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#WHERE CAN I GET THE RAT SHOES
bilbosmom-belladonna · 4 months
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Whoops, my hand slipped and I wrote another Steddie ficlet! Also posted on AO3.
The Best Defense
“Hey, freak!”
Eddie froze, the bag of groceries clutched in his hands. Steve's head popped up from where he was putting the other bag in the trunk.
Andy Johnson was headed their way, a look on his face that made Eddie's eyes go wide.
“You got some nerve showing your face around here, freak!” Andy shouted as he approached, pointing a menacing finger.
Steve calmly plucked the bag from Eddie's nerveless fingers, dropped it in the trunk, and smoothly stepped between him and Andy.
“Back off, Johnson,” Steve said, his chin held high.
“You think I'm scared of you, Harrington?” Andy scoffed. “You ain't shit, pretty boy. Daddy's money can't protect you here.”
He glanced over his shoulder, where Eddie could see a group of varsity jackets starting to move closer. Eddie shrank back a little, wishing he could be anywhere else.
Steve cocked his head to the side, just watching for a minute as Andy puffed. Then he reached into the trunk, pulled out his nailbat, and slung it casually against his shoulder.
“Don't think I'll use Daddy's money,” Steve said with a shrug. He dropped the bat into his other hand and twirled it. “Think I'll use this instead.”
Andy blanched. His eyes nervously darted between the bat and Steve. Eddie could see there was still a little bit of dried monster blood on the nails.
For once in his life, Andy did the smart thing. He started backing away, huffing like Steve was the one being ridiculous, but guys like that always want to get the last word.
“Yeah, well, you better keep an eye on your rat-faced little boyfriend, Harrington,” he threatened. “You can't defend him forever.” He backed up a few more steps before he quickly returned to his friends.
Steve turned and looked at Eddie, an affronted look on his face. “Can you believe that guy?”
Eddie winced. “Hey, man, thanks,” he said weakly. “I'm sorry about that.”
“Nah, forget him,” Steve said as he closed the trunk, the nailbat still in one hand. He shook his head. “I just don't get why he would say something like that about you.”
Eddie grimaced, all too aware of the (entirely true) rumors about his sexuality. He didn't want something like that coming down on Steve; he was a good guy, he didn't deserve to get any more tangled up in Eddie's mess than he already was.
“I mean, what the hell was that about?” Steve continued indignantly. “You are not rat-faced.” He scoffed.
Eddie blinked for a minute. “You—” he licked his lips. “What—Steve, what about the other—”
Steve opened his door and sat down.
“I—he called me your—” Eddie stammered. He stood stupidly by the trunk, shoes stuck to the pavement.
Steve closed his door and beeped the horn.
“What—”
“Get in, Munson!” Steve called, leaning out the window with a grin. “The ice cream’s gonna melt.”
Eddie got in. He looked nervously at Steve and licked his lips again.
“Seatbelt,” Steve prompted as he checked his mirrors. He turned to face Eddie as soon as his seatbelt was buckled. Eddie looked back at him
“We'll drop this stuff off with Wayne,” Steve said, “and then I'm taking you out to dinner. My treat.” He reached out and ran his thumb over Eddie's cheek, then turned back to start the car. “Rat-faced,” he muttered disdainfully under his breath as they pulled out of the parking lot.
If you held a gun to his head later, Eddie would never be able to tell you a single thing about the rest of that drive.
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hairmetal666 · 4 months
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It's 3am. It's pouring down rain. Steve's soaked to the skin, been wandering the city for most of the night, hasn't slept in almost 24 hours, thinks maybe he's on the brink of delirium, and then a truck hits a pool of ponded water, sending a muddy wave cascading over him.
He just wants to go home but Dustin lost his dog and he can't leave a puppy out in this weather.
Steve steps off the curb, and what looks like a shallow puddle turns out to be a water-filled hole. He crashes towards the pavement, nothing he can do to stop it. As fast he's falling, he's miraculously not, arms wrapped around his waist. It takes a second for his brain to catch up, to understand that he's being held upright in an old-fashioned, romantic dip.
"Careful, sweetheart," a deep and smoke raspy voice says from above him.
it sends chills down his spine, the good kind, and warmth slips through him. His rescuer is a solid 10 knockout. Long, curly hair; eyeliner; decked out in leather and studs and chains. He smells like booze and cigarettes and weed, and it's intoxicating. Steve has to fight the instinct to nuzzle the guy's leather jacket. He's beautiful, holds Steve with the swagger only a guy with rings on every finger could pull off.
And Steve is a mud soaked mess in sweatpants and a threadbare Hawkins High tee. But the guy holding him isn't letting go. He stares down at Steve, brown eyes wide.
"Steve!" A voice calls over the patter of the rain.
"Dustin?" He says at the same time that the man holding him says, "Henderson?"
"Eddie?" Dustin asks.
"Wait, dnd Eddie?" Steve gets his feet under him, but Eddie's arms don't drop.
"You're the famous babysitter Steve I've been hearing all about?"
They gape at each other until Dustin reaches them.
"What are you still doing out here?" Dustin shouts. "We found Dart hours ago."
"Dustin!" He thinks he might cry. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"You weren't answering your walkie!"
"Fuck." Steve drops his face to his hand. The walkie. Which is on the table by the front door where he and Robin leave their keys.
Steve swallows his frustration, the misery of waterlogged shoes, having to be up to open the store in a few hours, meeting the hottest guy he's ever seen when he looks like a drowned rat.
"I promised I'd find Dart, didn't I? Now what the hell are you doing out so late?"
"Mom and I were looking for you!"
"Let's get you back to the car, man, okay?" Steve says to Dustin. He wants to end this weird, terrible, embarrassing night before it gets even more humiliating.
"I can give you a ride home," Eddie says. He's got this weird, intense look on his face, staring at Steve.
"I'm only a few blocks away. I'll be fine. C'mon, Henderson."
"Oh, I can walk him. You head home."
He nods, starts towards his apartment, but turns back just in time to see Eddie and Dustin share a look he can't parse.
---
A few days later, Dustin's following him around at work, chattering about dnd as Steve shelves books, and without taking a breath during a soliloquy about owl bears, says, "Eddie's running a one-shot for us next week. You should come! It's a great way to get into the game."
"I'm not playing dnd," Steve answers. He slides a book onto the shelf. "I've told you this."
"Yeah, but you liked Eddie, right? He'd help you out!"
Steve squints at the kid. "I didn't really meet Eddie to know. Anyway, I'm sure he doesn't want a newbie crashing."
Steve is pretty sure Eddie doesn't like him, based on their short introduction, so he's not interested in forcing himself into the guy's dnd club. The night they met was humiliating enough, Steve in all his dorky glory.
"No, he totally wouldn't care. C'mon, Steve!"
"No can do." He ruffles Dustin's hair as he walks away.
He thinks that'll be the end of it, but every few days, for weeks Dustin and all the rest of the kids stop at the store to beg him to join their dnd club.
---
Steve is working the register and he hears the shuffling clank of a customer, looks up and finds Eddie. He's staring at Steve with that same look from the night they met, intense and piercing, cutting straight through the heart of him. He feels himself start to blush.
The first thing out of Eddie's mouth is, "Wait, this is your store?"
"Yeah?" Steve asks. "Is that--is that weird?"
"No! Not at all. It's a good store. Cute." His nose wrinkles when he says it and Steve's blush grows hotter. He knew Eddie thought he was a dork.
"Cute. Yeah. Right. Can I help you with something?"
Eddie rocks back on his heels, hands going to the pockets of his leather jacket, sending his chains jingling. "Oh, so, actually I wanted to see if you were busy?"
"Yeah, man. I'm busy." He laughs, doesn't intend to be mean about it, but he and Robin only opened the store six months ago and both take night classes at the local community college. Plus, everything he does with the kids.
Eddie's face flushes bright. "Oh, sure, of course. Yeah, I--I'll see you around."
The door thunks to a close behind him, and a voice immediately pops up to ask, "What the hell was that?"
He turns to find Max Mayfield hands on hips, glaring up at him, Robin close behind.
"Shouldn't you be in school?"
Max rolls her eyes and strides up to the counter. "Why were you an asshole to Eddie?"
"He started it!"
"I highly doubt that."
"Okay, Ms. Know-it-all, why don't you tell me what happened?"
"I know for a fact that Eddie came in today to ask you out. So, tell me, Steve Harrington, why he rushed out of here looking like a kicked puppy?"
"What?" He yelps. "Eddie doesn't even like me!"
She glares. "Doesn't like you? He's been pathetic about you since you met."
He gapes at Robin. "Don't look at me," she shrugs. "But that guy was definitely here to ask you out."
"Fix it." Max commands as she stomps out the door. "He bar tends at that metal place on 68th."
---
It's just after 9pm and he's at the metal bar on 68th, decidedly out of place in the yellow t-shirt and jeans he wore to his business accounting class.
It's fairly busy for a weeknight, but Eddie's not hard to find. He's obviously in his element, bobbing his head to a song Steve's never heard as he mixes a drink.
With a hard swallow and a healthy dose of humility, he walks up to the bar.
"Be right--" Eddie starts, balking when he notices Steve.
"Can we talk?" he shouts over the music.
Eddie's eyes widen a little, but he nods, slips out from behind the bar to guide him to an employee exit.
"What's up, Steve?" Eddie asks. His hands are in his pockets, shoulders bowed in.
"I wanted to apologize."
"What for?"
"Earlier, I--when you said the store was cute I thought you were making fun of me."
"But--why?"
"I thought you didn't like me." Steve cringes at the admission.
"What?" He laughs.
"I don't know. We met in the middle of the night and I was covered in mud looking for a dog that wasn't lost anymore."
"Steve. Holy shit." Eddie shakes his head. "You looked gorgeous that night. The way your clothes were sticking--you know what? Never mind. Did you think I wanted you to come to dnd because I hated you?"
"You wanted me to come?"
"Dustin didn't..."
"No! And he's been asking me to play dnd weekly for the past five years."
"Jesus Christ," Eddie slumps agains the brick wall at his back. "No wonder you turned me down today."
"To be fair," Steve slumps next to him. "If I had realized you were asking me out, I wouldn't have turned you down."
"No?" Eddie asks. His brown eyes gleam.
"Definitely not. I've had a crush on you since that night. Sort of devastating since I thought you didn't like me." Steve runs his hand through his hair, watches Eddie track the movement.
"The store is cute, Steve. I--uh--I've been a few times. Back before I knew you were the owner! I just kept seeing a hot employee with great hair and a perfect ass, and the vaguely mean lesbian barista gives me free drinks."
"That's Robin," Steve says. He's smiling so hard.
"I know that now," Eddie smiles back. "Sorry for being an idiot."
"Me too." Steve nods. "Do you--could I still come to dnd? Or take you out sometime?"
"Why not both?" Dimples pop on Eddie's cheeks, and Steve's heart flips.
"I like both." They're still against the wall, but drifting into each other's space.
"So Dustin said."
It surprises a laugh out of Steve. "I'm gonna kill him."
"Too bad. He's a nice kid."
"Eh, we've got six more to choose from."
"I have a few more hours here, but there's a diner down the street that does some of the most mediocre pancakes I've ever tasted. Meet me there? Around 2?"
"A thousand lost puppies wouldn't make me miss it."
The next time Steve is out at 3am he's pressed against a building, Eddie kissing him so thoroughly he knows he's never recovering from this one.
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pearlymel · 1 month
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"The Masks We Wear"
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Summary: as a journalist, you are itching to find the identity of this mysterious hero. But could it be that the hero is closer to you than you think?
Wc: 7.3k eat up
Warnings: Wriothesley x afab!reader, gn! reader, modern au, hero and villian au (one of each), reader is a journalist/cameraman, fluff, making out, crack (i laughed a lot writing this), angst (oops), one small sex scene, slightly under the influence, cursing, it's pretty unrealistic, petnames used: sunshine, love, and sweetheart.
Notes: i poured my heart and soul into this, i think it's my best piece so far ^^ give it a chance, maybe you'll love it. (Pleasepleasepleaseplease) Rbs are greatly appreciated!
Credits: banner art by the great @/danijaci
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Click!
The city is absolutely beautiful today. No, no. It’s not because of the lights that makes the place brighter and a bit more magical, how it seems livelier with a group of teenagers laughing together while buying street foods together, or the old couple that seem still very much in love, the gentleman kneeling down and tying her shoes just to make sure she wouldn’t trip this time.
Humans can be cute, you think.
But of course, among those innocent ‘humans’ are those who desire destruction.
This time, you think you might have caught something in the shadows, and you stare intently at your camera, zooming it in to see the faintest color blending in with the darkness. Hair? A part of clothes? You don’t know, but you got it.
you have this obsession of finding out who the hero of this city was, or even the villian. Although, you would be technically be walking into death if you try finding out who the villian is.
Where did this hero come from? No one knows. Sure the crime rate has lowered, but it felt like the world became even more messed up.
It all started a couple of years ago when you were in your college days, one day almost dying from a falling building, and you thought you saw the scythe waiting to take your soul at that very moment but, no.
The mysterious hero of the city that you never thought you would never encounter carried the building with his super strength power, apparently.
He who has no name, took your hand and lead you into a safer area with the police.
cliché story, right. But that’s what got you into journalism and media now.
And let’s say… you’re too far into the deep black hole to back down now.
The almost blinding light made you come back to your senses, the sounds of engine roaring in the air as the bike approached you, and your shoulders were already slumped.
“How did you find me?” You raise your voice due to the loud engine running, covering parts of your vision from the light.
“Lucky guess.” Wriothesley replied gruffly, pulling his helmet off and shaking his head slightly to fix up his messy strands.
“Care to explain what on earth are you doing here in this shady alleyway? At nine thirty where the moon is out and wolves could be coming for you?” He starts scolding you, quirking an eyebrow when you give him the bored expression, and he immediately mimics it back.
“Taking pictures.”
“Of the rats?”
“Wriothesley.” You shoot him a look and he raises his hands in the air. “I understand your… obsession. But it could hurt you in the process, mentally and physically.”
You know he’s saying all this because he cares so much about you. Loves you too much that it would break his soul piece by piece if one day what you’re doing will hurt you.
“Hop in, sweetheart.” He hands you the extra helmet, and you take it with a sigh. Securing it around your head before taking your place behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist as he revved the engine.
The whole ride back was silent, yet traffic, which entirely ruined the whole mood. With the constant car horns ringing in your ear.
You tap at his thigh to grab his attention, “Why’s it traffic?” You grumble, rising yourself from the seat to look at the row of cars trying to get through.
“Not any holidays or events i can think of,” he responds back to you.
Red mixed with orange fills your vision, suddenly the car at the very front explodes. The car parts flying in the air and landing at the other vehicles which makes you frozen in shock.
Wriothesley’s clenches his hands tightly as he turns the bike around, speeding his way far away from the scene. “Hold onto me tight, and don’t look back, you hear?” He yells enough to grab your attention, and your arms tightens around him, but you have your head turned around to see the people yelling and dashing out of the vehicles. You want to capture the moment with your phone so you could submit it in for the news, but you know more than to ignore Wriothesley right now.
It’s not rare to see destruction happen in your city, it’s just… terrifying every time anybody witnesses it.
Maybe it wasn’t an accident, maybe it was planned.
“You’re not allowed to go out after seven.” Wriothesley makes it clear to you with his firm tone as you both step inside your shared apartment, locking the apartment with a click. He then tosses his keys into a bowl on a small table, before turning to look at you.
“Are you seriously setting a curfew for me? Please. what happened was not new—”
Your face is now being cradled by his rough hands, but the way he swipes a thumb under your eyebags really makes you melt. And you forget what you were going to say when his lips curl the slightest.
“I don't want anything happening to you. Ever.” He takes you in his arms, holding you like you were the most precious thing he ever held. “I didn't mean to pressure you like that. I'd hate it if you were in the position of those injured people.”
You pat his back to reassure him that hopefully nothing like that will happen. “And, if, hypothetically, something like that happened; What would y—”
“I'll kill everyone.” he doesn't even let you continue before he answers, though the chuckle against your hair followed after makes your tense shoulders relax.
“maybe not to that extent,” he lifts your head up to lean in and press a tender kiss on your forehead.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
“what is it?”
“… something or someone.”
Your boss gives you a nonchalant sharp look when you eagerly showed him the bits you managed to capture last night before you were interrupted by your great boyfriend.
His eyes squints at the more of a blurred photo that sits on the display of your camera, taking the glasses that hanged from his collar.
The sigh afterwards makes you feel discouraged when he hands you back your camera.
“i see it.” He starts and you perk up immediately.
“it looks like a blurred image of a fucking bird taking a shit on the electrical cords.” You press your lips into a thin line at his description. Too detailed of a description,
what a bastard.
It.. certainly didn't look like that.
You clear your throat, pinching the bridge of your nose to compose yourself.
“You're lucky i like your determination or you would've been fired,” he utters out in a lax tone, resting his glasses on his big bald head that you want to spill with ketchup.
“Keep looking, i need the hero's face, details, anything. Just think of the money you and i could both earn.” He seems too enthusiastic about it, showing you determination with his fists pressing together and his wide ear to ear smile.
You leave work early that day, starting your daily walk of looking around for at least two hours or—one hour?
No, Wriothesley would be too worried if you came back after… nine. Your words not his.
You need to rearrange a schedule in your head.
Step one: somehow convince your boss that you need to leave early everyday.
Step two: search every nook and cranny of the city, ask every shady person if they get to talk to the hero in person or got a glimpse of his name.
Step three: go to the dark web— is that car flying infront of you right now?!
Shit. Just why does everything have to go down wherever path you go?
The people around you panics, and you equally panic with them because you're no fucking hero to tell them to get away from that flying car.
You take your camera out hurriedly from its case that slung around your shoulder, pressing record while frantically looking around. The ground shakes, it shakes so much that it feels like an earthquake almost.
“it's him! The villian!” Someone shouts from the distance, and just like that the screams that follows are in sync.
You know why the ground shook, the street has become a battlefield for the hero and villain fighting together with all their strengths, the air is filled with tension as they both clash in an epic confrontation. The ground trembles beneath your feet again as they traded blows, sending shockwaves through the battlefield. The once tranquil street has now been transformed into a chaotic arena of power and destruction. As the battle rages on. The hero and villain continue their fight, each strike more powerful than the last, their movements a blur of speed and precision.
You try capturing anything with your camera, but your hand shakes that it was impossible. When the villian lands a powerful punch on the hero’s shoulder, sending him way back, it makes you think it's time to leave.
You run with the rest without stubbornness this time. You should've listened to Wriothesley, why did you always have to be so curious about everything?
This curiousity will kill you next after the cat.
“Taxi!” You shout, waving your hand at the yellow vehicle, but every taxi seems to ignore the people's pleas, determined to save themselves instead.
Guess it's time to burn calories and run back home.
You were a panting mess once you reached back to your comfort space, eyes zeroing at the running television in the living room. Watching the newscaster talk about today's battle and how it affected the shops and buildings.
It seems like the battle lasted twenty minutes before the villian gave up and fled away.
Your head snaps to the bathroom once you hear the sink water drip, you didn't even think if he would be here this early.
“Wriothesley,” you say breathlessly when you swing the door open, arms squeezing his side as you take a deep breath in.
“woah, easy there. What happened?” He takes you in, hand rubbing at your arm.
“i was…” nevermind. Maybe you shouldn't tell him what you have witnessed, he'll know once he checks the news.
You only realise that he was chest bared at the moment, and you furrow your eyebrows once you see a bruise on his shoulder.
“What happened?” It was your turn to ask, talking a gentle finger and running it over the bruise, earning a hiss from him.
