even more drenched than earlier.”

“And you know what’s the worst part?” you murmur, stretching a single second across the tension before continuing.  “That’s nothing compared to what you’re doing to me.  I’ve never been so hard in my fucking life.”

“You—you’re—OH!!!”

You know what you’re doing when you latch onto that particular spot on the base of her neck; that her response is going to be lost, lost in the sound of her moan echoing against your walls.  But you also know what she wanted to verbalize, what her body has been telling you as it tenses up even further.  So, when you feel her shaking, on the precipice, you’re more than willing to lend a hand.  You’re happy to detach from her breast, brushing against her sensitive folds with the back of your hand.  And so, when you’re kind enough to simply graze her clit with an icy fingernail, you also make sure to hold her as she comes undone.

The first orgasm you give Nana is a cinematic experience, with a soundtrack of the most ungodly of moans alongside her quivering limbs and the deathly grip on your shoulders as if you’re the only thing keeping her afloat.  You gently trace circles along her back, whispering sweet nothings into her ear and holding her as she rides out the high.  You wait, long after the quivering has ceased and she’s unclenched her hands, long enough for her to meet your eyes and show you that the fog has lifted.

“Hey,” you murmur, goofy grin growing wider as you see her eyes flash with outrage.

“You can’t keep doing this!” Nana exclaims, huffing in frustration when all you have to offer is your gleaming smile.  “You can’t just blow my mind and change my life and end it with a ‘Hey’!”

“Who said that was the end?” you ask, humor discarded as your tone drops.  “You did what you said you would, now we’re both hot and bothered.”  You look into her eyes, see the recognition and excitement.  Then, you see the desire reignite as you thrust upwards, teasing her sex with only a bit of friction.  “What are you going to do about it?”

Nana meets the challenge with equal passion, whispering into your ear, “I’m going to show you a side of me that no one has ever seen before.”

Having adequately spiked your blood pressure, Nana climbs off you, moving with idol-like grace as she sashays towards your bedroom door.  Having reached the end of the runway, she turns, throwing off her shirt and modeling her pristine form for you.  She’s divine.  You somehow tear your eyes away from her flawless figure, staring instead into her molten eyes.  She captures her bottom lip between her teeth, slowly dragging them across the soft, pink skin before twisting her innocuous expression into one of sinister glee.  She’s sin incarnate.

Then, she’s gone, retreated back into your bedroom.  You’re off the couch in a blur, flinging off your shirt and pajama bottoms, discarding the soaked pieces of clothing as they join the rest.  You round the corner, entering your bedroom, and you have to pinch yourself to make sure you aren’t dreaming.

You’ve seen Nana dozens of times at this point, seen her in outfits ranging from luxury goods to school uniforms to casual attire to athletic wear.  You’ve seen her when doted on by professional stylists, just after a dance practice, and everywhere in-between.  But when you see her here, in your bed, wearing nothing but a smile and absolutely glistening in anticipation, you swear your heart stops.

You climb onto the bed; you climb on top of her.  You kiss her.  Not lightly, not lustfully, but lovingly.  And when she kisses you back, you feel that exact same longing.  Despite the sincerity in the kiss, you don’t feel the heat in the room diminish at all.  No, you just realize it’s everburning.

You pull away.  Barely.  Just enough room for words.  Just far enough to see her eyes.

“No interruptions this time, it's just you and me,” you murmur, causing her to shudder in anticipation right up until a thunderclap echoes throughout the apartment and makes you both jump.

“We really need to work on our timing, don’t we?” Nana jokes, harmonious laughter escaping her as you see her anticipation, affection, and arousal merge, forming the euphoric expression she wears earnestly.

“Yeah, so maybe one interruption,” you say, laughing along with her until her mess of giggles comes to an end.  

“But you are mine, Nana,” you whisper, your hot breath inflaming her senses as each syllable reaches her ears.  “I am yours, and tonight belongs to no one else.  Just us.  Tonight is ours.”

“Perfect,” she whispers back, that single word a lit match she drops directly into your heart.  “What now?”

“Show me,” you say, rolling you both and flipping your positions so she’s atop you.  You give her control.  Earnestly.  You give her your trust.  Easily.  You give her your all.  You give her everything.

When she takes your length in her hand, giving you your first hints of pleasure, you groan in relief.  When she lines you up with her entrance and drips arousal onto your tip, you inhale through your teeth, hissing as if you’d been burned.  And when she lowers herself onto you and takes you inside her, it literally takes your breath away.

“Fuuuck…” Nana hisses, sending your heart rate into the stratosphere.  “It feels … so … fucking … amazing …”

“You’re incredible Nana,” you growl through gritted teeth, hands latching onto her hips and gripping tighter than you probably should.  But any expectation of you being perfectly in control of yourself is entirely unreasonable when she’s moving like this, taking you deeper and deeper into her warmth at an agonizingly slow pace.  You can’t help it; her face, her body, the way she quivers - you can’t tear your eyes away, not when you see the beads of sweat splattered across her furrowed brow.  Not when you can practically hear the grinding of her tensed jaw.  And certainly not when her closed eyelids hide those rich chocolate eyes.

“Take your time,” you whisper soothingly.  “No need to rush, I’ll stay here forever as long as it’s with you.”  You see some of the tension evaporate from her shoulders, but that does nothing for the vice grip she still has around your cock.  Her progress accelerates slightly, taking on more and more of you with each passing moment before finally, finally your hips collide.

“There we go,” Nana mumbles, reopening her eyes and regaining a bit of that hubris you’ve come to know and … like.  Having finally reached her destination, you can see the gears turning in Nana’s head as she starts to experiment, rolling her hips against yours and exploring all the possible sensations she can experience.  One particular angle catches you off guard, causes you to moan even louder than before.  You see it in her eyes, see how they immediately ignite.  She repeats the motion, ripping another of those moans from deep within your chest as you see that gleefully sinister smile return.

The image of Nana bouncing up and down on your cock is obscene yet puts all other art to shame with its beauty.  You simultaneously appreciate and despise her dancing background as she moves with unyielding precision.  She places her hands on your shoulders as she continues exploring, utilizing her flexibility and strength to adjust her position and flex her muscles in ways you’d never thought possible, much less experienced.

“Oh my god Nana …” Your words trail off, lost to the pleasures of her latest findings, but they fan the flames all the same.

“Tell me how good that feels,” Nana purrs, punctuating her point by sliding herself back down onto the base of your cock.  Then again.  And again.  And again.

“It feels so—FUCK!—ing good,” you manage to choke out, throwing your head back in pleasure.  Almost instantly, Nana grabs you by the chin, pulling you forward and making it impossible to look anywhere else.

“Don’t you dare look anywhere else,” she growls, sending a new sensation down your spine as her ceaseless riding continues to chip away at your sanity.  “Tell me how I make you feel.”

“You—ugh!” Words escape you, your mind unable to comprehend things other than pleasure and pain and Nana.  Your grip tightens, tight enough to bruise, as you desperately try to cling to something, anything.  “You feel amazing.”

“What else?” Nana asks, picking up the pace.

“You drive me insane,” you tell her, sparing her hips further punishment as you focus on her breasts once again.

“Tell me more,” she demands, riding you even faster.

“You’re unbelievable!” you yell, mustering what little oxygen remains as you match her volume.

“More.”  Even faster.

“You’re perfect,” you say, voice dropping as her pitch rises.

“More!”  Faster.

“I love how you make me feel.”  Even quieter.

“More, more!!” she demands greedily, hips bouncing at a delirious pace as her face tenses once more.

“I love you Nana,” you whisper sweetly.  But you refuse to let the sentiment disrupt the moment, following her hips up as you thrust into her and throw off her rhythm.  “Cum for me.”

“FUCK—”

Nana somehow manages the impossible, staring through you with misty eyes as she succumbs to pleasure, drenching your lower half and the sheets below in her nectar as her orgasm violently overtakes her.  It takes everything you have to remain motionless, cock painfully throbbing as you try not to overwhelm her.  Each of you experiences the seconds as if they were lifetimes, you on the verge of pleasure and her well over the edge of it.

“You didn’t cum?” Nana asks, shifting slightly in your lap and forcing you to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from exploding inside her right then.  She raises herself off of you, maintaining eye contact the entire time she moves away and positions herself between your legs.  As she leans forward, opening her mouth and letting her warm breaths torment your torturously erect shaft further, she has the audacity to wink at you.

“Time to change that.”

The sight of her fucking tongue teasing the sensitive skin of your cock all the way from base to head is ungodly, and you know immediately, no camera flash required, that this image will be burned into your mind for all eternity.  It’s almost demeaning how casually she destroys you, idly wrapping her fingers around your shaft as her tongue begins to swirl around the head of your cock.  “Fucking hell Nana …”

If your words affect her, she’s doing a damned good job hiding it, drooling unapologetically all over the fingers that twist and pump your shaft, priming it as her mouth continues to work its way further and further down.  And all the while, the entire time she molds you to her desires like putty in her hands, she holds your eyes.  Lovingly.  Expectantly.  Enticingly.  

“I’m close …” You try to warn her, but her hum in response sends an all-new type of shock all the way down your shaft, cutting off any further waste of oxygen.  Your hands tangle into your sheets, threatening to shred them in your grip as you fight to keep the desire to let loose and absolutely defile her throat.  “I’m gonna—”

Nana ignores your words, listening to the signs of your body as she delicately unwraps her small hand from around your shaft.  The faintest flicker of disappointment flashes in the back of your mind, but it’s immediately eradicated as Nana forces herself downwards, catching you completely off-guard as she takes you into her throat, consuming you entirely.

“NANA!!”  She rips her name out from deep within you, sending you soaring over the edge of orgasm as you are unmade by pleasure.  Your body tenses and contracts, overwhelming pleasure pulsating from head to toe and every centimeter in between.  Wave after wave after wave after wave of your cum fires into her mouth, but you’re unable to bear witness as your eyelids shield you from the unholy sight.  It’s so much, so fast, that it drives you to the perfect intersection of pain and pleasure, leaving you unable to do anything but feel.

Eventually, your orgasm comes to an end, as all things must.  The first thing you do is open your eyes to see Nana, mouth still snugly around your cock as she swallows the last of drops of your deluge.  The second thing you do is remember to breathe.  You watch as she detaches herself from your cock, then joins you, for the second time today, in an agonizing minute of shaking shoulders and heaving chests as you both attempt to force enough oxygen into your lungs to be able to speak.  Fortunately, you’re both able to.  You just happen to do so first.

“So … dinner?  Or are you good … after …”

“I’m actually going to murder you,” she mutters, and you don’t even try to stop the laughter that forces its way out.

“You know, I was going to be upset at you for the whole ‘not maintaining eye contact’ thing,” Nana says with a smile of her own, climbing up the bed to lay against your side.  “But considering I’m the one that made you nearly black out, I’ll give you a pass this time.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” you offer, smiling sheepishly as you wrap an arm around her.  “But you were—”

“Yeah, uh …” she interjects, trailing off as her rapid pulse quickly delivers a crimson flush to her cheeks.  “I don’t know … it was just really nice—and really hot—to hear you say those things about me.”

“Any time,” you say as you lean in, gently kissing her on the crown of her head.  “By the way, did you … I didn’t really see …”

“Oh, this?” Nana asks, opening her mouth wide to show you the tongue and walls, unbesmirched by white.  “I’m sure you agree that was pretty hot, but I guess that means you don’t wanna—”

You roll over slightly, propping yourself up on your elbows as you climb over her once more, leaning down and cutting her sentence short as you capture her lips.  A small squeak of surprise escapes before she matches your passion, wrapping her arms around your neck as your tongues begin to dance.  As the intensity rises your heartbeat follows suit, sending blood all throughout your body and especially one place in particular.

“Not done, huh?” Nana murmurs, capturing your bottom lip between her teeth and gently sucking on it as she looks at you with her seductress’ gaze.

“For you?  Never,” you murmur back, intent and invitation clear in your eyes.

“We’ll have to test that sometime …” Nana responds, mirth and mischief manifesting in her smile as she releases your lip.  “For now though … show me.”

The kiss you leave on her lips is fleeting, acting more as a palate cleanser than any declaration or escalation.  You grab a pillow with one hand, lifting Nana up with the other and placing it under the small of her back as you set the stage.  With a bit of additional leverage gained and anticipation built, you line yourself up with her entrance, looking to Nana who nods in confirmation as you enter her once again.

You push further into her slowly, eager to reach the previous round’s intensity but mindful of her pleasure as her tightness suffocates your shaft.  Ravenous for more, you lean in, greeted by the mixed scents of coconuts and cherry blossoms and sweat and everything else about her that makes your head spin.  You’re quick to attack her neck again, latching onto one of the many spots you noted earlier and sucking relentlessly.

“Wait wait wait, no marks!” Nana exclaims, placing her hands on your shoulders and pushing you away from your target.

“I’m so sorry, I should have—” Your apology grinds to a halt as Nana, sinful gaze meeting your own, delicately lays a single finger against your lips.

“No … visible marks,” she clarifies, smirking seductively as she lowers her arms and offers you free reign once more.

You’re more than happy to seize the opportunity, capturing one of her nipples between your teeth and beginning your oral assault as you suck, swirl, and tease her with your tongue.  One hand begins exploring her body, creating only the tiniest bit of contact as it glides over each area of her flawless skin, searching for unexpected pleasure points anywhere you can reach.

“Be vocal,” you murmur, breath rolling like fog over her breast.  “I want nothing more than to know every single spot on your body that drives you wild.”

You see out of the corner of your eyes Nana opening her mouth, as if to respond, but as your hips collide once more and you fully bury your length inside of her, a deep, heady moan bulldozes through her best laid plans and tears free instead.  As you begin to thrust faster, deeper, you sink your other hand below her waistline, searching only a moment before finding the sensitive bud of her clit and adding it to your list of ministrations.

“Tell me Nana, tell me what feels good,” you say, soothing voice a stark contrast to the frenetic pace at which you chase her pleasure.

“Your fucking mouth, I love how you suck on my—ugh!” Another day, you’d feel cruel for cutting her off so rudely, but honestly, who could blame you for doing what she asks?  “And the way you feel inside me, thrusting in so deep …”  This time, it’s a sharp intake of air, but you’re happy to earn another moan as you thrust deep inside her again.  Then again, for good measure.  One more time.  “And I love the way you … with your hand … on my thigh … yesssss …”  You’ll have to make a special note for that one, apparently figure eights are the best pattern to trace along the inside of her thighs.  Who knew?

You get lost in the perfection that is Nana, thrusting wildly as you ride the high all the way up to the summit.  You mar her flawless skin with marks of desire, leave little reminders of pleasure where no one else will see them.  You feast on her skin, attempting to satiate a hunger you both know will never be sated.  Your hands roam as well, acting with a mind of their own as one roams every uncharted inch of her skin while the other stays glued between her thighs, toying mercilessly with her most sensitive area.  It’s plenty for you to keep track of, but if Nana’s reactions are anything to go by, it’s bordering on too much for her to handle.

Time’s a relative thing in general, but here, in the bedroom with Nana, there’s no eternity better spent.  You chase your pleasures together, call and response, back and forth, her and you, united as one.  You cherish the opportunity to care for Nana for once, bringing her pleasure in as many ways as possible.  “Fuck!”  You seek those profanities.  “Oh god—”  You crave those indecencies.  “You’re gonna make me …”  You hunt her peaks, and as she thrashes, shakes, quivers, and cries in your arms, you’re there to hold her the whole way down.

“Nana, I’m getting close,” you tell her, growing delirious as pleasure begins to overwhelm you.  “Where—”

“I swear to god if you cum anywhere other than inside of me …” Nana threatens, though her glassy eyes and lolled tongue diminish the impact a bit.

You feel Nana’s legs wrap around your waist, pulling you in as her arms do the same.  Her lips claim yours, capturing any senses that weren’t already completely overwhelmed by her and her alone.  As you lean into her, tongues dancing as your body disconnects from your mind, pleasure shoots through your veins like a shot or seventy of adrenaline.  If you were any more coherent, you might’ve been able to enjoy the details, like the way your cock’s twitching or the way Nana shudders slightly each time you fire another shot into her or the way you keep pumping, refusing to let any of your cum go anywhere but as deep as you can fuck it inside her.  Unfortunately, all you experience is the taste of Nana on your lips and the red, foggy haze of rapture that permeates your fucking soul.  Unlucky, really.

Your orgasm ends, eventually.  You force yourself to pull away, force yourself to focus so that you can see the elated expression of a well-fucked Nana.  There’s the faintest hint of tears in the corners of her eyes, each one earned at her own apex of pleasure.  You withdraw further, pulling out of her fully, then lay beside her and pull her into your arms.

“Hey there beautiful, you alright?”

“Not the word I would use,” Nana murmurs into your chest.  “We should get caught in the rain more often …”

Once again, quiet laughter escapes you, as it always seems to when you’re with Nana.  “I’ll keep that in mind,” you promise.  “In the meantime, we should probably get cleaned up and showered.”

“Not yet …” Nana groans, lightly smacking you like you’re an alarm clock disrupting her beauty sleep.

“Okay okay, no rush,” you respond, pulling her close and allowing the sounds of the gentle rain to fill the room.  You treasure the tranquility, basking in the simple sensations of her hands in yours and her soft breaths against your chest.  Many stanzas later, the storm’s song softens, then slowly comes to a close, but you stay there together, finding solace in each other’s embrace.  Eventually, once Nana’s fully recovered, you get up to turn the shower on and begin grabbing things, giving her everything she needs: tissues, wipes, water, hugs, kisses, and your undivided attention.

“I know this is an incredibly egotistical question, but can you walk?” you ask, smiling sheepishly as she rolls her eyes.  “Or do you want me to carry you?”

“Yes, I can, but carry me anyways,” Nana declares, throwing open her arms and waiting expectantly.

“As you wish,” you declare with a flourish, bowing deeply before scooping Nana into your arms and carrying her bridal style into the bathroom.

“Showering together?” she asks suggestively and shamelessly.

“Showering together,” you reply warmly, setting her down and testing the water.  “Let me spoil you for a bit, no need to rush.”

“Very well,” she accepts, stepping into the shower.  “Now hurry and get in here so I don’t have to warm you up all over again.”

“Yes ma’am,” you respond, climbing in after her.  You’ve never been more grateful for your replacement shower head and its absurd water pressure, though you make sure to get close to Nana just in case.

Even as you two rinse yourselves off, you can’t help but be mesmerized by the water flowing down Nana’s perfect figure.  You watch as the many drops coat each long strand of her flowing golden locks, run down each beautiful feature that comprises her face, then finally succumbs to gravity after tracing every last millimeter of her jawline.  From there, you follow their journey as they land on her collarbone and continue on into sacred territory.  Thousands of individual droplets gently caress the curvature of her breasts as they pass by, while thousands more race down the soft skin of the arms and hands that inspire so many fans to dream of their embrace.  For those droplets lucky enough to remain attached after traveling past her abs and below her waist, a pair of gently toned legs defined by years upon years of dance await.  Finally, between the pale skin of her inner thighs, the perfectly shaven holy place of indecent desires and fantasies awaits a lucky few.  Lucky you.

“You’re staring again,” Nana says, breaking you out of your reverie as she smiles shyly.

“Nana, I absolutely am,” you admit freely, shamelessly.  “You’re right here in front of me and I still can’t believe you’re real.”

“Oh, um … thanks,” Nana mumbles, turning away from you just as you see a familiar splash of crimson.

“You’re welcome, now hold still,” you tell her, grabbing a bottle of conditioner and squeezing some into your hand.  “Let me wash your hair.”

“Oh!  I mean, okay …”

You spread the viscous liquid across your hands, then begin massaging it into the many, many strands of gold that flow together and form her hair.  “This conditioner worked wonderfully back when I had lighter highlights, so hopefully it should be fine for you too.”

You trail off, focusing on the task at hand and the silk between your fingertips, but you can’t help but add, “But I wouldn’t mind buying some of whatever you normally use and keeping it here … just in case.”

Nana turns back, glaring at you for a moment before allowing you to continue.  “That’s a sentence with a whole lot of implications, but you’re cute so I’ll let you get away with it.”

“Good to know!  I promise to not use that information responsibly,” you jest, grinning uncontrollably as Nana huffs in indignation.  “Okay, let that sit for a couple minutes before rinsing it out.”

Nana turns, stepping closer to you and keeping her hair out of the waterflow as she does so.  “Can I wash yours?”

“Of course,” you tell her, handing her the bottle before closing your eyes and leaning down to allow her easier access.

“Thank you …” she murmurs.  After a few anticipatory moments in the dark, you feel her hands start working their way across your head, massaging you and coating your own strands in that same liquid that you apply on a daily basis, but have never experienced like this.

A whine slips past your lips as she finishes and pulls away, causing a score of giggles to emerge as you open your eyes to see the adorable, joyous expression of Nana’s smiling face.  “So, what’s next?”

“I’m going to wash my body with this,” you tell her, holding up a bottle of body wash as you hand her a different one.  “And you can wash yourself with that, because if I end up putting my hands all over your body, we’re never getting out of here.”

“You’re probably right,” Nana admits, mischief taking over her smile.  “However …”

“You’re not the one paying the water bill, shush!” you exclaim, turning away and beginning to lather yourself up.  Nana’s laughter rings out once more, reverberating off the tight walls of your shower as she too begins to wash herself of the improprieties that cover every centimeter of each of your bodies.

Somehow, you both manage to behave, rinsing yourselves off before getting out and toweling yourselves dry.  Nana sits as you brush her hair like Rapunzel, blow drying it slowly as you meticulously work your way through her golden mane.  It isn’t easy to find a comfortable set of clothes for her to wear, but with a pair of rolled pant legs and a hair-tied shirt, you’re able to make do.  Together, you eagerly order delivery from your favorite chicken restaurant, and while you’re waiting, begin the process of cleaning up.

Nana helps you strip your sheets, the most traumatized victims of your shared endeavors, off your bed, then assists you in wrangling a new set onto the mattress.  Your heart glows with warmth at how right it feels to perform such a mundane household activity with her, even as the fitted sheet snaps up once again and nearly hits you in the face.  Nana’s laughter rings out first, but yours is close behind, warding off any frustration as you enjoy the little simplicities of spending time with her.  You both clean up your kitchen, sending your soaked clothes to join your laundry as hers go into the wash, cleansing them of the rain’s influence as you both settle on the couch.