“was changing the car oil at the repair shop.” He mumbles, gaze turning to the mirror, “then accidentally hit my shoulder once i got up.” he turns his arm, swinging it slowly.
“but you don't work at a car repair shop?”
“it's a side hustle, sunshine.”
“why didn't you tell me?” You press on, and he hangs his head low, both of his hands gripping the sink bowl.
Okay, maybe you have annoyed him a little too much now. Upon sensing your incoming apology, Wriothesley smiles at you.
“don't worry your pretty little head too much. The bruise will fade.”
“i can massage you later?” You offer, and he lets out a breathy chuckle. “You're the best.” He gives you a chaste kiss on your lips on his way out, which makes you feel a little fuzzy.
The evening gave way to the night sky, and you found yourself lying on the bed, replaying the video captured on your camera. The footage was far from perfect, shaky and lacking in clarity, but it still managed to capture fragments of the intense confrontation between the hero and the villain. You couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement as you watched the brief glimpses of the clash that had taken place earlier.
How the villian managed to blow a punch on the hero’s shoulder, sending him way back. Must've hurted.
It's almost like the same spot Wriothesley got his bruise on.
Wait, the same spot?  You sit up on the mattress, replaying the video on repeat of their fight.
The hero was about the same height as him, the same physique, same cake—
You shake your head, focus. Wriothesley can't be the hero, no that's impossible. He was a busy man, doing… side jobs and whatnot.
Sure he was kind, always helping everyone, even walking the neighbors dog because they got sick one day.
But then again… you never saw Wriothesley and the hero at the same time,
Or was it merely a coincidence, a random alignment of physical features?
“Sunshine?” You gasp when you snap your head up to find Wriothesley leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed.
“y-yes?” You set the camera aside on top of the drawer. He moves closer, seating himself on the edge of the bed, his eyes fixated on you then glancing at he camera.
“dinner's ready.”
You nod, silence fills the room after. You know he's waiting for you tell him more, on why you were so shocked.
“was looking at the hero's pictures.”
“not mine? I'm wounded.”
You roll your eyes, a slow smile creeping up your face, and he loves it. He takes it as an invitation to lean closer, suddenly pinning you down on the bed to capture your lips with his.
It's slow, and gentle. It makes you hum softly, taking his face in your hands to kiss him back, moving your lips together until you were gasping for air.
You forget you were even suspicious of him a second ago.
Your fingers lightly trace his jawline and you feel the pricks of his growing facial hair. A small smile plays on your lips as you inform him in a soft tone, "You need to shave." Wriothesley chuckles softly, the sound warm and low. He reaches up to your hand, gently taking hold of it and bringing it to his lips, pressing a kiss on your palm. "Is that why you stopped kissing me?" He says, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "No! I find you more.. attractive. Plus it.. yeah, it feels like little needles on my face.” you admit quietly.
Wriothesley presses his face into your neck, his lips tracing soft kisses along your skin. His hands begin roving your body, each touch sending a gentle shiver across your flesh. He whispers quietly next to your ear, his voice low and smooth as he responds, "I'll shave after dinner." The sensations of his lips against your neck and his hands exploring your body mix together, creating a heady combination that heightens your senses and ignites a slow fire within you.
“I'll.. help.” You whisper, bringing both of your arms to wrap them around his back. “What a sweetheart.” he uttered out, voice muffled from trying to mold into your skin.
Your mind stops working for a second when he presses his knee gently between your legs to pull them apart, “Wriothesley, what about dinner?” You frantically ask him, tugging his hair up so both of your gazes could meet. And the almost drunken expression he has on makes you let out a shaky breath.
“later,” he drawls, his fingers tracing lazily along your sides.
Hero? Pftt, what hero? This is just your wriothesley, it's quite impossible for him to be the hero.
You snap out of your daydream when your colleague hands you a cup of coffee, he raises an eyebrow at you and you smile back awkwardly.
A sip of the coffee to get a bit of energy, but only just a bit, since too much caffeine makes you nervous.
“You filmed the crazy battle yesterday?” Your colleague sneaks from behind you, watching the video replay again on your camera.
“they do movies about them now, insane huh?”
“well atleast the hero knows he's popular.” You reply bluntly, taking anothsr sip from your hot beverage.
“flash news, someone heard that his name starts with the letter ‘W’ or som—”
You spit out your coffee all over your white attire. You both exchange surprised looks, but you quickly wipe your mouth using the back of your hand.
“where exactly did you hear that?” You get straight to the point, gesturing them to sit next to you.
“from my father's friend’s cousin sister.”
His reply makes your eyes twitch, from who and who?
“Okay…” you whisper, turning around and thinking of the utter nonsense they spouted.
“you don't believe me.” he sighed, “I've been telling this to everyone in the building but no one is believing me! Just tryna’ do my job here.”
Let's say maybe you believe him. But the dots are connecting too fast that you want to refuse from believing it.
Was your target closer to you than you had expected?
“I'm clocking out, can you cover for me today?” You inform your colleague, and he crosses his arms while eyeing you up and down.
Your roll your eyes, “I'll be the cameraman for next week. So you could get three days off.” You force a smile and they smile back enthusiastically.
Wriothesley is definitely home. Earlier than the usual time he'd be back.
Oh, he's asleep on the couch. Leaning back tiredly with an almost stern expression on, but his body seems relaxed.
Now is the time to do anything. Investigate? Go through his things without his permission? That sounded all awful… surely he's not hiding any—
“go search his things.” You furrow your eyebrows when the devil on your left shoulder speaks, it makes you rub your face in annoyance.
Then a sudden white little angel poofs on your right shoulder with a disappointed face, “no, don't do it. He's a little scary when he gets mad. But he'd never betray you!” you feel reassured at it's words and you nod in agreement.
“don't listen to it. He could hurt you if you keep it a secret.” The red devil whispers again and it makes you shiver a bit.
“he would never hurt you.” The angel frowns.
“yes he would, he's a man.”
“a good man.”
“yeah? You're no better than me, you just want that—”
“okay shut up both of you. Shoo.” You brush both of your shoulders off before taking a deep breath to brace yourself.
You'll just search his.. clothes.
You feel guilty once you pocket his jackets and pants in his side of the wardrobe, checking every hidden pocket thoroughly while glancing at the door once in a while to make sure he doesn't wake up.
As your fingers brush against his jacket, you notice an unusual sensation – a cool, metal feeling hidden underneath the fabric. Your eyes widen in surprise as you recognize it to be the form of a gun's handle. A mixture of curiosity and concern floods through you, freezing you in place.
It really is a gun. You study it carefully, turning it around and feeling it's heaviness in your palm.
But you feel your heart run out of your ribcage when two pairs of arms wrap tightly around you, his chin resting on your shoulder.
Shit.
“hi,” he whispers next to your ear, but you're too nervous to even look back at him.
“nice thing you got there.” He muses, and you feel like you're losing oxygen once he tightens his grip around you even more.
“… i just found it.” You mutter, mostly to yourself. Your head hanging too low to avoid his eyes.
“Could've just asked me, no?” He clicks his tongue, almost in disappointment.
“i have it on me because—”
“because you use it for the good, right? Because you're the hero?” Your voice is shaky when you ask, the gun in your hand shaking with you, and you're afraid to drop it.
“hero?” Wriothesley repeats, shaking you gently awake and you gasp harshly, taking in big breaths, your boyfriend immediately trying to soothe you.
it was a dream.
“you were mumbling something about a hero in your sleep. Are you okay?” He asks in concern, brushing a strand off your face. You were sweating too much for your liking.
“when did i get here?” You look around, taking your palms to rub the sleepiness off. “Right when you got off work. You slept on the bed without changing your clothes.”
Oh… so you never checked his clothes. Deciding to just sleep instead.
Your head turns back to the wardrobe, staring at it intently. Could the jacket be in the same arrangement as you found it in your dream? Or will the gun also be there?
“you're going to poke a hole through it if you keep staring.” He stifles a laugh, and you couldn't help but try to smile as well. “Drink up. Slow sips.” He offers you a glass of water, and you hold the glass firmly in your hand.
“so… what was your dream about? Even this hero appears in your dreams? Can't say I'm not jealous.”
“You'll have grey hairs too early from overthinking.” You tease, sitting upright in bed, “oh no, you already do, old man.” you frown, tracing the grey strands along with his black hair. He watches in amusement.
Wriothesley lets out a deep sigh, “give your old man a break. They're a badge of wisdom and experience,” he rests his head on your lap, nuzzling close as you massage his scalp.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
“Breaking news: the ‘’lola” flower shop sets on fire just three hours ago. Our dear hero saves the day yet again, protecting the old lady just in time before her shop explodes. The cause of the fire is still unknown…”
Destruction out of nowhere again. Accidents out of nowhere again.
The voice of the newscaster on the television fades away in this little diner you're in. You drive your attention away from it, instead focusing now on the Polaroid pictures laid out infront of you.
The hero always wore a mask to cover his identity, obviously. But even after watching the countless of interviews he had, the deep tone slightly matches Wriothesley’s voice, or maybe he's changing his tone on purpose. You can see it by zooming in on the video, how he's catching his breath everytime he speaks when he's just sitting down.
Asthma? Nah.
You tap your fingers impatiently on the table, this is not helping at all, and the slightest itch in your brain worsens as the time goes by.
You think about giving up on this, but the possibility of finding the answer on how or why did all of this happen is probably closer to you than you think.
“Bad guys never end with their schemes. Bunch of attention seekers.” The hero speaks on the television, and you hum curiously as the hero salutes the camera playfully before disappearing from the crowd.
Is it possible that there are multiple heros? Working all together in some basement and taking turns to go out and do a better job than the police?
Possibly, and you write down your new theories down on your little notepad.
You check your phone next, Wriothesley still hasn't answered you back from your most recent text to him.
It's nothing to worry about, but the thought that he's busy saving the city is gnawing at you.
Batman?
You shake your head again, gathering your things to stand up from your seat. You should be blunt asking him about it tonight.
It's cold. Colder than usual. Was the air conditioning on? No. But the windows are sure wide open. You look around the living room before closing the windows and curtains from the outside world, as you draw the curtains, the outside world becomes obscured, leaving the room in a soft semi-darkness.
“Wriothesley, honey?” You call out softly, peeking through the bathroom, not there. The bedroom? Nope.
That leaves the kitchen, you slowly peek your head in he kitchen, and sure enough, he was there.
Wriothesley was rubbing his face in exhaustion while mumbling words under his breath that you can't quite hear. Having one singular glass of some drink in his hand.
“hero this.. hero that..” you finally listen to his mumbles, which makes you furrow your eyebrows together.
"Wrio...?" You call out softly, flipping the switch to turn on the light. His sharp eyes immediately dart up to look at you, and you can't help but shiver under his intense stare. You let out a small gasp of surprise as he suddenly stands up, the glass in his hand slipping from his grip and shattering on the ground along with its contents.
Taken aback by his sudden movement, you instinctively take a step back as he approaches you. But before you can even register what's happening, he crashes his lips against yours in a hasty, rushed kiss. Caught off guard, you cling tightly to him, desperately seeking support to prevent yourself from toppling over.
“You love me,” Wriothesley's voice breaks through the heated kiss, his words coming out in a low, guttural groan. He grips the back of your thighs, hoisting you up against the wall and wrapping your legs around his waist. “right?” His voice holds a hint of vulnerability and desperation, as if seeking reassurance and affirmation of your feelings for him.
And when you don't answer him right away, he takes your lower lip between his teeth, nipping at it gently, “answer me.” He almost growls.
“love, what are you taking about? Are you drunk?” You ask breathlessly in concern, your lips feeling swollen.
His jaw clenches, “Why can't you say it?” he inhales your perfume, your scent filling him that it makes him groan, his mouth lavishing your neck and collarbone, leaving kisses and littering marks then soothing the area with his tongue that it makes your pant softly, pressing your face into his hair while your fingers weaving through his black-greyish strands.
“i love you,” you utter quietly, and it suddenly makes him start grinding his hardened length against you. “I'm sorry in advance, sweetheart.”
One minute you're confused about his words, and then the next he's pounding so hard into you like there was no tomorrow.
Strings of “don't leave me,” and “i love you’s,” are echoed in the air. Wriothesley's mouth moves against yours with a sense of urgency and haste, his tongue gliding and tangling with yours in a fervent dance. The bed creaks so loud underneath you that you think it might break anytime, the embarrassment of the headboard banging against the wall immediately gone once he hits your sweet spot rapidly.
Poor neighbors
"Wrio... Wriothesley?” you slowly flutter your eyes open, still in the hazy realm between sleep and wakefulness. The sunlight streams through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room, and you blink a few times as you take in your surroundings. A quiet sense of contentment washes over you as you remember the events of the night before, the memories of Wriothesley's body against yours and his lips on yours still fresh in your mind.
You prop yourself up using your elbows, only to look down at the sight of your sleeping lover with his head pressed up on your chest. You collapse back on the bed with a tired sigh.
You still couldn't understand the reasoning behind his.. desperate actions last night. He seemed so pent up and stressed, you'll forgive him this time.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• It's the day where you're covering for your colleague, being the cameraman for tonight's news. Yes, tonight.
Wriothesley would kill you if he knew you were working so late at night, but only because he cares about your safety. Good thing he's out of the city for a day.
Or he claims to be out of the city for some important work.
You press the button on your video camera, adjusting the lens to focus on the newscaster standing in front of the camera, holding the microphone with a serious expression. The news van is parked in front of a desolate, run-down neighborhood known for its high crime rate and dangerous reputation. The newscaster speaks into the camera, her eyes boring into the lens as she reports on the neighborhood.
“We are now standing in the heart of one of the most dangerous areas in the city. This neighborhood is notorious for its high crime rate and volatile atmosphere.”
Your senses are heightened at this rate and you really try to focus but the moment you hear the faint crunch of leaves, you lose composure just a bit.
Okay you're a bit scared, but as long as your workmates are he—
a group of armed gang members suddenly appear from the alleyways between the buildings, surrounding the news van and the camera crew. The newscaster, taken off guard, gasps and steps back.
The gang members brandish their weapons, circling the news crew menacingly. One of them shouts at the newscaster, waving his gun in the air. “Hold it right there, pretty lady. This is our turf! You ain’t gonna be broadcasting nothing about us!”
You're about to shit your pants for real this time.
“Drop your cameras and get outta here, or things are gonna get real ugly real fast,” he growls, and one of them points the gun right on your camera.
“I'm talkin’ to you too.”
Yeah, you're not going to fight anyone and act all big. You simply drop the camera on the ground to raise your hands in the air.
As the gang members close in on the news crew, the atmosphere is suddenly shattered by the sound of footsteps pounding against the pavement. Everyone turns to see a tall, muscular figure approaching from the distance.
It's the hero.
You watch in awe as the hero strides towards the group of armed gang members, his movements fluid and precise. With a swift swing of his fist, he lands a powerful punch on the leader's face, sending him stumbling backwards. The other gang members are taken aback by his sudden appearance and the display of force, their eyes widening in surprise and fear. They exchange nervous looks, realizing they're facing a much stronger opponent than they anticipated.
“Hey, let's go!” Your workmate calls for your name. Her hand waving at you so you could all retreat back to the van.
And before you could follow, the van explodes.
The sudden explosion catches you off guard, jolting you out of your stupor. Shouting in surprise, you recoil from the loud blast, ducking instinctively as debris and fragments fly through the air. Your colleague, sitting next to you in the van, lets out a terrified yell as the force of the explosion propels the driver backward. The van shudders and lurches from the impact, the windows shattering and various objects sent flying.
“in the building! Let's go!” All three of you dash to protect yourselves inside this tall company building.
“I will call the police,”
“but the hero is here!” the driver of the van speaks, almost yelling in frustration.
“the hero is also a human. Just a strong one. We can't rely on him—” but before you could continue, you all cover your ears once you hear gunshots come from outside.
Ohmygosh. It’s—it could possibly be Wriothesley who's getting hurt right now. What are even the chances?!
“Fine! Just call the fucking police!” The driver gives up, leaning back against the wall while breathing heavily.
You want to go out there. You want to see. It's your chance to see who the hero is if he got hurt. Just to get the crumbs of news in exchange for your life apparently.
When it grows quiet, you peek outside, “it's clear, I'll take a look—”
“No, you're not.” her hand is firm as she grips your wrist, “just let them go.” He, on the other hand, scowls.
“Be safe!” She shouts at you as you make a run for it, running down the alleyway while looking left and right.
Someone's in the area.
You dart behind the nearby dumpster, heart pounding in your chest as adrenaline courses through your veins. Hiding as best you can, you press yourself against the rough metal, trying to keep your breathing steady and quiet. Peeking out from behind the dumpster, you cautiously scan the surroundings, trying to catch a glimpse of someone nearby. For now, the area seems to be clear, but you can't shake the feeling that someone is in the vicinity, lurking in the shadows.
“Where ya at, lil’ birdie?” You cover your mouth when you hear someone speak, it sends a chill down your spine and you can feel your heart drumming in your ears.
Your sharp eyes turn to your side to find a metal rod, you don't hesitate to grab it before smacking the shit out of the guy.
No that did not happen, but you wish it did.
Instead, the minute you see his feet pass the dumpster, with a swift movement, you grab hold of both of his ankles, using your weight and leverage to pull them out from under him. He lets out a pained shriek as he suddenly loses his balance and topples to the ground, his body hitting the pavement with a thud.
Alright, you can be cool sometimes.
Stepping at his hands to hear him cry again, you run put of the place, making turns and finally spotting the hero sitting down against the building wall while panting, seemingly exhausted.
“…” you take slow steps once you approach him, looking down at him with your eyes already glistening.
This is it, you just have to confirm it.
Your hand pulls at his mask, “Wrio—”
Huh?
This…
Is not
Wriothesley.
“Ah, what the fuck?” He grunts, the blonde grabbing the mask from your hands and you take a step back.
“Elias?!” You yell out in confusion, it's your colleague that you're covering for supposedly today's shoot.
“You're the hero??”
“not a word. Scram, you freak.” he mutters, eyes diverting away from you and staring up at the roof. “The roof,” he whispers to himself, making the effort to stand back at his knees.
Is this bitch serious? He's the last person you expected to be the hero. With his stupidly arrogant and lax attitude.
You give him an almost death stare, studying his features again before making your way out.
You need to check the other people that were with you.
But when you arrive back at the building, they were gone.
Did the police arrive? You don't hear any sirens. Could they have possibly went up on one of the floors to hide?
You find yourself in the elevator next, watching as the doors close with your hands clasped infront of you nervously.
You take deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart and steady your nerves. Hey, at least there's nice elevator music.
As the elevator comes to a halt, the doors slide open with a soft ding, revealing the rooftop and the figure standing in the open space.
There's a figure standing at the edge of the building, you can see the person's silhouette clearly now, but you can't make out their features just yet.
Your steps are hesitant as you slowly approach the figure, the wind gently billowing around you. The city lights twinkle below, but your attention is entirely focused on the person standing at the edge of the roof. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever may come, and call out tentatively, "Hello?”
Your voice rings in the air, that the person's shoulders tense.
When they look around, you're met by the same blue eyes you've known for three years now.
“Wriothesley.” You whisper, in shock, breathlessly under your breath.
He's holding.. a gun? The same gun you remember seeing in your dream.
Something in his mind snaps when you turn around, in fear. Like it was a mistake to ever see him in the first place.
Wriothesley doesn’t even give himself time to think before his body suddenly reacts, suddenly reaching out and circling his hand around your wrist to forcibly tug you back.
He yanks hard enough that you lose your balance and fall against him, his other arm coming up to wrap around your shoulders, preventing you from going anywhere.
“W-wrio—”
“think it's time we talk, sunshine.” He speak into your ear.
When you try to move the slightest from his hold, he grips you around him tighter. You figure it's best to stay still for now.
“what? Are you going to kidnap me now?” You manage to chuckle out, nervously though, your voice coming out more shaky than you intended to.
“Is that going to satisfy your little fantasy? What, I should play into it and shove you into a corner, keep you under my thumb until you’re begging me to set you free? Or no… you want to be saved by the hero.”
"You know you're not helping with your case, right? You really sound like the bad guy now.”
You’ve definitely found his breaking point because that comment makes him snap.
Wriothesley suddenly whirls you around so you’re facing him before he’s pinning you against the nearest wall, his body practically covering your own.
“Well…” He whisper, raising an eyebrow calmly in the way you look being at his mercy. “Aren’t I?”
Your jaw practically hangs at his words. Is he... Playing the bad guy now?
Or was he really… not the opposite of the hero?
He sees the shiver you try so hard to suppress and smirks at that, clearly satisfied with your reaction, “What’s wrong, sunshine? Finally realize that the man you’ve been dating isn’t the hero you've obsessing over?” He chuckles.
“i… i knew it—”
“You didn’t,” he says, his tone suddenly becoming cool and firm.
Wriothesley leans forward, pressing into you so that you’re smashed between him and the wall. His hand suddenly comes up, cupping your jaw so that he tilts your chin up to look directly into his eyes.
“If you’d known, you’d never have come within twenty feet of me. You’d never have been alone with me or spent a single night in our bed.”
He's right. And you hate it. You feel betrayed, lied to, even.
It makes you rethink your life choices.
You've gotten too comfortable with him that you didn't even think about him being the villian. You've gotten too close while you were being a complete idiot.
“you hid it.”
Wriothesley laughs, the sound almost sounding cold, “of course I hid it, sunshine. I wasn’t going to just come strutting in wearing a big, red sign saying ‘look at me, I’m a bad guy!’ was I?”
You clench your fists together, “you tricked me.”
“Tricked? No.” He shakes his head slightly. “I simply… left out key details.”
“Why?”
“ah, there it is.” He steps back, giving you space to breath, to recollect your thoughts.
“why? Because the hero isn't a hero. He started all of this destruction. Why? To get fame, recognition, power, and to be seen, to look like he's doing something when he's not.” He lets out all in one breath, and you lips part again.
“four years ago when the building almost fell on you? He did that, on purpose. then saved you to make it look like he's the one that everyone needs.”
What the hell?
“Wriothesley, we were strangers to each other four years ago. How did you know?” You don't hesitate to step closer to get more answers out of him, but he only stares at you.
You swallow thickly when he draws infront of you once again, “i did this all for you, love. I-i will do everything in my power to stop him, i will kill him so you wouldn't get hurt—”
“Okay, fucker. Out of my way,” Elias, the ’hero’, suddenly barks, and without warning, a gunshot rings out. The bullet pierces through Wriothesley's shoulder, causing him to flinch and stagger backwards.
Your eyes widen in horror as you watch the scene unfold. "Wriothesley!" you cry out, watching as he turns around despite the injury and charges towards Elias.
Despite the pain he must be in, Wriothesley doesn't relent. Ignoring the gunshot wound, he barrels towards Elias with unmatched determination, closing the distance between them.
"Bastard," Wriothesley manages to grit out as he collides with Elias, knocking him off his feet and sending them both crashing to the ground.
You don't hesitate to rush forward, with adrenaline fueling your actions, you move quickly towards them as they roll dangerously close to the edge of the roof.
"Stop!" you shout, your voice filled with desperation. "You'll fall!”
And surely enough, Your two hand clamps down on Wriothesley's, desperately grasping onto anything you can to prevent him from plunging off the edge.
Meanwhile, Elias grips Wriothesley's leg, using his strength to anchor him in place. The three of you hang there, suspended over the city, Wriothesley's body along with Elias’s dangling in the air.
“Sweetheart—”
“shut the fuck up I'm not letting go.” They're both too heavy, the feel of his fingers slipping away from yours increases everytime you try to pull them up.
Elias is purposely pulling Wriothesley's leg down to drop them both, your lips quiver, crying when two of his fingers slip now.
“hey,” his voice is soothing when he calls for you.
“at least… i protected you till the very end, right?” He tries smiling but it only makes the lump in your throat grow.
“i love you.”
“Wriothesley!”
“Wriothesley—!” You gasp harshly when you open your eyes so wide, finding that your hand was already reaching out for nothing.
You rest your hand on your chest before leaning back on your seat.
“are you okay?” The newscaster, the friend you made, offers you her handkerchief so you could swipe the sweat off your face.
“i think… continuesly searching about this, is making you stressed.” She points out, looking at the papers and drawings splayed out on your desk.
More theories of the disappearances of the hero and villian. Not their death. Their bodies were never found.
“it's been a year.”
The realization is like a punch to the gut as you bring a sweaty palm to rub at your temples.
“This is not over.” You whisper, more to yourself than to her. “We got no more trouble. No more heroic or bad guy news. The world is back to normal, almost like they never existed huh?”
Never existed.
She then suddenly gasps, which catches you off gaurd, “are engaged??” She eyes at the gem resting on your left ring finger.
The ring you found in one of his jacket pockets when you sorted his things out.
“yeah…” you decide to drawl out before sitting upright on your seat.
“now, if you'll excuse me, i got work to do.”
You're never going to stop searching, to find another answer of the question; 'why?'
Even if it will mean risking your life this time.
854 notes · View notes
DPxDC prompt. Fae!Danny x Jason. Dead on main. Death of a Fairy Tale. or
"Oh no! This tricky hooman stole my heart! What should I do?" *becomes a leader of his court and, just in case, overthrows the tyrant Pariah Dark in order to allow marriages with representatives of other races and live happily ever after with Jay*.
~~~~~
 “You're not allowed to be here. This is not your territory.”
Jason barely had time to catch his breath after escaping from the hot dog vendor when someone noticed him hiding in the bushes.
There were no rides for children or food vans in this park, so Todd didn't understand why anyone would cling to this territory but the guy looked at him with obvious concern. And well, after the morning's adventures, Jay didn't have any energy for another conflict at all. This kid looked pale and thin, so it didn't look like fighting with him would get him anything.
“Calm down, I'm just passing by. What's your problem, dude?”
“I live somewhere ne...here.”
Jason rolled his eyes. It's clear that the guy lived nearby, but it's unlikely that he had a house. The lack of a T-shirt and shoes hinted that in front of him was also a street rat who most likely had not yet learned how to defend his belongings. Poor guy. But this is definitely not Jason's business.
However, did he really spend the night outside in the open air? Sleeping on the bench was a last choice even for Jason. This might be acceptable options in some quiet provincial town, not in Gotham.
“I mean, what are you doing outside?”
Young Phantom checks his glamour, but finds no flaws in it. This man in front of him must be very knowledgeable and experienced, despite his young age, since he immediately recognized him as not a human being. For Danny, who lived with other fairies in Fairyland all his childhood and came to this dimension for the first time, the outside always meant the world of human. Fae shocked and upset that he was discovered so quickly. Haven't people almost forgotten about their existence? The elders would swear a lot if they found out that he had failed. The boy carefully orders the vine and clover to cover the circle of mushrooms, hiding the front door from the human. He was the only one of the entire brood entrusted by Undergrowth to start a practice in a city where there are almost no plants and sunlight, and faeling did not want to let down the mentor who took him under his wing at all.
The old Fairies claim that people are mean and narrow-minded, but Danny himself is intrigued by these creatures and therefore hopes that he will be able to come to an agreement with the boy and to continue his research without obstacles. Danny intends to take the exam for the right to be called an adult fae this decade, which means he has no right to make mistakes. But still, forcing a guy to dance until he drops dead from exhaustion or make him wander along the paths of this small green area without being able to find a way out, as he was taught to get rid of pests at home, seemed too cruel. This boy, just like him, is still a cub and he is here by accident, not to encroach on their possessions. They need not quarrel.
“Don't banish me. I'm just trying to learn.”
“To do what?”
“To steal.” Danny blushes, realizing that such honesty was unnecessary. Stupid, stupid...People know that faeries can take their names, thereby gaining power over them. Now this cub will definitely decide that he has come to cause harm and he will not be able to learn anything useful and interesting. Phantom quickly makes excuses. “Nothing important! I only borrowed trinkets and fruits.”
“You're new to this, aren't you?”
“Is it that noticeable?”
“Pretty noticeable, yes.”
The boy looked at him almost pityingly. And the Phantom didn't like it.
That's how the spirits and other fairies used to look at him when they found out he was only halfa. Because of this fact, his abilities were belittled and not taken seriously too often. What's wrong with that? He's dead just like everyone else, even if not completely.
And now he's screwed up, not even because of his nature, but because of his sluggishness. It was especially unpleasant, as it was deserved. He should have spent his time more productively, but the flowers bred with the help of humans were so interesting and talked about their longing for the sun with such sadness that fae did not dare to interrupt them.
Jason finished both of the stolen hot dogs and leaved the park. The guy still follow him and stares intently, almost without blinking.
“Stop it. What do you want?”
“I study. You seem experienced. “
“People don't really like being stared at like this, in case you didn't know. Back off.”
“Really?”
Jason was ready to be outraged that the kid thought he was an idiot but the tramp from the park looked really puzzled. It seems that if he ever had parents, they didn't care about the boy, since they didn't explain to him that atypical behavior could add him problems. The boy is lucky that Jay is an asshole only when absolutely necessary.
“You're weird. Try to keep your mouth shut near others.”
“Okay.”
Jason took a few minutes to think and sighed. Todd could not leave this strange child alone, because damn conscience would not allow it. He can't survive alone. He will either wander after some other person and become a victim of trafficking or he will be at the beck and call of some assholes in the late afternoon. Jason cursed his bleeding heart once more and promised himself that he would keep the boy by his side no longer than necessary. Jay couldn't afford to be responsible for another mouth to feed. Summer has already come to an end and it was worth starting to save a little money and store things in case of early cold weather.
“If I teach you some of my skills will you promise to stay away from the places where I…work?”
“Maybe. Is this a deal?”
“Yes, if you'll agree, idiot. “
Danny nods and his new acquaintance continues.
“First of all, we'll get you shoes and some clothes. I don't need you to pick up tetanus and some viral crap.”
Danny smiles a little, trying not to make it too noticeable. Great trick.
He nodded to indicate understanding rather than agreeing, and the boy did not ask for verbal confirmation. It seems that he is not completely hopeless at deceiving people. Phantom couldn't wait to tell Clockwork or Frostbite about his success.
They wound through streets and rooftops for a long time until they reached other man's temporary shelter, and Danny had to admit that the man's decision to borrow more clothes was very clever. Strange sharp things and narrow bags of biological fluid were found between the houses disgustingly often. The elders are right about something? Danny must admit. Some people are nasty. They didn't even clean the settlement they live in properly.
A foul-smelling device for carrying things flew into the face of fae while he thoughtfully followed the boy telling him something about removing so-called tires from the iron inanimate horses.
“Dude, stop fighting with a trash bag. You'll stand guard while I give the customer the goods, okay?”
“Fine.” To be honest, the intern was ready to cry from the injustice of life and rush home, and he was only stopped by the desire to visit the observatory, which his new acquaintance mentioned when fae complained that because of the smoke and smog the stars would probably not be visible at night.
Danny realized that he did not regret his decision when, a couple of minutes later, he heard his human quarreling with adult specimen. Judging by the conversation, the man refused to pay the price for the things brought to him and even threatened to hit Phantom's guide. Danny was annoyed by this and decided to intervene a little. To his good fortune, on the balcony of this vile man there was a pot with withering petunias and they did not mind helping lil fae teach their owner manners. A slight whiff of magic and the pot falls on the deceiver's head and human begins to choke on the roots that climb right into his mouth. Danny giggles, congratulating his green comrades on their successful revenge. Other boy doesn't waste any time and grabs the bucks that fell out of the customer's hands and orders new boy to run.
Danny spent several days with human cub and really learned a lot about these creatures. Despite the fact that such a pastime was exciting, he needed to at least create the illusion of practice the fae skills.
It is dangerous to ask a person who knows who he is about this but teachers will be upset if he does not make an attempt. And despite the fact that the people around him seem scary, Nocturn will be much scarier in anger if he finds out that Phantom is such a loser.
“Ma- Can I have your name?” Danny muttered uncertainly and immediately panicked at his own impudence. “Sorry!”
“Jason.”
Todd was in a good mood, as luck had been with him for the last few days, and the new companion was not at all as useless as it seemed to him from the beginning. He was able to hide so well that no one could detect them, and managed to bring fresh fruits, vegetables and mushrooms to their safe house. However, there were problems with the last one, since this strange dude sometimes brought toadstools and satan's boletes to their apartment, which he managed to get from unknown places. Jason thought he was going to have a heart attack the first time he caught child happily eating raw fly agaric. Indeed, if Jay hadn't found him this boy would probably have died of poisoning in that park by now. Todd had to persuade him to bring only chanterelles, which he could confidently identify as edible and not fear for their lives every time the boy tries to help find food. And his padawan really managed to find them. In Gotham. Holy shit. Maybe this park, so fiercely guarded by the boy, was another secret area for Poison Ivy's experiments? However, poisonous specimens will not be wasted either, since you never know when you will need to defend yourself without entering into a fight, but acting more subtly.
“Real name! Real one!” The boy's eyes were as big as saucers and he became very worried and waved his hands as if trying to shake off invisible sticky threads from his fingertips. “You shouldn't say your actual name! Why did you do that? You shouldn't have given it to me.”
“There are a lot of Jason's around. Why do you care about that?”
“You're not just some Jason, you're my Jason, you're important to me. It's dangerous if someone has your name. Then that someone can make you do bad things.”
Tears began pouring down boy's face and Jason was surprised by such a violent reaction. Todd doesn't think there's anything to worry about, since he didn't tell the stranger his last name. He often introduces himself in different ways. Just, for some reason, something made him be honest this time. But how would this guy know that?
“Well…You're not just anyone. We're friends. I don't think you're going to rat on me to the cops or anything. So it's okay. “ Jay tries to calm the newcomer down.
“Friends?”
“Yes. Friends forever?” Jason teasingly holds out his little finger, offering a childish oath that he recently taught his padawan.
“Forever.” The boy supports the oath, and then, after thinking for a second, leans closer to Todd and whispers. "I'm Danny, just so you know."
“Good. I'll remember.”
The young fae is overcome with euphoria. He took the name! He did it! But that was all the other boy had, apart from a rusty tire iron, so it probably wasn't right or friendly to keep it. The human cub helped him. Danny couldn't keep such a gift. He didn't even really try to get his name. “Jason is your name.”
“That's right, buddy.”
“I won't call you that name.” Where I come from, even spouses rarely know each other's names. Danny wanted to assure his friend that he should not be afraid that he would abuse his power. “ I like you so I will take full responsibility for the possession of such a gift, don't worry.”
“Hah, in order to take responsibility, you already need to at least marry me as a moral compensation, given the number of brain cells killed by your antics. “
“Well, if I have to, then I will. When we're older.”
Jason snorts and shakes his head. It's probably not love, since they're just kids, but still, Jason thinks that if all autumn evenings were like this, he wouldn't mind spending his life with Danny, snuggling closer to the boy while they both bask under the same blanket. No matter how many times a day they managed to roll in the mud and fall into the trash can, the boy always gave off a light scent reminiscent of spring greens, which reminded Todd of something warm and cozy. Maybe a home? Although when his father was not in prison yet, his house smelled more like the stench of cigarette smoke and mold.  So Danny was more like a hope for a good home that they write about in books.
On their free evenings Jason usually entertained them by reading. Danny has always been an attentive listener, reacting vividly. After stroking the battered cover of a new book he found, Jason puts it aside. He's too tired today, and  just wants to listen.
Noticing this, Danny begins to chirp about his homeland. His stories are like fairy tales, too bright and colorful for the stone Jungle. Jay realized a long time ago that his friend had something like a defense mechanism. Todd himself snapped and fought when the world was too cruel, this guy escaped to his fictional world, where he was safer and happier. His friend could have been a great writer someday. The descriptions of Princess Dorathea and her cruel brother, pharaoh with an unusual passion for technology and ultra-recyclo vegetarian queen of plants were so detailed and vivid that they seemed true. Danny's imagination contained the whole world.
When the first snowflakes fall to the ground, Danny says that this means that his friend Frostbite will soon come to pick him up. Jason is honestly not ready for such a turn of events. He promised himself that he would not be around another boy for longer than necessary, but he managed to get attached. He hopes that this statement is just another one of his companion's fantasies and forgets about it for a while.
A snowstorm is raging in the city when Danny does not return home. The snowfall does not stop for several days, and Todd realizes that his friend left him, although all his belongings are left in their apartment. He hopes that someone really came for the boy, and not that in the spring his body will be found in one of the melting snowdrifts.  After a few months, when the canned homemade vegetables carefully cooked by Danny are coming to an end, and the mold, sitting alone  in a corner of the ceiling all winter, felt the first the warm rays of the sun, Todd decides not to waste energy on useless worries and hopes.
Soon, as Danny would put it, Batman steals Jason. Todd doesn't really trust the old man at first, but he teaches him to be Robin, and, well, Robin is cool. He's magic. Robin is an urban legend, a spirit worthy of being the hero of Danny's favorite stories. Robin is Jason's connection not only to the city itself, but also to his past. Robin does not need to think about whether he should grieve not only for his mother but also for his friend. Robin is more. There is not only strength and hope in this uniform, but also memories, nostalgia and  humanness. Therefore, Todd is not ready to give up the suit, even if he understands Grayson's displeasure. Because when he goes out on a patrol, the longing becomes less, and he feels that he is getting better and closer to something important. It helps.
No.
It helped.
And then he died.
And things are getting worse by the day, hah.
~~~A few hits with a crowbar later~~~
Jason learns about a new attempt of eco-terrorism relatively late, when he is officially called to help. Even so he stays at the place of the fight before the rest of the family. Firstly, because this time Ivy decided to start destruction from the closest to Crime Alley park, and secondly because Ivy's creations always pay little attention to him. Even the famous pollen has almost no effect on Hood.
Making his way through the furiously writhing vines, Red Hood notices the enemy and realizes that it is not Ivy, but decides that he will analyze the situation during the battle and rushes forward.
“Hey! Don't touch B, you.. “Almost flying into a guy with such a familiar face, the Hood slows down sharply “... pointy-eared.”
A guy with sparkling green energy in his hand and a vigilante with a pistols in each hand freeze looking at each other.
“Man, is it you?”
Snow-white hair, glowing green eyes, transparent dragonfly-like wings and razor-sharp claws are completely unfamiliar to Todd, but facial features, expressions and a bracelet with star pendants that Jay gave Danny for his birthday, adorning one of the impressive polished horns, allow to recognize him.
“Jay! It's been a long time, my friend.” Hearing Todd's voice, despite the sound changed by the helmet, the creature calms down. “You've grown up a lot.”
“And you're still so short. Wow. And, by the way, I can't believe you're still keep it.” Red puts the safety of the guns and then points one of them at the jewellery. “It's from a dollar store, nothing special.”
John says goodbye to the hope of a day off after the mission, cursing the manners of the bat and his offspring. Is a couple of days without the risk of interdimensional conflict really that too much to ask for?
“You gave it to me. That's why it's special.”
The creature smiles and Todd feels his face blushing. It's a good thing he's still wearing his helmet. Danny looks too…magical…in every sense.
“Do you know him, Hood?” Of course, Bat cannot stay out of the conversation when nothing is holds him back.