“I think that’s everything we needed to take care of,” you say, just as a thought crosses your mind.  “Do we need to get you some—”

“Don’t worry, I’ve been taking precautions for a bit.  You know, just in case,” Nana tells you, tone relaxed but eyes alight with mischief.

“You—what—just in case?!” you sputter.  “Since when?!”

“That night Wooyeon walked in on us,” Nana remarks casually.  “I wasn’t gonna let you kiss me like that without finishing the job.”

You’re frozen in silence, unsure whether to follow-up with confusion, accusations, questions, gratitude, or something else entirely, but the familiar cadence of the delivery man’s knocks on the door saves you from needing an answer.  After enjoying your meals and making some light conversation, you both end up on your insanely comfy couch, curled up together under your stupidly soft blanket as Nana selects another movie, this time opting for a cheesy romance flick that she swears is different from the rest.  Ultimately, she’s not wrong, as any experience shared with Nana ends up being far more enjoyable than the alternatives, and you end up enjoying yourself quite a bit.  You lay with her, laugh with her, and hold her close as you wipe away her tears.

Enthralled by Nana and her investment in the movie, you barely even notice as the hours pass, the clouds dissipate, and the sun shines bright for a fleeting flash before disappearing below the skyline.  It’s not until the movie finishes, fading to black for the final time, that you note the darkness that’s overtaken the world outside your little corner of paradise.  After confirming with her other members that she’s free tomorrow, Nana joins you getting ready for bed.

“Here, this has barely been used,” you tell her, handing her a toothbrush and smiling as a thought enters your mind.  “I guess I’ll just have to get you one of those too.”

“You just might have to,” Nana says, wide grin mirroring your own as you both begin your nightly routines.

A short while later, after locking up and killing all the lights, you join Nana in bed.  It’s an odd sensation as you turn off your alarm clock, something you haven’t done in months, maybe even years, but when you see the weary eyes Nana’s fighting to keep open, you decide it’s for the best.  You turn to her, exchanging good night’s and I love you’s before she closes in, kissing you tenderly before turning away and snuggling close against your body.  You two form a perfect fit as you hold her, refusing to let go even as sleep overtakes you.  Tonight, you have neither prayers nor requests, simply gratitude for the blessing in your arms.  Tonight, you dream of neither girl nor ghost, simply a warm silence that wraps itself around you in a familiar embrace.

tick…

tock…

For once, for the first time in a long, long while, your awakening is not sudden, but serene.  Your eyes slowly open, witnessing the twin golden glows that illuminate the tranquil space in their soft, mellow light.  You’re forced to squint slightly at the brightness of the rays of light filtering through the window, but even the rising sun pales in comparison to the radiance resting within your embrace.  Nana’s resting expression is one of bliss, subtle curves of a smile hidden at the edges of her lips even as she leisurely draws breath.

Somehow, sometime in the middle of the night, she seems to have interwoven your hand with hers, clutching it tightly against her breast as she lies dormant.  You can’t help but feel, in this moment, it seems almost too perfect to be a dream.  Like your mind wouldn’t even entertain this as achievable in a best-case scenario.  Yet here you are, blessed beyond imagination.

You get an idea, hoping to surprise her with breakfast.  You slowly, delicately attempt to remove your hand from hers, but are stopped suddenly as her grip tightens.  “Stopppp …”

“You’re awake?” you ask in surprise.

“Of course, since before you woke up,” Nana murmurs, pulling you closer.  “I just wanted you to hold me longer.”

“Nana, I …”  Your words trail off, your mind unable to even form words as you try to comprehend how you could possibly deserve something this perfect.  “Thank you … Are you hungry?  I was going to go make breakfast—”

“Breakfast can wait,” Nana interjects, flipping over to face you as she snuggles in even closer.  “Just stay with me, like this.  Please.”

This time, at least, you know exactly what to say.  “Of course, Nana.  Anything for you.”

She remains silent, but the pounding of her heart tells you everything you’d ever need to know.  You do as she asks, pulling the covers back over you as you wrap your arm around Nana, pulling her closer as you plant a gentle kiss atop her head.  Somewhere, deep in the back of your mind, you know that the clock ticks ever onwards.  But as you look down and see the little smile that only you seem to bring out of Nana, you realize there’s no better way to spend an eternity than moments like this with the one you love.  You’ll stay.  Forever, if she wants.  And with the way she clings to you, like you’re the only thing keeping her on Earth instead of up with the other angels, you trust that she’ll stay too.  Maybe even forever.

tick…

tock…

tick…

tock…

“So, is hugging a common thing with you?  Like, do you greet everyone you meet by trying to break their ribs?”

“Are you complaining about my hugs?!” Nana gasps, unwrapping her arms from around you and pulling away.

“No, absolutely not!” you exclaim, nearly tripping over your words as they leave your mouth at the speed of light.  “I’m just curious, okay?  It seems like a big thing with you.”

“Fine, I’ll answer your ridiculous question,” Nana says, retaking your arm.  “I occasionally give hugs to people I’m close to.  I often hug those I care about most.  I always hug you.”

“Oh,” you manage to say.  Your curiosity sated; you allow the comfortable silence to return.  As you two walk together, you marvel at the vibrant streets, delighted in the changing of the seasons as spring brings its warmth to what was a desolate Korean winter wasteland.

Unfortunately, a single dark shop stands out amongst the rows of brightly lit stores that litter both sides of the street.  Your destination, Aunt Kim’s noodle shop, seems empty.

“Oh no, it’s closed!  If only someone had an apartment nearby where we could spend the evening instead,” Nana announces dramatically, looking up at you and waggling her eyebrows shamelessly.

“If only,” you say, tugging her along.  “Let’s go see if she left a note saying when she’ll be back.”

“‘Closed this evening for a special occasion’,” Nana reads aloud.  “‘Will return to normal business tomorrow.’  That’s strange, I wonder what’s so important that she was willing to close the shop.”

“Strange indeed,” you agree, searching around in your pocket for a moment before pulling out a key.  “Wanna find out?”

Before she even has the chance to respond, you unlock the door, pushing it open and holding it for her as you invite her in.

“Give me a sec!” you call out, venturing into the darkness as she follows you inside.

“What?  How did you …” Nana trails off, covering her eyes as you flip the switch and restore light to the establishment.  Within, two steaming bowls wait upon a small table near the left corner of the store; upon “your” table, the one where you two have always sat over the past couple of months, the one with the edge broken off, the one that’s imperfect, but that’s okay, because nothing is.  Well, except Nana.

“No but really, what is going on?” Nana asks, walking as if in a daze as she joins you at the table.

“I wanted to do something nice for you for your birthday,” you explain, pulling out the chair for her.  “I thought it’d be nice to have the place to ourselves for once, and Aunt Kim was kind enough to agree.  She seemed more than willing to help out, probably because of our … ahem, ‘generous contributions’ to the store.”

“Ah, I see,” Nana chuckles, smiling brightly.  “Thank you, but you really didn’t have to do all this …”

“Maybe,” you admit with a shrug.  “But for you, I’d do anything.  This is the first time I’ve gotten to do something sweet for you, just let me spoil you for one night.”

“Alright, fine,” Nana says, huffing in mock exasperation.  “Then let’s eat!”

You both eagerly dig in, savoring the familiar tastes of your favorite meals.  Unsurprisingly, even as the flavors dance along your tastebuds, the sight of Nana in front of you is all that matters.  Even with her golden color replaced by a dark chocolate brown, her radiant visage shines under the warm amber glow of the Edison bulbs above.  You lose yourself in the sight of her, food long forgotten until her voice brings you back to reality.

“This is soooooooooo good, did you make this?”

“Oh, gods no,” you exclaim, earning a laugh from each of you.  “Aunt Kim was kind enough to make it just before we arrived.”

“Okay good,” Nana replies, wry smirk locked and loaded as she continues to fire shots.  “I don’t think I would have ever been able to forgive you if you brought me here just to subject me to your cooking.”

“Oh, come on,” you say, rolling your eyes and turning away to hide the smile you can’t contain.  “You know you love me.”

“Obviously.”

That single word has no right to hit as hard as it does, but you can’t help but whip back around to face her.  You pause, allowing the smile to slip as your voice drops.  “I love you.”

“Believe it or not, even more obvious,” she responds, still attempting to hide behind levity.  But you see it in the faint glimmer of her eyes, in the way her lips part slightly, in the way she leans in just the slightest bit closer.

You don’t have to move far to close the distance, leaning in and gently pressing your lips against hers.  The combination of the dishes’ flavors explodes across your senses, adding a new type of spice to one of your favorite activities.  Even more than usual, it drives you crazy, amplifying your hunger as you greedily up the intensity, wrapping your hand around the back of her neck and—

“Honestly, at this point, I’m not even surprised.”

Nana immediately breaks away from the kiss, turning to see Wooyeon walking in, a box in one hand and her forehead in the other.

“Seriously, we just keep having the worst timing,” you say, laughing warmly as you stand to greet her.  “Thanks again for picking this up, I really appreciate it.”

“You’re very welcome,” Wooyeon responds, taking a seat next to Nana.  “Your place is nice by the way.”

“Wait, you’re telling me Wooyeon got a key to your place before I did?” Nana asks indignantly.  “Unbelievable, really.”

Your laughter follows you as you retreat to the kitchen, where you grab Wooyeon’s meal and return to the table.  “That is a good point, I should be careful who I give those out to.”

“Indeed,” Wooyeon says, smirking sinisterly.  “I might just invite myself in some time.”

“Alright alright, enough,” Nana declares as you burst into a quiet fit of laughter.  “Please, can we try to have a normal dinner?  It’d be nice to have an interaction between my two closest friends that isn’t awkward or cut short for once.”

The two of you agree and all three of you dive back into your dinners, casually conversing about your days, how good the food is, and basically anything at all.  You happily join in, enjoying the chance to get to know Wooyeon better and seeing a new side of Nana that only her friend and fellow idol can bring out.  A month ago, you never could have imagined seamlessly going from conversations about your work to stories about their backstage adventures to what movies they’d watched recently.  Yet, on this especially significant day, you’re happy to join Nana at the intersection between her personal and professional life.  You’re happy to make a joke and be blessed by the harmonization of Nana and Wooyeon laughing together.  It’s musical, it’s magical, it’s meant to be.

“Now, will you tell me what’s in the box?” Nana eventually asks.

Wooyeon looks to you for confirmation, then reaches down and opens it, revealing an overly frosted, downright cartoonish-looking piece of cake that looks like it was taken right out of a Kirby game.

“Oh my god it’s perfect!” Nana exclaims, eagerly grabbing for her phone as you take a finger and run it through the icing.  “Hey!  I was gonna take a picture of that!!”

A devious smile creeps across your face as you lean forward, booping Nana on the nose and getting frosting everywhere.  “HEY!”

You immediately lean away, desperately attempting her wild assault as Nana attempts to return the favor.  Within a minute, you’re out of breath from laughing so hard, and from the corner of your eye you can see Wooyeon not faring much better.  Nana catches you, of course, and you’re forced to suffer the consequences of your actions as bits of frosting are smeared all across your face.

Eventually, the commotion settles and you’re all able to enjoy the piece in peace, savoring the wonderful flavors as you share it together.  Well after the sun sets, well after the streets outside go dark and the clock ticks past the shop’s normal closing time, the three of you remain, sharing stories, telling tales, and enjoying each other’s company.  As always, a small part of you rues the passage of time, knowing that this too must come to an end.  But for as long as you possibly can, you preserve this moment, refusing to take it for granted as you treasure the memory being made.  Because you know that you’ll remember this night for the rest of your life.  Because nights like this make you realize you’ve been gifted everything you could have ever wished for.

(My sincerest gratitude to @braaan and @majorblinks for reviewing this fic, I can’t thank you enough for how much your insights improved it and how much your love & support meant to me.  This fic is dedicated to @capslocked, a known believer, and @okaylikesmomo, the newest member of the cult.  I hope you enjoyed reading this story about hugs that happened to feature smut; the next story idea I intend to finish features far more snark and smut, with no hugs in sight.  Anticipate it at your own risk.)

[multific]

Adore You

Astarion x Reader

Summary: Your daughter has a specific toy she loves the most.

Tessele loved playing around the house.

She had a love for animals.

Those poor chickens and squirrels that stumbled into your garden, unsuspecting.

She loved chasing them around but more than anything, she loved horses.

You blamed your husband for her love.

When she was just a little baby, Astarion decided one day to carve a toy for her. He thought long and hard as to what animal to choose.

He ended up with a simple horse and Tessele fell in love with the wooden toy the second she got it.

She adored the gift so much, she always had it in her hands, she even lost it a couple times, leaving you and your beloved to search for it.

It was honestly so heartwarming to see just how much Astarion adored Tessele.

You remember the moment you told him about your pregnancy, he barely wanted to believe you.

“Are you joking? It’s a rather cruel joke, My Love.” he said.

“I’m not! It’s the truth! I got confirmation today. I am with child!”

But the disbelief never left his face.

Only once your belly began to show did he really believe you.

“You weren’t playing jokes on me.” he said as he watched you caress your stomach, a small baby bump showing as you smiled at him with pure love.

He placed his palm against your belly and let out a small laugh.

“I’m going to be a father.”

You often feared he wouldn’t want to be a father. That he would reject the idea of a child with you, but as his gentle fingers massaged your back to ease your discomfort or the way he would so gently kiss the exact place on your skin where your child kicked, his actions proved you wrong.

And you were glad he did.

You thought nothing could top the happiness in his eyes during your pregnancy, but then you were proven wrong.

The moment she was born, Tessele became the center of your world.

The beautiful little girl looked much like her father, but had your eyes. 

You often caught Astarion standing in her room, watching her sleep at any time of the day.

He just stood there, careful not to wake her as he looked at her with nothing but adoration.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak   @manduse   @jacalineiscomingforyou  @mandoloriancookie @noname2246

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[loveslibrarywp]

Little Red

Aemond Targaryen x Stark!reader

Summary: After only wanting to take a simple stroll in the evening, you end up getting chased through the woods by a mysterious stranger..

Warnings: NSFW. Outdoor sex (she gets fucked behind a tree). Non con (at first). Breeding kink. Praising + degradation kink. Werewolf!Aemond. Reader is Helaena’s friend. Aemond lowkey obsessed with reader (Joe Goldberg type shi).

Requested by: @slytherincursebreaker

“I don’t know Helaena, I just want to be married and have children like you!” The young stark girl complained to her friend whom sat beside her on the loveseat. “My marriage is the least bit happy!” Helaena protested with a sigh as she continued to stitch onto her cloth.

“Some women have happy marriages, though I’m sorry yours isn’t..” she said as she placed a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder. “It is alright, I find solitude in being alone anyway.” She said with a bright smile.

“Well, it is getting dark and I don’t want to talk your ear off, my dear friend. Shall we continue tomorrow?” She asked as she placed down her embroidered cloth on the seat. Helaena agreed as she went to tend to her children.

Y/N tied on her red coat and walked towards the exit of the castle, though she didn’t feel the eyes on her as she did so, nor had she felt them the entire day while with Helaena.

She made it to the entrance of the forest she adored taking long walks in. She loved nature and all of the animals she saw as she strolled through the path. Little did she know, something was following her as the sun came down and the moon hung in the sky.

The stars lit up the gravel path as she walked through the dark forest. She watched little squirrels run up the trees, fighting over the nuts they had collected from the day, she giggled at the small animals but she felt silent when she heard a twig snap behind her.

She whipped towards the sound to see nothing, just the dark abyss between the trees. She let out a deep breath she had been keeping in and decided to just keep walking.

With her foot in front of the other, she heard another stick snap under something foot. Her heartbeat began to pick up as well as her speed. She quickly walked through the trees and began to think if it was time to go home.

The sound of leaves crunching filled the quiet forest. She stopped in her tracks, “hello…?” She called out. Once she heard the sound again, she took off as fast as her feet could take her.

Another figure ran right after her, practically announcing that they were following her. Her heart was beating out of her chest from running and from fear.

Softly and low growls came from the figure chasing her. ‘What was it?’ She thought. She continued to run throw the thick trees of the forest. She looked back to see the figure but she only saw a dark cloak hiding the figures face and body.

Her hair and red cloak flew behind her in the wind as she sprinted. She was terrified for her life. What did this thing want from her? She panted and gasped for air.

She quickly turned and hid behind a nearby tree to maybe lose the creature. She quickly caught her breath and hid her body behind the big tree.

The forest was silent. Too silent. She felt a hand cup her mouth and grab her waist to pull her towards its body.

She screamed into its hand. It’s long claws caressed her cheek. She was then pressed up against the tree she was hiding behind.

The figure only looked down so she couldn’t see its face. Yet, it towered over her. “Please, let me go!” She shouted at the tall figure. She was shaking in fear, fear the she may not see the light of the day again.

“I’ll do anything! Please!” She pleaded. The figure finally spoke, “anything..?” It said with a masculine voice, one she had very well heard before. Tears painted her red cheeks, “please..”

The cloaked man took off his hood to reveal its face. Aemond. It was Aemond.

“Aemond? Why are you doing this? Let me go!” She cried out. Why would her best friend’s younger brother try to scare her like this? Was it a prank?

“I’m going to finally have my way with you, little one..” he growled into her ear as he grabbed her neck. “You said you’d do anything, right? So, just listen to me…it’s that simple, lovie.” A sly smirk was plastered on his face.

“Why? What are you going to do to me?” She asked as she shook in fear and confusion. His hand that wasn’t pressed up against her neck slid down her leg and up her white dress. His long fingers caressed her thigh and her hip as he slid into her undergarments, snapping them off her hips.

“I just wanna play with you, baby..” he whispered with a soft smile, she just stared at him in shock. The names he was calling her and the way he was touching her left her with a burning sensation in her belly and an ache in her cunt. She didn’t want to feel like this for him, not at this moment that is. Not when he was scaring her.

He dipped his fingers into her panties felt the growing arousal she had felt just moments ago. He laughed when his fingers felt the wetness of her cunt, “you like this, don’t you, little girl?”

“Tsk, tsk…sweet girl. What are we going to do with you?” He asked with false worry. She couldn’t draw her eyes away from his face no matter how bad she wanted too. She hated how attractive he looked in this moment.

She let out a small whimper as he flicked over her clit. Her noises made him smile, oh how sick he was. “Aemond, please…” she begged. She didn’t know what she was pleading for, multiple things maybe.

“Don’t worry, lovie. I’ll take good care of you.” He nipped at her neck and moved his hands down her body. He tugged her dress up and over her hips and lifted her off the ground.

She didn’t know what to do, she didn’t even know if she wanted this. He unlaced his breeches with one hand and pulled out his leaking cock. She didn’t know something so vulgar could be so pretty.

He swiftly pulled her panties the side and ran his tip through her slit. He tapped his tip against her swollen clip. She whimpered and whined at his actions, “please…” she begged.

“Please what?” He asked, he dragged his cock against her dripping cunt as he waited for her answer. “Fuck me, Aemond.” She pleaded.

He plunged his cock inside of her in one thrust. She almost fell over as she moaned before he held her up. His pace moved fast and uncontrolled, yet so good. The quiet forest was filled with her moans and whimpers and his low groans.

“What a little whore you are…getting fucked behind a tree, where anyone could stumble upon us..” he groaned in her ear. She could only respond with her whines.

He let out a low laugh at her little noises. They only fueled his desire and drive to fuck her stupid. He pounding into her, her back was hitting the tree but she could only focus on the pleasure the man was giving her.

“Oh fuck!” She gasped as he repeatedly hit that special spot inside of her, “that feel good? Fucking slut..” he said as his fingers moved towards her clit. He pressed lighting into the small button and rubbed little circles into it, earning him a loud moan.

“I heard you with Helaena today. You want a husband, lovie? I can be that for you. I can make every desire of yours come true.” He admitted, making her gasp as he continued to fuck her. “What that to happen? want me to be your husband?” She nodded against the tree even though she hadn’t completely comprehended what she was agreeing too, she was too fucked out to even think.

“I bet you do, sweet girl. I’ll give you anything you want.” He smiled as his thrust became short and scattered. He was reached his peak as was she. She clenched around his cock and her moans became even louder than they were before.

“-so close!” She shouted. He picked up his pace with his fingers, her peak came crashing over her. She came with a groan. Aemond fucked her through her orgasam as he approached his. “Gonna let me fuck a baby into, lovie?” He groaned at the thought of her pregnant with his child. “Yes! Please, Aemond! Let me carry your children!” She gasped.

He groaned as he came inside her at her words. All of his dreams were coming true at that moment, she was finally his.

“You’re mine now.”

[andradrawsstuff]

An in-depth character analysis of Skipper: pt 2

So, tv Skipper is a bit of a contrast to movie Skipper, as I stated in my MASSIVE ramble in part 1 💀 Even though he’s so different, he does have his quirks and some decent character development. It’s also great to see how much Tom’s voice acting evolves over the seasons and I thank him so much for putting his heart into it 🥺

This is also going to be a long one I am so sorry, I tried

This version of Skipper started off pretty similar to his movie counterpart as the show was finding its footing, but soon evolved into his own version of himself as the series went on. In early season 1, we see Skipper be somewhat down to earth and have quite an honourable attitude. He’s not super shouty-screamy and we see him being pretty domestic, which is probably because season 1 is pretty slice-of-life compared to the other two seasons.

I think the main points to mention here are in Happy King Julien Day and Assault and Batteries - in hkjd, despite all sorts of interruptions Skipper gets a little angry, but doesn’t really act upon it, he just minds his own business. Eventually he confronts Julien, but remains civil throughout the entire thing. In Assault and Batteries, he takes the batteries but does so sneakily to minimise confrontation. And when Julien chases him, he doesn’t fight. Throughout the entire episode (and a good bit of the show), he remains somewhat civil and tries to minimise confrontation with Julien. He’s also pretty sweet at the end when he offers a high five like bro that’s adorable I can’t-

We also get to see some decent character development for him in season 1, as there’s a lot of Skipper-centric episodes. In Needle Point, Skipper realises he should take the shot so that Private doesn’t get sick - he takes accountability for his actions, and his conversation with Private is pretty sweet. I love that you get to see Skipper being sweet (especially with Private) in the series, since they’ve had the time to show a bit of his vulnerable side here and there.

But I think that the most important character development point in Skipper’s story is Miss Understanding - Since the start of season 1, Skipper was pretty sexist and it gets so bad that he thinks he can’t do anything he did before because he’s a girl. He eventually saves the guys and the episode comes to a resolution.

But here’s the thing, not once is he sexist after that (Unless I’ve missed a few things here and there but I think he genuinely learns his lesson) which makes me think that his sexism is intentional on the writers part bc they do make it a point that it’s wrong, so w tpom and it’s pretty neat and rare for an early 2000s show to cover. This is why I love love love season 1 Skipper - he’s flawed but in a realistic way and he usually makes an effort to fix his mistakes. He’s also quite nonchalantly chaotic like in the movies, whereas in later seasons he’s more aggressively chaotic if you catch my drift? Idk how to explain well lmao.

As for his other traits, he’s pretty paranoid and egocentric, but still as suave, sassy and sarcastic as movie Skipper. He’s defo got a lot more of an “I’m right and you’re wrong” attitude than his counterpart and is a fair bit grumpier which is pretty funny. He’s got a bit of a hero complex here (eg. Treasure of the Golden Squirrel) and at first he’s arguably more chaotic good than neutral compared to the movies, but it’s not such a big change that it makes it bad in any way. I mean, he still kinda has it out for the humans and chooses violence without a second thought which is hilarious to me 💀

As the series progresses, Skipper starts to get increasingly paranoid and aggressive, and a lot of his negative traits start to show more. In early season 2 he’s fine but you can tell when the writers were starting to lose the plot both with the characters and stories in late season 2. It kinda feels like his character took a 180 turn and went backwards, but honestly it’s not that noticeable and I just happen to love analysing these things. I mean, it also happens to Kowalski, who around the same time starts becoming a bit of an asshole and gets worse in season 3 - in Snowmageddon, he’s rlly dismissive of Private and Fred.

I think Skipper also ends up suffering what I like to call the “Sabrina Spellman treatment” because he starts making mistakes and refusing to take accountability, usually pinning the blame on someone else without repercussions. I guess it’s the only real “problem” I have with his character in the series but honestly it’s just something that tends to happen as shows go on for a long time and it’s not all that bothersome. But the thing is, he starts getting better again in season 3 and he gets more character development (eg. Snowmageddon where him and Marlene work rlly well as a team and Antics on Ice where he’s pretty much doing everything for Private 🥺) so idk what happened there 💀

Overall, tv Skipper is still a loveable little guy and I find it so funny when he gets angry out of nowhere, my fav crazy Skipper moment being the one where he swears he’s never gonna end up in Hoboken and starts screaming his lungs out 💀 (absolutely top-notch voice acting as always ofc).

But with this, I hope that you’ve enjoyed my ridiculously long character analysis and feel free to tell me your thoughts, this is all just my opinion after all :)

If you’re somehow still reading this I congratulate you, you get a gold star ⭐️

[jenna0rtega27]

My request

Could you do a Wednesday Addams x reader smut

She catches you flirting with Enid and reads the text between you two, and later you come over to her dorm, it’s only her there, and she’s mad and silent.

She try’s explaining but is to angry to do so, ends up fucking you until she’s not angry anymore

G!p Wednesday btw

At the end enid walks in to see you two in Wednesday’s bed lol

Thank you so much.🖤

The love of his life

Masterlist

Thank you for asking +18 Wednesday x F!Reader (mermaid) Summary: Request Warning: Wednesday g!p, smut, penetration, rough sex, jealousy, slight mention of choking, dom!Wednesday, sub!Reader

Note: Sorry if this sucks. I am very tired today. But I still wanted to respond to a request so I hope you will like it anyway. Number of words: 1597

3rd Person Pov:

Y/n is sitting on a table outside. She is between Enid, Yoko and Divina sitting on Yoko's lap. And in front of her there are Bianca, Ajax and Eugene. It’s the weekend so no one has school.

"How's it going with Wednesday?" » Divina asks, turning to Y/n to give her full attention. She wraps her arms around Yoko's neck who also gives you her full attention.

" I don't know. Wednesday is less distant with me than the others. But she doesn't want us to show our affection in front of others. So we don't kiss in public. She doesn't even want to hold hands in public. » Y/n gives a sad smile to her friends. She wished Wednesday would show her love towards her more.

“And when you are alone? » Enid asks curiously. Y/n's cheeks reddened thinking about yesterday with Wednesday fucking her.

“To deprive her of that is a whole different person but I’ll keep that to myself.” »

Y/n and Wednesday have been together for 3 months. Even though everyone at school knows you're in a relationship, Wednesday still doesn't like to show love in public. But for Y/n it didn't bother her because in private, Wednesday showed her love. Y/n was truly in love with the goth and she knew she was going to end her life with this emotionless girl.

“Yeah good idea I don’t want to have too much explanation that could harm my hearing. » Adds Bianca with an expression of disgust. Everyone laughs at his comment.

“My shoulders hurt so much, yesterday’s fencing really exhausted me. » Enid complains while massaging her right shoulder which is painful.

“Wait, I’m going to massage you, you’ll feel better. » Y/n gets up and stands behind Enid and begins to massage her shoulders. Enid closes her eyes in happiness. It's been a long time since she had a shoulder massage.

" Yes like this. Just there. » Enid groaned slightly from the tension in her shoulders.

“Looks like you were fucking.” » Said Bianca laughing.

What no one knew was that Wednesday saw and heard everything. And she thought Y/n and Enid were flirting together. Anger surges through his veins. She clenches her fist and quickly heads to her dorm where she shares with Enid and Y/n. She goes back to her dorm and she does everything in her power not to kill Enid or Bianca or even Y/n. While pacing around the room, Wednesday sees Y/n's phone on her bed. The young goth had watched Y/n do her code once and she had held her back. She knew this information would come in handy one day.

Wednesday takes the phone and enters the code which is her date of birth. She goes to her girlfriend's messages and immediately finds Enid's name. Rocks form in his stomach.

Enid 🐺🌕❤️: I love you my dear

Y/n ❤️‍🔥🧜🏻‍♀️: I love you too my wolf

Enid 🐺🌕❤️: No you don't understand, I love you madly. I am so blessed to have met you.

Y/n ❤️‍🔥🧜🏻‍♀️: Stop it, you'll make me cry. And Wednesday is sleeping next door I don't want to wake her because you make me cry.

Wednesday closes the phone and throws it across the room. She's so angry you'd think smoke was coming out of her ears. Not only does she see her girlfriend flirting with Enid but they also exchange little words of love.

“Enid, I’m going to tear you into pieces and feed your flesh to the squirrels. » Wednesday serves her hands while injuring her hands from her nails digging into her skin.

" You're better? » Y/n sat back down in her place between Enid, Yoko and Divina.

“Yes thank you you were the best. » Enid smiles and kisses Y/n's cheek. “Oh no I put lipstick on your cheek. » Enid laughed softly. " Let me see. » Y/n searches in her pocket for her phone but can't find it. “Shit, I forgot my phone at the dorm. I will be back. »

Y/n gets up and heads inside the school to go back to her dorm.

When she comes home, she finds Wednesday standing between her bed and Wednesday's bed and looking out the window. His arms are crossed over his chest.

“Wednesday you haven’t seen my phone? »

“I threw it at the wall. » The young goth responds without emotion. Y/n frowns.

" All right? And why? » Y/n responds softly because she senses that her girlfriend is upset but she doesn't really know why and slowly walks towards Wednesday.

Wednesday quickly turns around and pushes Y/n onto the bed so she is sitting on the edge of the bed and Wednesday straddles her girlfriend's lap. The emotionless girl cups Y/n's jaw between her thumb and the rest of her fingers and squeezes.

“I saw your little interaction with Enid earlier and your messages between you and Enid. » Wednesday clenches her jaw and squeezes harder on Y/n's jaw. But then she notices the lipstick mark on Y/n's cheek and she immediately knows it's Enid's because of the pink color. Wednesday's irises turn even darker with anger and jealousy.

Wednesday forcefully pushes Y/n to lay her down and gets off of Y/n's lap.

" Take off your clothes. » Orders Wednesday, undressing too. Y/n immediately does as she is told and quickly undresses. Both women are now completely naked.

Wednesday climbs onto the bed and sits on top of Y/n between her thighs. “I’m going to remind you who you belong to. » Wednesday takes his hard cock and thrusts without warning into Y/n's dripping vagina. The young woman moaned in pain and pleasure at the same time.

Wednesday moves her hips with animal speed. “I'm going to remind you who can fuck you and put their lips on you. » Wednesday releases all her anger in her hip movement.

The young goth leans in and kisses Y/n. She sticks her tongue in her mouth and pushes it down Y/n’s throat who chokes her slightly.

" I'm near. » Y/n cries into Wednesday's mouth and clutches the sheets. Wednesday bites her girlfriend's bottom lip hard enough to draw some blood. She licks the blood and gets off of Y/n. The y/h/c girl moans and is sexually aroused and angry. “Get on all fours. » Y/n listens and gets on all fours. Wednesday feels even harder seeing Y/n's ass. She spanks her left buttock hard and Y/n moans in pain and excitement.

“You 'slap' is 'slap' to 'slap' me” Y/n moaned with each slap. Wednesday thrusts into Y/n’s vagina always without warning. She holds Y/n’s hips in place to help him enter her.

Y/n moaned loudly into the cushion. The young goth takes a handful of Y/n's hair and pulls it towards her so that Y/n's back is against her chest. Wednesday puts her hand on Y/n's throat and chokes her slightly as she continues to penetrate her.

“Tell me who you belong to.” » Wednesday whispers in Y/n's ear which sends shivers all over her body.

" Yours. I belong to you only. » The young mermaid said with difficulty with Wednesday's hand still on her throat.

“You’re right Cara Mia. You belong to me and only me. »

Wednesday pushes Y/n so that she is head on the cushions and butt in the air again. Y/n services Wednesday’s cock, a sign that she’s close. The girl with black braids moaned at the pressure on his penis.

“I’m going to cum.” » Y/n cries feeling close.

“Cum for me Cara Mia.” » Wednesday keeps her speed and rubs circles on Y/n's clit to help her cum.

Y/n screams and cramps her back while cumming on Wednesday's cock. The young goth moans and jerks off to cum in Y/n's pussy. The young y/h/c girl moaned as she felt the hot liquid invade the inside of her vagina. Y/n lays on her side with Wednesday lying behind her both tiredly.

“I didn’t hurt you Cara Mia?” » asks Wednesday, worried that she has hurt her girlfriend.

“Are you kidding, it was the best sex I’ve ever had. » Y/n smiled as she turned her head towards Wednesday.

“I love you so much Mio amore. » Wednesday kisses Y/n passionately. Their tongues dance together.

" I love you too my love. And don't forget that you are the only one on my mind. » Y/n replies, pulling away from the kiss and caressing Wednesday's cheek.

“Go get some sleep amore. » Wednesday kisses Y/n's cheek. The girl rolls her head over and falls asleep in her girlfriend's arms with Wednesday's cock still in her pussy.

The door opens slowly and Enid enters the dormitory. “It smells like sex in here. » Enid smirked seeing Wednesday's glare.

“From now on, I forbid you from touching or kissing Y/n’s cheek. »

“I can’t promise anything. » Enid laughed lightly without waking Y/n.

“If I see you flirting with Y/n again, I’ll destroy your stuffed animal collection and tell everyone that you and Ajax had sex in the school library.” » Wednesday responds without emotion.

“Okay, okay but I’m just telling you that Y/n is madly in love with you. So you don't have to worry. And I am madly in love with Ajax. But if you don't mind, I'm going to sleep in Yoko's dorm. I don't want to smell like sex all night long. » Enid hops and leaves the dormitory, closing the door gently.

Wednesday looks at Y/n and gently caresses her cheek.

“I’m madly in love with you too. » Wednesday whispers and she kisses Y/n's cheek lovingly. And she's sure she saw a smile and a blush on her girlfriend's face.

Y/n will be and remain the love of his life.

[ofsappho]

Heartless, Chapter 9

🔞 Simon “Ghost” Riley x reader 🔞

Fake marriage/marriage of convenience

-

Ghost makes it up to you with a dance. SMUT. Tags under the read more.

-

Sorry about the wait. Stuff has happened. Surgery. Really bad autoimmune flares. My back has been bad. I'm depressed. I haven't been doing well at all. Thanks for being patient. Smut tags: cowboy hat stays on, exhibitionism, public sex, heavy degradation/humiliation, minor bratting, squirting

Ghost POV

This place is a shithole. Ghost has spent time in a few shitholes, and your chosen pub ranks marginally better than that dingy karaoke bar in Sasebo where Roach caught food poisoning from bad sashimi.

And there you are.

In the middle of the fuckin’… wood-paneled floor, your shorts riding low and your shirt riding up.

Some American bloke sings about “country girl twerk,” whatever the hell that means, as you dance. Your cheeks are red, and you have one of the widest smiles he’s ever seen. Fuck phantom pain - phantom happiness coils in his stomach, seeing you so full of joy.

You stomp, scuff your boots on the floor, and keep one hand on your dinky hat so it doesn’t fall off. The hat looks squished and stained like it already has.

And your round, delicious, fat arse… you’re grinding and shaking and doing shit you should never do outside of your bedroom. His mouth goes dry as he watches the recoil. Goddammit. He’s only a man, with a man’s appetites. Your plush, full tits bounce in time-

Ghost tucks himself in a corner without a second thought, the drunk crowd flowing past him like he isn’t even there. It takes a second before he’s as composed and unflappable as always. You’re far too skilled at rattling him for your own good.

He’s so enamored by the show that he almost doesn’t notice the fuckers swarming you like wasps. Tipsy, ugly, bloated wasps, the worst specimens of the Londoner species.

Your little bitch fit isn’t worth the court-martial for murder. Although, he might consider it if that one man’s hand gets any closer to your arse.

Ghost sends them scurrying with nothing more than a look. Pathetic.

“What’s a girl like you doin’ in a place like this?” He murmurs, his hand reaching for your waist like you’re a magnet dragging him into your forcefield.

The glitter looks…

Ghost is bad at this. The ‘describing’ thing.

The little flecks of light dance across your face and surround your eyes like fireflies late at night.

Eyes that are currently glaring at him like you’re trying to set him on fire. “I’m not talking to you right now.”

He’s never seen anything more lovely in his life.

“Where’s the Colonel?” Ghost knows exactly where Alejandro is. When he walked in, he saw the other soldier carefully monitoring your situation from a table two meters away.

Awareness prickles down his spine, that extra sense that comes with fighting and (almost dying) with someone. That’s the sound of the Colonel’s stride.

“Behind you,” You grumble sullenly.

Ghost doesn’t flinch when Alejandro clears his throat. “Lieutenant.” Simon turns to meet Alejandro’s tanned, outstretched fist with his own gloved knuckles.

The colonel scrutinizes the visible parts of Simon’s face. It’s like a test.

At last, the colonel smiles and nods, and Alejandro’s tense shoulders fall into a more relaxed position.

That’s when Simon knows he passed. “I got it from here,” He murmurs.

The fuckin’… demented squirrel feeling with claws in his lungs starts to dissipate. You’re safe. You were safe this whole time. And the Colonel was gonna protect you from everything, even Ghost himself.

He should get the fucker a potted plant or some shit to thank him.

Alejandro tips his ridiculous straw hat. “Copy that. Good luck.” The other man melts back into the crowd, no doubt for one last drink before clearing the premises. Alejandro has no interest in witnessing what Ghost has planned.

Simon understands. He almost pities you.

There’s something shiny and slick on your lips. It distracts him when you pout. He wants to take your bottom lip between his teeth and leave marks. He wants to see if that gloss is flavored vanilla or peach. You wear peach-flavored lip balm sometimes - it drives Ghost mad.

“You weren’t answerin’ your phone. Why do you have it if you ain’t gonna use it?” He says roughly. Fuck. Your expression falls, and your cheeks flush red from anger and the alcohol he can smell on your breath. He’s messed up already.

You sway on your cute little boots, and he wants to reach out to steady you, but Ghost is afraid you’ll push him away. “Go fuck yourself,” You hiccup.

“You made me come all the way out here to find you.”

You scared me shitless. I missed you.

That hat finally slips from its perch as you tip your chin down in a sulk. “You didn’t have to. I was fine.” Simon catches it in his gloved hand on instinct. Obviously, you care about the damned thing.

Far more gently than he thought he could, he sets it back atop your head and then smooths a few stray strands of hair behind your ear.

-

Reader POV

It is so not fucking fair that Ghost gets to look so intimidating and handsome when you’re supposed to be mad at him.

And it’s also not fair that the simple act of giving you back your cowboy hat makes your teeth ache and sets drunk butterflies flapping in your stomach.

Everything is so hot. You’re covered in a fine layer of sweat from the dancing, and your husband watches a bead of it drip down your throat past your collarbone.

“Yeah? Three blokes grinding on you is ‘fine?’” When Ghost’s eyes glitter menacingly in the low light under his mask, your heart rate picks up, and your clothes feel too tight.

You gather up the hair stuck to the back of your neck without thinking, inadvertently flashing an even-more generous handful of cleavage.

“They were showing me a better time than you ever could,” You snap, one hand over your boobs to keep them from spilling out of your uncomfortable underwire bra entirely.

That was the wrong thing to say.

Ghost growls, shaking his head like an aggressive dog after a wounded bird. “Got half a mind to take their hands off for touchin’ you.” No, that was the right thing to say.

You like knowing you can make him jealous. “As delightful as that sounds, that isn’t an apology.” You can’t let him off that easily, though. Nope. Never.

“What do I have to apologize for?” He asks, looking away at some random mysterious dot on the floor.

The list is long. But first on the list, above all the other shit, is that he needs to apologize for making you want him to apologize. And for the large hand he’s wrapping around your wrist like a comforting weight anchoring your floaty, tipsy self.

You’re not supposed to lean into Ghost’s touch and long for him to draw you into his arms.

Falling into his orbit is as natural as breathing. “Ghost. You are the most insufferable, rude, miserable pig I have ever had the misfortune of knowing-“ You rant, your voice rising louder and louder over the music.

You never thought he’d be so horrible as to come here and feed you some bullshit, just to watch you pant and debase yourself for an apology that Ghost seems to have no intention of giving.

When you try to hit his chest, Ghost grabs both of your hands.

“‘M sorry,” Simon whispers so quietly that you almost doubt what you hear. The pink spotlights whirling across his mask make his eyes look painfully soft.

“…What?”

Ghost clears his throat. “For not dancing with you. For… for being so… rude. I- I shouldn’t have treated you that way. You deserve better.” His hands slide down your arms until they’re resting on your hips, tight enough to leave you with zero doubt about his intentions but not so tight that you can’t push him away.

And then it’s like he doesn’t need to take the mask off at all for you to see his expression. That’s how well you know the shadows of his face. You could map them in your sleep.

If your hands were free, you’d bring one up to his cheek to feel his remorse under your fingers. “Oh,” You murmur. You don’t feel drunk anymore. You’re stone-cold sober as you gaze into his eyes and find something sweeter than those lemon drop shots lurking in the darkness.

Ghost furtively glances around to ensure everyone else is too wasted to look twice before lifting your hand to his masked mouth.

The painted cloth is soft as it brushes your knuckles. “Would you… uh… may I- may I have this dance?” He asks, stumbling over the words a few times.

Fondness melts your anger faster than a snowflake would in midsummer, and it’s a better rush than any whiskey they sell in this place. It goes straight to your head and makes you grin from ear to ear. You tuck your hands into the collar of his jacket and pull him down because the couple of inches between your bodies feel like too far of a distance.

He’s here. He’s really here for you. “You’re not dressed appropriately,” You tell him, half-teasing, half-serious.

Ghost immediately shakes his head. “Limited time offer.” But he doesn’t pull away or grow stiff. His hands brush your waist, and then his gloved fingers slip between the waistband of your shorts and your sticky, heated skin.

“That’s not very nice,” You say with a coy smile. This close, you’re sure he can smell the peach-flavored lip gloss painting your mouth.

Ghost grumbles performatively for a second. “You are welcome to… do whatever the hell you want.” 

It comes to you in a flash of tipsy inspiration. “Here.” You let go of him long enough to pluck the hat from your head and settle it neatly atop his balaclava. “Looks better on you than it did on me, baby,” You murmur appreciatively.

Oh yeah. Fuck yeah.

Your mouth goes dry as you take in the view.

Ghost looks like this incredible tower of muscle and brawn and cowboy swagger that you want, no, need to climb all over. This man is straight out of a calendar of hot male models. You want him to do disgusting, explicit, horrible things to you in the alley outside. His skull balaclava is as menacing as always, and you feel drunk on its glory. The cheesiness of the hat ties everything together.

By God, does Ghost pull it off.

His gloved fingertips grind into your skin, deep enough to leave rapidly-fading red marks. You want more than that. You want bruises.

“Yeah?” Ghost asks, a little touch of amusement softening his gruff voice.

You want it so bad that your eyes flutter just thinking about it.

Your husband catches it and pulls you towards him until there isn’t any space left between you.

You melt into his chest, wrap your arms around his neck, and look at him through your eyelashes. “Mmhm. So cool. I can’t stay mad at you, not when you’re so,” You trail off, suddenly distracted by the slick dampness of your underwear and your nipples pebbling under your bra. “Pretty! Like a regular Clint Eastwood. You here to arrest me, cowboy?” You tease as you rock your hips toward his.

Then he’s palming your ass with a deep, muffled groan, squishing the flesh like a man obsessed, bouncing your cheeks in his hands.

His tight, possessive grip lights a fire in the bottom of your stomach. “You’re drunk, love,” He tells you as you coil around him and push your tits into his muscular chest.

Ghost is trying very, very hard not to look down your almost-nonexistent shirt. “No, I’m- I’m pleasantly tipsy.” Your mouth moves without you even realizing it. “You do look fine as fuck. God. You know I love those jeans.” Maybe you’re still a little drunk, but you’re not mad about it.

Ghost is totally blushing under the mask. 100%. His eyes dart to the side, and he clears his throat. He’s so cute when he’s flustered.

“We’re in public,” Ghost murmurs. That’s the least effective, least sincere protest you’ve heard in your whole life. At last, your husband miserably loses whatever internal prudish battle he was fighting and takes in your cleavage like he’s taking in a masterpiece.

“I’m not even joking when I say I would, like, crawl, like on my hands and knees to suck your dick right now. With the hat on. Please.”

You’re not like this. You’re never like this. But Ghost wants you. He came out here for you. And you need to show him exactly how much you appreciate it.

He coughs. “Woman.” He sounds so scandalized as if he hasn’t literally cut your clothes off your body and fucked you stupid before.