“No.”
“Yes.”  Danny denies the statement of Hood, proudly puffs out his chest and declares. “He was my first. He calls himself Hood these days? How strange.”
Bat gasps and exhales indignantly.
Jason quickly connects the fact that his friend is definitely not human with the possibility that Danny's stories were true.
“Name!” Trying to fix the chaos that his friend is trying to involve them in, Red Hood hurries to explain. “He's talking about damn name. I'm the first one who gave...”
“Oh, come on, spoilsport. He almost believed me.” The fairy winks playfully and Jason has to do his best to focus on the mission and not on the guy. “You're my betrothed anyway. And, hey, I collected the library as a wedding gift.”
“Hm.” Hood rolls his eyes. This joke about their childhood promise would have been hilarious if he hadn't felt the old man's rising pressure behind his back. So, returning to the problem, he still needs to get these two away from each other as soon as possible. Neither Danny nor Bruce has a calm personality, and Jason didn't want to start Danny's acquaintance with Alfred by giving first aid to these dummies. “So what's all the fuss about? Are you like um.. Ivy's pet-pixie or what?”
Now John Constantine, who carefully watched the meeting from the sidelines, almost feels his blood pressure rising too. Compare faeries with garden pests. What was Batman's son thinking about, showing such disrespect? He wanted them to have more problems or what?
“Hm? Who is Ivy? I've never heard of her. To be honest, I'm only here because our gate was disturbed.” The fairy chirped angrily and, with a nervous flutter of his wings, flew up to the bushes. His finger pointed accusingly at the crushed mushrooms that John and Batsy had landed on when they unsuccessfully attacked Dr. Isley. “But even though your companions' behavior is inexcusable, I don't blame you, of course. I am glad that we met again because of this incident, Tagetes.”
The Faerie circle...John hadn't seen this in years. Damn Gotham. He difenetly doesn't want the problems of this crazy city to fall under his and Shazam's responsibility. Now it is clear why Rogue disappeared so quickly. She probably knew about it and wanted to make them someone else's problem. Damn it twice, John should have sent a message instead of coming to Gotham to discuss business with Wayne. Being uninvited guests of such mischievous and malicious hosts does not bode well.
“You are lucky that the Fright Knight is not on duty today. But someone will have to answer for it. Is it really so hard to look at your feet? Or is this a deliberate provocation? I demand an apology.”
“No, enough games for you. They're a little busy chasing someone, in case you didn't notice.” Jason starts pulling on his friend's hand, intending to take him out of the park. Next to these paranoids, it's better not to ask an old friend about anything. “Only good little fairies are invited to my safe house to taste my signature lasagna today, so stop trying to give my old man a heart attack, okay?”
“Wait. Is this Willis?” The fairy's eyes narrow and he looks at the cloaked dark figure with disapproval.
"No, another jerk. B has a problem with adoptions and that's the reason I'm now part of his brood." Jason reluctantly explains. "He literally dragged me off the streets without consent after I tried to take the tires off his car."
“Oh my Ancients, he did what?! But you're mine! He had no right to steal you.” Danny indignantly rustled the leaves of the closest trees.
“I prefer to be considered as my own man, thank you very much.”
“Riiight…but still, speaking absolutely one hundred percent theoretically, who would you rather stay with, darling? If only you were mine~”
“Ja-..Don't let yourself be fooled, Red Hood. You can't trust him. Ten or even fifty years spent on a prank don't mean anything to this creature.” Bruce doesn't look happy with how at ease Todd is with the threat, but frankly, he rarely looks happy at all, so the crime lord doesn't attach too much importance to it.
"Wow. Rude. This is partially true, but it still hurts. Jason is a friend. I won't do anything to him and I don't demand anything from him. I can't say that about the rest of you. I was preparing for a long-awaited vacation, and because of your fuss I have a new bunch of paperwork to do. What can you say in your defense?"
The boy with the snow-white hair didn't look really upset, but just because there was still a smile on his face, it couldn't be said that he wasn't furious. Next to fairies, all human senses became enemies, not allies.
Despite the deceptive good-naturedness of merrily fluttering his wings guy, John was on high alert. Short-tempered, playful and obnoxious temperament were both a blessing and a curse when working with these creatures. Fairies skillfully searched for loopholes in contracts and in general were the best deceivers among those who could only tell the truth. Faeries prefer to bend victims to their will with words, but they are skilled users of the magic of nature and chaos. They also, despite the business acumen as strong as the alligator's mouth closing strength, were willing to play cat-and-mouse with those who dared to turn to him for help or just walk near their possessions. And this specimen was also clearly not one of the fairies that Morningstar had taken over control, since his energy reeked of Infinite Realms. Unknown territory. John urgently needs to come up with some ingenious plan to get everyone out of this fighting safe and relatively unscathed and…
“Fuck off, B. I told you he already has my name. If he wanted to hurt me, he would have done it at any time. You should show more respect for your future son-in-law, you know.”
“Jason, honey, since when do street rats hang out with bats?” Danny obviously didn't have much sympathy for the Gotham vigilante before, but because of his story, their chances of getting along tended to zero.
“Oh, come on, don't even start this conversation. What is more important…Who would I rather stay with? Hm…Let's say, um, theoretically, of course…If your fiance was killed by one very very bad cruel clown, what would you do, Stardust?
"I would tear clown molecule by molecule."
“Yes, yes! Right!” Jason pats Danny on the shoulder and turns to Batman. “See, that's how you should have reacted.”
Constantine: …What an Addams family. I'm leaving. I've already seen enough. If you get kidnapped, don't call me. Damn freaks.
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Come with me now to see my world
Where there's beauty beyond your dreams
Strangers Like Me - Phil Collins
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spyder-junkie · 1 year
Text
EARTH-42 MILES MORALES X READER PART 2
part three ??
part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4
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Honestly the death of his father traumatized Miles.
It taught him to hold on to the things he loves, things that make him happy, because nothing is forever.
And honestly he was looking for something to fill his father’s void, something to satisfy the itch being prowler couldn’t scratch.
So not even two days later, Miles shows up at you window.
He wanted to scope you out, see if you were something he’s like to spend his time on.
With any person hes ever thought of pursuing, the thought of having to tell them hes Prowler loomed over his shoulder.
But you already knew.
Hes dressed normally this time, and hes come at a reasonable hour.
You smile when you see him, opening the window immediately for him to crawl in.
“I aint’ catch you name.” is the first thing he says, dusting off his jeans.
“Y/n.” You reply, sitting down at your desk.
“What can I help you with, Miles?”
He pauses for a moment, almost forgetting what excuse he came up with.
“Check my wounds for me? You wrapped ‘em so well ian wanna unwrap em.” He says, face calm.
You look at him for a moment before shrugging.
“bien, siéntate.” You mumble, going to grab your first aid kit.
“You speak spanish?” Miles asks, sitting down on your bed and pulling his shirt from his body.
The big gash on his side is covered in bandages, blood stained.
“A little, I take a class at school.” You smile, bending down infront of him. He spreads his knees, letting you settle onto the ground infront of him.
He shuts his eyes tight as you unwrap the bandage.
“Thats a pretty chain.” You mumbled, using a cottonball to dab at the wound.
Miles’ hands come to to touch the chain hes wearing. It was one of the many things he half-hazardly bought with his work money.
“Where’d you get it? Ive been looking for something similar.” You ask.
“I honestly can’t remember.” He mumbles, from his tone you could only assume he was telling the truth.
“Thats okay, anyway Youre all good.” You say just finishing his bandages, standing up and putting your things away.
“Oh.” Miles mumbles, not realizing how little time that would take you.
“Anything else I can help you with, Prowler?” He shivers at the way the name rolls off your tongue.
“Guess not.” He says, standing up and walking towards the window. His hands are in his pockets.
He leaves, climbing back out your window and disappearing past the block.
After two days a package shows up at your door.
When you open it, you realize its a chain, identical to Miles’ and brand new.
You giggle a little while clasping it around your neck.
You dont see Miles again for two weeks.
“You know we can just schedule meet ups instead of you showing up to my window at night.” You say, watching as Miles in his normal clothes climbs out if the darkness and into your room.
He ignores your statement, taking his shoes and jacket off and sitting at your desk. He leans back, legs spread wide and eyes closed.
You shake you head, sitting down on your bed and facing him.
“Whats troubling you?” You ask.
“Nothing important.” He says quickly. He opens his eyes and looks at you.
“Youre wearing the chain.” He mumbles.
“Yeah.” You reach up and touch it. “It’s really nice, I thought you didn’t know where you got it from.”
Miles shrugs
“How much was it? I can pay you back-“
“Eres Bonita, you shouldnt have to pay for your own shit.” He cuts you off.
You pause.
“Thank you.” You smile, looking at his hard expression, he nods.
Its silent for a while, Miles just recollecting with his eyes closed.
“Youve been with the cops yet?” He asks calmly. The question startles you.
“…excuse me?”
“You got my name, you know my face, you could rat me out n’ get that reward money.” He says, opening his eyes to look at you.
“is that…what you want me to do..?” You ask, looking at him in confusion.
“Im asking why you haven’t already.” He stated.
“Oh. because I dont want to.”
Miles furrowed his eyebrows.
“I like you, Miles. Plus you helped me out when I needed you. What you do as the prowler doesn’t really concern me.” You say.
Miles stares at you a bit longer, gears turning in his head.
“You can believe me, Im not lying. Now its late, and I am kind of tired. Stay if you want, but my dad usually pops in at 7 to say hes leaving for work.” You say, moving the covers so you could properly get into bed.
You look over at Miles, whos still sitting quietly at you desk.
You lock eyes with him, holding out your hand.
He stares for a while longer, before slowly getting up and sitting on your bed.
He doesn’t get under the coveres, opting to sit with his back against the headboard. He lets you curl up besides him, laying your head in his lap.
His hand ghosts over your shoulder, rubbing soft circles with his thumb as your eyes close.
“Goodnight Miles.”
“…..goodnight y/n.”
When your father wakes you up the next morning as hes leaving, the bed is empty and Miles is gone.
You rub your eyes a little bit, looking to see if he left anything behind.
On your bedside table there was another note.
“ maybe we should schedule meet ups. xxx-xxx-xxxx -miles”
You smile to yourself, immediately putting his number in your phone.
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wynnyfryd · 11 months
Text
Trailer Park Steve AU
part 1
“Are you lost?” Munson frowns, propping his shoulder against the door frame and crossing his arms over his chest. His rings glint against his jacket sleeve; he’s got new tattoos on his fingers.
Steve’s head fills with static fuzz for a second, and he stares like a mouth-breathing idiot before helpfully answering: “Um.”
“…Right. Well, this has been weird as shit, man, but, uh— pharmacy’s closed until my uncle leaves at sundown, so…” He lifts his hand to make a shooing motion, then pauses, assessing Steve with narrowed eyes. “What are you all dressed up like a good little school boy for, anyway? Didn’t you graduate last year?”
Oh, okay. Wow. (Like, yeah, he does kinda look like some goody two-shoes freshman with Robin’s forgotten backpack hiked up way too high under his armpits, but also fuck you, dude.) Steve squares his shoulders, plasters a falsely polite smile on his face and cocks his head to the side, all innocent, like he doesn’t know, like he’s just asking, man. “Sure did. Weren’t you supposed to do that, too?”
Munson glares at him like he’s imagining doing to him what Misty did to the rat. “I really don’t want to fight this early in the morning, man.”
“I’d love to see you try,” Steve snorts. “What, Munson? You gonna beat my ass? Think you can take me? Go ahead.”
He doesn’t know why he’s egging on a fight, but he’s suddenly itching for one. Feels the urge bubbling up beneath the surface. Hot under the collar. Probably this is the part where Tommy would hold him back and tell him it isn’t worth it, man, come on, but Tommy’s not around anymore.
A lot of people aren’t around anymore.
Nobody fights for fallen kings.
So Steve bows up with a sneer and a huff, and Munson does the same, and that’s… concerning. It gets a hell of a lot more concerning when he flashes a menacing grin and claps a hand to Steve’s shoulder; gets right up in his face, nose to nose, breath sharp with spearmint to cover the scent of weed.
From Wayne’s point of view they might almost look like friends.
Steve barely hears the thwck slice past his bad ear before he feels the cold press of a blade against his throat. Pocket knife, unpocketed. Munson’s smile widens, and Steve swallows hard, feels his pulse jump against the blade, the blood rushing to his cheeks. It shouldn’t be hot. (And it isn’t, because it shouldn’t be.)
“You want to try that again?”
Munson’s voice is deadly soft, a raspy whisper that makes Steve’s hair stand on end. His eyes are huge and dark. Intense. Kind of endless.
Kind of like Nancy’s when she’s staring down a loaded gun.
Steve blinks and licks the sweat off his upper lip, fingers trembling against frayed denim where he’s got his hands raised in surrender. “We’re c-cool, man. We’re cool. My mistake.”
Munson backs off with a pleased look on his face, snaps the knife shut and tucks it back into his pocket. Soft squeak of worn leather; casual shrug. “Cool. Glad we understand each other.”
Then he scruffs Steve under the chin — patronizing and quick, this humiliating little bullshit maneuver like ‘chin up, Steve-o’ before he hops down the steps and swings himself up into his van. The tires screech in the loose gravel, and Steve just stands there and stares. Gobsmacked. Pissed off.
A little stiff in his jeans.
When he looks down there’s a black cat brushing itself against his sneakers. “Misty?” he asks.
“M’row,” says the cat.
There’s a dead bird at her feet.
part 3
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rafesslxt · 5 months
Text
DOBERMAN | Mattheo Riddle
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summary: you and pansy go get some errands with hagrid in a store and on your way you find something really cute you wanna buy. When you come back with it, Mattheo isn‘t that convinced like the rest is.
warnings: cutest dog evaaa, new slytherin mascot hehe, mattheo being a softie and a dog dad, words: 806
notes: writing this in the honor of wanting a second dog, a doberman, even tho I got the most beautiful white Shepard ever
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Mattheo honestly didn't knew what to say. This wasn't the first time you came back from shopping with things that surprised him. But this?
In front of him sat his girlfriend with her best friend Pansy and a fucking puppy. Even tho that puppy's head and paws looked so huge it could count as a little but matured dog. "What the hell is this?" he asks, looking down at it, sitting by his girlfriends feet.
"This is our new dog! And Pansy and I already named her!"
By the time half of the Slytherins were now in the common room, all standing and sitting around you and your dog. "What did you name her?" Theodore asks you. "Azula." "Azula?" he asks. "What does that mean?" a little girl asks, sitting on the couch.
"It's a name from a girl that can produce blue flames. She's a fire bender and really powerful." Mattheo sighs and shakes his head. "Does Dumbledore even know about this? And where do you even wanna let her be when we have classes?"
"I already figured everything out with Pansy!" Pansy nods in agreement and continues. "Yeah, we asked Hagrid and he says he would love to watch her whenever we have classes or are outside Hogwarts. Dumbledore said yes because officially it's Y/N's pet now. And well, we all know he likes Y/N so it wasn't really that hard."
"Yeah only Snape was a little unsure but then I told him I would teach her to catch rats and snakes for his potions." you say after smiling brightly at Mattheo.
"Oh come on Mattheo, she will be our little guard and new addition to the gang." you say, batting with your lashes at him.
"I like her!" comes from an Enzo who's laying on his back on the ground, already playing with Azula.
Mattheo rolls his eyes. " I am not going to feed her, walk her or do anything other. This is your responsibility, understood?" he gives in which leads you to jump at him happy. "Yes yes yes I promise! You will love her."
A few months passed by since you got Azula and to say Mattheo and her were enemys - one sided enemys - was an understatement.
She was now fully in her teeny phase which means she would not pee inside but now destroy everything her sharp teeth could reach. And to Mattheo's dismail, it were always his things. His ties, his hoodies, his belts, his shoes - especially his shoes.
He would always scold her for destroying his stuff but you told him every time that she was still learning and is now in her teeny phase. Like puberty. What the fuck does that even mean, was what he thought.
Azula on the other hand loved him. She was very picky about who she would let close to her but no matter how often she got pushed away by Mattheo, she would try again.
So it was when Mattheo came back really tired from his classes after he had studied all night long and got barely any sleep, when he fell down on the couch in the common room.
He slept so deep, that he at first didn't notice the little body that squeezed itself between his chest and arms. When he woke up from his nap, still alone in the common room, he gasps as he saw Azula's face right in front of his with her eyes closed.
That was the moment he fell in love, like hard. He would get her ANY toy he saw while walking through the pet store with you, originally to buy dog shampoo and a new leash.
No food was good enough for her but the one he got, the priciest of course and fresh food from Hagrid. He would barf her most of the time. (Barf is feeding your dog like raw meat, fresh fruits, vegetables and stuff.)
He would walk her every time you didn't have time or were still in class. Often he would let her chase Draco in his ferret form only to laugh at him when he hid on a tree or something different that Azula couldn't reach.
Oh and the pics you would collect of them both were so precious. Them playing together, sleeping together on the couch or when she was allowed in your dorm on your bed.
She also played a lot with the cats in Hogwarts as she grew up with them but she hates Mrs. Norris and always chased her through the castle, making Filch argue with you.
So now here he sat, with the love of his life and you. Joke joke joke. But no for real. He would love her to death and that's when it hit him.
"Y/n? I think I want a baby with you."
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I just haaaaad to write this, hope you enjoyed. Let me know what you think. 🫶🏻
Taglist: 💗💞💖
@sofa-couch26 @nevereverthem @little-miss-naill @kolsangel @atadoddinnit @Helena-1105 @itsarajr @jolly4holly @hisparentsgalllery @slytherinscreamqueen @scrumptiouscyclewizard @mixvchelle @littlemadamred @ess-perspective @ummmmmmm-username
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xoxo sarah <3
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Text
Bad Day (Matt)
Request: I NEEED A MATT FIC He had a bad day or sum and reader knows anyways he's in the shower and reader comes in with a like "I'm here" and he's like "in here" and she gets in the shower w him and presses against him from behind and like jerks him from behind and he's just like soft and sweet and a lil subby just whining
Warnings: Soft, no actually sex, sub Matt, shower, jerking off, needy Matt, super fluffy, comfort
AN: Super short little blurb
Y/n’s Pov
I was out doing meetings and stuff all day, but that didn’t stop me from responding to my boyfriend’s texts when he told me he was having a bad day. Matt had told me things just kept going wrong today and he was stressed out so I told him to meet me at my apartment because I’d be home soon.
After an hour or so, I finally got home but didn’t see Matt, I knew he was here though because his shoes were in the living room. “Matt, I’m home. Where are you?” I called out into my one bedroom apartment. “I’m here, in the shower.” He called back out to me, sounding a bit down as I started walking towards the bathroom.
“Can I join you, baby?” “Yeah, I just got in.” I joined Matt in the shower and we washed our hair/bodies but before Matt could turn off the water, I wrapped my arms around him from behind. I started to kiss his shoulder, feeling him relax into my touch as I pressed my body against him.
“You’ve had a hard day, let me make you feel good?” I asked, already knowing Matt would say yes, “Please Y/n/n?” he whimpered. I angled myself so I was still behind him but not to the right side as I started leaving ghostly touches across his cock.
Matt whined and threw his arm over my shoulders, “Please touch me.” he desperately begged. Without saying a word, I wrapped my hand around his cock and started giving it long, slow strokes before slightly speeding up.
His moans were so whiny and perfect as I continued touching him, running my thumb over his tip. “Feel good Matty? You’re being such a good boy for me.” I praised him once I knew he was getting close.