Ghost tilts his head so you can lift the edge of his mask and kiss his throat. “Pretty please. If you like me at all, you’ll let me? I’ll give you the best head of your life. I can’t believe I’m fucking begging a guy to let me blow him. God, look what marriage has done to me,” You whisper.

One of his hands reluctantly leaves your ass so it can tangle in your messy, sweat-soaked hair.

He tugs your head back. “Look at me,” Ghost hisses, his eyes a beautifully wound up pitch black. “Hey. Behave. Be a good girl.” Your scalp aches but fuck, does that feel amazing. Especially when he slides his knee between your thighs, mixing the pain with pleasure as he forces you to grind.

“Or what?” You gasp.

His other hand grips your chin. “Or I’m not going to let you suck my cock,” He tells you slowly, deliberately.

So blowing him is still on the table tonight.

Ghost tightens his grip bit by bit until your lips part.

“…Fine.”

He releases your hair to shove his mask down long enough to kiss you. There’s his teeth nipping your lips, his tongue insistent against yours, a shared, breathy, drawn-out moan echoing from your throat and his. “So bratty tonight,” Ghost whispers into your mouth. With one last kiss, he draws back.

The brim of his borrowed hat knocks into your face as he does, and you giggle as he straightens it.

For all you know, the rest of the world has gone to hell. Everything is Ghost and his warmth, filling up the cavern in your chest left by his earlier rejection.

The smile drops from your face. “You only care when I act up.” Is this going to be a habit? Do you have to throw tantrums, scream, and cry so he looks at you twice?

No. No. Your marriage won’t be like that. You’ve got years of experience watching your mother pant after your father’s approval, and she didn’t even love him. The thought of living it makes you sick.

Especially because-

Because one day you might love Ghost, and it would kill you to know he didn’t feel the same, yet could still command you like a dog. And out of that hypothetical, alleged, not currently existent love, you’d obey.

“That’s not true.”

You hope the tears welling in your eyes leave your fake lashes intact. “Is to. I just- I just want you to look at me like this all the time. I want you to care all the time. Is that too much to ask? And dance with me because it’s important and, fucking, I want you to take me out for coffee like normal people-“

“What kind of coffee?” Ghost stops your anxious, tear-filled ramble in its tracks.

Suddenly, pink lights silhouette him. They shine around his hat in a delicate, flushed halo, a shade you often see in fresh sunrises and beautiful sunsets.

There’s a sticky sweet center under his prickly exterior, like a mean cat once it gets used to you. And you might not be in love with him yet, but you love how sweet he can be.

When you were younger, you would empty every Halloween candy bowl into your bag while trick-or-treating. You learned how easily people could take things from you unless you were greedy and grasping, unless you dug your nails in so deep that it left marks.

You should do that to Ghost. But in a healthy way. “I like fancy lattes with long names and ridiculous price tags,” You say. “And foam hearts on the top.” You refuse to share his sweetness with anyone else. You’ll protect it - one day, Ghost will learn you’re trustworthy. Just like with Soap, you’ll protect Simon.

“Tomorrow, if you’re not too hungover… we’ll find somewhere with fancy coffee.” He starts rubbing at your cheek as he speaks. It takes you a second to realize that Ghost is picking at the specks of mascara left by the few tears that did fall. He navigates deftly around the glitter and touches you like you’re holy.

“And you’re gonna let me put your dick down your throat.”

His laugh is deep and throaty, a little rough from disuse but plenty warm.

The song playing switches to something slow and easy. A man croons in a low, smooth voice about a last night and the girl he’ll spend the rest of his life waiting for.

“First… we gotta dance.” Ghost takes you by the hand and pulls you toward the center of the dance floor.

-

Ghost POV

It takes every bit of Simon’s concentration to focus on you in his arms and the even pace of his breaths.

Inhale, exhale.

Your pretty eyes glow happily as you look up at him, flickering like opals in the low light.

The drunk on the corner isn’t reaching for a knife. He’s just finishing his drink.

This close, he can smell the coconut scent of your shampoo mixed with salty sweat and a deep, mouth-watering musk. Your hair is a mess of tangles, and the blush staining your cheeks is hibiscus pink.

You’re the most beautiful thing Ghost has seen in his whole life.

That red flicker in the corner of his eye isn’t a sniper dot. The raised voices are friends arguing over who’s paying the tab, not the specter of his father following Ghost even here.

His dad hated music. Fuckin’ hated it. He broke every radio they owned, smashed them into bits in various fits of rage. Once for playing music too loud, once for not being loud enough. And forget dancing. Forget flowers for Mum or family drives on Sunday, or any of the things fathers are meant to do.

Ghost should get you flowers. You’d like them. It would be the sort of gesture that would make you smile as you’re smiling now, like he’s your hero, like you think you’re the luckiest girl in the whole world.

He tugs you closer to knead the soft flesh of your hips and feel your body moving in perfect sync with his. Ghost isn’t half good at dancing, but you have enough grace for the both of them.

Back and forth. Back and forth. He counts the steps in his head.

“Look at me,” You whisper as you tighten your arms draped delicately around his neck.

He watches you sway, and the glitter on your cheeks sparkle with the movement. The flutter of your long, curled eyelashes makes him dizzy. He wants to take this mask off and kiss you, right here, right now, like a regular guy with a gorgeous woman on his arm.

Like in the movies - the ones with happy endings.

The air grows muggy with heat from the people moving and grinding on the floor. They talk, they grin, they take selfies. Nobody shies away from him in fear. He’s part of the crowd.

You rest your head on his shoulder. “It’s okay, baby. You’re doing great.” The kiss you press to his jacket goes straight through the fabric and into his bones, warming him like good bourbon.

Ghost feels bold enough to try twirling you. He worries he might be too uncoordinated or awkward, but you take the hint and effortlessly glide away and then back toward him. Your hair fans out behind you as you turn.

Beautiful.

“If you say so, love,” He murmurs.

-

Reader POV

This is a wonderful, amazing, and tender moment and everything…

But when Ghost adjusts his borrowed hat atop his mask, you’re a goner. He’s too busy being perfect and remarkably romantic to notice how you feel like you’re in fucking heat.

“C’mon, babe. I want another drink,” You drawl as you tug him off the dance floor.

You make a beeline for the friendly bartender, dragging your husband through the crowd like you’re parting the Red Sea. His hand tenses in yours, and you stop just long enough so Ghost can move in front of you, away from the people bumping into him.

The bartender winks once she spots you. “Hey sweetie, back already?” She asks as she waves away the bachelorette party trying to order from her.

Next to you, you feel Ghost stiffen and place his hand on the small of your back.

You lean forward so she can see down your shirt and keep one eye on Ghost’s mask the whole time. “Oh, you know me. I can’t stay away from your gorgeous eyeliner and excellent drinks,” You say with a coy smile just bordering on flirtatious.

His hand slowly makes its way up your spine, stopping to snap the elastic band of your bra against your skin to get you to quit it.

“It’s my pleasure. What can I get you, sugar?”

Ugh, that’s so immature of him. “What do you recommend?” You ask before sticking your tongue out at Ghost and crushing his toes under your boot heel.

He responds by resting his hand on the base of your neck where even the bartender can’t miss it.

As the bartender thinks, she taps a manicured nail against her lip gloss. “Pretty girls should have pretty drinks. Isn’t that right, Mr…”

Ghost squeezes your neck slightly - a gentle reminder of who you belong to. “Her husband,” He says curtly.

The bartender makes a show out of raising her eyebrow and looking at your ring finger. “Oh, I didn’t know you were married. What a shame. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. ‘Her Husband.’” She’s not even looking at him when she speaks. She’s only got eyes for you.

Being admired by anybody feels good. It feels even better to know that Ghost stews in silence as you preen. You wonder how far you can take the bit before his self-control snaps and he drags you out of here.

A shiver of pleasure goes through you at the thought.

Ghost exhales through his nose. “Put her tab on that,” He orders as he tosses a credit card on the bar.

She pulls out a chilled shot glass and a variety of colorful liquor bottles. You recognize Kahlúa and Bailey’s, and there’s some sort of vodka. Amaretto might be the fourth mysterious liquor.

“The other fellow with the other hat has her tab covered. But I can definitely put this drink on your card,” She says as she layers the liquors one after the other with a bar spoon to keep them from mixing.

Then she swipes Ghost’s card at her register thingy before handing it back, along with a crisply-layered shot. “There you go. A Screaming Orgasm for the lady. Receipt?” Her smile is as alluring as it is gloating.

He shoves his card back into his wallet like he’s loading a gun, each movement tense with fury.

You feel him forcefully wrap his arm around your waist and pull you into him. “G-Ghost, what’s wrong?” You ask, pretending like you don’t damn well know what’s wrong.

Ghost boxes you in with his legs on either side of yours and both arms around your waist. “Drink that. Now,” He mutters as he rests his chin on your head.

The bartender has made herself scarce by now. That was a good choice on her part.

His grip tightens until the rough material of his gloves bites into your sides. You take your time with the shot, stopping to tap the bottom of the glass on the bar before throwing it back.

The literal second after you put the glass down, Ghost hoists you away from the bar and the bartender trying to steal you away. “We’re going. Come on.” He puts you down only when he can intercept any attempts to return to the bar for more torment.

His rough treatment melts away momentarily when someone almost bumps into you. Ghost’s reflexes kick in and hold you back half a second before the drunk man stumbles, and then he sweeps you past the dude before you realize what’s happening.

You stumble out into the brisk night air. The London light pollution has chased away the stars, leaving a flat, dull black sky behind.

“Where are you-“ Ghost interrupts you by shoving you back towards the brick covering the outside wall of the pub. Your head spins, the inside of your mouth tastes like sugar and alcohol, and your knees grow weak from Ghost’s casual display of strength.

And then he practically tears the fabric of his mask away from his mouth so he can fucking ravage you.

He kisses you repeatedly, one hand fisting in your hair and the other clamped around your hip, helping him grind his dick against your clothed cunt.

Ghost groans with pleasure when he tastes the sweetness from the shot, and you sink your teeth into his lip to extend that beautiful, desperate sound.

Here, pinned between the wall and his broad, muscled torso, you’re absolutely, utterly helpless. You squirm and plead in small, whining noises, your combined saliva drips out of your mouth, and your tongue loses the battle for dominance against Ghost’s tongue.

Just when your eyes start to roll back and your muscles slacken, he moves away. “You want it that badly, eh? You little slut?” He kisses messily across your cheek, then down your throat.

You tug at his shoulders, trying to force him closer, and you can feel your arousal leaking through your shorts. “Yeah, I’ll give you a fuckin’ screaming orgasm,” Ghost swears into your sweat-soaked skin before biting down hard.

You tremble and shake, he bites harder, the pain goes straight to your hard, aroused nipples and the fire burning low in your belly.

“Yeah?” You moan with your head thrown back and eyes shut.

As people leave the bar, Ghost shoves his thigh between your legs, so you have something to rock your aching clit against, then clamps his hand over your mouth when you cry out in pleasure.

“I can’t fuckin’ believe you’re into this. There’s something wrong with you,” He hisses cruelly in your ear.

You moan louder with your tongue out as your hands untie your top at record speed. Your clothes are too tight, unbearably clinging to your skin, and you need them off right now. You work on the fly of your shorts next, hastily unbuttoning them so you’re almost completely exposed.

Ghost shakes his head in disapproval and slides the hand covering your mouth down until it encircles your neck. He tightens his grip, carefully cutting off your blood flow and forcing you into that peaceful, floaty place where you’d beg him to do whatever he wanted.

You let out a low, choked gasp, drool already beading at the corner of your kiss-swollen lips. “Aw, you going dumb already? I just gotta put my hand around your pretty throat, and you’re moaning like a whore?” Not content with being the only one undressed, you scrabble for his belt and unbuckle it with single-minded determination.

“Think the whole block can hear you yet?” Then Ghost kisses your temple sweetly in sharp contrast to his low, ice-cold tone.

He makes no moves to stop you from clawing at his jeans. If anything, he eagerly thrusts his hard-on into your palm as soon as the only barrier between you is his boxers.

You feel him, heavy and thick and warm through the cloth, and smile like a cat who’s got the cream. “You love it, Ghost. Admit it. You fucking love this. I can feel how fucking hard you are, yeah? Is that for me?” You retort, wrapping your hand around his dick and pumping it a few times for good measure.

In the dark of night, you can barely make out his clenched teeth and eyes shut tight as he fucks your hand. “It is, love. It’s all yours. Now are you gonna be a good girl and suck my cock?” Ghost purrs, grabbing your face by your jaw and forcing you to look straight at him.

“I thought you’d never ask.” You sink to your knees eagerly, ignoring the gravel biting into your bare legs.

But just when you move to pull his underwear down, Ghost stops you with his hands manacled around your wrists.

“Hey, now hold on,” He chides.

Your brain fucking short circuits. His dick is right there. In your face. So close. Saliva gathers on the back of your tongue. Why is he fucking gatekeeping you? Do you have to beg?

You see a mean light shine in his dark eyes when you look up. Oh yeah, he wants you to beg. His hand slides into your hair, then pulls your head back until your mouth hangs open.

Someone laughs in the background. Footsteps crunch over gravel.

London will watch you beg on your knees for your husband’s dick.

Yeah, you’re game.

You pout your lips. “What? Why? Please? Please? I know you want me to. I can be so good to you,” You beg, your eyes round and dewy with want.

Ghost tsks. “Yeah? But you’ve been so bad, love. You’re acting like a common slut, pawing at me in public. Right here, where everyone can see? Are you sure you deserve it?” His thumb slips between your lips, and you give it the treatment you’re trying to show him; sucking, licking, your eyes fluttering, loud, explicit, over-the-top moans.

“Please. I- I literally, I am desperate. I am begging. I want- let them know, let them see, just- I-“

Ghost takes his thumb back with a satisfied smirk. “Look at you, can’t even make a full sentence. What a stupid, dumb, adorable little princess. Go on.” Then he shoves his boxers down, revealing an angry, mean, painfully-stiff erection, the mushroom tip red and beaded with precum.

You need no further instruction.

You viciously spit into your palm and then draw his shaft into your mouth.

In your first attempt, you get a little less than half of Ghost’s thick cock down your throat. Then you pull off to take a deep breath, your eyes watering from the unexpected intrusion.

Before Ghost can do something annoying like ask if you’re okay, you take him in your mouth once more and bob up and down.

He grows harder with each stroke of your wet, sloppy mouth, you can fucking feel him twitch and strain against your cheeks. Ghost’s hand tightens painfully in your hair, and you hear him gasp and groan when you use your tongue on the sensitive underside of his bulbous tip.

Ghost gazes down at you as if you’re the answer to his prayers, like he believes that he’s the one who should be on his knees. “That’s it, there’s my bitch. Your mouth looks so good sucking my cock, love.”

Your senses fill with the musky, salty taste of him running down your throat with the excess spit and dribbling down your wrist as your hand works the part of his length you can’t swallow completely.

“Fuck. Your mouth- fuck…” Ghost curses, unable to control his hips rolling against your face, pushing himself deeper and deeper in.

You look at him through your lashes and hollow out your cheeks, sucking long and slow.

Under the eye black, his face is flushed red from arousal, and sweat gathers in the hairline you neatened up. “Ahhh, shit, c’mon, you can do it. Take all of it. Attagirl.” You’re trying, really. You’re doing your absolute best.

When the tip of his dick hits the back of your throat, your eyes roll back, and you cry out. Your gasp makes your throat muscles quiver and vibrate around him.

Your jaw aches, and all you taste, smell, and feel is Ghost cracking your mouth open, Ghost fucking your throat, Ghost tearing away your thoughts and your air and replacing it with him.

He growls, spitting out curses like he hates your guts, his grip on your hair trembles. “Is it too much for you, princess? Are you crying? Fucking dumb whore, crying like you weren’t begging me for it. Goddammit, you’re so fucking good at this.” The praise fucking melts you into a malleable pile of mush. You love it. You’re his princess, his whore, and now, everyone knows.

Everyone is watching. You need to be good for him, you want to be perfect.

Your throat muscles relax, allowing him to slip in another inch further.

You gag and retch around his thick, swollen cock. “Christ. Yes, fuck, keep going,” Ghost pants. He’s breathing fast through his nose as if he’s beating someone into the ground. “You are so- fucking- gorgeous when you choke. Do it again.” His command bounces around in your empty, cock-drunk mind and, after a couple of seconds, fully registers.

Just when you pull your fist away and try to touch your nose to the wiry hair above his dick, Ghost forces your mouth open just that tiny bit wider and slips- all the way in.

Your eyes widen with panic, and your hands try to push him back, but Ghost tugs harder on your hair until the sting reminds you who you belong to.

He’ll let you breathe when he wants you to, you just have to trust him. You’re just a warm, wet hole for him to ruin. “No, no, no. Don’t try to run- shit- run away,” Ghost warns as he fucks your throat with a messy, uncoordinated rhythm that picks up. His thick, salty precum gathers in a pool on the back of your tongue, and you gulp it down greedily.

Your tears fall in earnest. They blot out your vision until all you can see is the silhouette of his hat, dark against the dim street lamp.

You brace yourself on his thighs to stay upright.

“It’s yours. All yours. Take it. Take- me-“ His moans are almost as loud as the sound of his cock sliding between your lips, wet and slick, combined with your wordless begging for air, for more, for his cum.

Come in my mouth, you pray deliriously, practically insane with need. You can’t keep up with the pace Ghost sets and struggle weakly to move your head in time. You’re helpless in his capable, dominating hands.

His swollen cock twitches, and he shudders.

He’s going to come soon. Is Ghost also picturing his sticky, salty cum in your mouth and on your cheeks, and how you would look flashing him your messy tongue before swallowing it? He’s practically biting through his bottom lip with how badly he wants that. Your aching, leaky cunt clenches in time with your racing heartbeat.

Ghost shoves your mouth back on his dick one last time. “No,” He tells you as he pulls out.

Wh- what?

You’re stunned into silence. He was fucking your face, but then he stopped but… but why?

You sit there and look at him without a thought behind your hazy, languid eyes.

As bits and pieces come back to you, your brow furrows. “But I want it,” You whimper in the most pathetic, hoarse little voice.

Without realizing it, your slick hands drift back up towards his erection, which hasn’t softened one bit.

Ghost merely shakes his head, entirely unmoved by your pleas. “You ran off without saying a word. You don't deserve for me to come in your mouth. Get up.” His voice is ice-cold. Underneath it, you hear how worried Ghost was. How you frustrated him, how he missed you.

A rush of shame goes through you, dousing some of the burning under your skin. How could you do that to him?

When you don’t move, Ghost reaches down and hoists you up by your elbows with a huff. “Off the ground. Up,” He barks. He still hasn’t taken the gloves off. You can feel a couple of strands of your hair caught in the Velcro wrist buckles.

Ghost efficiently strips you out of your soaked shorts and ruined, filthy panties. You stare blankly at him, so aroused and on the edge that your brain and vocal cords can’t put a complete sentence together.

He pats one of your gravel-bruised knees, then the other. You lift your feet accordingly until you’re naked from the waist down, other than the cowboy boots.

Without the cloth to hold it back, the slick dripping from your bare folds makes a shining trail down the inside of your thigh.

When Ghost pushes you up against the wall and hooks his arms under your knees, holding your plush thighs open and ready for him, you comply in a daze, hardly able to put two words together.

Your back arches as his teeth catch in your throat, alternating between bright pain and his tongue lapping at your skin, soothing away the sting.

Then Ghost gets one of his arms under your ass, carrying your entire weight with ease. “Can’t do that to me again, doll. I almost lost you so you could fuck around with some random blokes at the pub? Nah. I think you need a reminder of who you belong to.” With his free hand, he shoves your bra aside to take one of your swollen nipples into his greedy mouth.

The man fucking feasts on you, growling into your sensitive tits, sucking red hickies everywhere, and insatiably tonguing your nipple. “Ahhhh-“ You moan with your head thrown back and your nails clawing at his hoodie, trying and failing to mark up his back.

Each suck and lick and kiss goes straight to your clit, aching in the cold night air; tension builds in the base of your spine, and you can’t think, can’t hear, or see.

Once he gets his thumb on your clit, rubbing tight, furious circles, your eyes shoot open. “Good girl. Dumb baby,” Ghost taunts as you struggle and writhe, you bite down on your lips to hide your shrieks, and your arousal soaks his glove.

At first, you think he will warm you up, take those messy gloves off and stretch you out on a few thick fingers, but he doesn’t. “‘M gonna fuck you so good that you forget about them. You are going to be a dumb- speechless- brainless fucking mess once I’m through.” He grabs his hard, fat cock, hoists you up a little higher, and rubs the head against your folds.

Your cunt flexes, keeping him from sinking inside you as if your body instinctively knows it’s too much.

He huffs out a frustrated laugh and then lifts you onto his cock despite your protests. “No- Ghost, please, you’re too big. You won’t fit, you’re ruining me…” You sob, helpless, as he slowly feeds his dick into your hungry, needy pussy. Your eyes roll back, and you almost bang your head on the wall.

Gravity- gravity is not your fucking friend right now.

In this position, your body weight forces you down onto his shaft, and every inch feels like it goes on forever. Slowly, Ghost begins to rock his hips back and forth, molding your cunt around him.

Your thighs quiver as you cry out. Your juices drip down the base of his dick that he hasn’t managed to shove into you yet, covering him in slick.

“Aw, it’s okay, doll. Don’t worry. Shhhhh. Relax. You’re okay,” He reassures, his voice steady despite his fingers clutching your legs hard enough to bruise.

Then Ghost does something. He stops holding back and forces your thighs back a little more until he’s almost folded you in half.

When the tip of his cock thrusts into that sensitive spot deep inside your pussy, your eyes cross, and you jolt, strung out, absolutely fucking gone. “Fuckkkk-“ You pant, pleasure tightening in your tummy. Your hands tug on his face until he leans down to kiss you, his tongue slipping between your lips.

In a single smooth motion, Ghost slides home. “Oh shit. Shit. Your poor cunt, you’re so sensitive. I can feel you- clenching- and twitching every time I-“ He cuts himself off with a moan, his heavy balls brushing your ass every time he gently grinds into you.

Your limbs seize and twitch, tingles echoing and building through each muscle.

Overwhelmed, blissed-out whimpers flow from you as he fucks you deeper, faster. “Ghost, Ghost, fuck, you’re stretching me open, I can’t take it-“ You beg, practically feeling his dick in your guts.

His pupils blow out, he has a look in his eyes like a predator subduing prey, and you’re more than a little frightened. Ghost towers over you, and you’re completely at his mercy. He could do anything he wants to you.

He is doing what he wants to you, precisely as you need from him.

Your mind shuts off once you realize it, and you sink into a thrilling, primal, feral state of being a bunch of nerves and trembling flesh for him to use and torment. Ghost pins you in place with so much giving, loving, possessive adoration that it makes your teeth ache.

He gasps when your stretched core flutters around him, sucking his cock in as if your muscles are trying to trap him in your body.  “Poor doll, look at you. You can’t take it? You can’t take it?” Ghost mocks your whining while focusing the rest of his attention on fucking your brains out.

“Fuck, fuck, right there, yes,” You wail as your sloppy cunt drenches the front of his jeans.

He hoists you higher in his arms so he can nail your g-spot. “Feels good?” This is how you’ll die; pleas and curses dripping from your lips along with strings of saliva, sweat coating your skin, and webs of ecstasy threading through you like lightning.

You want to feel like this forever; it’s purer than any high and so good that your nerves short out.  “Yes, yes, please. More- I need more…” Your plump tits bounce and jiggle from the force of Ghost rutting into you.

Seeing your red cheeks and mouth hanging open and your breasts heaving drives him insane with desire. Somehow, his cock pounds you deeper, even harder, and he finds a way to grind his jeans against your puffy, swollen clit.

Ghost gently presses his lips to yours, a complete mockery of the wreck he’s making of you. For a long moment, it’s just the two of you, breathing the same air, and the slick squelches of your fluttering, sopping-wet folds as he buries his veiny cock balls-deep.

You’re pretty sure your thighs have small cuts from the rough edges of his gloves, and your neck hurts from the manhandling, but you’re too busy focusing on each breath as everything around you goes fuzzy to care.

Ghost tells you something, his tone low and commanding. It’s his fault you can’t answer - if he wasn’t ruining you for anyone else, thrusting into you with a brutal, punishing pace that’s too much for your sore pussy to keep up with, you might have been able to respond.

Each time he bullies his cock inside, you almost feel like you’re coming. The pleasure is a knife laying you bare before him, and you trust him, you need him, and you want him to destroy you and put you back together. “Who’s fucking you? Use that smart- damn it- mouth.” Ghost slows down, switching to a deeper, gentler rhythm, just enough to clear the fogginess clouding your senses.

Your pussy weeps around him, constricting and spasming as he drives you closer and closer to the edge.

“Ghost,” You wail, strung out, your cheeks bright red and your forehead damp with sweat.

Your husband kisses it away, then peppers your cheeks with little pecks. “Who’s making you feel good?” He presses you back into the wall, covering your almost-naked, debauched body with his own.

When your hands seek out the edge of his balaclava, Ghost tips his head so you can get under it and claw the shit out of his neck.

The sight of the hat, still somehow on his head, makes you clench even tighter. He’s just so fucking hot and beautiful, and oh fuck, Ghost is fucking massaging your cunt with his cock while kissing your breath away.

“Ahhh- you- you are, shit.” It’s all him, his dark eyes, and his pale skin flushed with exertion. You flail in his arms, trying to somehow ride his dick while being held aloft.

His voice rumbles in your ear as he growls, his breaths labored as he nears his own orgasm. “Rub your clit, doll. Go on. Make yourself come. Good girl, my perfect, perfect girl,” Ghost encourages you before speeding up again, unceasingly notching the fat tip of his dick against your g-spot, basically helping you use him to get off.

Reluctantly, you remove one of your hands from where your nails are carving bloody furrows into his skin to slip between your arousal and precum-soaked bodies.

It’s like a fucking slip ‘n slide down there, your combined juices trickling into your puckered asshole and all over his balls.

The moment you shakily press the pads of your fingers against your clit, your spine jolts and bows as euphoria rushes through you.

It feels like you’re desperately clinging to the edge of a cliff, trying to maintain sanity and presence of mind, but your oncoming orgasm burns in your veins, the pleasure crawling up the back of your throat and constricting your lungs.

“You’re so fucking beautiful when you take my dick.” Ghost sounds like a man unhinged, in total awe. You keep circling your hypersensitive clit, giving up words in favor of animalistic, high-pitched noises and wails.

The brim of the cowboy hat bumps into your cheek when he buries his face into your neck, biting and sucking hickies in time with his deep, shuddering thrusts.

You squirm, bouncing your hips on his dick, and your wrist cramps. “You close, love? I can feel it.” Tears stream down your cheeks, and drool sticks at the corner of your mouth. “I can feel you clenching around me. Do it. That’s it. Come for me.” You feel Ghost’s eyelashes wisping over the skin of your throat.

That’s it. That’s all it takes.

You come screaming at the top of your lungs to the stars, the night sky, and anyone listening.

Your cunt gushes and gushes as you tremble in Ghost’s arms, making a fucking mess with your come, your muscles milk his dick, rippling, squeezing, and pulsing with the waves of bliss drowning you.

Your nails rip little holes into his mask. Ghost fucks you through it, of course, dragging it out even while your eyes shut because it’s too much. “Fuck fuck fuck Ghost! Aaa- fuuuuck.” It doesn’t subside or die away; your orgasm grows stronger, shaking you like a fucking earthquake, your hips jerk uncontrollably, and you pull your fingers away from your swollen, tender clit, too sensitive to keep going.

You choke and sputter as your mind goes blissfully, perfectly blank. Electricity blooms in your veins, lighting up your guts like the fireworks on the Fourth of July.

You try to catch your breath, but the shocks won’t let up. Fresh wetness coats your thighs when you squirt again, this time weakly.

It’s supposed to end. Why isn’t it ending?

Ghost is laughing at you. It’s not a mean laugh. It’s frenzied, he’s on the brink of shattering. “That’s fucking right. One more. You have one more in you.” He’s so close to coming, but he needs that extra push.

His cock stiffens inside you, and you swear you can feel every prominent vein against your pulsing walls. “Say- hngh- ‘please,’” You moan, a determined, devious look on your fucked-out face. You give as good as you get, and fuck; if Ghost is going to drag this out, you’ll make him work for it.

A cold midnight breeze picks up, sweeping cool air across your heated skin and taking with it the scent of sex and sweat.

He messily kisses your cheek, sweeping his tongue along your tears. “Please? You want me to beg? Please come for me again. Pretty please.” You love the moments before Ghost comes because he always tears away the mask and the bullshit for you, like he finds something worth honesty in the depths of your body. “Need you to come again. Need it so bad.” 

Well, how can you resist when he asks so nicely?

You come softly, gently. As your eyes roll back, you gasp, and your swollen, overstimulated core shivers. The sensation ripples and shakes you, then slowly dissipates, leaving behind nothing but clean, pure pleasure, like taking a shot of vodka and sinking into the resulting mindless stupor. Your senses are too overwhelmed for anything bigger.

Ghost comes with you. He hides his long, low moan in his forearm as he grinds into your depths, filling you up with pulses of come only to fuck it back inside. The white spend that doesn’t fit inside your swollen, stuffed folds joins the droplets of squirt blanketing your inner thighs. His spine goes slack, and he almost stumbles backward, drunk on the pleasure of finally coming.

Ghost rights himself before he tips over, reluctantly removing one arm from your hips to brace it on the wall.

Before you know it, he’s placed you back on your weak, shaky legs, completely ignoring his own state of undress to tend to you.

He gets your underwear and shorts back on without letting go of you once. Ghost is rock-solid, taking on all your weight and holding you upright without faltering or asking anything of you. Once you’re covered, he even ties your shirt back together. Ghost is a regular Boy Scout with knots, and he accomplishes it better than you did in the first place. Now, he tucks himself into his boxers and zips up his jeans.

It takes a couple of seconds for you to realize that the thing he’s doing with his arms around your waist is checking your back and seeing if you’re in pain. “Stop it. I’m fine. I highly enjoyed myself,” You scold languidly, a soft, exhausted smile on your face. You are in pain, unfortunately.

Most of the time, you can just tune it out. The pain simmers under the surface as a dull ache promising future consequences. But it’s not anything Ghost needs to worry about right now.

You make this trade-off constantly. A night out at a club for a few days in bed, going to the beach and needing to use a cane the next day. What can you say? It’s worth it. You’ll end up bed bound permanently one day, whether you have fun or not.

Ghost raises an eyebrow, making it plain what he thinks about your statement. “Mm.”

Tonight turned out to be such a lovely night. You don’t want to sour it again with talk about your back.

You wrap your arms around his neck, successfully distracting him and dragging him down for a kiss at the same time. “Thank you for dancing with me. It- um… it meant a lot,” You whisper against his mouth shyly, as if he wasn’t dicking you down in public not five minutes earlier.

When you release him, you gaze at the ground, hoping to hide from Ghost’s knowing look.

“You’re never getting this hat back,” Ghost quips, taking a different tactic instead of calling you out. Then he peels a glove off to nudge your face towards him with his fingers curling under your chin. “I was happy to do it.”

-

Tagging (please let me know if you want off the list by shooting me a message):

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[twst-kumi]

Weeping Maiden

Warning: Mention of child abuse (mental and physical)

[ACT I]: CHAPTER 2

[Name] sat in a daze and slight horror.  She shouldn't have asked about Vil.  Mercury patted her shoulder with pity; he knew how it felt to be stuck with Neige and his collection about Vil. He was a fan, but maybe he was a little overboard. 

“_Don’t worry, little lady. It's a one-time thing. Hopefully…

_I regret everything…” 

The purple-haired boy laughed, feeling sorry for her. It wasn't her fault. She didn't know he was like that. Neige babbled on and on about Vil and how wonderful he was. Vil was great and talented as a child actor and in his actual career. 

“_He looks incredible in every role he plays. That's why I decided to give my shot in the film industry. I wanted to play with Vil-senpai, but… 

_But?” 

Neige laughed a little sad. He lowered his eyes and played with his hand. 

“_I don't think he is fond of me. He always looks uncomfortable around me. I think he found me annoying.” 

[Name] couldn't help but feel familiar with his words. It was kind of similar for her and her brother. Even more so when she was young. One time, she won first place in a pageant contest. She ran up to him to show him her little crowns, only for him to shove her away. She can't deny the 3-year-old girl was hurt by his aversion then. But growing up, she now understood it. Even so, she guessed she was still hurt by it.

Neige smiled at her before thanking her for her kind words. The group continued talking until it was time for them to return to their dorm. The young girl bid them goodnight before walking down the main road. She looked surprised when she saw Aurelius waiting for her. The young boy fell asleep on the bench. [Name] could even see a squirrel nestled inside his shirt. 

She couldn’t help but laugh a little. He was so adorable and peaceful. 

“_Aurelius… What are you doing here?”

She shook him gently as he groaned softly before blinking at her. He gave her a dreamy smile before rubbing his eyes. 

“_I was waiting for you but fell asleep while waiting. 

_You didn't have to, you know? 

_And letting my princess return home alone? Never…”

He chuckled before taking her hand in his soft one. He was humming a song as he seemed caught in his daydreaming. His sleepy eyes never left her. 

***

It has been days since Yuu was in this state. He looked depressed and tired. Everyone could see his alarming lack of energy. The most worried was the Adeuce duo and Grim. Yuu rarely slept as he was riddled with nightmares. That locket was his only support all this time, and now everyone was noticing some mental problem on his part. 

Of course, all those overblots were bound to leave some unwanted trauma on the magicless prefect. But those who stayed in Ramshackle were able to see the extent of his trauma. 

It was one of those nights Pomefiore was the one who decided to look after Yuu this time. The dorm leaders agreed to do it one by one. Having gone to bed early, Vil was awakened by a loud sound.  He walked to Yuu’s bedroom and found the boy crouched down. He looked in pain while Grim tried to shake him. 

“_What happened?? Yuu, are you alright? 

_I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…

_Yuu!! Hey, wake up!”

Yuu looked up in a panic; his chest heaved up and down as his eyes darted around. He slowly calmed down while Vil carefully wiped the sweat off his forehead. 

“_Sorry, did I wake you up? I didn’t mean to ruin your beauty sleep. 

_ I’m more worried about you than angry. Was that necklace so important?”

Yuu blinked at the young actor in front of him before leaning against the bed. He pondered if he should talk about it. 

“_It was a gift from my little sister. Our parents didn’t know what unconditional love was…”

He chuckled bitterly while reminiscing about his old world. 

“_ And I was a bad brother, the worst we could have.

_That’s not true.

_No, I was. No brother wishes for their newborn sibling’s suffering. I… When she was born, I was happy that I would not be alone in suffering from our parent’s cruelty. But when she was born, the opposite happened. She was such a pretty baby, and our mom loved how much attention she was gathering. At that time, I was jealous of her and did something terrible. 

_What did you do? “

Yuu couldn’t help but shake. 

“_I pushed her down the stairs. She was 5, and although every attention was on her, she always tried to get close to me. I… It pissed me off. I was always the wicked child, while she was the perfect child. Loved by everyone, always good, and always kind. A living doll. She was my mother's ideal doll. No one knew what we were enduring, and I thought she had everything. So when she ran up to me with that bright smile and that gold tiara she won in some kid’s contest, I angrily pushed her away. I shoved her down the stairs. She almost broke her neck, and I was beaten up and locked up until she got back home. Do you know what she did when she came back? She ran up to me and hugged me. She never once stopped smiling at me.”

Vil shivered as he saw the sickened smile on his face.  Yuu chuckled as he held himself. 

“_ She was the only one to have given me that unconditional love our parents lacked. Since that day, we have been together. I mean, had since I’m here now. It has been almost a year now… I wonder how she is doing now?”

Vil stayed silent partly because of how unhinged Yuu was right now. He looked at him, laughing before slowly falling back to slumber. The actor sighed, cursing himself for his soon lack of sleep.

< previous next >

[clangenrising]

Month 10 - Leafbare

Branchbark was sure that he was being punished. Russetfrond had sent him out hunting with Yarrowshade of all cats at least five times since he’d been made deputy. He had been assured that it was simply a logistical decision, but the situation felt too uncomfortable to be pure coincidence. On the other paw, Russetfrond wasn’t exactly fond of Yarrowshade so the choice might have had more to do with Yarrowshade than it did with him. 

Yarrowshade, for his part, had been taking it well, it seemed. If Branchbark hadn’t known any better, he might not have guessed that Yarrowshade was grieving at all. As they roved the territory looking for prey, he smiled and laughed and answered all of Barleypaw’s questions in a bright and playful manner. Branchbark wasn’t sure, but that didn’t feel exactly… healthy. 

“Great catch, kid!” Yarrowshade purred as Barleypaw returned with a sparrow hanging from her jaws. “You’re getting really good at that.” 

“Fanks,” she beamed, tail swishing idly. Yarrowshade began to dig a hole in the remnants of snow to cache the bird in and Branchbark’s vision fogged as he watched the motion. 

He had helped lay Nightfrost to rest that night. Beside Songdust and Pantherhaze, he had carved a hole in the cold hard earth down hill from the camp where the rosemary grew in the spring and countless Clanmates had been buried. The entire time, his throat had been thickly choked with guilt. If he had been faster, if he had gone out sooner or braved the snow storm the day before, if he had been smarter about which patches he checked-- Despite the futility of it, his mind raced to find something he could have done to avert the tragedy. 

He found himself going through the same list of ‘what if’s now, only getting pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of Yarrowshade’s voice. 

“Branchbark…? Hello?” 

He snapped to attention and smiled out of habit. “Yes? I’m here!” 

“Oh, that’s a relief,” Yarrowshade chuckled. “For a second I was like ‘where did he go?!’” He made a show of scanning the area as if Branchbark had disappeared and Barleypaw laughed in the most adorable manner. Branchbark blushed but was happy to play along with the joke for her sake. 

Still, it was weird to see Yarrowshade being so goofy already. Wasn’t he hurting? He realized suddenly that Yarrowshade had been talking again and he had no idea what had been said. 

Barleypaw was nodding. “I wanna see if there are any cardinals around! I’ve lost some of my feathers and I need new ones so I can stay brave.” 

“Good idea,” Yarrowshade said. “Lead the way, Barley-girl! I’m right behind you.” Barleypaw nodded and bounded off through the snow. Yarrowshade followed close behind but Branchbark trailed them more slowly. He just couldn’t seem to focus today. 

Yarrowshade caught a few rodents and Barleypaw caught another sparrow but Branchbark fumbled the squirrel he had spotted. Yarrowshade had laughed it off and told him it was fine but he knew it wasn’t. It wasn’t fine. He could have been smarter, faster, better. He could have found the horsetail in time. He could have- 

A flicker of movement caught his attention and pulled him from his thoughts with a jerk. 

Yarrowshade was crouched next to Barleypaw, both of them intently watching a bright red cardinal that was fluttering its wings and searching for seeds among the frost-firm grass. Yarrowshade was the perfect mentor, correcting her posture and whispering words of encouragement, but that wasn’t what drew Branchbark’s eye. A large, russet shape in the grass shifted, two black tipped ears alert and forward, beady yellow eyes fixed tightly on the two oblivious cats hunting a few meters away. 

Branchbark was running before he realized. A loud warning hiss tore from his throat as he launched himself towards the fox, and it wheeled to face him fur puffing up in fright. It opened its mouth and let out a warbling scream and Branchbark arched his back and growled in response. 

“Stay here,” he heard Yarrowshade tell Barleypaw. Then, the older tom carefully stalked up to flank the fox with Branchbark. 

The fox seemed young, probably born that spring if he had to guess, and it was thin beneath its winter coat. If they were lucky, the fox would decide they weren’t worth the energy to fight and leave instead. Branchbark hissed again, edging closer, and Yarrowshade hopped forward with a few swipes of his claws. The fox screamed again, skittering backward, then lunged at Yarrowshade, jaws snapping. 

Branchbark’s heart skipped a beat - he couldn’t let anything else happen to Yarrowshade on his watch. Hissing he leapt forward to bat at the fox’s face. 

“Wait!” Yarrowshade yelled too late.

Branchbark’s claws hooked into its nose and it wailed in pain. Twisting, it snapped at him with sharp teeth and a lance of burning pain shot up his leg as it managed to catch his foot in its mouth and pull. Blood sprayed across the grass, the tang of its scent striking his tongue, and he hissed, trying to bash it over the face with his other paw. 

Yarrowshade ducked under him and lunged, sinking his teeth into the fox’s neck. The smell of blood doubled and the fox released him with a yelping, frightened scream. Yarrowshade let it go and it tumbled away panting heavily as crimson bloomed down the front of its chest. It cursed in vulpish, looking over the red spatters on the ground, then fled with clumsy pawsteps. 

Branchbark sat back with a hiss of pain and looked at his leg, giving the wound a few careful licks. Despite the pain of it, the wound seemed mostly superficial, which he thanked StarClan for. Adrenaline pumped through him, giving him a giddy lightness in his stomach. 

“What were you thinking?” Yarrowshade snapped, his muzzle slick and dark with fox blood. Branchbark wilted. That wasn’t the reaction he had been expecting. 

“I was trying to save you,” he mumbled. 

“I didn’t need saving!” said Yarrowshade. “It was giving a warning bite, we could have driven it off without a fight.” 

“I… I’m sorry,” Branchbark said, realizing that Yarrowshade was right. “I just… I didn’t want you to get hurt.” 

“So you got hurt instead,” Yarrowshade glared. Branchbark had no argument. 

“Are you okay?” Barleypaw asked, slowly creeping up behind them. Her big, bat-like ears carefully lifted from where they had been pressed against her head and her big blue eyes were wide with fright. Quickly, Yarrowshade tried to groom the blood from his muzzle before she saw. 

“Yeah,” he said, “yeah, I’ll be fine.” 

“Barley, dear,” Yarrowshade said, putting effort into sounding more gentle, “could you walk Branchbark back to camp to see Sagetooth please? I’ll collect the prey we caught and meet you there.” 

“Will you be alright?” she asked, “W-will that thing come back?” 

“The fox?” he looked over his shoulder to see where it had disappeared and then back to her, “No, it’s probably going to be gone for a while, if it survives. I’ll be just fine.” He smiled and she relaxed, but Branchbark could see something strained underneath his grin. 

“Now go on,” Yarrowshade continued, tone turning stern when he looked at Branchbark. “Get your leg seen to.” 

Branchbark nodded. “Yeah… I will. I’m sorry, again.” 

Yarrowshade’s jaw clenched but he kept his smile. “I don’t want your apologies.” 

Bile rising in his throat, Branchbark nodded again and turned to leave. Barleypaw walked beside him, worriedly eyeing his leg every few steps. He walked silently, trudging in his building guilt. He didn’t know how to make things right with Yarrowshade. He wasn’t sure if he ever could. 

“Does it hurt?” Barleypaw asked eventually.

“A little bit,” he said, and that wasn’t entirely true. It was constant and stinging against the cold winter air, but he had grown used to it by now and it wasn’t the worst wound he’d ever received. 

“I think you were very brave,” she whispered wide eyed. 

“Thank you,” he said with a bashful laugh, “but I was more foolish than brave. If I had listened to Yarrowshade I probably wouldn’t have gotten hurt.” 

“Why didn’t you?” 

What a question. He hummed for a moment before answering, “It’s my fault that Nightfrost died. I wanted to try and make it up to him and I wasn’t thinking clearly.” 

Barleypaw was quiet for a bit. “I thought it was Papa’s fault.” 

“What?” He looked down at her with a quirk of his head. 

“He went and got sick and so he couldn’t find the right plants. Sagetooth was really mad at him.” 

“It’s not his fault,” Branchbark shook his head. “He didn’t try to get sick. Sometimes bad things just happen.” 

“Then why is it your fault?” she asked. 

“I wasn’t fast enough,” he shrugged. “If I’d been faster she might have survived.” 

“That doesn’t make any sense,” she frowned. “If it's not Papa’s fault then it's not your fault either. Sometimes bad things just happen.” 

Branchbark almost laughed. “Well I guess I can’t argue with that,” he said, feeling sheepish. How had she bested his guilt so quickly? He had a feeling he was going to feel bad about what happened for a long time, but perhaps he could let go of the idea that he was uniquely to blame. He just hoped Yarrowshade felt the same.

UPDATES: - Branchbark is injured saving Yarrowshade from a fox!

[newtonsheffield]

Ooh, can we please get Newton Thoughts on him thinking he's running the whole damn farm and how did anything get done before he got there? He looks at Anthony like, "OK, Mum and I have to go to London. Please don't undo all my hard work while we're gone."