My pace quickened as Matt started bucking his hips into my hand, “Y/n… ‘m gonna cum!” he whimpered before letting out a loud moan as he came all over my hand. I quickly rinsed it off before turning Matt around and giving him a soft kiss as I turned off the water.
Once we had dried off and gotten changed, we headed to my room to lay down and cuddle. “Do you feel any better?” I asked Matt while playing with his hair. “So much better, thank you. I love you!” “I love you too!” I replied. We continued to cuddle until we had both fallen into a peaceful sleep.
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reminiscingtonight · 7 months
Text
And The Things You'd Do
Lia Wälti x Russo!Reader (Alessia Russo & Russo!Reader + Kyra Cooney-Cross & Russo!Reader)
Word Count: 1.4k
The Thing About Families (Part One) // That's How You Know It's Home (Part Three)
[WOSO Masterlist]
It’s the shuffling of feet that draws your attention. 
You’re off stretching on the side of the field. Having just come back from injury, you’ve been approved for some light training and warm-ups while the other girls do their own drills. You’ve been doing alright all by your lonesome, so you’re surprised to see the Australian girl approaching. 
You’re quick to narrow your eyes at the sheepish look on her face.
“What is it?”
Kyra turns and you instantly see the problem. She tries to wiggle her arm, one sleeve somehow caught underneath her pinnie. “I’m stuck.”
Sighing, you jerk your head at her. “C’mere.”
The young girl brightens up at your command, dutifully rushing to your side before allowing you to free her from her self-made prison. 
“Go on,” you chuckle when she finally pops free. 
Kyra lets out a whoop before sprinting back towards the other girls.
You’re smiling fondly at her departing figure when you hear a familiar drawl.
“Thought you were getting sick of her.”
You roll your eyes. “Please. I had to grow up with you, Gio, and Luca. Kyra’s a breeze compared to you lot.”
Alessia lets out an offended squawk. “You take that back!”
You raise an eyebrow at her raised arm and Alessia freezes. She gives you a grin, quickly recycling her plans to give you a noogie. “Sorry. Point taken.”
“What can I say? She grew on me.”
Alessia huffs, dragging a toe in the grass as the two of you slowly make your way back to the others. “The taste of coffee can grow on you. Being relegated to passenger-side-car-DJ can grow on you. Annoying Australians cannot grow on you!”
“Relax, rat. I’m not replacing you with her. Think of Kyra as your unofficial niece.”
Alessia pulls a face at your words.
You shake your head. “Take it up with Lia. I’m pretty sure she’s ready to duel Mini for guardianship.”
---
So maybe you should’ve thought things through. 
When the ref whips out her red card, pointing for you to get off the field, you realize you might have gone a little too far. 
In your defense, it really wasn’t your fault.
The first yellow you get on purpose. 
No one messes with your baby sister. 
When Alessia is blatantly fouled and the referee lets play go on without a single care that the blonde is clutching her ankle in pain, it only seems right that you bulldoze through the player at fault. 
She milks the muck out of it and you’re rolling your eyes at the yellow card pointed your way, confidently swaggering your way back across the field to where Alessia’s still on the ground. 
Alessia winces when the trainer presses a little too hard on the joint, fingers nearly crushing yours that you’ve graciously lent her for support. 
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“Didn’t have to do what?”
Alessia tries to look stern but all you can see is the little girl who would follow you everywhere just because she could. You know she’s trying to be strong but you’d recognize the tearful look on her face from a mile away.
Lia doesn’t find the humor in your act of retribution, rightfully chastising you into the locker room at halftime.
“It’s not my fault! Look what she did to Less! She’ll lucky if she only needs to be in the boot for two weeks!”
It isn’t until Kim gives you one of her disapproving glares that you wilt. 
“Sorry Kim,” you mumble, scuffing your shoes on the ground. “Won’t happen again.”
It happens again.
There’s only ten minutes left in the match when you feed the ball into your midfield and time seems to come to a standstill. 
You watch on with a twisted horror as Kyra leaps up to receive your ball. She barely gets a touch on it before she’s caught on the wrong side of a flying elbow, crumpling to the ground.
The whistle blows and you can practically hear the blood pumping in your ears. One second you’re rushing across the field to be by Kyra’s side. The next you’re pivoting midstride, catching sight of the smirk on the offending player’s face. 
No one’s close enough to stop you from shoving her over. 
“You think that’s funny? Throwing your elbow into her face? Let’s see if you think it’s funny when I do it to you!” 
Steph catches you by the waist and hauls you back before anyone can test how serious you are. 
You’re still yelling and spitting when the ref stalks over, hand already digging into her pocket. 
There are boos and jeers when the inevitable comes and you throw a hand up in disgust. 
“Go on then, you gonna card her for drawing blood too?”
It’s clear your teammates don’t know what to do. 
Getting a yellow card is rare enough for you. But getting two and then being thrown out of a game? Practically unheard of in the years you’ve been at the club.
You ignore the look on their faces as you stomp all the way off the pitch and straight for the med room. You see Leah quirk her eyebrow, ready to give you an earful but you just push past, knowing full well that you’re going to get your ass handed to you later.
Alessia blinks up in surprise at the sound of the door opening.
She’s sat on top of an examining table, ankle propped on a pillow and wrapped in ice.
It only takes a second for her to realize what’s wrong with the picture. Alessia glances at the clock on the wall before her eyes flicker back to your fuming face. “What did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything,” you mutter. You poke at the ice, ignoring the way Alessia hisses and slaps your shoulder. “How’s the foot? Are we going to need to amputate?”
Alessia rolls her eyes. “My foot is fine. Now what is this I hear of you getting a red card?” 
You glare at her phone, the sound of another message coming in, no doubt your mother telling Alessia about what you’ve done.
“Tell ma to stop snitching. That girl got exactly what she deserved for elbowing Kyra In the face.”
“Kyra got what?” Alessia gasps, eyes going wide.
Before you can repeat, the door opens behind you.
The two of you turn to see a sullen looking Kyra.
“Hi.” 
You don’t think you’ve ever heard Kyra so quiet before.
“Oh wow, you look miserable.” You’re not sure if Alessia thinks this is hilarious or sad, but you’d definitely say the latter.
Kyra did look miserable. Her nose is already becoming discolored, swelling and bruises become more prominent.
“C’mere,” you huff, pressing an icepack against her nose when she gets close enough to you.
Kyra hisses and tries to jerk back but you just follow with the ice.
“The sooner you stop moving the sooner your 15 minutes of icing will be done.”
You don’t even make it to the 15 before the door slams open again for the third time. 
“What did I say about getting unnecessary cards?!”
“Unnecessary?” you gwak. “Look at the kid! What part of me defending her was unnecessary?”
You backtrack. “Look at both of the kids.” You gesture wildly between Alessia and Kyra. 
Lia rolls her eyes but follows your fingers nonetheless. 
“Ma’s never going to let Less leave our house ever again, and Mini will probably drop by to kidnap Kyra and revoke our Australian baby access!”
“I’m not a baby--”
“Ma can’t stop me from moving out--”
You and Lia whip around to glare at Alessia. “You’re not moving out.”
Alessia frowns. “Whatever.” She crosses her arms. “Kyra’s a baby.”
The younger girl gasps in defiance before whimpering at the pain that radiates through her nose.
Lia looks a little exasperated when she turns back to you.
“Please. No more red cards.”
“No more red cards,” you echo. 
When Lia grabs hold of your hand, leading you back to be chewed out by your captains, you turn to get one last glance at the two troublemakers.
Alessia and Kyra are already looking your way, shooting you two thumbs up.
You shake your head.
Oh the things you do for family.
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evilminji · 1 year
Text
:T Hello there, Thought(tm) of the day...
I? Just remembered that Constantine's "Laughing Magician"(?) title is... f*ckin HEREDITARY?
Like?? As in The Constantine Meances have been out here, harrasing divinity and demons alike for GENERATIONS on behalf of a Good Time, the Lols, and probably Humanity if they can be arsed and you make a good case.
W... What chance would there even BE of at least like? HALF those f*ckers(conflicted but affectionate) NOT becoming Realms Ghosts? With the sh*t they're exposed too? With THEIR luck??
You think DEATH can trick them? Take them away for good? Take away the local Rat B@stard, Tricks Gods Just To See If He Can, Fate Is My Second Mistress and I Cuckold Glory On Your Mother's Bed, Constantine?
They run down main street, *ss in the breeze, wearing someone else's shirt and two shoes that don't match, not a stitch else, like run away lovers. Let Death TRY and catch them. Sorry, Luv, it's not them, it's definitely you.
..........I bet they're the wooooorst~~✨️
No joke, I bet they set up a whole *ss TOWN of Constantine.
Where the odds are in THEIR favor, gods fear to tread, and reality straight out stops working right. Like Diagonal Ally for B*stards, extended to a whole floating island. Everyone's related. It's Chaos. They can barely stand each other. Would sell each other for a toothpick.
Mess with ANY off them... and you can kiss your afterlife good bye.
They have NO neighbors because both no ones dumb enough to get NEAR them AND no one can stand to be around that many Constantines at once. The physical Manifestation of Fate wants to take the whole LOT of the handsy F*CKS to court for child support and a restraining order.
Somehow... they keep getting Earth Booze.
They SHOULDN'T have access. It's been anywhere from decade to centuries since they died. Millennium for a few. Howms't The F*CK, do they keep getting cheap gin and vodka? Bourbon and beer? Even the odd fruity cocktail for funnies.
Please... PLEASE! Tell the Zone at large, that their innate birthright powers STOPPED at Death. They... they are just REALLY good at smuggling right? Excellent con men?
Tell us they can't f*ckin PREDICT AND INFLUENCE Natural Portals!!!
*smug sipping noises from a large room full of Dead @ssholes*
Okay... They Won't Tell You~ 🍺🍺🍺🍺🍺 *siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip*
Now! I hear you ask? Why are John's Terrible, Terrible, God Awful Ghostly Relatives relevant? Absurdly powerful as they are... they seem to take the afterlife as an extended "Ha! GET F*CKED, DEMONS WHO WANTED MY SOUL!" Vacation/Family get together.
Minded their business and expected everyone to mind THEIRS, or ELSE.
Didn't give two solitary SH*TS that Pariah woke from his little nappy-poo to cause a tantrum. After all, in their family? When DOESN'T some "great and terrible Power That Be" get itself in a snit? Meh... it's baby Johnny's turn to clean sh*t up. Best of luck to 'im~!
But THEN!
They must've been drinking... making out with their equally terrible and bamf trainwreck significant others... sitting around playing "who can cheat best at cards"... when? Huh.
Never seen the Fate and The Odds... STRANGLE like that.
Billions of billions of What-Ifs, Maybes, Could-bes, and more... suddenly YANKED towards a single spot. The allowance of Only One Outcome. Almost like what they can do, but... not, WRONG, per say...
Just... impossible.
There's NEVER.. JUST one way this plays out. You can control the big notes. The script. But the details and set dressing will always decide themselves.
NO ONE can just... Decide What Will Happen. And yet?
...............was....... was that Little Johnny? Has to be. Right? Where's his old man? Oi! Was that your Kid??! John's closest relatives are baffled. Nope. They can still feel him laying a beat down on some demon in Norway. So then? Who?
How?
Well mark them CURIOUS(tm).
They decide to actually get up. Put their various drinks and cards down. Put pants on. Somebody's done something... INTERESTING(TM) and they want to know what's up. So? Off they trot.
It's traumatizing for everyone who sees them. The Constantines have breached f*ckin B*stard Containment and are spilling into the Zone. On this! The DAY Pariah Waged A War! THEY JUST GOT RID OF HIM!
And Danny? His everything hurts. The Eyeballs are starting to come out of the woodwork and ARGUE about him like he's not even there. He's DANGEROUS blah blah blah. Give them the crown. Right now! Etc etc.
Somethings telling him not too.
It's... it's HIS isn't it? Has been for centuries and seconds. And... and... everyone one of him is King. There is only one of him. The Zone covers all the multiverse and all of the Hims that were and aren't here and helped and... and...! His head is starting to hurt.
But the more they try to push him to hand it over, the less he feels like unhanding the dang gaudy thing. No. His now. He'll use it as a DOOR stopper if he dang well feels like it! Stop yelling.
Then all these blonde ghosts saunter in... and all he can think is "F*ck. I think they noticed."
Huh?
@stealingyourbones @cyrwrites @bjurnberg @the-witchhunter @hdgnj
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nanaslutt · 9 months
Note
omg i NEEDDDD you to write a fic based on that sukuna drabble u posted 🙏🙏 i know a good fight would get him oh so worked up
it’s short but i wanted to expand a little…
contains: death, blood, blood as lube (accidental), masturbation, masochism dare i say, multiple orgasms, fantasizing
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
Sukuna held his hand over his cheek where his opponent had landed a hit on him. One hand gripped around his cock, one hand on his face. His eyes were squeezed shut as he groaned shamelessly into the space of his innate domain. He tried to put himself back in the fight in his head, trying to recreate the feeling of how he felt when he actually felt the slash of his opponent's weapon cutting through his skin. The sheer adrenaline, the shock, it was rare that Sukuna crossed paths with a worthy opponent.
Most of the beings he fought were like squashing a bug. He could step on the rat's tail and let it try to run away under his foot, poke it with his claws, and watch it scream and whine for their life for his own enjoyment, and sure that brought him joy, but this--this was something else. This was a carnal, deep feeling of something so pure and so primal. He could recall how his heart sped up in his chest when he felt the sting, the brief moment of relaxation on his features before a grin spread across his face, his cheeks heating up at the realization that this was going to be more interesting than he initially thought.
The being had only hit him once, just once, barely hard enough to cut through the skin, but it was more than enough to set Sukuna's veins on fire. The rest of the fight had been a steady back and forth, Sukuna having to be on both the offense and defense at times with how well his partner fought. In the end though, of course, he had emerged victorious. He stood in front of the body of his deceased opponent, staring down at them with bloodshot eyes, heaving breaths wracking his chest; not from exhaustion, but from arousal.
Sukuna kept his eyes on the blood-soaked body, watching the once-living being twitch and bleed out under him, a pool of crimson liquid reaching his feet, sliding under his shoes through the cracks in the earth. He was hard, throbbing in his pants, his cock threatening to burst through the slacks at any moment.
He always got worked up like this when someone was able to match him. Sukuna hated nothing more than weak people, so when someone was able to stand toe to toe, and actually land a hit on the curse? He had to fight through his malicious laughs to keep his groans at bay.
He would stand there and stare at the body of his deceased, but worthy opponent all day if he could, but when the throbbing proved to be too much for the old sorcerer, he crawled away back inside Yuuji's head, letting the pink-haired boy deal with the aftermath of his messy fight, he had an urgent matter to attend to.
"Fuck fuck fuck- Yes-" Sukuna growled, planted on his knees on the floor of his domain as he fucked into his fist, his hand meeting his rough thrusts as he kept his eyes screwed tight, repeating the exact moment he had gotten attacked in his mind.
He kept his hand over his cheek, nails digging into the skin as he tried to mimic the sensation he felt, never quite getting there but close enough to make him spill his seed on the ground in front of him with a loud groan, his body jerking and spasming as he released a large load, some of the white liquid coating his fingers.
His hand slowed for maybe a second as he cracked his eyes open, looking down at the seed he released before his face heated up again, his cock still hard and throbbing in his large palm. Blood had begun dripping down his cheek, slowly teasing the skin of his neck as it dripped down, over the veins under the skin as he picked up his jerking again.
"Again.. again- again- again- Fuck- Hit me again- Cmon' you can do it-" He groaned under his breath, speaking to his opponent in his head as he replayed the fight for the nth time in his head. He knew they had only hit him once but the thrill of thinking he might've hit them again made his balls tighten with the need for release.
Sometimes though, the self-inflicted pain he knew was coming from his own hand digging into his cheek wouldn't be enough. He craved the adrenaline of when the unexpected impact had first happened. He would sit back on his feet, abandoning his blood-covered hand on his cheek and wrapping it around his cock, joining the other one as he used two massive hands to squeeze and jerk his length, rapidly stroking as he tried to fuck this feeling out of his body.
He felt so out of control, he felt like this was something he needed to do or he would die. Heavy breaths wracked his chest as he stared down at his hands enveloping his leaky dick, his face scrunched in pleasure with a slacked jaw to match. "nnngh-" The king groaned, clenching his teeth together when he spilled once more over the ground in front of him.
His body fell forward, his hands catching himself on the cum-stained floor, cock twitching freely in the air below him as he tried to catch his breath. He felt slightly more relaxed than he felt after the first orgasm, but he still felt like he needed to come again, and again, and again, until all the adrenaline had released through his heavy balls.
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leafostuff · 4 months
Text
One Heck of a Joyride[Ft. WooAh's Nana]
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Word Count: 14-15K~ words
Collab with @octoberautumnbox
My Author's Notes: we are so excited to finally release this fic for yall, me and box have been working on this fic since the end of FEBRUARY (almost 3 months) and we have been working on it so hard to make it the best it can be so I really hope you will enjoy this fic
@octoberautumnbox's author notes: there u have it! took the better part of three months, but it was really fun to work on :DDDD Thanks to leafo for making sure i didn't slack LMAO
No tags since it is too long but this is fluff and smut
Thanks: of course @octoberautumnbox for working with me on this amazing collab. @4m1rz for being my lovely beta reader and @libraryoferos for being my motivation to not be lazy on this fic
And so without any further preface, let's get started, shall we?
================================================
“And I expect you all to get along this year. Leave the past behind you as you all face a new future together.” Sporadic applause rises slowly from the crowd and dies down twice as quickly. The dean sighs away from the mic and drifts offstage, leaving everyone disinterested in the rest of the program. It all goes by in a blur, and finally ends right as the air conditioners start to fail against the heat of a summer not-yet-ended. 
Your attention is drawn away from the droning on and on from the stage and towards the many characters that populate the theater with you. You catch glimpses of people talking with their friends, a few crazy hair colours, and the occasional sleeping student who’s no doubt already saving up hours for the all-nighters to come. 
Out of the corner of your eye, you notice someone in the front row with both people sitting next to her conspicuously leaning away. They seem to want to get up and leave her there by herself, but the way she gives no reaction despite the jeering tone coming from her seatmates leads you to think that she’s asleep herself. 
~~~
“So yeah, That's the tour, bucko. Check the map if you’re ever lost.” Your student tour guide points at the multi-colored document on your phone. Vaguely you recall the various little symbols: which classrooms you can sleep in, which bathrooms are haunted, which shortcuts are best, all of the must-know basics of college life. 
As you continue scanning around the campus, the girl from the assembly catches your attention again. She has her hood up this time, but you can tell it’s her; her quick pacing and how she is not looking around at anyone making you believe that she’s trying her best to hide.
“What about that one? Do we not talk about her?” you ask, pointing at the oblivious figure walking past, drawing eyes and whispers much like your own. 
Your guide scoffs at the absurd idea. “That’s Nayeon. And no, we don’t. She fucked up last year, big time. Got a bunch of us in trouble. So stay away from her, she has those goody-two-shoes germs.” he says, walking away as while signaling you to follow him.
You wonder what she could have done to gain such a reputation. She was adorable earlier with her hood off, but the way people talk about her makes you want to steer clear against your own will. 
~-~-~-~
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Curiosity ends up killing the cat, and you manage to gather bits and pieces of the incident from last year from gossip, class lore, and even the way some professors acted:
“She’s the luckiest bitch in the world with not a single shred of common sense. Seriously, who goes and rats on a hundred other students like that?”
“The test incident shows she only looks out for herself, even if it means bringing down the entire class.”