Oh my god, imagine

Here’s some Newton thoughts™️

Newton sighed as he looked over at Katie’s mate, shaking his head. Anthony was a very nice man, he really was. Newton had been curious about him since Katie had lain on their old bed with him and sighed,

“Okay, it’s silly because he lives really far away but I really like him, Buddy.”

Newton had no idea who he was but he was a curious, so he nudged her with his nose to go on.

“I… really want to meet him in person but he hasn’t asked me and… you know what, I’m going to do it. I’m going to pretend I have a reason to go to Kent and I’ll ask him to meet me and we’ll just… rip off the bandaid.”

Newton nestled against her neck in support.

He was feeling a little less supportive when he was unceremoniously dumped at Eddie and Goosey’s. With only his travel bed to sleep on, and a handful of toys. He’d tried giving Katie the cold shoulder when she came to pick him up on Sunday night, smelling completely unlike herself. He sniffed delicately at her as she bundled him into the car and huffed as he smelled the masculine scent clinging to her.

So the meeting with her new mate had gone well. Interesting.

“Newton, he was so sweet!” Kate said on the way home, “I had the best time with him. I think me and Anthony could really be something. And! Get excited, little guy, we’re going to the country next weekend and you’ll get to run around the farm with the sheep. That’ll be fun.”

Newton huffed, trying not to sound too interested in case Katie got the idea that he’d be moving to a farm of all places.

But as the week had worn on Katie had sounded so happy every time Anthony had called her and truly: by the time Friday came around he’d been desperate to see this Anthony. Curious about what had gotten Katie so enamoured with him.

He’d sat in his car seat and watched the grass roll by, a little mournful that he wouldn’t be able to chase his favourite squirrel tomorrow morning. But he supposed if this Anthony had a farm, as he’d been promised, there might be one there. From the second they arrived Newton felt excitement building in his chest as Kate let him out, the grass soft under his paws, the air filled with so many smells.

A man stepped forward, waving to Kate a little nervously, “Kate, Hi! You made it!”

“Hey, Babe.” Kate wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him close and Newton averted his eyes.

“This must be Newton.”

Yes, Newton huffed as Anthony crouched in front of him, scratching behind his ears. Thank you for finally greeting me. Took you long enough.

Anthony smelled nice though, Newton was a little dismayed to notice, and his hands were warm but Newton had gotten immediately distracted by the two pups who had run up behind him. They smelled close to Anthony, but they weren’t his puppies, Newton didn’t think as he licked the girl’s face, giddy at her delighted laughter. He liked the pups. They gave him treats and let them sleep on their beds but even better than the pups were the sheep.

Newton loved that. He loved running around after them and he realised with a sigh that Anthony needed his help if he was going to get this place in order. He seemed absolutely bloody determined to undo Newton’s hard work as quickly as possible. He kept moving the sheep to ridiculous spots around the yard no matter how many times Newton called out to him.

Anthony! No! No! The other way!

And normally, Newton wouldn’t mind doing the most work out of everyone. He was used to being the backbone of the family. But today him and Katie were going back to London for a few days. And he just knew when he got back Anthony would have undone everything.

Newton sighed as he walked up to Anthony, placing his paw on Anthony’s boot.

I know this is hard for you, buddy. But you need to just try and keep things running without me.

“Oh, bud.” Anthony chuckled, “Are you going to miss me?”

Honestly, I’m worried about you. I don’t know how this was a successful venture before I got here. Newton sighed, Just leave the sheep alone, please. I’ll tend to them when I get back.

[abbatoirablaze]

Sealed, Steve Rogers

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings:  sexual tension, slight angst, mentions of fighting, underage drinking, dubcon/noncon relationship.

Part 2 of 3.

Part 1, Signed

Part 3, Delivered

“My god, you’ve grown so much, (Y/N),” your future mother-in-law cooed as she pulled you into a hug.  You gave Mrs. Rogers a small, albeit forced smile as you pulled away and she got another look at you.  She reached out and stroked your cheek, “my god, I remember when you were just a little girl.  Barely knee high and going at it with Stevie like cats and dogs.  Now look at you!  You look like a refined young woman…”

“Yeah…it has been a while…”

“Been a while,” she giggled, pulling away from you, “been a while might have been a holiday or two…I haven’t seen you since your mother squirreled you and your sisters away from sight when you hit the end of fourth grade.”

You gave another forced smile, “yeah…I’m sorry.  I-I would have called…or written, but I-I didn’t have anyone’s numbers memorized.  A-and, well…mum thought it was best that I focus on school.  She always said a good education helps all.”

“It’s okay sweetie,” she smiled softly, “we understand…Steve’s sister just got married to that Parker boy…sweetest little couple you’ve ever seen…you’ll see them at the reception at the end of the week.  They’re still finishing their honeymoon.”

Your eyes widened, “oh no…I-I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to interr-“

“Oh, you’re not interrupting anything,” she laughed, “we insisted on Peter taking her on a nice little honeymoon to one of our villas in Milan.  They get back from there in about a day or so, so they’ll have plenty of time to unwind before your nuptials…”

“Yeah…”

“Sarah…maybe we let (Y/N) get reacquainted with everyone…I don’t believe she’s gotten to say hello to her father yet…have you dear?”

“Oh…uhm no,” you admitted sadly, the smallest of frowns crossing your lips, “I-I haven’t seen daddy yet.”

“He’s in his office,” she smiled as she looped her arm through Mrs. Rogers, “go say hello to him and pull him from whatever he’s doing in there.  He should be out here…enjoying the party.  It is your homecoming after all…and soon you’ll be a Rogers and not a Barnes.  All of you should be mingling…it’s your graduation and engagement party after all…”

“I still don’t see why we couldn’t do two separate parties,” Mrs. Rogers sighed as she gave you a soft look, “the girl should be celebrating all of her accomplishments…a party for graduating high school, and a party for becoming officially engaged to my Stevie.  I keep telling you Winnifred this all feels too cluttered…you should have let me plan at least one of the parties…allow me to showcase our home...”

“You’re too kind, Mrs. Rogers,” you offered, giving your mom an out as you put a hand on her arm, “I’m perfectly fine with just the one party.  Two parties so close to the wedding would have made it seem forced, wouldn’t it?”

She gave you a firm smile, “perhaps you’re right, sweetheart…you know, you always were a wise one, well before your time.  And how many times do I have to remind you, it’s mom…you’re practically our daughter as it is, (Y/N).  Lord knows Stevie’s been in love with you since the two of you were little…call me mom, sweetie…”

“Okay…mom…”

She chirped excitedly to your mother, cooing at how you calling her mom as well felt ‘all too right.’

Meanwhile, you rolled your eyes as you started back to the house, promising both mob wives that you would go to find your father, while ignoring the rest of the party goers and well-wishers. 

You barely had an idea on who many of them were, only knowing that they were associated with one of the five families, and here to ‘strengthen ties.’ 

It sickened you to your stomach. 

Everything was done to ‘strengthen ties,’ while they bickered behind closed doors and made stomach-turning deals.  All of them wearing faux masks of happiness to see one another, when they would all too quickly stab one another in the back for a chance on a higher rung.  But that was the nature of the beast.  One that you’d become all too accustomed to. 

You were glad when your parents sent you off to finishing school back in London.  You didn’t have to deal with anyone and could just blend in without having to be a Barnes, or the future Mrs. Rogers.

“Champagne, miss?”

You smiled politely, holding a glass in each hand.  When he gave you a look, you shrugged, “going to take one to my fiancé…or father.  Whomever I can find first I suppose.”

He gave a nod, one that said that he didn’t believe you, but he didn’t question it as he turned on his heel and went back to the main part of the party.  When he was out of sight, you downed the first.  Feeling the crisp, dry bite of the champagne, you rounded the corner and took the other, as though it was a shot yet again. 

A shiver ran down your spine as the warmth from the alcohol filled your belly.  You placed the two empty glasses along a desk sitting in the entryway. 

Sighing, you noticed that your father’s study door was closed.

It was always business with him. 

But stepping forward you could hear voices behind the heavy wooden door.  You frowned when you couldn’t recognize the one that was speaking, nor make out any words that he’d been saying.  But a roar of laughter made you pause from knocking. 

You recognized the melodic laugh of your brother, despite not seeing him since you were ten. 

“You gotta stop getting into fights, punk,” the thirteen-year-old chuckled as he ruffled the sandy blonde hair of his best friend, “you’re twelve and nearly losing to a eight year old.”

“He was nine,” Steve grumbled, shooing his friend’s hand away, “and anyways…I didn’t need your help, Buck.  I’m Steve Rogers.  The heir to the Itali-“

“You’re the heir of every ass-kicking from here to the Bronx with how you go picking fights…” Bucky replied sternly, his laughter fading away, “come on man…I shouldn’t have to rescue you from a little kid…all I wanted to do was enjoy my book and-”

“He was annoying (Y/N).”

Bucky gave you a small frown and you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your eight-year-old chest, “he wasn’t annoying me nearly as much as you were, Rogers…”

Steve’s nostrils flared, “you know…I did it to help you, (Y/N)!  I did it because I was standing up for my wif-“

“Don’t you dare say it, Steven Grant Rogers!” You growled, cutting the older boy off as you wagged your finger in his face, “don’t you dare!  I am not your wife!”

“But (Y/N), you are going to be it one day!” he said quickly, “you’re going to be my wife!  And I’m going to burn down the world for you…or at least anyone that gets in your way.”

“You’re in my way,” you growled, “you’re always in my  way.  News flash, Steve…I don’t need you lurking around every corner waiting to be chivalrous.  I don’t want it!”

“But (Y/N) I’m doing it because I love you,” he simpered, attempting to take your hand in his own, “I-

You sneered, your face scrunching up at the words as you ripped your hand from his, “stop it, Steve!  I will never be your wife…because you won’t make it to adulthood.  You won’t ever be anything other than a scrawny little twerp who can’t fight his own battles let alone the ones you pick over me…and you’re gonna get Bucky hurt…just like the last time.”

Steve frowned as he turned to look at his best friend.  Bucky nervously pulled the sleeve down so that his cybernetic arm was covered by the sweater, “(Y/N)…”

You looked at your older brother, still angry over the accident that Steve caused years ago when he and Bucky first became friends.

“I-It was an accident, my lo-“

“I’m not your anything, Steve!” you spat, glaring at the young man, “now go away!”

Bucky took a step forward, “(Y/N), that’s enough.  Steve was being a good fiancé and looking out for you.  And right now, you’re being a spoiled brat and pushing people’s buttons.”

“You had to come save his butt!”

“Yeah…and he saved yours…it’s what family does for one another…” Bucky growled, defending his friend, “family makes sure that they’re safe and sound.  That they-“

“Then why did he let you lose your arm, huh Bucky?”

“(Y/N)!”

“(Y/N)!”

You were snapped from your thoughts, and you noticed that the door to your father’s study was open, and man just inside the door, holding it open was none other than your big brother.  You felt a bit of pride in your stomach as you launched yourself at him, “BUCKY!”

“Pipsqueak!” Bucky exclaimed happily as he easily lifted you from the ground, “What are you doing in here?  You’re supposed to be out there enjoying your party!”

“Ughh, gag me with a spoon!” you groaned, “last thing I want is another snotty person from one of the families telling me congrats.  I wanted to see you, robo-boy!”

“(Y/N)” your father scolded as he stood from his desk.  Your heart melted as you peeled yourself away from your older brother and started towards your father. 

In the years since you’d last seen him, he’d definitely aged. 

He was only about fifty years old, but time had not been kind to him. 

He kept his hair short and tight on the sides, as was normal from his military days, but the salt and pepper look that had graced the longer hair on top was all but silver on the sides. 

He looked like an aged version of your older brother.  A little bit smaller, and definitely less muscle-mass, as well as the obvious differences in the fact that your father had both of his arms, while one of your brothers was a robotic one, but they were very much the same otherwise. 

“Daddy!”

He smiled as you wrapped your arms around him, becoming wrapped in the scent of the posh cologne that he wore that reminded you of smokey bourbon and fresh leather. His scolding of you had quickly faded and he allowed himself to melt under your touch. 

“Oh, sweetheart…I’ve missed you…it’s nice to have all of my children so close to home again…”

“How’ve you been.  Wha-“

“Good…good!” he smiled, pulling away from you, “but I don’t want to talk about me.  Tonight is about you, honey.  You and Steve!”

You groaned, hearing your fiancé’s name, “Daddy….can we just not talk about Steve Rogers for a second…you know that I don’t want to marry him.”

“Don’t worry…I think you’ve made that abundantly clear since we were children.”

You paled as you turned around and noticed a man that you didn’t recognize, standing off to the side of the room.  He was watching you interacting with his father while he kept his hands in his pockets.

You felt a blush rising to your cheeks as you stared back at the attractive man. He was tall and muscular…well built.  His sandy blonde hair was styled elegantly, and he was dressed to the nines.  You felt your heart fluttering as he looked at you with his cerulean stare and pouty lips. 

Was he someone new to your father’s crew?

But then the words snapped in your mind.

‘Don’t worry…I think you’ve made that abundantly clear since we were children.’

And you paled once more.

NO!

It couldn’t be.

Your stomach turned. 

Had you just been guilty of finding yourself attracted to him?  To Steve Rogers. 

You took a few steps away from your father and started to back out of the study.  “Sweetheart, where are you going?”

“Anywhere but here,” you muttered softly as you backed through the door.  You were nearly there until you stumbled when you took another step back.  You thought you’d hit the edge of the door frame, but when you heard the crashing of a silver platter behind you and the crunching of glass, you spun, “oh fuck…”

You had knocked over a waiter carrying a tray of champagne from the catering space in the kitchen to the party outside. 

“And here I was thinking it was bad luck to see the bride just on the night before the wedding,” the charming blonde smiled as he leaned against the bookcase.  You shot him a glare, trying to focus your rage into him, instead of staring at his chiseled jawline and the way that his clothes clung to his muscular frame and slim waist.  He pushed himself away from it and pulled his hands from his pockets.  In three quick steps he was nearly on top of you, his arm already looping around your waist and pulling you close.  Your lips parted as you stared into his cerulean eyes, unsure of what to do or say.  A smirk tugged at his lips, “why did no one tell me that it’s also two days before?”

“S-steve…”

He chuckled, and the action sent a pulse straight to your core as he watched you, “have you been drinking, (Y/N?)”

You felt a whimper escaping the back of your throat as you lost all resolve.  You weakly nodded, unable to form the words. 

“I can smell it on your breath,” he chuckled softly, still holding you close, “You naughty girl…”

“Sweetheart…I’m sure you remember Steve…” your father reminded you, “perhaps…your brother should take you to the powder room though…or the kitchen and get you sobered up before we address the guests for coming to celebrate you and him…”

“Y-yeah…”

[winchesterwild78]

Unexpected Hunter Pt 3

Chapter Warnings: fluff, SMUT, mention of weapons, sexual tension, oral sex, violence, falling in love fluffy stuff

18+ Minors DNI

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

After dinner you helped Dean and Sam clean up the kitchen. Lexi was sleeping under the table. She fell asleep waiting for any scraps to fall on the floor. Unfortunately nothing fell. When the kitchen was clean you called to her to wake up. “I’m going to take Lexi for a walk to stretch her legs. I’ll be back soon” you said to the guys. Sam and Dean exchanged looks and Sam spoke up. “Do you think it’s wise to go outside alone” he asked. “Yes, I’ve got her and trust me she will protect me” you said more stern than you intended. Dean was about to say something but you stopped him. “Guys, I’m not a fragile glass that can break easily. I’ll stay close to the bunker and if I see or hear anything I’ll call or come inside” you said looking directly at Dean. Dean just shook his head in acknowledgment and looked at Lexi.

He walked over to her and rubbed her head she of course wagged her tail and started licking him. He whispered to her “take care of our girl”. She turned her head to the side like she understood him. You walked over and told Lexi to come on and you placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll be fine, Dean” you said with a soft smile on your face. He nodded and stood up. Sam watched the interaction and started to grow a little concerned. He was happy it seemed his brother was happy, but he was concerned because he knew what would happen if Dean fell too hard and something happened to you.

You put your shoes on and told Lexi to come on. She bounded up the steps and you chuckled. She’s been so good and understanding with the change. She has been your constant companion for a few years and you’re so glad you were able to go back for her. Once outside Lexi started running in circles and bouncing around. You laughed watching her. “Don’t forget to use the bathroom girl, I don’t think Sam and Dean will be happy if you use it inside” you said to her. She stayed close but kept running around. You loved seeing her happy. She was mid run and stopped and started staring at the woods. You watched her and saw her hair stand on end. Then there was a low growl coming from her. You called her name but she wouldn’t move.

Before you could get your phone out to call Dean, you felt his arms around you. He whispered in your ear “go inside”. “I can’t leave Lexi” you said protesting. “I’ve got her, go inside NOW” he yelled the last part and it startled you. You looked over your shoulder and saw Dean moving closer to Lexi with his gun drawn. You went inside and saw Sam. You were shaking and told him what happened. He ran up the stairs. His long legs had him up the stairs in about 3 seconds. He ran outside and joined Dean.

As he got to Dean he noticed Lexi was focused on something in a tree. Dean had his gun ready and was trying to see what it was. Then it jumped out of the tree and landed between Lexi and Dean. Lexi took off as it ran and Dean and Sam stood there laughing and putting their guns away. Lexi finally gave up and joined the men. “Good girl, protecting y/n from a big bad squirrel” Dean said laughing. “Come on girl, let’s get inside.” The three of them walked inside and down the stairs. You were sitting at the table in the war room but stood when you saw them. You gulped and asked “what was it”. Dean came over took your hand and said “Don’t worry sweetheart, Lexi chased it away. You’re safe now.” He started laughing and so did Sam. “What’s so funny” you asked kinda irritated. Sam spoke up “Lexi saved us from a big bad squirrel”. You rolled your eyes and ran your hands down your face. “Oh good grief” you said. The guys started laughing and Lexi wagged her tail so proud of herself.

Sam sat at his laptop and started clicking away. You started to walk to the kitchen to get Lexi some water. Dean followed you. “Hey, y/n I was thinking if you’re up to it I’d like to teach you some basic moves to help protect you.” He said as you two walked in the kitchen. “Um, sure I can do some training with you.” You said grabbing a bowl for Lexi. “Great I can meet you in the gym and we can go over some basic moves” he said as he walked towards the door. You gave Lexi her water and started to walk out of the kitchen. Wait, where’s the gym. You thought. You turned the corner to ask Sam and you ran face first into something solid. “Oof” Dean said as you walked right into his chest. “Where are you off to in such a hurry sweetheart” he asked. “Um I was going to ask Sam where the gym was. Sorry I ran into you.” You said not making eye contact. He brushed your hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear. Then lifted your chin so you were looking right into his piercing green eyes. His touch sent a chill through your body and caused you to shiver. He smirked and said “come on, follow me”. He grabbed your hand and led you to the gym. Once inside you looked around and saw equipment and mats. He nodded towards the mats and you walked over. He walked to the radio and put in a tape. The speakers started playing classic rock and you smiled.

“Figured we needed some music” he said with a smile. Ugh, that smile of his made you clench your thighs together. “Okay sweetheart let’s start with some basic defense moves.” He said as he walked over to you. He lifted your arms up and explained how to keep your face safe and how to stay relaxed. He walked around you and came up behind you showing you how to protect yourself from an attacker that comes up behind you. About an hour in you both were panting and sweating. It was hot in the room and not just from the sparring. The sexual tension was heavy in the air. “Okay y/n now let’s put it all together see if you’ve learned anything. I’m going to try to attack you. I’m not going to tell you how I’m going to attack but I want you to be ready for anything. Remember I won’t hurt you, but I need you to think I’m going to. Are you ready?” He asked. You nodded yes. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you were excited, anxious and aroused.

Dean lunged at you and you blocked him. He came behind you and put his arms around your body. You were able to get out of the hold and flipped him on the mat. You straddled him and pinned him down. You both were panting and your eyes locked. “Good girl” he said. That made your walls clench around nothing. You decided to grind your hips down on him causing him to growl. You pulled your bottom lip into your mouth and bit down. His hands started to trace up your body and you moaned. You leaned over to kiss his lips and he flipped you over on your back laughing. “Not fair” you said with a pout. “Never let your guard down, baby” he said as he leaned over to kiss your lips. You smiled and rolled your eyes. This man was going to be the death of you, you just knew it. Oh what a sweet death it would be too.

You bucked your hips into him and was able to wiggle out from under him. He grabbed you and pulled you back over to him. You laid beside him on the mat propped up on your elbow. You kissed him and ran your hand down his face. His beard was growing out so his face was a little rough. It felt amazing under your fingertips.

You positioned yourself between his legs and looked up at him through your lashes. You gave him an evil smirk and hooked your fingers in his belt. You unhooked it and he grabbed your hand. “What are you doing, sweetheart” he asked. “You just lay there and watch. I’m going to show you how thankful I am for you and your sparring lessons” you said with a smirk. “Yes ma’am” he said as he laid back folding his arms behind his head. You unbuttoned his pants and slowly unzipped them. As the zipper slid down you felt his hardness in his jeans. Your hand brushed against his shaft and he sucked in air. You giggled as you did it again. You started to remove his jeans and he lifted his hips to help you. You took his boxers down with his pants exposing his hard length. You bit your bottom lip then licked your lips with anticipation. Dean couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

You started at the base and licked up his shaft. Dean inhaled quickly and he tried to grip the mat. When your tongue got to the head of his hard cock you licked the precum off. Dean growled. You slowly took his cock head in your mouth and looked up at Dean. He was trying to keep his eyes open to watch you but it was hard. You sucked him deep into your mouth and down your throat. He moaned “mmm baby, just like that”. You ran your tongue up the shaft as you pulled your head back up. When you got to the tip you sucked hard and pulled your mouth away. “Dean, grab my hair. I want you in control” you said seductively. “Fuck baby” was all he could say as you took his length back in your mouth. With your free hand you cupped his balls. Dean grabbed your hair and helped guide you up and down his shaft as you worked your magic. The room filled with the sounds of you sucking and Dean’s moans. You were letting your tongue explore every inch of his shaft as he pushed it down your throat. “Fuck y/n I’m going to cum” he said with hitching breaths. You kept going. “Oh god I’m gonna cum baby” Dean said as you pushed your head down his shaft he came deep down your throat. You could feel his hot seed coating your throat. You sucked him until he was done. When you released his cock from your mouth his lips were on you kissing you deeply. When he let you go he looked at you and said “damn baby that was amazing, but you didn’t have to do that”. “I know, I wanted to and I’m glad you liked it” you said with a smile. “Liked it, baby I loved it” he said. He kissed you again and started to help you up.

As soon as you stood Sam appeared at the door. “Hey Dean, I think I found a case” he said. He looked at you two all sweaty and your hair a mess and laughed. “Yikes guys, in the gym too” Sam said laughing. You blushed and Dean said “shut up Sammy, I was teaching her some stuff”. Sam laughed and said “I bet”. “I’m going to shower fellas. Thanks Dean for the lesson. Hopefully I’m good enough to go with y’all soon” you said as you started to walk out of the room. Sam looked at Dean who was watching you intently. Sam cleared his throat. “So, you found a case” Dean asked. “Yeah, I think it’s a vamp nest. A few local people in this small Ohio town have started to disappear and the ones that have turned up have all their blood drained.” Sam said while showing him his laptop. “Sounds like a case. Let’s get ready. Meet you at baby in half an hour.” Dean said as he turned off the radio and headed to his room to shower.

Sam packed and was waiting for Dean. He walked into the kitchen and saw you standing at the sink. “Hey y/n are you and Lexi going to be okay for a few days without us” he asked. You turned and looked at Sam “yeah we’ll be fine. We won’t leave the bunker and I have my cell so I’ll call if I need anything. I’m just going to miss y’all.” You said as you turned back around. “We won’t be gone too long sweetheart” you heard Dean say and you instantly turned back around. You ran over to him and threw your arms around him. Hugging him tight. He held you just as tight. Sam knew his brother didn’t want to leave you. “Guys, why doesn’t she come with us. She can help with research and everything.” Sam looked at you and Dean. You gasped “really?!? I can go too”. You couldn’t believe you were acting like a clingy child. You’ve never acted like that in any other relationship. “Sure, you just have to listen to us. We don’t want you to get hurt” Sam said. You threw your arms around him and hugged him. “I’m gonna go pack” you said leaving the room. “Sorry Dean, I couldn’t stand seeing you two look like someone kicked your puppy” he said placing a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “It’s fine Sammy. I appreciate it. Thank you” Dean said while he gathered Lexi’s stuff.

You ran to your room and packed some stuff for a few days. You were excited and nervous about the possibility of going on your first hunt. You knew Dean would try to keep you safe but you had to get your feet wet. You grabbed everything you needed and met the guys in the garage. Apparently Dean always has a “go bag” as he calls it. Lexi jumped in the backseat and you climbed in with her. Dean jumped in the drivers seat and Sam slid in the passenger seat. You were excited and Dean was a little apprehensive. You made eye contact with him in the rear view mirror and gave him a soft smile. He smiled back and you sat back looking out the window. Lexi curled up beside you and put her head on your lap. You rubbed her head until she fell asleep and a few hours later you had fallen asleep.

After about five hours in the car Dean stopped to stretch, get gas and get something to eat. When the car stopped you woke up and stretched and noticed there was slobber on the side of your face. You quickly wiped it away but it was too late. Dean had already seen it. He chuckled as you blushed. “Don’t worry about it sweetheart, Sammy slobbers all over the car” he said laughing. “Hey, I do not” Sammy protested. You smiled and climbed out of the back seat. You took Lexi for a quick walk and let her use the bathroom. Once she finished you walked back to the impala and Sam was standing there. “Hey Sam, can you keep an eye on her while I run and use the bathroom.” You asked Sam. “Sure” Sam said petting Lexi’s head.

You walked towards the store and saw Dean inside looking at the snacks like a kid. You walked over to him “whatcha getting” you asked him. “I don’t know, but look at these mini pies. There are so many kinds.” He said with a twinkle in his eyes. You smiled and let your hand slide down his arm as you walked away. You headed towards the bathroom and went in. While you were in the stall the hairs on your arm stood on end. Something wasn’t right. You left the stall and washed your hands. When you turned to dry them you felt someone grab you from behind. You immediately turned and was able to get them off of you. You kicked them away, they hit the floor and you noticed they were out cold. You opened the bathroom door and yelled for Dean. He came running and looked surprised. “What happened y/n” he asked you. You told him what happened and he was grinning from ear to ear. “What’s so funny” you asked him. He laughed and said “you kicked their ass”. You laughed too.

He bent down and opened their mouth and a set of fangs dropped down. “What is it” you asked him. “It’s a vamp” he said. “I’m surprised you were able to knock them out” he said. He grabbed your hand and the snacks and y’all headed for the car. “Let’s go” he said pulling you to the car. “Sammy we’ve got to go now” Dean said as y’all got near the car. Once in the car Dean told Sam what happened. “Damn, y/n sounds like you’re a natural hunter.” Sam said. “Yeah it was weird I felt something was off and my hair stood on end. I knew something was wrong. Then I just reacted once she grabbed me” you told him while making eye contact with Dean in the mirror. Dean was so proud of you he couldn’t stop smiling.

A few hours later y’all were pulling into the motel you’d be staying in for the next few days. Sam went in to get the rooms while you, Dean and Lexi waited in the car. Dean told you they figured you’d want your own room so you had more privacy. “You sure that’s the only reason, Dean” you said smiling at him. “Maybe, sweetheart. I mean I might be convinced to come over to help with Lexi if you need me to” he said winking at you. “Oh yeah, to help with Lexi” you said. Sam came back with the keys. He said they gave you adjoining rooms so it would make it easier to do research. Dean looked at you and wiggled his eyebrows and you rolled your eyes.

Dean drove to the door of the room and you all climbed out. Sam handed you your key and you grabbed your stuff and walked in your room. Lexi followed Dean and when you called for her she kept walking. Dean laughed as you called her a traitor. You unlocked the door that opened into their room and knocked on their’s. Sam opened it and you saw Lexi curled up on Dean’s bed. You rolled your eyes and said “I guess I’ve been replaced”. Sam said he was going to grab some food for everyone and would be back soon.

Dean sat down at the table and motioned for you to sit down. “Hey, I wanted to tell you I’m really proud of you for taking down that vamp today. It could have been so much worse if you didn’t trust your instincts.” You blushed and said “thank you, Dean. Thank you for showing me how to get out of a hold too. She grabbed me from behind and I was able to use what you taught me to get out of it.” You got up and placed a kiss on his lips. He pulled you on his lap and deepened the kiss. Things were starting to heat up when Sam came back. “Hey, get a room you two” he said sitting the food down. You smiled and Dean said “okay” grabbing your hand and pulling you to the door. “Dean we have to eat” you said laughing. He grumbled but sat down to eat.

You all ate dinner and you fed Lexi who immediately went and sat beside Dean. Of course she did. She definitely has gotten attached to him. You didn’t mind, because to be honest you were too. After you finished and you got Lexi fed you told the guys you were going to go take a shower. Sam nodded but Dean stared at you. You looked at him and winked then walked in your room. You closed the adjoining door but didn’t lock it.

Sam got up and headed for the shower in their room.

You started the shower and grabbed your clothes for bed while the water heated up. You stripped off your clothes and got into the hot shower. The water felt amazing on your skin. You stood under the spray for a few minutes letting the grime of travel wash away. You washed your hair and started washing your body. You heard a soft knock on the door. You smiled because you knew it was Dean. “Hello” you said. “Hey ya sweetheart, care for some company” Dean said in his panty dropping voice. “Sure, there’s not much room but I’m sure we can make it work” you said opening the curtain a little bit.

Dean removed his clothes and climbed in. “Jesus, y/n that water is scalding.” Dean said jumping back. You giggled and turned the hot water down. “There, better” you asked him. “Yeah, thank you” he said kissing your lips. You giggled and started to rinse the soap off. Dean captured your lips again and his hand was running over your body. You moaned into his kiss and ran your fingers through his hair. He started to pull your naked body close to his. Your body had a mixture of water and soap running down it and Dean’s was glistening with water. You grabbed the soap and started to lather his chest up. He smiled as your hands ran up his chest and over his broad shoulders. Your fingertips danced down his biceps leaving soap trails as you slid down. You bit your bottom lip as you touched more of his body. As you got to his fingers your hands slid over to his hips. You lathered the soap again and painted soap across his hips and pelvis. You smiled when you saw he was getting hard. Your hand accidentally brushed against his hardening cock and he let out a mixture of a gasp and a moan. Whatever it was it caused your thighs to clench. The sound was primal.

You worked your way down his leg and over to the other one. When you got to the top of each leg you lightly brushed your hand over his hard length. He knew what you were doing. “Don’t tease” Dean warned with a growl. You looked up and smirked.

He pulled you to your feet and pinned you to the wall taking your lips like a man starved. You moaned into his mouth and you felt his hand travel between your thighs. You were dripping wet and not because of the water. Dean’s hand slid between your folds and just as he started to rub he pulled away laughing. “Ugh, come on Dean” you said almost in a whine. “Not yet princess” he said with a grin. He stood under the water and rinsed off. You grabbed a towel and started to dry off. When Dean got out of the shower he barely dried off before he was pulling you to the bed. You giggled and he got in the bed with you. You were soaking wet and so was he but neither of you cared. He leaned over you kissed your lips softly and left kisses down your neck and chest. As he was working his way down there was a knock at the adjoining door. “Not now Sammy” Dean yelled at the closed door. “I’m going to bed. Try not to make me an Uncle guys.” Sam said through the door. You giggled and Dean laughed.

Dean said “now where was I” and continued leaving kisses down your body. Goosebumps covered your body and the heat of his breath was driving you wild. Dean climbed in between your legs and looked at you. He leaned forward and kissed your lips. There was something about this kiss. It felt different but still amazing. “Dean make love to me” you whispered. He leaned back on his feet and looked at you. Dean gave you a soft smile and lined himself up to you and slowly slid inside. Even slow it was a lot to take. You and Dean locked eyes and kept staring with each push. God he felt amazing. He pushed all the way in and stopped. “You okay, baby” he asked softly. You whispered “yes, Dean. I’m amazing”. He kissed your lips and started to move in and out slowly. He was taking his time and was so gentle. Definitely different than before. Your hands were on his body and his were on yours. In that moment there was nothing in the world that could tear you apart. The pace he set was perfect. Not too fast and not too slow. “I want you to cum for me baby” Dean whispered in your ear. You slid your hand between him and your clit. Rubbing circles as he thrusted deeper hitting that spot. He sped up a little to help you. “Oh Dean, I’m gonna cum” you said breathlessly. “Cum for me baby” he whispered in your ear. As you chased your release Dean was chasing his. Your walls clenched around his cock. Gripping every inch. Dean groaned as you came hard. He kept the faster pace chasing his release. “I’m gonna cum, sweetheart” Dean moaned. “Cum for me baby, fill me up” you said. That’s all he needed as he emptied his hot seed deep inside you coating your walls.

You and Dean were panting and he leaned down capturing your lips in a tender kiss. As he softened he slid out and got up to clean you both up. Once you both were clean he crawled back in bed and you laid your head on his chest. He was running his fingers up and down your arm as you started to drift off to sleep in his arms. With a yawn and a soft sigh you whispered “I love you, Dean” and drifted off to sleep. Dean froze but didn’t say anything. He knew he was falling for you, but admitting it scared the hell out of him. He placed a soft kiss on your head and drifted off to sleep.

Part 4

Forever tags:

@nescaveckdaily @kr804573

[bcofl0ve]

dad!austin butler x female!reader fake ig 📲

[i am a girl dad!austin truther but wanted to make a son!au for some reason, enjoy!!!]

liked by perezhilton, stranger25 and 1,658 others

tmz_tv Let’s play house! Austin Butler rushes out of Elvis premiere in New York City, reportedly due to fiancé Y/N going into labor. Full video at link in bio.

abfan43 he looks so stressed and they can’t stop shoving cameras in his face jesus christ

abfan2 he should’ve started swinging

abfan_ if you listen at the :10 second mark you can kinda hear him telling his manager to call y/n when they get in the car i hope everything’s okay

abfan6 i’m sure everything’s fine he seemed more excited!stressed than bad!stressed

abfan79 at least she lives in nyc and he’s not at cannes rn like talk about timing 🙏🏼

liked by bazluhrmann, asheytisdale and 509,834 others

austinbutler Apologies for rushing out of the premiere last night. But I think I had a pretty good reason.

Welcome home Sebastian. Your mama and daddy love you so much already. 💙

_ashleybee_ Over the moon for both of you. He’s perfect.

abfan_ sir you owe no one an apology for not missing the birth of your child i promise

abfan54 this ^^^ congrats austin and y/n!!!

ashleytisdale ❤️😭

bazluhrmann He couldn’t wait one more second to see Elvis, clearly! ⚡️👶🏼

liked by austinbutler, y/n and 15,768 others

ashleytisdale Picked up a bonus kid while mommy and daddy go to the Oscars, go @austinbutler go!

y/n stop letting him practice walking when we’re not there, knock him over!!!

ashleytisdale don’t worry he played with this for about 3 seconds before crying because i was holding jupiter and not him

abfan11 🕯🕯🕯soon to be son of oscar WINNER austin butler🕯🕯🕯

abfan7 we’re gonna need a photo of sebastian with the oscar tmmrw!!!

liked by altonmason, y/n and 496,658 others

austinbutler My best friend and the very best mom. Sebastian and I love you to the stars and appreciate everything you do more than you’ll ever know. Happy day mamas! ❤️

abfan3 the idea of austin calling her mamas makes me want to run around in circles like a rabid squirrel

abfan_ 📸📸📸 straight to the struggle account on twitter

oliviadejonge you guys need to come back to aussie ASAP i need baby snuggles

y/n 🤐😉

oliviadejonge text me right now hello???

catherinemartindesigns Happy Mother’s Day Y/N, you are a gem and your family is lucky to have you!!!

[charmedreincarnation]

Hey charm, is it true that once you get everything in your life , you'll stop appreciating things in general, cuz you have easy access to it?

I'm not sure if I'm wording this right.pls bear with me, english is my second language.

I was questioning myself trying to understand why it's taking me so long to tap into void ,and this fear popped up.

What I want from void is to be a master manifestor ,being able to summon things out of nowhere. And once I achieve this,will I stop being grateful for things ? What if I turn into this egotistical maniac? This sounds absolutely irrational now that I'm typing it out.

Here is my thought process : the only reason I appreciate having money is because I know what it's like to be poor. The only reason I appreciate having parents who loves me unconditionally is because I know what it's like to live with abusive parents. Etc etc .so once I have everything that I want, will I stop appreciating life ? Will I lose interest in myself ?

I guess I'm over complicating things now. Idk.

Did it change the way you approach life once you entered void and got what you want ? If so how ? If other annons who entered void could answer this, that would be great too.

I absolutely love this question! It's something that I've thought about a lot, and to be honest, I believe that the law is an extension of your personality. It's all about your mindset and your approach to life. If you're kind and generous when you're struggling, you're going to be even more giving when you have wealth and abundance. On the other hand, if you're selfish and greedy when you're poor, you're likely to continue that behavior even if your financial situation changes.

I think it's important to remember that everyone is different, and we all have our own journeys to follow. Even if you compare yourself to people who have always had money and privilege, that doesn't mean that they are inherently happier or more fulfilled than you are. I now can find an abundance of joy in simple things like feeding the animals in my backyard (I recently domesticated a squirrel and crow I’m an animal whisperer) or enjoying a cheap meal from my favorite restaurant. I didn’t have the privilege to enjoy the beauty of nature and little things when I was stressed and poor and riddened with anxiety tbh, but it’s always been there??? Nothing has changed I just have the ability to see it now. I love me a channel purse, but a lot of the things that make happy are free and always have been. I’m still a material girl regardless tho 💅💅

For me, the law has helped me appreciate the little things in life so much more. Before I discovered it, I was always searching for more and never felt satisfied with what I had. But now, I'm grateful for everything in my life, both big and small. I take things less seriously and just focus on being a kind and genuine person. I truly believe that if you put out positive energy into the world, it’s going to be a reflection of your inner heart regardless of whatever.

So don't worry about becoming someone like Elon musk or losing sight of who you are. The law is simply a tool to help you become the best version of yourself. And thinking about this already should be a reminder that you have a great head on your shoulder. Keep growing, keep learning, and keep being true to who you are. That's what really matters in life.

[powerofelvis]

Peach Tea in Tennessee | One

Pairing: Elvis Presley x black!reader

Word Count: 6K

Summary: Love is wasted on the young, or so they say. This isn’t the case for Elvis. He never dreamed of it happening to him, but a girl with the nude brown sunhat who sits in the park near Lauderdale Courts with the romance novel in her hand would change a lot of his thoughts about what true love truly means. This is a love story for the young and old, this is the love story that deserves to be told.

Warnings: teenaged!elvis, black bookworm!reader, smut (in later chapters), fluff, angst (lots of it), twists and turns, slow burn, a classic love story, written in the segregation/civil rights era, mention of racial slurs, happy ending???

A/N: Hey there babies, welcome to the beginning of Peach Tea in Tennessee. I wasn’t for sure if this would be a series or not, but because of my darlings, it has become a series! I’ve gotten some ideas from some of my babies and decided that this shouldn’t only be a one-shot so this is what it has come down to. This was a request from a wonderful anon who blew my mind with what she asked for. I don’t wanna keep you guys but I’m truly excited to see how this series will turn out. I hope everyone sticks around and enjoys the love story of Elvis and his little peach. 💗

masterlist.

Summers in Memphis were unusually scorching. The neighborhood kids would find themselves spending their breaks away from school by the lake or playing in the streets near a busted fire hydrant. 

Elvis was no different. 

Although he wasn’t necessarily popular with his peers at Humes, he still had a small circle of people he would like to think were his friends. One blistering summer day, Elvis was heading to the lake to meet with his friend, Red West. He had to beg his mother to allow him to take the car, but he knew that she would worry that something would happen to him during the route. 

He started the journey there, his trusty guitar thrown over his shoulder and a song in his head. It would take him longer on foot than if he would have gotten the keys to his 1941 Lincoln, but he felt that he needed the exercise. He cursed under his breath as the blistering sun beamed down on his skin, eyes hooded as he tried to keep himself composed. 

As he rounded the corner, he could make out a few of the neighborhood kids from his school who would in their spare time make jokes about his lanky form or his fashion. They would call him ‘squirrel’ or ‘mama’s boy’, but it didn’t bother him much. While he kept his eyes forward in hopes that they didn’t notice him, his eyes cut to the local park that all of the poor families of the neighborhood would frequent. 

His family lived in Lauderdale Courts, the first of many housing projects that were owned by the government. The local park was a place where he and his family would often spend their time when they needed a place that was less stuffy than the two bedroom apartment that they lived in. He continued forward, his eyes lingering over the people who were out and about with their children or with their significant others. 

However, there was one woman who stood out the most to him. You sat on a knitted quilt, the patterns catching his eyes with little birds and sunflowers on each piece of fabric. You had a nude brown sunhat on your head, but he could count the amount of curls on your head as your face was pushed into a book. Your cocoa brown complexion shone under the heated sun, the sundress that you wore was almost cream but it made your complexion stand out. 

Although he couldn’t see your face, he knew that you were beautiful. Elvis was almost starstruck with how content you seemed, book in hand, surrounded by little eatables that he figured that you liked. While he was caught in wonder at the beautiful girl who sat in the entrance of the park, he bumped into something or someone. He didn’t want to turn away from her and from the looks of the person who stood in the way of his dream girl, he wished that he hadn’t. 

“Hey Squirrel, where are you headed?” The voice caught him by surprise. 

He sucked in a breath, feeling the presence of two more people behind him. It was Richard Dundy and his goons, the football stars at Humes who often were at the forefront of his teasing. His electric blues glared at the boy, sidestepping him as he only wanted to keep walking until he made it to the lake. His eyes turned back to where you were sitting only to find that you had placed the book aside as the commotion distracted you. Your eyes burned into the boy who stood in front of him, daggers in your eyes as your lips sat in a tight line. 

“Why don’t you leave him alone?” His eyes widened like saucers at the sound of your voice.

He didn’t think that you would sound as beautiful as you looked; your bronze eyes watching their every move, but hadn’t once looked in his direction. Then your eyes turned to look at him and he could have sworn that his heart jumped out of his chest. He didn’t want you to get involved, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if you had gotten in trouble by defending him. Especially because you were on the different spectrum when it came to race. However, race didn’t matter to him. You were incredibly breathtaking and he would come to your rescue if he needed to. 

“Nobody was talkin’ to you, little lady.” Richard spat, the hatred filling his eyes as they raked over your body. 

Elvis could see red, reaching forward to grip the boy’s collar before leaning into his ear. “You don’t talk to a woman that way, I don’t care who she is.” 

Richard smirked, his eyes moving from you before turning back to the boy in front of him. By the look of his wild eyes, Elvis knew that he brought unnecessary trouble to you. But, as troubles would often come and go in his life, he knew that he didn’t like the way they looked at you. He found himself wanting to protect you, even if it was from himself. 

“Oh, so little mama’s boy has a darkie as a girlfriend? You never fail to disgust me every time I see you.” 

That did it. 

Elvis didn’t hold himself back as he reared his fist back before connecting it to Richard’s smug face. He heard you gasp, but all he could see was red. As he tussled with Richard on the ground, he could feel his goons struggling to pick him up from where he sat, fists connecting with every part of his face that he could reach. At that moment, he was pushed off but his eyes never left yours as he watched you covering your mouth at the commotion in front of you. 

He was so embarrassed that he made a fool of himself in front of you. Once the situation died down, he looked in your direction once more, almost falling back down on the concrete from your beautiful smile. He couldn’t be in your presence looking the way that he did, so he gave a small smile to you before continuing on his way. 

You were shocked that a guy like him would have issues with others. In your mind, you figured that he was popular, but due to the situation that happened before you, you felt pity for the boy. You could only hope that you would have the chance to express to him how grateful you were that he stood up for you. 

Days went by without the sighting of the lanky, blue eyed boy who pummeled the rascal that spoke to you in such a hateful manner. You shouldn’t be surprised though, you lived in such a time where people would spit in your general direction. Not him, you hoped. However, as time went on, you would begin to believe that the situation days prior was only a fluke. When he didn’t show up in the days following the incident, you were beginning to think that it was the last time that you would see him. 