“There’s really no excuse for it. You have the answer key in your hand, of course you take a picture! You don’t just leave it where it’ll incriminate some other innocent loser and say you’re only trying to do the right fucking thing.”
The sheer number of factoids you gather from the wild bunch of sources only slightly make sense. Unfortunately, trying to piece them together only took up more space and brainpower which you should have used to study for your midterms coming up. Keep to yourself and you can just barely pass and move on; there is no time for college drama.
After the exam, you approach the professor to ask about possibly bumping up your grade. You decided to maybe half-ass an extra credit assignment and get the lowest passing score, but you resolve to just see where it goes. While lost in thought, you nearly bump into the small girl in front of you. already talking to the teacher, and by the way they’re whispering, it seems like it’s something serious. 
“I’m not sure what you’re trying to do here anymore, Miss Kwon,” the professor admits as he takes off his glasses and rubs his nose bridge. “None of this was necessary. I thought we wanted to leave all this behind us.”
Nayeon looks down to her toes in defeat. “I’m sorry, Sir. I was just thinking, maybe I’d get sent out of class this time.” Her voice cracks, giving away her vulnerable state: she’s near tears but trying to fight everything back to look tough. Sadly for her, you think, none of it is working.
“Look, just try to lay low. It’s your last year before all of this starts to not matter anymore.” Your professor finally puts his glasses back on and looks Nayeon straight in the eye. “Trust me, you’re better off keeping your head down. You’ll be fine.”
She walks despondently off to the right and out the door. Your feet choose to follow her, but a sudden jolt restores your common sense. “And you, Mister New Guy, what seems to be the problem? Beside your dismal score, that is.”
You have a slight feeling you are not getting a higher score.
~-~-~
After talking it out fruitlessly with the professor, he releases you from his classroom and you make your way out. The conversation with him didn’t take long, and so you arrive to a few jeers and muffled laughter once you step outside.
“Serves her right. Trying all this bullshit isn’t gonna change anything.” 
“Seriously, cheating on a test she obviously studied for? How dense could she be?”
“I bet she just wants to show us up. She’ll study and then cheat, then she gets perfect marks on the test and she’ll show us she’s untouchable again.” 
You find it hard to believe that Nayeon would resort to something as convoluted and pointless as that, but then again, you really don’t know her to make a judgment. Whatever she was thinking, you agree that it was idiotic to pull that sort of thing, even if you didn’t see any of it.
The weather on campus is the right mix of cloudy and sunny, with rays of light shining respectfully on the grass and pavement of your college courtyard. Something tells you that people-watching by the gym feels like the perfect lunchtime activity for a day like this, so you find your way to the properly noisy setting and look for a spot out of the way. 
You settle on a spot by the side of the gym with the perfect amount of shade and wind, but you’re instead drawn further back to the rear by strange and irregular noises. Turning the last corner, you’re met with a surprising figure.
It was Nayeon, sitting with her back against one of the walls, her entire body curled up like a ball. You slowly inch closer and closer to her, and you realize the strange noises that you heard before were instead sniffles and cries coming from the lonely girl. Finally as you get close enough, Nayeon feels your presence and raises her head.
Her eyes were full of tears, who knows for how long she had been crying, and you could feel the sadness coming from her eyes; they were trying to tell you something, however, it's hard to figure out what. Her expression of sadness didn't stay for long though as soon enough her expression turns angry when you get closer to her, squatting down to look at the girl from a closer angle.
“Please, go away. Leave me alone.” The small girl pushes you away, but with her hand preoccupied wiping away her tears, she can’t do much to get rid of you. 
“What the fuck is wrong with you? You have the nerve to do what you did last year and still show your face?” The anger in your voice catches you off guard. Since when did you take it personally when it came to her?
“Oh fuck off, new guy,” she taunts. “So I’m fucking hiding here, what more do you want?” She tries to act tough again, but it’s painfully apparent to both of you that it isn’t working. At this point, you really do just want to leave her alone. And just like every other time, nothing’s stopping you. So why are you staying?
You breathe a sigh of defeat at the situation you find yourself in. “Look, I don’t have any sort of beef with you personally, but come on. This is pathetic. You’re only embarrassing yourself by doing all this bullshit that isn’t like you at all.”
“And what if it’s not like me?!” Her shout sends a few birds hiding in nearby bushes to take off. This sort of language takes you aback from her; Little Miss Perfect Kwon Nayeon, top honour student, teacher’s favourite pet, hating herself? 
“I… I don’t like being me, and I don’t like what I am.” She wipes her tears again and tries (and fails) to look you in the eyes once more. “So if you’re another member of the ‘I hate Nayeon’ club, well… Better show the club president some respect.”
She sits back down with her back against the wall. Nayeon's eyes are wet for the last time before she wipes them off and faces her lack of tears.
Normally in situations like those you would just walk away and ignore people like those for the rest of the school year, but for some reason with Nayeon in front of you, showing herself being weak, fragile, and sad, something about her makes it so you can't leave the situation alone. Curiosity gets the best of you, and you have to know why.
“No,” you turn back to her as a determined expression is painted on your face.
“What?”
“I'm not leaving you alone until you tell me.” You stand your ground, arms crossed, and Nayeon can't seem to be any more pissed than before. “What is going on? What do you mean you don't like yourself?” you ask.
For a while, no one dares to speak another word, and you wonder if what you have here is an argument. For a good few seconds, she stares at you intently as silence hangs heavy in the air. 
“You think,” she says defeatedly between sniffles, “that I'm Little Miss Perfect, right? Like everyone calls me ‘the straight-A girl?’ Well I’m not, and I’m tired of everyone saying so.” She fishes out a very used handkerchief from her pocket and wipes her eyes of tears, only for them to be replaced by more. 
“It can’t be that bad, Nayeon. People look up to you, I’m sure.” You finally notice your alarms are blaring and you’re put on high alert. What you just said was the exact wrong thing to say, and you’re at critical risk of involving yourself in her messy situation more than you should.
She side-eyes you, calculating if you’re being sincere or not. She stuffs her handkerchief back into her pocket carelessly as if knowing that she’ll only pull it back out again soon. She looks down at her hands, deep in thought, looking like she’s trying to grapple with something she might regret. 
Once she’s done, she fumbles around in her backpack. She fishes out a tiny black notebook she seems to keep so well hidden, on the cover of the notebook the words ‘Nana’s Bucket List’ are scrawled in big, bold, immature-looking letters.
“Throughout all of my life, I always wanted to be the top student, the best of the best like no one ever was, and I succeeded, you know…” she scoffs. “Top marks in Elementary, Middle school, and Valedictorian in high school.” She sighs and tries to fight back more tears, though you notice she’s a bit more successful this time, with a bit of hope and yearning in her eyes.
"But on the other side… The other side seems so great. I mean, I see all these movies and books about college life," she says in between residual sobs and hiccups. She opens the notebook, showing you a not-so-long list, and even though it's hard to see the text from the small size of the writing, you can make out a little bit of what’s written on the paper.
Cheat on a test 
Get drunk
Party all night
Dye my hair
Sing in an Open stage show
Sneak into a Public pool
Shoplifting
You know...
Most of what you read makes zero sense, and you’re half-convinced this girl is just crazy. You stare at the scribbled letters, hoping to draw more meaning from them, but Nayeon shuts the little notebook in your face and starts putting it back away. 
"I want to do them all. Drinking, breaking glass bottles, partying, all that stuff," she explains dreamily. She zips up her bag and pats it down, making sure it’s secure beside her, and turns her attention back to you, “I want to live like a normal girl, you know what I mean?” she asks, you are not sure if its because of the tears, but her eyes seem to glitter.
"That's very cliche, Nana," you jab at her, making fun of the nickname she gave herself.
"That's all I know, though. Please." She takes your hand in between hers and looks up at you, teary-eyed and seemingly begging for her life.”This wouldn’t kill you, all I’m asking for is some help crossing stuff off of the list.”
You hate how well it works on you: her big, round eyes, her adorable little pout, her cute pleading voice. It goes against everything you know, and even now you’re sure you don’t want to get involved in whatever this would turn out to be. And yet, despite even the most deeply ingrained lessons you’ve learned for yourself, all it takes is a brief moment for it to come crashing down.
With a disbelieving sigh and a sense of regret creeping in, you ask: “What’s in it for me?”
~-~-~-~
You take a bite of your burger and breathe out. Cheap bun, dubious patty, artificial cheese, it all takes you back to a past life. You're left to momentarily wonder how you ended up where you are now, and slowly it comes back to you. You messed up.
"So, about the list." Nayeon sets down her cup, ice cubes clinking against each other as they swirl around her soda. "I already did one. So that’s one less thing for us to do”.
"I can do that much math, Nayeon. What do you take me for?" You chomp down on a few fries grumpily. 
"I didn't mean it like that. All I'm saying is there are just a few more months left until graduation, so we'll need to be quick. We can’t be lazy about this." She pulls out the little black notebook and flips to an unfamiliar page. The words "cheat on a test" has doodles of a devil's horns and wings and tail around it, with lots of eyes and ears decorating the rest of the ruled paper. Above it, the poster you recognize from the movie "Bad Genius" is copied, albeit crudely, in a thought bubble.
"I did this one last year, don't ask. Anyway, this next one should be easy enough." She flips to the next page, showing a couple pictures of beer cups and wine bottles, surrounding the words “Get Drunk.”
“Wait, is this the ‘incident’ people hate you for? What even happened there?” You eat more of your fries, trying to hide your curiosity. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work and she nips the conversation in the bud.
“That’s not anything you need to know. What matters is now and the future. Now are you with me or not?” She snaps the notebook closed and yanks it away from your sight, back into the pocket she keeps it in. 
“I can’t help if I don’t know what exactly your deal is,” you say disappointedly. You pick up your own drink and take a sip, and the cool soda washes over your tongue and throat on the way down. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be with everything that’s going on.”
For a moment, you catch Nayeon’s gaze on you, dumbfounded. You could almost hear the gears in her head turning as she tries to process your logic, but it takes a while. As she thinks, though, you take a particular interest in how she handles it: her mouth is hanging slightly ajar and her eyes are only half-focused on wherever they’re pointed. You notice how delicately her bangs fall on her forehead, how her eyebrows furrow and crease, how she tries finding the right words yet can’t find the message she wants to send. Odd things to notice, surely, and yet here you are. You messed up.
It starts coming back to you. The jeers from your classmates as you walk down the hall grow louder in your ears, and you fight against your hands trying to cover them with the knowledge that none of it is real anymore. The tears you fight back all the time surface for another rematch, but with your current state, you may be at a disadvantage. 
Fortunately, she shocks you back into reality. “Hey, are you listening? I’m feeding you, so the least you could do is pay attention.” She bites a small chunk of her burger and chews, and you notice how her cheeks puff slightly and the corner of her mouth is decorated with a dollop of mustard. 
Cute.
1 + 2. Get drunk + Party All Night
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“God, this is stupid,” you think to yourself, exiting the convenience store. With a plastic bag in your right hand and your phone in your left hand, checking the time and the address Nayeon sent you earlier today. Finding it was easier than you expected, and you tried not to let the walk to her dorm set any expectations for you.
You bring your knuckles to the wooden door and make three quick raps. It swings open very quickly and you’re dragged into the cozy space without even the slightest chance to take off your shoes. 
“You took forever! Did you bring the stuff?” She looks all over you and pats you down, looking for what you brought her. 
“Get off, will you? I put them all in my bag like a normal person.” You swing your backpack off your shoulder and carefully place it onto a nearby table. Nayeon takes a seat and waits excitedly for what you brought for the two of you. From your bag, you produce three bottles of soju, three five-packs of Yakult, six cans of beer, and four bags of chips. She eyes each item with absolute interest as they leave your backpack, and she hardly contains herself once you finish and zip up your bag once more. 
“Okay, so how does this work?” Her eyes sparkle with wonder, and while waiting for your instructions, it was clear that as much as she was excited, she was also inexperienced.
“First off, get us some shot glasses and a pitcher. Oh, and a can opener.” Nayeon bolts off to the cooking area, and you can hear drawers opening and shutting loudly. You start getting concerned when you hear plates start to clatter against each other, but thankfully it dies down quickly and she returns with two small glasses, a decently sized pitcher, and a can opener. 
“Shit. I meant bottle. Bottle opener.” Without even a hint of annoyance, she rushes back off into the kitchen and, after a few more rummaging sounds, she returns with the correct item. She really must not know what she’s doing.
“Come on, show me!” She shoves the bottle opener into your hand, and you’re left with no choice. 
“Don’t you have a roommate we have to worry about?” You pop the cap off one of the soju bottles and then tear the aluminum top off two bottles of Yakult. “She’s out with her own friends. Hurry!” Despite her starting to get on your nerves, you pour all three into the pitcher and swirl them around together. Once you’re done, you pour the mixture into each of the glasses until they’re full. 
“Bottoms up, Nayeon.” 
“Bottoms up!”
The both of you down your drinks: yours slowly crawls down your throat, but hers disappears straight into her stomach. She reels at the burning lines left by the alcohol all over her esophagus and takes a bit of time to recover. 
“Whoa, that was,” she says, and a burp erupts from her mouth, “intense.” She sways a little bit to the left before righting herself, and then overcompensates to lean to the left again. 
“Easy there, champ. We’ve got two more bottles to go through.” You pour another shot for each of you, hers first and then yours, and raise your glass once more.
“Open the chips now,” you tell her. “This’ll be less dreadful with food.” 
Both of you down your shots at the same time, and Nayeon reels at the sensation once more. 
“Does that get easier?” Her speech is slowly starting to slur, the poor thing. “I’m kinda feeling a little something right now, too…”
“Yes, but only if you keep going at it, idiot. Don’t down everything so quickly.” Grab one of the bags of chips yourself, open and present it to Nayeon on the center of the table.
“Eat. You’ll hate this less.” You take a handful of chips and bring all of them into your mouth. Once you do, you raise your eyebrow at her to tell her to do the same.
“Isn’t… *hic* being hungry the thing for… faster drunk?” 
“Apparently so, Nayeon. I don’t even know what I expected from you.” You take another shot, alone this time. She tries to pour her own shot, but fails miserably at getting the liquid anywhere near the inside of her shot glass. It’s adorable how she tries, though.
You pour her another shot despite a small voice telling you maybe she isn’t cut out for this much in such a short time. You shove the voice aside in favor of Nayeon’s own words: “We pregame, drink a little, and then we go. Party starts at 7:30, so we leave here by 7 o’clock.” Her shot glass fills with the drink, and you place it in front of her, making sure at least to keep an eye out for what might happen next. 
She successfully picks up the glass and, sans the spills she made on the glass's way from the table to her mouth, drinks everything she could. She slams the glass onto the table in no light movement and you have a slight inkling of regret at letting her do that to herself. 
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“You… We have to… Fuck.” Nayeon’s head droops and she catches her face with her hands. She may have underestimated how strong soju is, or maybe what being drunk actually does to a person. A groan emanates from behind her palms, and you notice she’s having trouble holding herself up. 
“Aren’t we going out after this? You might wanna slow down, idiot.” You pour yourself another shot and drink it leisurely. Nayeon tries leaning back onto the chair, and she finally pries her hands away from her eyes. She does a few quick blinks, and she tries to focus her sight on you. Her head sways a little bit, and it dawns on you that you may have overestimated her. 
“I’m okay… just… we have to go.” She tries to stand up, but she wobbles dangerously and you have to catch her. Dive under her and take on her weight, thankfully not too heavy, and keep her from hitting the floor. She mumbles a bit about something you can only kind of understand, but it's enough to guide your next decision.
“Forget it,” you grunt as you plop her back into her chair, “we're not going anywhere.” An exasperated sigh leaves your lungs, and you head off to the kitchen to return with a large bottle of cold water.
“No… we have to go. We'll be late.” Nayeon tries to get up again, but there's no strength left in her body. She sits motionlessly, probably thinking that she's already stood up, and it gives way to a confused look on her face as to why she's still in the same place.
You fill a proper-sized glass with water and hand it to her, which she drinks obediently. You fill her palm with potato chips which she also eats without objection. The way her jaw moves, clumsy and slow, signals a threat that she might just fall over any minute.
You move your chair to her side and sit there, allowing Nayeon to lean her head on you. Her hair covers her reddening face, and her hiccups arrive in growing force.
“If you're still in there, Nayeon,” you say quietly, “we're not going out. I can't look after you this closely at a party.” All she does to respond is nod. Her hiccups are punctuated intermittently with sniffles, which you take as a sign that she knows she has no power left to object. 
Still, you feel bad for her as her plans fall through. Despite the responsible thing to do, put her to bed and leave, you kick yourself mentally before deciding to stay anyway.
“Movies and snacks?”
~-~-~-~
Before you know it, the night goes by just as quick. You go through the list of movies she’d always wanted to watch: The Truman Show, The Great Gatsby, Mean Girls, and even then there’s still a few left on her list. You could tell she was watching properly halfway through the first, and that was the telltale sign that she’d sobered up. 
You drink a bit more with her in between movies, and she would frequently pause to get up and put on a song to dance to. “It keeps me awake,” she said, “I can’t fall asleep before the good part happens.” The songs she put on are generic pop and the kinds you skip whenever they come up, but you let it pass for tonight.
At some point, she pulls out an old Wii and challenges you to Mario Kart. “I am undefeated in this game. I’m not even that good, everyone else that challenged me just sucked.” You take her up on her offer, and the match begins. You try and almost get ahead of her in a few of the turns, but she would always take back her lead at the slightest opportunity of you hitting a wall or missing an item. And the way she glows with pride every single time she crosses the finish line before you do, the sudden brightness that fills her face when she wins race after race, the confidence it gives her that she isn’t actually the worst person in the world, all of it is a sight to behold. People may see Kwon Nayeon as an arrogant goody-two-shoes traitor, but the way you see her now is different: just someone with a past to outgrow. 
Right as the last movie’s credits start rolling, mischievous thin rays of dawn sunlight slip past the tiny gaps in the curtains. Both you and Nayeon have little energy left for anything else, and you maybe think it’s time to call it a night and go home.
“Let me walk you out,” she says while trying to rub the sleep out of her eyes for a little bit longer. You both get up and walk to the door, and as it opens your faces are flooded with a world right before it wakes. Dewdrops sit respectfully on leaves and blades of grass, birds are only starting to stretch their wings, and the crisp morning air fills your lungs with a calm grace. 
You turn back to Nayeon, who you find is still admiring the dawn, and grasp her elbow. “Sit with me.” 
You both squat down and take your seats again on her doorstep. Clouds roll in and dot the sky, wandering on the blank canvas of today, eagerly waiting for sunlight to block out. The sun peeks over the horizon and the first proper rays start to arrive, spreading warmth where they land. Nayeon meets your eyes one last time, and the pair of you find a sleepy and still a bit drunk person when you look at each other.
“Well,” you say as if it was a farewell, “good night, Nayeon. And good morning.”
“Good night,” she giggles back, “and good morning to you too.”
3. Sneak into a Public Pool
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“Are you sure about this?” Nana’s tone is subdued by fear. Her voice shakes and struggles to be as quiet as possible, but at the same time you get the feeling that if you didn’t need to be quiet, she’d be yelling right now and trying to get the both of you to leave.
“Can you please shut up? I’m trying to focus!” You find the first of the pins and push it out of the way. For a moment, you lament how restricted you are: this could have been such a simple lock to break, replace even, but the girl dragging you around was deathly insistent on leaving as little damage and evidence as possible. 
“You shut up! I'm whispering here!” Anger rises in her voice, and you almost feel anger in yours too. You're able to stop it though, and you remind yourself that if ever a guard was on watch that actually cared about this place, they'd be easily outrun.
The lock presents more of a challenge than you thought; despite the agonizingly simple solution of snapping its shackle, its inner mechanisms are harder to crack for whatever reason. Taking it pin by pin is supposed to be an easy task, but the warm and humid air and the incessant nagging seem to debilitate you. It’s such a nice night out for a swim, why make this any harder than it needs to be?
After what seemed like eternity you finally manage to pick the lock, sighing in relief as the both of you head forward quietly, but cautiously looking side to side just in case. The metal-grate door swings open slowly, avoiding any creaking sounds it may make otherwise, and the both of you enter the pool area.
“I gotta say Nayeon, this went better than I thought it would,” you say, both of you looking at the rectangular box of water which unlike during the day, was completely still, no waves, no splashes, just the water. It glistened and reflected all manner of light: the pool lights above and below the water, the yellow street lamps far off on the sidewalk, and the moon overhead, singing tones of wonder and mystery to those touched by its borrowed glow.
Off to the side, you find Nayeon fiddling with the hem of her shirt. Her head whips round incessantly as she tries to keep a lookout of the surroundings rather poorly. Sigh a deep one, and finally go over and take your seat next to her. 
“Thanks… gimme a sec.” She finally grabs the hem decisively. The fabric crumples a bit under her grip and folds as it's pulled up.
You can’t help but watch as the shirt starts to leave her body, revealing a slim and toned tummy underneath. Your breath hitches as it crawls higher, reaching her face and obscuring her sight, and she inadvertently shows off a dark purple sports bra that’s… a size too small. Your gaze lingers on her cleavage and the flesh of her boobs lightly spilling out of the garment.
Nana turns around and you’re treated with the view of a beautiful back and shoulders to die for. The way her body twists and turns in the slightest ways to negotiate the shirt off of her form is the most sensual dance you’ve ever seen.
And you realize you’re staring. Fortunately for you, she doesn’t seem to notice, and she continues on to fold the shirt properly before setting it next to her sports bag. You opt not to risk staring any longer, and you decide to get rid of your own shirt. You strip quickly, and your shirt flies off approximately near Nayeon’s things in a messy pile by itself.
Sit on the edge of the pool, dip your feet into the water. There’s absolutely no reason for it to be this warm, you think, but whatever the case may be, it feels like a tea that’s just about to go cold. This, coupled with the humid air and quiet atmosphere, makes for a perfect night to spend on whatever this is with her. 
She joins you and takes her seat at the edge of the pool, and in every other situation, you’d ask her to back off a bit. Instead, as she lays her head on your shoulder and takes your hand in between hers, you lose your steel in the most important of times. 
“I’m scared.” Her eyes never leave the water, taking in the light dancing on its surface. Her face is fraught with worry, and while you know it’s for no good reason, you nevertheless try to reassure her.
“Yeah, someone might jump out of the bushes and arrest us for swimming in a swimming pool,” you say mockingly. “They’re gonna take us to court on the charges of ‘using something the way it was meant to be used’ and we’re gonna get life sentences. When we’re all old and wrinkly they’re gonna sit us in the electric chair.”
“Okay, I get your point. But still, though, I’m scared.” She grips your hand tighter, and for some reason you can’t resist her. Place your other hand over hers and try to calm her down. Nana takes a deep breath with her eyes closed, and finally looks at you with a reserved grin.
“Alright, I’m good. Let’s go.” 
You feel her hand on your back, and warmth spreads from her palm. Her smile grows just a bit wider and her eyes follow suit. Her teeth show themselves from between her lips, and you’re almost tempted to dive right in. 
Lucky for you, she helps. The hand on her back suddenly applies more pressure, pushing you to the pool and causing a splash going all directions. Collect your thoughts and raise your head above the water to see Nana, face full of laughter, right before she dives in the water with you.
It takes a second, but her head resurfaces and you find yourself relieved. She catches her breath once more, and before you know it, you're met with a faceful of chlorinated water. “What are you staring at?” She says between hearty laughs. 
Wipe the water from your face, find the humor. Laugh with her, and face her properly.
Another shade of Kwon Nayeon. Granted, it's one with no makeup and way less clothes than usual, but none of that takes away from her natural, elegant beauty. It's captivating, the way her figure glides around the water, the way the cool night air wisps around the pair of you, the way the moon throws its rays around the world, your world, so haphazardly. 
Another faceful of water, and you snap out of your daze. “Creepy ass,” she snorts happily. She splashes you again, and this time you fight back. 
“Race you around the pool.” You start paddling, and the water grows loud against your ears. She says something back to you and starts paddling herself to catch up.
“Yeah,” you think to yourself, “whatever this is with her.”
4. Sing in an Open Mic
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“Another night, another goal,” you muse, sitting in your car with Nayeon in the passenger seat. It has become quite a routine that every time she wants to do something on her bucket list she asks you to pick her up. You don’t mind too much — she pays for gas after all. 
“Where do we go this time?” Nayeon just shoves her phone in your face, showing a map with directions to some bar out of town. She looks at you expectantly, but without any more information than what you’re currently getting, you’re at a loss for what she’s trying to make you see.
“A club.”
“Exactly.”
“We already did ‘get drunk.’”
“I know. This is different.”
“How so?”
“Take me here. Make me sing. Take me home.”
The pieces connect in her head and she pulls out the notebook again. She flips to a page you again haven’t seen, and when she shows it to you you’re treated to the sight of “Open Mic Stage” in graffiti-style letters and the poster of “Wedding Singer” scrawled in the bottom right corner of the page. 
“If you have the map, why not just do this yourself? You didn’t need to wait for me. If anything, I’d only laugh at how bad you might be.” You push away her phone and notebook, choosing to return your attention to the sidewalk instead. The boba tea place you keep hearing about is nearby. 
“That’s the thing,” Nayeon interjects again, “I have been there before. I listened to all the people singing, and they’re… some are good. I don’t know if I am, but I got shy at the last minute and I never even got near the stage.” She grabs your sleeve and your attention. “I need you to make me sing. Don’t let me chicken out.”
You shrug, “Sure, let's do it.”
~-~-~-~
Taking up two seats at the bar, you try and seem to fail at helping Nayeon calm down. Her guitar rests against the bartop beside her while she fans herself hurriedly with her hand. “It’s so nerve-racking… I knew this was a mistake,” she adds before turning back and trying to leave the place, however, you stop her in her tracks
“Come on, you worked so hard for this,” you say, recalling the number of recordings she sent you: one for each take she was doing. “You can do this,” you continue reassuring her, knowing she’s more ready than ever. At the same time, you could see your friend get more nervous by the second, now taking more sips of her water bottle.
“But what if I miss a chord, or I sing badly? Everyone will laugh at my mist–'' You know at this point she’ll only spiral to worse and worse thoughts, so you nip it in the bud and stop her right there. You take both her shoulders in your hands, making Nayeon stop her nervous rambling, and her cheeks turn a shade of pink.
“I believe in you, Nana. just take a deep breath.” You stop to let her do as you say, taking a deep breath in and slowly breathing it out. The tension leaves her with each breath she takes, and you find a moment to keep her stable. “Good, I am sitting right here, not leaving for any reason, so if you feel nervous, just find me. Look at me.” Her gaze softens at your promise, and her lips form a tiny smile in response to your words. 
Hearing the current open mic singer finishing up his song, you send her off with some final words. “Your turn now, Nana. Break a fucking leg.” You leave her shoulders as her smile slowly starts to grow.
You watch her heading toward the stage, taking her guitar out of the cover, and taking her seat on the chair in front of the mic. “Hey,” she starts, “I am Nayeon… and I’m gonna sing Spring Day by BTS… I, uhh, hope you enjoy.”
She takes one last deep breath as you find her gaze on you. You return a reassuring smile, and Nayeon’s eyes fly back to her guitar. She strums her first chord, and the crowd’s welcoming applause rises.
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“I’m missing you, when I say that I miss you more, I’m missing you…” Nayeon’s fingers strum the strings delicately, and it enchants you how graceful and in control she is of her instrument. The wood and metal of her guitar work together under her guidance to produce a beautiful sound, one you feel deep inside you'd never have heard the beauty of if not here, not now.
The way her lips move to articulate her words is heavenly, like she has you under a benevolent spell to bring you a rare sort of peace. It captivates you how she carries herself; behind her tough outer shell is a scared and confused layer, which hides a soft and optimistic core and wants to chase a brighter, happier future by cherishing the present. You marvel at your luck, that you were permitted to see so much of her, and how openly she welcomed you in when all she knew was aloneness and to shut people out. 
“Snowflakes falling from the sky, are drifting further by and by…” Her heavenly voice draws you in, and it commands your attention like it speaks directly to your soul. The sound of Nayeon tugs on your heartstrings, pulling you closer to its source, and you let yourself get whisked away.
And to its source you look; find a girl with courage like you’d never seen. See Kwon Nayeon in a different light than the harsh monotones of the classroom fluorescents, but in a spotlight that she takes up with everything in her soul. It’s a different shade of her: a shade of Nayeon that only you could comprehend, a part of her that only you had the privilege to understand.
“I breathe you out there somewhere, like smoke in the air…” The space grows warmer, like a hearth welcoming you home. Your surroundings quiet down as Nayeon pulls them deeper and deeper with her subconscious command: rest, lay down your worries and fly for the moment towards your peace. You look around, and every fellow face in the crowd you see has their eyes fixed on Nayeon’s performance; they’d never know it, but it’s the debut of a person coming into a whole new life free of regret and cowardice. It’s Nayeon building herself up from the rubble of a past that she aims to forget. 
“Flowers blooming towards the sky, has winter finally passed by?” The noise of the world seems to die down, as if just you and Nayeon are the only two things in existence. The pace of her strumming slows, as do the lyrics that escape her mouth. Every note she produces is deliberate, gentle, comforting, and for once you feel like you’re able to imagine a brighter tomorrow like her. 
With her. 
The song draws to a close, and she looks all over the crowd as they start to clap. You can't help but join in. Nayeon just bows lightly, and you can feel how happy she is that everything went well in her song. As she steps off the stage, you leave your spot and head toward her.
With both of you only a couple of steps apart, you chuckle lightly, “Well it wasn't so bad was—” You were stopped, caught off guard by your friend, dashing to you with open arms and crashing into your chest, wrapping her arms around you, and pulling you into an embrace. 
No words are spoken; both of you just stand there, hugging each other, her face nuzzling your chest as you could faintly feel her heartbeat. You were quite surprised with Nayeon being so open with you, since it was just a short time ago you made your promise to help. 
“Thank you…” she says, now releasing you from her embrace, noticing how her eyes shed small tears, that you couldn't figure out if they are tears of sadness, or happiness.
“... Always here for you Nayeon.”
“Please… call me Nana,” she says. She takes her notebook and crosses off another line from her bucket list, and as she walks toward the exit, you make way for the people coming by to greet her for the performance.
You can't help but wonder… has something changed after that performance?
5. Shoplifting
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“Pick something already, it's not that hard,'' you remark impatiently while tapping your feet. Both of you are staring at the snack section of the local convenience store near your college, and Nana hovers her hand over the selection of snacks to look for the perfect one.
“Stop rushing me, I'm trying to choose which one will not get me caught,” she replies, still focused. The veteran petty thief in you groans, recalling your highschool days where nicking a cigarette or two (or ten) every once in a while gave you back huge chunks of your monthly budget. You miss the simplicity of it, and you once again find the restriction of being so careful more annoying than anything else. How come for Nayeon it is such a big struggle to steal one snack? You shoot the question up to whichever god might be listening, and you even half-expect an answer back. 
“You are thinking about it too much, the cashier is probably not gonna notice even if you stole something that made noise,” you add, tapping your foot rapidly, like you were some parent spending too long in the toy section.
“Well, please forgive me, oh thug master, it’s my fault that I never did that shit before!” Her whispers are loud enough for you to hear clearly, your less-than-welcoming attitude leading her to take a deep sigh.
“Fine, if you want to make it easier, do the buy one steal one method,” you explain. 
“The what?”
“Well to make it simpler than it already is, you dolt, you take two things, one you buy normally, and the other one you don't pay for,” you added as it seems to all make sense in Nayeon’s head. “Defeats the fucking purpose why we’re here, but really, the longer we spend here to leave with just four things, the more anyone will suspect us.”
Despite your best efforts to hurry her, they all seem to only make her take even longer. Her brow furrows deeper, as if trying to form lasers in her eyes to burn holes through the plastic wrappers. 
Your patience wears thinner by the moment, and you resolve to isolate before you lose it completely. “So if you’ll excuse me, I will get my shit and meet you outside,” you say, leaving her alone in the aisle.
As a promise to yourself not to shoplift anymore, you decide to buy just one pack of cigarettes. You light one of them as you lean against one of the store’s walls, watching the sun start to set. Find yourself sitting down, admiring the beauty of a day near its end, taking in the world around you.
Two cigarettes and fifteen minutes later, a small ding sounds from somewhere in the front of the store. It’s Nayeon, half-running out of the building, her face painted with worry as she finds and walks towards you.
“So, you did it?” A smile forms on Nayeon’s face as she takes her right hand to her jean’s pocket, revealing a small candy bar. She brandishes the candy around like a magic wand, as if trying to charm you into being proud of her. 
“Well… it's something,” you nod, while the two of you start towards her dormitory.
“Oh don’t say ‘it’s something’ when you didn't steal anything,” she exclaims. She holds the candy bar up against the setting sun, examining its entire wrapper. Now that you’re a considerable distance from the store, the worry on her face has been replaced completely by pride and excitement.
“Well I don’t shoplift anymore, the only reason I'm letting you do it is because you wanted the experience, which by the way,” you scoff, plucking the snack out of her hands, “all of that was for a chocolate bar.” This earns you a pretty strong punch on the shoulder, and the force loosens your grip on the snack enough for Nayeon to steal it back.
“Shut up,” she says, her cheeks seeming to grow a small shade of pink. She walks faster, leaving you no choice but to speed up as well.
6. Dye my Hair
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“Do you think blonde hair will suit me?” Nana asks, holding the color card next to her face. You come in for a closer look, but as you stare you stop and wonder why you even did so in the first place. 
“Yeah… uhh yeah, I think it can suit you well.” You weren't an expert in hair styles and colors, so honestly unless it was a color that was actually hideous, everything was fair game.
Nana smiles at your response and picks out a box of blonde hair dye to add to her basket. You’re a bit nervous that she wants to dye it at home with you, but any attempts you made to convince her to see an actual stylist have been dismissed. “It’s easy,” she said, “there’s instructions on the box.”
“So, how was it?” You’re half-convinced that the bleach is eating through your rubber gloves, but you soldier on.
“Was what?” Nayeon checks herself out in the mini-vanity mirror in front of her. You have to swat her hands away from her head with your elbows, but apart from that she stays on her best behavior.
“You know,” you shrug, “this whole thing. The stealing, the swimming, the dyeing your hair.” You try to keep the bleach from dripping onto your arms, mostly aiming for the scattered sheets of newspaper the two of you prepared on the floor, but there’s only so much you can do. You just resolve to wash off any drops as quickly as possible. 
You get the feeling that she hoped you wouldn’t notice, but you did. The smile on her face dimmed the slightest it could before she could fix it. “It was… great! Stuff I’ll remember for the rest of my life, for sure.” 
Like some form of cosmic karma, she spots your involuntary grin in the mirror. “Good. That’s good.”
The color drains from her hair bit by bit as you apply the bleach carefully. You’re not sure how quickly you have to finish, but Nana seems not to mind. You gently stroke and rub the product through her hair, taking special care not to come into contact with her scalp too often, all the while she turns her head from side to side to admire the look she’s going to have soon. 
“You know…” she says suddenly, avoiding your eyes in the mirror, “this was really fun. I’m so happy I got to do all that stuff on my list.” Her smile changes: what was once a cheerful and optimistic smile just a few moments ago is now a wizened and melancholic one. “I mean it. Thank you for helping me.” 
She makes eye contact with you again in the mirror, and she flashes that smile to you once more. Her hair grows lighter with each passing second, and as her back relaxes and straightens, it seems that the weight of the world leaves her shoulders as well. She breathes more easily now, and despite the fumes the box says you should do your best not to inhale, you breathe easier too.
~-~-~-~ 
You’re sat back again on her sofa, and Nana tries her best not to mess with her hair that’s still soaking. She looks kind of silly, what with her old towel around her shoulders faded to near oblivion, her hair in sections making her look like a half-done scarecrow, her hands going up halfway to her head only to be forced back down by the other. 
And yet, you admire another shade of Nayeon. This time, it’s a girl who’s scared of the future, of changes she might regret later on. It’s something deep in her character, even central maybe, to be afraid of things she can’t take back. Even then, she takes her leaps and bounds to try and outrun her past, and finally, you see the razor edge that keeps everything in balance: Nayeon’s fear which dictates her present, and Nana’s strength which leads her to her future. 
“Hey,” you say abruptly, surprising even yourself, “you good?” 
“I think so. My head’s itchy. Is that supposed to happen? Should we wash it off?”
“No, jackass, it’ll look even worse if you quit halfway.” 
Your words set in and she realizes you’re right. Worry seeps into her face and you notice tears start to well up in her eyes.
“Look, this might not be comfy right now, but I promise it’ll be worth it later on.”
“Really? You promise it’ll look good?” She looks over to you with pleading, shiny eyes, and it almost hurts to tell her no.
“I said I promise it’ll be worth it. Not that it’ll look good.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?!”
You chuckle at the sudden rise in her voice. After all this time, she’s still Nayeon, still Nana. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.
“It means… if you stick with it, there’s no way you’ll regret what we just did.”
7. You know…
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The end of your senior year of college rolls around, and the graduation ceremony is still fresh in everyone’s minds. Photos of friends together and square caps thrown into the air decorate your social media feeds for a good few days, and you can’t deny the whole thing was something you wouldn’t forget for the rest of your life.
And finally, Nana’s bucket list has been finished. To think that all of it was done in the span of a college year is quite impressive to say the least, as before you started she was lost in her own goals and left sitting for a good three years. Now, looking at your diploma, it was not only a sign of your successful studies at college, for you it was also the sign of helping your dear friend get to where she wanted to be. 
Speaking of the devil, now sending you a message
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On the way, you see various people from her dorm building heaving away bags and suitcases, undoubtedly taking advantage of the nice weather to move out. You see people hugging each other, taking selfies, exchanging numbers, and all the while you think of each of them with their own stories to tell when they get home, but none so interesting as the one you and Nana built together. 
The walk up the stairs was more of the same, people saying goodbye, and you can’t help but feel a bit of nostalgia. It was by no means a short year, but for everything you did, the feeling of wanting just a bit more time never seems to leave you. You recall the first time you saw her, that quiet girl in the front of the auditorium with four seats of clearance around her, and how you slowly watched her grow into the fine and confident woman she is now. Part of you is unbelievably proud of what she’s achieved, but another part of you knows it’s all her doing and you were only along for the ride. 
You reach Nana’s room just as her roommate was leaving, and you exchange pleasantries with her before she goes off. “Hey, just so you know, Nayeon’s a really nice girl,” she says in whispers to you, “I’m glad she found you before she left.” She pats you on the back before going off to the stairs herself. Something deep inside you glows in agreement, and you think to yourself how lucky you were to be able to meet and spend time with a person like her.
“Hey, come in!” Nana pushes you into her now half-empty room. “Yuri just left, so we have the place all to ourselves!” You take a seat on her easy chair while she plops herself down onto her bed. The half that still has stuff in it is simple and unassuming, and the realization dawns on you that this is the first time you’ve been in Nana’s room. Despite this, the space is warm and cozy, like it was filled with a good sort of energy for a long time. 