What you didn’t know was that he would walk that same path past the park once you were gone, his heart hopeful to catch a glance of the beautiful girl with the bronze complexion that shimmered under the sun. He was beginning to lose hope as well when he didn’t see the beautiful quilt or the nude sunhat that sat on the crown on your head. How he wished that he wasn’t a coward, that he didn’t even know your name. He couldn’t face you after you witnessed him struggling to seem macho. 

He didn’t want to approach you, with the fear that you would view him as a boy who couldn’t hold his own. That he couldn’t protect you from the dangers that you dealt with on a day-to-day basis. Elvis was conflicted; he wanted to hide himself away from you, viewing you as a goddess that deserved to be treated with the utmost respect but he also wanted to get to know you. He wanted to know what you liked and disliked, he wanted to be the man who made you smile like you always did when you were neck deep in those books of yours. 

One summer afternoon, Elvis walked that same path with his guitar strapped to his back. His cerulean eyes searched the entire park for the dark-skinned beauty who had become a fixture of his daily thoughts. He was eager to see you once again, but he wasn’t willing to have his hopes shattered at the reality that maybe he had scared you away. He told his mama all about the girl who captured his attention, how you loved romance novels and little snack cakes. His cousins teased him about how he was becoming a hopeless romantic, after all, they were used to seeing him being chased by girls on the regular. You weren’t like those girls, he refused to believe that you would throw yourself all over him because of his act of chivalry. 

Elvis needed to know your name. He knew that it would taste sweet on the tip of his tongue, but he had no clue where to find you. Elvis didn’t know if he would ever see you again, but he wasn’t willing to give up until he captured your beauty in his sights once more. 

“Excuse me sir, I’ve seen you walk past this park every single day. Are you looking for someone by chance?” Elvis turned to see a taller woman with the same complexion as the girl who graced his dreams. 

It wasn’t you, but maybe she would know where he could find the smaller framed woman that he has been searching endlessly for. 

“Uh y-yes. Ya see, ‘m lookin’ for a short woman. W-with the b-beautiful b-ronzed skin that shines under the sun. She’s always readin’ a book or somethin’, n-nude sunhat?” He stammered over his words, cheeks tinted with pink. 

The girl in front of him pondered over his words for some time before a knowing smile crossed her lips. Elvis didn’t miss the way her eyes lit up as if she knew exactly who he was talking about. She stepped away from him, peering at him with an unyielding gaze before she opened her mouth.  

“So you’re the boy who punched that scoundrel in the face?” She asked, eliciting a nod from Elvis as he twiddled with his thumbs. 

Elvis didn’t know where the girl was going with the conversation, but he didn’t press her any further. He was sure that she didn’t know the unknown woman who plagued his dreams every night, but he was surprised when her smile grew. “You’re looking for Y/N. She’s been at the park everyday, lookin’ for you. However, when she didn’t see you, she was beginning to give up so she took a break for a while. I can tell you where she lives if you want to find her?” 

Elvis’ knees nearly gave out at the sound of your name. Y/N. He was right that your name was just as beautiful as you were. The girl gave him your address and he became immediately familiar with the neighborhood; after all, that’s where he would frequent with his buddies when they went looking for the hot spots to catch a glimpse of his favorite musicians. Elvis was the type to not chase his tail while trying to get a girl’s attention, but he didn’t mind making a fool of himself in order to get yours. 

That same night, he sat at the dinner table with his folks happily chewing up the meatloaf that his mother had made. His mama knew that he was growing impatient with the search for the girl who caught her boy’s attention. It was then at the dinner table that she knew that something had changed, but she couldn’t put two and two together at that time. 

“What’s got you so happy, baby?” Gladys placed her fork back down on the plate, catching Vernon’s attention as he sipped from his beer bottle. 

“Why can’t the boy be happy, Gladys? He’s been down in the dumps since last week, maybe something good happened at school.” Vernon grunted, turning to face his son as he looked at the both of his parents. 

“Nothin’ ever good happens at school, Daddy.” Elvis started, placing his fork down on the table before grabbing the glass of his mama’s famous lemonade, taking a couple of gulps before placing the glass back down on the table. 

“If nothin’ ever good happens at school, son, why don’t ya tell us what’s got ya so merry then?” Vernon pressed, a smirk crossing his lips as he knew it had something to do with the short brown-skinned woman that his son wouldn’t stop yammering about. 

“I finally found that girl that I was tellin’ yous about. Her name is Y/N and she lives out there by Beale Street.” Elvis grinned, his cheeks burning pink as he felt embarrassed about how jubilant he sounded when speaking your name. 

“That’s great news, baby. Are you gon’ invite her over for dinner?” Gladys questioned, a soft smile crossing her lips as she took in the horrified look on her son’s face by the question she asked. 

“Mama, I don’t wanna scare her away by invitin’ her to meet my parents so early when I didn’t even know her name until earlier today.” He groaned, brows furrowed as he so desperately wanted you to meet his parents. 

“I’m thinkin’ about askin’ her out on a date first. She may not even be interested in me, I’m white and she’s black. That may be a problem for her.” He frowned, scratching at the back of his neck as his ears burned red. 

Gladys frowned at her son’s ignorance, sending a sharp glare in his direction before turning to her husband. She knew the era that they lived in, but she could never understand how people could have an hateful perception of a dynamic of people based on the color of their skin. Back in Tupelo, Gladys remembered a kind woman who welcomed her and her son with open arms when they became the only white family to move into Shake Rag. From then on, she had come to love and cherish every human that graced the world. 

The good Lord’s word always preached to love thy neighbor and in her eyes, black people weren’t an exception to the rule. She didn’t miss how Elvis was always fascinated by the tent revivals that happened in the same town of Shake Rag, listening to him become thrilled about the type of music that he wanted to make once he grew older. Although she worried about her son, she always wanted her son to be happy. A couple of grandkids didn’t hurt either. 

She knew that it was a little bit early to talk to her son about her desire to see her son happily married with children of his own, to fill the void that she has always had since her beloved Jessie earned his angel wings. God knows that she and Vernon couldn’t bear having another child, the uncertainty that the same would happen to it if they pushed through. Having Elvis was enough, but she couldn’t help but to think that maybe growing old and witnessing her precious son having his own family would fill the hole that became engraved in her heart. 

“I’m sure that she would be delighted to go on a date with you, son. Don’t let the segregation laws stop ya, but whatever ya do, be careful. You may not know it now, but people are evil. Ya don’t want nothin’ to happen to that beautiful girl.” Vernon spoke up, picking up the bottle of beer before taking another swig. 

“Yessir.” Elvis drawled, eyeing his mother who seemed deep in thought. “Everythin’ alrite, mama?”

Gladys returned her son’s gaze, mustering up a small smile as she nodded her head. “Your father is right, baby. Keep that girl safe, Elvis. I couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to you or to her. Whenever you’re ready, Vernon and I will welcome her with open arms.” 

That gave Elvis the push that he needed to ask you on a date, pushing his chair away from the table before grabbing his coat and the keys to his Lincoln. He wasn’t going to miss this opportunity, not by a long shot. “Where are ya going, baby? It’s late.” 

He turned to face his parents. Vernon wore a grin on his face, while Gladys looked confused. Elvis sucked in a breath, a toothy grin spreading across his lips. “‘m goin’ ta ask her on a date, I ain’t waitin’ any longer. Thank ya, Mama, Thank ya, Daddy.” 

Elvis shut the door behind him, not giving his parents any more time to keep him at the house longer than he wanted. He climbed into his old Lincoln, pushing the keys in the ignition before speeding away from Lauderdale Courts with only one thing on his mind. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to go to sleep that night without asking you out. The words that his parents had spoken at the dinner table rang in his mind as he drove to your address, but he was filled with so much excitement that he realized that he was nearing your home. 

He didn’t pull near your home in fear that he would get you into unnecessary trouble, turning the lights off of his car before getting out. He noticed that there was only one light on in the house, a smile crossing his lips as he realized that it was your room. He crept up to the proximity where he could get your attention. Elvis was filled with nervousness  each step that he took to your house, careful not to step on any object that would alert the neighborhood that he was creeping around your window. 

Elvis picked up a few pebbles from your flower bed, chucking a few towards your window. He sucked his teeth as a few missed your window, but he grew confident once he adjusted his aim. His eyes lingered towards your window, nerves eating up at his body as he took in your beautiful form making your way over to investigate the noise. He threw two more pebbles, smirking as you pulled your window open with a glare on your face. “Who is-?”

“It’s me.” You turned your eyes to look over the lanky boy who stood in your yard, pebbles in his hand and a lopsided smile on his lips. 

It surely couldn’t be the boy who you saw at the park, you thought. Your eyes adjusted to see that it was indeed the tall, lanky boy who wrestled in front of you the week prior. Your glare faltered from your face, becoming replaced with uneasiness at the fact that he was standing in front of you. You would have remembered giving him your address, but you haven’t been able to see him for days. Why was he here now? 

Surely, he must have known that you were looking all over Memphis for him. As you took in his goofy smile and his shimmering eyes, you forgot that you were standing in front of him in your nightgown. You reached over to grab your robe before tying it around your body before leaning out of the window to address the boy whose name you still didn’t know. 

“What are you doin’ here? It’s late, you know?” You giggled, placing your hands on the windowsill, leaning out to see that he was bouncing his legs like he was on fire. 

“I know what this looks like, darlin’. I must look like a creep standing at your house like this so late, but I’ve been lookin’ fer ya everywhere. Your friend told me where you lived so I wanted to come by to let ya know that I haven’t forgotten about ‘cha.” 

Trisha must’ve told him about how you were sitting in the park everyday around the same time looking for him. You made a note to tell her off once you saw her the following day, but you pushed that task to the back of your mind before returning the boy’s gaze. “Well, can I at least have the name of the boy who is standing in my yard? You ran off so fast the other day that I didn’t get the chance to ask.” 

“E-elvis, my name is Elvis.” The southern drawl caught your attention. 

You’ve never met a boy with such an unusual name, but you thought that it fit him. You giggled, rocking on your feet as you smiled softly down at him. “Well, Mister Elvis. I wanted to thank you for standing up for me the other day. I’m Y/N.” 

“I-I know. Y-your friend told me your name earlier today when she stopped me.” He stammered over his words, you could make out the pink tint of his cheeks as his eyes looked everywhere rather than at you. 

“I'm gonna kill Trisha.” You muttered, rolling your eyes at the fact that she was the one to tell him your name. 

“W-what was that, darlin’?” 

“Oh nothing, so may I ask why you’re here so late?” You asked, tilting your head, your curls falling in your eyes before you nervously moved them away so you could see him fully. 

“I-I was in the neighborhood a-and I-I-I wanted ta know if ya wanted to go out on a date with me? Y-ya don’t h-haveta s-say y-yes, I just felt like I w-would ask.” There he goes again stammering over his words, softly cursing under his breath as he figured he sounded like a fool stumbling in front of you like this. 

He looked up at you, twiddling his thumbs as he waited for any reaction that he could get from you. The silence bothered him, putting thoughts in his head that maybe he bit off more than he could chew until finally, you opened your mouth to speak. 

“I don’t see why not? When do you want to go on this said date?” You asked, your voice sounding like music to his ears. 

Elvis was stunned. He didn’t think that you would agree the first time, but he was so glad that you did. He thought for only a moment before tilting his head up to look at you, his blue eyes glowing with excitement. “Are ya free Saturday? We can meet on Beale Street, if that makes ya more comfortable? I-I-I don’t have any problems with anything ya agree with.” 

Your giggle reached Elvis’ ears once more, his heart fluttering in his chest as he took in your beautiful appearance. He could die happily tomorrow if all he heard last was your elegant laugh. “Saturday it is, Elvis. Now, go home! I don’t want to get caught by my parents talkin’ to a boy this late.” 

“I’ll see ya Saturday, darlin’. Goodnight.” He couldn’t keep his smile at bay, grinning up at you before stepping backwards almost tripping over his feet. 

He silently cursed once more, hearing your beautiful laugh grace his eardrums before waving at you as he walked away from your house. As he rounded the tall hedge of bushes that hid your house, he pumped his arm in victory. He couldn’t wait to get home and tell his parents that he would have a date. As he climbed into his car, he couldn’t keep his smile off of his face, excited for the rest of the week to pass so that he could see you once again. 

He made it back home safely, the smile still prevalent on his lips as he entered the living room where his mother was sitting with his grandmother, Dodger. He sank down on the couch, still holding on to his keys and his jacket. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t realize that his mother was calling his name. “Yes, mama?”

“How did it go, baby? Did she say yes?” Gladys laughed, patting his knee. 

“Mama, she’s so beautiful. I ain’t think that she would agree, but she did. Oh, mama, I can’t wait to see her again.” He spoke fast, not stopping once to catch his breath. 

“Calm down, baby. I knew that she wouldn’t say no to my boy, look at you. You’re such a sweetheart, I’m sure she will find that out for herself soon.” Elvis grinned in his mother’s direction, bouncing his knee as his thoughts returned to the brown-skinned beauty whose smile lit up his world. 

“I’m gonna go to bed, mama. I’ve got school in the mornin’.” He stood up from his seat, pressing a kiss to his mother’s cheek before going over to kiss his grandmother’s forehead. 

As he laid in bed, he couldn’t keep the smile away as he replayed the look in your eyes as he stuttered over his words. He couldn’t help himself, you were too pretty for him to let you slip out of his fingers. He knew that Saturday was a few days away, but he couldn’t wait any longer. He knew that he had to, but that didn’t mean that he liked the idea. As sleep overtakes him, the only thing that his mind replayed was the graceful sound of your laughter. 

The rest of the week went by slowly, much to the chagrin of you. You couldn’t stop thinking about the tall boy named Elvis who appeared at your home on Monday evening. Trisha picked at you, wanting to know what he talked to you about. You didn’t miss the time to also let her know that it wasn’t polite that she was the one to tell him your name or where you lived for the matter. In fact, you wanted to be the one to tell him yourself. 

“Come on, Y/N, would you have actually told him where you lived even if he asked you out on a date at that stupid park?” 

“That’s not important. I wanted to be the one to tell him things about me.” You retorted, tilting your hat properly on your head before turning to face her once more. 

You dismissed yourself from her, giving her a tiny smile before you made your way to the familiar park that became your second home. When you first found it, you were amazed at how much you felt free. Your parents weren’t ever home, leaving you to find your purpose on your own. Books became your main source of comfort in the time of loneliness; the words popping off of the page and becoming part of your world. 

You were in another world due to the romance novel that you had begun to read when the sun suddenly disappeared from your face. You tilted your head up to meet the icy blues of the boy that you had been thinking about. You thought that he looked handsome as he stood in your yard the other night, but nothing could have prepared you to see him up close and personal. Your eyes lingered on his face, a shy smile crossing your lips as you placed the novel in your hands beside you. 

“Good afternoon, peach. I thought I would find ya here.” 

You didn’t miss the hitching of your breath and the increase of your heartbeat at the name of endearment. You struggled to find the words to speak, but nevertheless, you pushed through. “Afternoon, Elvis. How can I help you?”

You mentally slapped yourself at how demure you sounded. You turned your face away from him for a short time before turning back to look at him. He still wore the same smile as he did when he was at your house, something that you were starting to like about him. You waited for only a short while, the silence sweet and welcoming as you stared into his blue eyes. 

“Well, I know that we are supposed to go on a date soon but I wanted ta come sit with ya for a while. Y-you don’t h-haveta agree, but I just wanted to.” He stammered, your face in awe at how flustered he became when he spoke to you. 

“I don’t see why you couldn’t. I brought some snacks, if you wanted to try them.” 

Elvis hummed, sitting next to you on your quilt. His eyes wandered over the different snacks that you made, a small smile lingering on his lips before he turned to face you once again. You could make out the small acne lines that littered his overall clear skin, his blue eyes shining beneath the sun before he parted his lips. 

“What are ya readin’ today?” He asked, pointing to the book that now laid beside you. 

“The Great Sophy, it’s written by Georgette Heyer. She’s one of my favorite authors, have you heard of it?”

He shook his head, waiting for you to continue with your thoughts of the novel. You were blown away at the fact that he was so interested in learning about the books that you were reading. The boys that you would talk to before him were never interested in the same things as you were, often dismissing your love for novels because they thought it was a bit unsuitable that a girl like you would indulge in childish books about romance. Elvis seemed to welcome it and more, wanting to learn more about you the more than he was around you.

“Well, the protagonist, Sophia travels with her father during the Napoleonic war because he’s known as a diplomat. After Napoleon is exiled, she follows her father to South America where he has taken up a temporary post. She gets along with most of her cousins when they arrived, but she doesn’t get along with one: Charles Rivenhall. He finds her annoying to put it lightly.” You started, your eyes never leaving Elvis’ as he soaked in your summary. 

“So Charles has a lot happening in his life. He assumed the role of the adult of his family due to his sickly mother and his gambling addict of a father. He’s also engaged to marry a woman who I think he doesn’t need to be with, Eugenia. She’s very spiteful, very tyrannical in a way. Sophia feels as if she needs to save the family, so she makes it her mission to solve the problems that are plaguing the family. According to where I am, she and Charles are supposed to fall in love with each other, although they don’t take to one another.” 

“But aren’t they cousins? That’s gross.” Elvis chuckles, picking up one of the strawberry cupcakes that you baked the night before. 

“I suppose that would be seen as gross in our time, but this story is written in 1816 so it wasn’t uncommon for familial romance. Although it is boorish, it’s still sweet that Sophia is willing to save his family. She doesn’t have anything to lose other than his fiance, Eugenia who has everything given to her.” 

“Do you see yourself like the character Sophia? Do you relate to her?” Elvis asked, catching you off guard. 

You turned back to look at him, mouth agape as you thought about the question that he had asked you. In most of the novels that you had read, you found yourself comparing the characters in the stories to your life. You could see some similarities between you and Sophia, minus the falling in love with your cousin. You would like to believe that you were independent and outgoing as she was. 

“In some aspects, yes. She’s very independent, outgoing, and elegant. I don’t know about the elegance part, but I am fairly independent and outgoing. My mama often calls me Goose because she says that I’m friendly and always wanting to keep people smiling.” You giggled, placing your hand over your mouth to keep yourself from embarrassing yourself any further. 

Elvis found you adorable, his cerulean hues staring into your cocoa eyes as he took in every word that you said. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to be speaking to such an intelligent soul such as yourself. Although he didn't often read books, he appreciated how you found such importance in the captivating stories that you read. He wanted to sit in your presence, hearing more about the books that you would read. He wanted to be in your embrace even without talking about the stories. 

He was enamored with you, wanting to be in your life as long as time allowed. He spent the rest of the afternoon learning things about you that made him like you even more. You were the only child; the child of a businessman and a nurse who were never at home until late at night, and you enjoyed everything that was made of strawberries and peaches. He found that the nickname ‘Peach’ fit you because you were fairly sweet. He adored you, often wondering how someone like you could ever be interested in a stuttering fool as himself. 

Soon, the day had come to an end and Elvis needed to return home before his mother sent a search party to look for him. He didn’t want to leave your side, but it was far too dangerous for you to be out when it got dark. “Would you mind if I took ya home, peach?” 

“That’s very nice of you, Elvis. I wouldn’t mind at all.” 

That was all Elvis needed to hear before he helped you gather your things, leading you over to his car that sat in the front of the park. He opened your door, helping you inside before he placed your things in the backseat. On the ride over to your place, Elvis continued the conversation but this time, he allowed you to ask him questions about himself. He found himself telling you things that not even his parents knew about him, finding that being in your presence was effortless. You were so pleasant to talk to, he wanted nothing more than to continue. 

As he made it to your house, he stopped in front of the driveway before clearing his throat. “I could pick ya up tomorrow for our date s-s-so ya won’t haveta walk. Does 4 o’clock work for you?” 

“It does, I had a great time today. Thank you for keeping me company, Elvis. You’re such a delight, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You softly retorted, gathering your quilt and the tupperware that now was empty from Elvis eating most of your snacks. 

You exited his car, waving goodbye as you made it inside of your house. The beating of your heart never ceased as you laid against the door. Elvis was surely different, so easy to talk to and so polite. You weren’t sure where he came from, but you were so conflicted about letting him in. Yes, he was sweet and very attentive to the words that you said but he was also white. You weren’t the type to think about skin color being a flaw, but it was because of the time that you were living in that you had to take that into consideration. 

What would his parents think about their son courting someone of a different skin tone as him? You already knew that your parents didn’t care about a person’s race, only reminding you that it was what was on the inside that counted. Your parents would love Elvis, he was very sweet and he seemed to have a good head on his shoulders. You didn’t know if his parents would respect their son’s decisions to see a black woman, let alone a woman of her status. You were also concerned about what society would think if you were seen with Elvis, making the upcoming date much more alarming. 

Only time could tell where this would lead, so you decided that you would give Elvis a try and would worry about the rest at a later time. 

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[sprinklesdonut15]

Character Stuff I’m Personally Knowledgeable About

There are good and bad stims - By stims I mean that burst of energy or ticks that you usually hear about in autistic people. There are happy stims, nervous stims, etc. But sometimes they can be harmful, even if they’re happy, because in reality it’s kind of like an uncontrollable energy

Some people really hate their glasses - I have a mild prescription so I can afford to take them off. And I do. All the time. I push them up all the time. I can see every smudge. Every. Smudge. They get in the way sometimes. They get tangled in my hair. Glasses are annoying

Depression comes in waves - Most people I know have depression and most people know about it already. But for those who don’t - the internet isn’t lying about being happy while you’re depressed. And depressive episodes aren’t all the same, they can be different, like every episode for me doesn’t always mean I stop eating, just most episodes are like that. Nothing about it falls into one stereotype

Anything abnormal hurts - okay this one isn’t always true. Personally my feet are not how they’re supposed to be and I have to wear bigger shoes and either way it usually hurts. Walking a lot hurts. Anything about my body that isn’t normal usually hurts, even if it’s not visibly any different

Tinnitus is also annoying - I can tell you that the constant ringing fades. But I can also say that there are just like random bursts of awful ringing as if a bomb just went off next to me. Yes this is painful. It doesn’t last long but personally I can’t hear anything much while it’s happening either.

Some stereotypes are close to true - specifically adhd, you hear it’s more than just “oh look a squirrel” and while yes this is true and applies to me, I am still absolutely the “look it’s a squirrel” type. And the mood swings are crazy

Also in general when are girls (and yes the long list of transwomen and no binary folk etc) ever inconvenienced by periods in their stories? Y’all look that shit up especially you men everything you think you know about periods is probably fucking wrong