“Cheers” you both say at the same time, each with a can of beer that you both drink fairly quickly. You recall the first time of her drinking with you, how easily she felt her stomach hurting but this time she quickly shrugs off the bitter taste.
“You know,” Nana says, her eyes shining and her smile flashing itself directly at you, “I am really happy that you helped me with the bucket list, I couldn't do it without you.”
You simply laugh casually and say “Come on Nana, all you needed was confidence.”
“And who do you think gave me that confidence? I really mean it…thank you,” she says, and you can't help but smile at her back.
“Let me get some snacks, okay? Don’t move a muscle.” As she stands and heads toward the kitchen, you go to check up your phone to see what the time is. However, just as you are about to go into your Instagram, you notice something on the table: a little black notebook that’s only all too familiar. 
When you think about it, She has never shown you the actual list besides that one time when you two first talked. “A peek won't hurt right?” you say, the alcohol definitely makes the choice for you. Your sober self would never invade someone's privacy, especially not some as close as Nana’s, but regardless, you open it and…
You flip through the pages, and the notebook reveals so much more. The few pages you’ve been shown were just decorated pages, and each mission was a chapter, filled with dozens of writings, pictures, scribbles, each for its own topic. You find yourself smiling, muttering quietly to yourself: “You really worked hard on it… didn't you?” 
Your attention is snatched to Nana across the room, looking at you with cheeks fully red. You can't help but curse quietly, and you try to come up with something of an apology. However before you can finish your first word she says…
“Hey, come on, put that down!” Nana rushes toward you, nearly tossing the snacks off to some random part of the room, and snatches away the little black notebook from your hands. She hugs it close to her chest as she turns away, and she looks over her shoulder to peek if you might still be thinking about snatching the notebook back.
Instead, you raise your hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. Sorry. But what's there to hide? Aren't we done?” You take another sip of your drink before picking up one of the snacks. You open the bag of chips and place it on the table for the both of you. 
“Well… I had one other thing. I gave up on it a long time ago, just never ripped out the page.” Nana turns back toward you and fiddles with a leaf of the notebook. Her steps are careful when she gets nearer to you, as if cautious to scare you away. 
“What?!” You bolt to your feet in surprise, your drunkenness taking a backseat at the sudden exposition. “Shit, we gotta go now! What is it?”
“Calm down,” Nana mutters, her feet rubbing against the carpet, “it isn't something we can do anywhere else anyway. Or, I mean, it’s done? I don’t know…”
Your nerves are still flaring, but you get the feeling that whatever it is, there's nowhere else but where you are now that Nana could do the last bucket list thing. Your gaze steadies on her, and she looks like she wouldn't budge for the world. Her eyes never leave the floor, her hands stay guarded on the notebook, and for some reason, she's also able to keep you just where you are. 
“So… what is it, then?” 
“Promise me you won't get mad?”
“... Promise.”
Once she hears you say it, her eyes shut tight. As if gathering courage, she takes a deep breath before taking deliberate steps to where you're standing. You never see it coming, but the next thing you know, Nana's soft lips are on yours, her delicate fingers keep you steady in place, and her vanilla scent fills your nose and overwhelms your senses that you can't think of anything at all but her.
It takes only half a second, but you melt into the kiss yourself. Your eyes flutter closed and start to forget the world around you in favor of the girl who stayed by your side. The space between the two of you grows smaller, your hands make their way to her waist, and you let your selfishness take over and keep her for yourself as well. 
The kiss breaks just as you hold her, and both your eyes shoot open to find hers just as wide as yours. 
“I-I, umm… I’m sorry, it was too sudden, and uhh…” It wasn't too hard to see how much she was stuttering, and if you weren't so surprised yourself you would've also joined her like the blushing mess she is right now.
The alcohol was starting to hit you again, and your better judgment slowly left you as you took her lips once more. You have no time to be surprised at how willing she is, and you resolve to just enjoy the kiss with her. You lead her to the edge of the bed and sit her down; and the first chance she gets, she lies back onto the mattress and pulls you with her. 
“If you really wanna know…” She flips to the last page of the notebook and shows you. It’s a simple picture, just two stick figures in a heart, holding hands. You don’t recognize the poster, but the quote is unmistakable: “You should be kissed, and often, by someone who knows how.”
“I’m glad we got to spend all this time together, and I know I keep thanking you, but I really am so happy…” Nana pulls you back in, and with your own sweet defiance, you trace kisses across her cheek and onto her neck. The whimpers that escape her are adorable, but at the same time they also confirm thoughts you’ve only ever tried to suppress: she likes you too. 
You go lower and lower, tracing kisses from her neck to nibbling her collarbone, and you settle right before you reach her chest. Her breath hitches when she figures out what you want to do, but ultimately her fingers rake comfortingly through your hair.
“So tonight… let me show you… let me thank you… properly.” Her eyes may look pure when she says those words, but with how you are inches away from her lips, with how you have been kissing her now, it's anything but.
She slowly pulls off her jacket, her eyes never leaving you. The fabric slides off of her arms, revealing the smooth skin of her slender arms. The next to go is her tank top; her fingers grip the hem lightly, tugging slowly upwards, showing you her toned tummy and milky skin. The hem rises higher and higher, until she stops right under her chest. 
“Are you sure?” Your question is breathless, not in the slightest bit annoyed, but your tone full of concern reaches her. “You don’t have to do this for me.”
“I know,” she says, the sound of her voice betraying a dry throat, “I love you.” She pulls the rest of her top off, and her boobs bounce freely in front of you. Nana takes your hands and places them on each, and asks you playfully, “Come on, you think I never caught you staring?”
She pulls you back in for a kiss, a proper one this time, the kind that quenches your thirst for her. She tries her best to wrap her tongue around yours, all the while you take your fill of her soft tits. Pinch and tweak her nipples, feel them stiffen as her tiny whimpers grow into careless moans. You never let up, delivering constant pleasure to her chest, and your surprise when you feel her palming your growing bulge is quickly replaced with anticipation. 
Her hand slips under your waistband and her moan fills your mouth when she feels how hot and hard your cock is for her. She wraps her fingers around your shaft and gives long, slow strokes, nothing that would make you cum on the spot, but just about enough to make you leak precum onto her palm. She relishes the feeling of your arousal on her skin, and as she picks up her pace, seemingly trying to entice you to do more, you’re left with no choice but to give her exactly what she wants. 
You work on unzipping your jeans and taking them off, and with Nana’s help, it feels like the second easiest job in the world. They fall to your ankles and you kick them away, and all of a sudden your cock rests on the skin of her luscious thigh. The heat and the precum that leaks onto her flesh surprises her, but her senses come back to her and she asks for a time out. 
“Gimme a sec, I have to breathe,” she gasps unsteadily. You get off her, wondering what you might have done wrong. Her breathing is ragged and she seems to not be able to focus on much else, but a reassuring look in her eyes lets you know she’s alright. 
“I just– I needed to see it.” Her gaze falls on your cock, and once she reaches and wraps her fingers around your shaft again, it throbs in her hand. A groan of pleasure escapes you, and she figures out that she’s doing something right. Her pumps start slow, gradually building up speed, all the while she brings her face closer and closer, and you don’t even notice it, but finally her lips meet the tip of your dick. Nana rubs your precum all over her lips like lipstick, and she takes your head in her mouth. 
Small groans come from your mouth feeling her soft lips, you enjoy much more than you thought, especially knowing how inexperienced you thought she was. Your hands meanwhile grab a part of hair, pulling it lightly, causing Nana to moan into your cock.
“Don't get mad if I do this wrong–” she says, her eyes fraught with worry. Despite this, she makes careful moves to give you the best possible experience. She seals her lips around your head, and she gives slow but deep sucks as she tries her hardest. 
“You’re– nngh– doing great,” you moan, the pleasure overtaking you. The eye contact you two share is enchanting; she’s undoubtedly a very pretty girl, and despite the amateur blowjob, she more than makes up for it with her enthusiasm. Her head bobs slightly, trying to take more of your length in, but her worry of choking keeps her from giving any more. 
On the other hand, she has no idea of the effect she has on you, and the sight of the gorgeous woman’s plump lips on your cock coupled with her eager attempts at making you feel good nearly sends you over the edge early. In an effort to stave off your orgasm for even just a little while longer, you regrettably pull her off of you. 
“What– what’s wrong? Wasn’t it good?” Again her words are coated with worry of disappointing you, but the way you look tenderly to her reassures her. 
“You are perfect, Nana,” you whisper into her ear. You lay her back onto the bed gently, and you let show your eagerness to please her too. You venture down until you’re level with her crotch, and you work slowly to peel off her thin shorts. As they leave her legs, you’re presented with a pastel blue pair of panties, though you can’t help but notice the growing wet spot right in the center and the scent of her arousal seeping through. It must be uncomfy, you think, and you strip it off of her as well. 
The garment leaves her and you look to Nana for approval: her finger between her teeth and her face red as a tomato, she looks at you with a loving gaze. Only then do you realize that Nana is now fully naked, everything bare for you and you alone, and the way her thighs rub together needily sends the message you’ve been dying to get. 
Part her legs, meeting little resistance as you do. Travel up from her knees to her thighs, planting kisses and light nibbles on the soft flesh of her legs. Hearing how she whimpers beneath your lips: “That feels really good… I want more…” 
Your lips finally meet her pussy, and the initial contact draws out a sultry moan from her. Each swipe of your tongue on her cunt causes more and more of her love juices to leak out, sending waves of ecstasy up her spine. She tries locking your head in place as she runs her fingers through your hair, all the while she grinds her crotch on your face as she chases her pleasure. 
“Yes, yes, yes! Fuck, you feel so good! I love you~!” Nana humps your face more and more roughly, and you take it as a sign that she’s close. Good thing as well, as you’re running out of air, but on the other hand you feel as though this wouldn't be the worst way to go. You run your tongue over her soaked pussy, taking slow, deep licks. 
She’s inching closer to her orgasm, her hips are bucking onto your mouth, your tongue meets her clit, she squeezes your head between her thighs, your lips seal around her swollen nub, she grabs your hair and pulls hard, and with a scream ripping through her throat, Nana squirts her love juices straight into your waiting mouth as you drink her essence up. Her scream turns into a drawn-out moan as she continues to grind on your face, making sure to pleasure herself enough to give you everything you’ve been working so hard for, and you lap every single drop of it up like it was the sweetest thing you’ve ever tasted. 
She releases her grip on your hair and head, and as she relaxes onto the bed her arms fall to the sides and her legs spread open. She lazily brings a hand to her pussy and rubs it, showing you just how good you made her feel, and she smiles up at you. 
“That was fucking amazing.” It couldn’t have sounded any sweeter, and the fact that it came from Nana, lying on her bed wearing nothing but a smile that you gave her, fills you with a sort of pride that you doubt you’d ever get again anywhere else in your life. But as she starts to get up, and she places her lips on yours, you feel another weight lifted off your chest. It’s another shade of her, one that shows you how she is when she’s content. It’s her way of telling you that among the hundreds of firsts she’s had in her life, she’s grateful that you were this one too. And as you kiss back, your hands finding their way to her hips, you connect with her again on a level that you never put into words before. “I love you too, Nana.”
Upon hearing, her kiss deepens and her tongue works harder to play with yours. She leans on you more, until finally you let yourself fall backwards, and Nana is right there, straddling you, with an innocent yet horny look in her eyes again.
“Your turn. Relax, okay?” She caresses your cheek, and suddenly you’re made conscious of how bad you’re probably blushing right now. Despite this, her smile never leaves her face as she continues to reassure you. She giggles at whatever expression it is that you’re showing her, and she gets to work. 
Nana reaches to her bedside table and opens a drawer, and from it she produces a peculiar box. “Remember when I ‘stole’ that candy bar?” She tears off the sticker on the edge of the box to open it, pulls out a little plastic square pouch, and tears it open with her teeth. “I… bought… the candy bar. This was what I stole.” She tugs on the contents of the pouch, and reveals a condom. 
“What the–” you start, but you soon stop in favor of moans caused by Nana’s handjob. “Don’t ever belittle me like that again, okay?” Her smile is again just as sweet and innocent as the first time you saw it, but now is completely different. It never leaves her face as she pulls the rubber over your cock, but not before giving it a few more cursory licks.
“Ready?” she asks, and you nod furiously. Finally, she aims the tip of your cock at her entrance and slowly sinks down onto you. “Oh, fuck, it’s so big,” she gasps. She takes her time taking in your length, feeling every vein against her pussy walls as you enter her tight pussy. She sucks air in through her teeth, her eyes shut tight, her fingernails leaving imprints on your chest as more and more of you slides into her unbelievably tight cunt. As she does, you feel her wet velvet walls rub your cock inside her, her slick spreading all over you and coating you with a warm you can’t describe. After what seemed like an eternity of bliss, she finally hilts, having taken everything inside her, and she sits on your crotch without moving, still trying to get used to the feeling of her pussy being so full. 
“You good?” you ask, genuinely concerned if she’s okay or not. Place a hand on her waist, pat to comfort her. Her eyes open slowly, almost releasing a tear, and panic rises in your chest. 
“Shit, shit, I’m sorry, do you need to get off? I–” you start, but she shuts you up with another kiss. It’s slow and gentle as it starts, just simple pecks, as she reassures you once again that she’s alright. Once she pulls away, she flashes you another smile, and you swear she gets more and more beautiful with each and every one. 
“I’m okay. Are you okay?” She traces circles on your cheek and neck, and all you could do is nod. She comes back in for another kiss, and this time it’s much deeper. She opens her mouth to moan, and you jump at the opportunity to swipe at her tongue too. She loves it, and once she’s comfy enough, she starts to hump against you as well.
“It’s really really good. Do you feel good?” Her question snaps you out of your daze, but you only nod as you fight off cumming too early. Not long after that, you note she’s had her fill as she pulls away from you. Her posture straightens and she sits on you properly again, this time determined to return the favor and blow your mind. She takes in a deep breath, braces herself, and lifts herself up carefully. Your breath hitches, watching her naked figure on top of you, and you admire the way her sweat collects in drops before they slide down between her breasts. She notices you staring again, and she brings your hands up to her chest, moaning at the first moment of contact. Your instincts overtake you; you push yourself off the bed to her boobs and start to suck. Your lips seal around her nipples and she runs her fingers through your hair as she tries to push you deeper into her delicious breast. 
“Shit, don’t stop,” Nana pleads, and you continue kneading the flesh of her boobs more, sucking when and where you can. At that moment, she forces herself back down onto your dick, taking in everything again all at once. Her walls part suddenly, and once she settles her warm pussy walls squeeze your cock as tight as she can. She begins bouncing, her moans never stopping, and you find a rhythm: each time Nana brings herself down, you thrust up to meet her halfway. The first time you do, you reach a depth to her that neither of you thought was possible, and the heat from her sex with her slick drive the pair of you insane with pleasure. 
She keeps bouncing on your cock as her lewd moans gradually grow louder and louder with each of your thrusts into her needy core. Her eyes roll to the back of her head, her pussy tightens again, and just as you deliver a perfectly-timed bite to her nipple, another scream rakes out of her throat as her second orgasm overtakes her. Her pussy convulses as her hips buck again and again on your cock, her thighs and tits jiggle seductively, and her tightness reaches new heights as if she wants to keep your cock inside her forever. Despite this, you never stop thrusting her, never stop making love to her, and you cover her chest in kisses while you lick up all her sweat. 
You never give her a chance to catch her breath, and soon enough, an unknowable number of seconds or minutes past, you feel your own orgasm coming. You take one last look at her godly figure and divine visuals, and you finally succumb.
Hold her close, hold her tight. She’s made it clear that she doesn’t want you getting away, so you only return the desire. Keep thrusting into her, forget about how she’s losing her mind. She’s gone, lost in her own pleasure, and there’s no point in bringing her back yourself. Instead, follow her. Send yourself over the edge and join her in her ecstasy.
You momentarily lose your flow of consciousness as flashes of white fill your eyes, but you’re snapped back to reality with Nana pulling at your hair. Only then do you realize; you’re actually cumming inside her. With each spurt, you thrust into her as your cock twitches against her slick walls. The cumulative heat from your cum sends just the right signals to Nana’s body, and it sends back the equivalent of screams of desperation at the illusion of breeding. Your pumps are harsh and careless – thank the stars you’re wearing a condom – but Nana is too far lost to care past the unholy pleasure you deliver to her. 
“Fuck, fuck! Aaaahhh!!!!” You feel her tighter, as if clamping down on your cock, her cunt pulsating and the connection between the two of you growing wetter, slicker. Despite this, you never let up, hell-bent on giving her everything you have. One spurt turns into two, then four, then six. It didn’t matter, none of it did. It could have been the end of the world and you wouldn’t have minded. All that was important was the girl sitting on your lap, losing her mind.
As both of your orgasms die down, the pair of you fall to the mattress. You stare at each other, wide-eyed and out of breath, and all you can do is smile and giggle at each other. As each of you catch your breath, the world quiets down, and all that’s left in existence is just you and Nana. 
“Wow,” she sighs, “nice.” Her smile grows wide again, and her hand once more finds your cheek to caress.
“Yeah, nice.” You laugh back at her, the adrenaline fading quickly. “Does that check the thing off your list?”
“Oh, yeah!” Nana jolts up and off the bed, or at least attempts to. Instead, she falls back next to you, and only then do you realize the fatigue rendering your bodies useless. 
“So… we good?” There’s nowhere else to look but right to her. Nana’s beautiful, round, just a bit teary eyes gaze back at you with adoration and love, something you never thought you’d have for yourself in this magnitude. And yet, here you are, and here she is, as if nothing else mattered. 
“Shit. That was crazy. Anyway, yeah. Thanks.” With her last ounce of strength, she comes in for one more kiss. She collapses in your arms, cuddled right up to your chest, and you can imagine she could hear how loud your heart was thumping, just like hers. 
Catch her snoring an adorable snore, wrap her in an embrace that would protect her from the worst the world could throw at her. A small thought in your head says you want to keep her safe forever like this, but you know better: she’s a strong woman who can take care of herself. Think back to how lucky you are, and how you walked this journey with her. Recall how she was just a fearful nobody when you first met, remember how you watched her grow into the amazing person she is now. 
Your eyelids grow heavy, and you realize your waking seconds left are numbered. Right before you drift off to sleep yourself, you hear her, in the tiniest voice ever, mumbling her confession: “Stay with me.”
“Go to sleep, Nana.” You smile and turn your head toward hers, arms wrapped around her waist. 
“Not without a promise.” Her own eyes are half-lidded, and you can tell she’s fighting back her drowsiness as hard as she can. She tries blinking the sleep away, but it only works marginally.
You could say anything to her at all right now, anything in the world, but there’s really only two things that need to be put into words. Your mind rushes at a snail’s pace, and you reach for faraway ideas when the right one is just in front of you. In your mind only one question appears: “So is this like…a one time thing?” 
In response Nana just leans in and kisses your cheek, then giggles. “Would me saying ‘I love you’ outside of sex prove it?” she asks playfully, her tone betraying her desire for rest.
“Touché.” One hand goes to her soft blonde hair, brushing it to the side. “But in my defence, suddenly kissing me and then getting me naked was not the first thing I expected when you said there was ‘one last thing’ in your bucket list,” you state matter-of-factly.
You share a bout of tired laughter for a moment, and then you both look at each other with pure eyes, as if you two compete to see who can make the other blush first. Decidedly, Nana loses while she confesses. “I used to think that college was supposed to be all rose-colored, that it was to be the peak of my life. But spending it with you, I learned that it doesn’t have to be all grand milestones to live through.” The air in the room swirls differently, replacing stale breaths with new ones from the open window. 
“That time you cheered me on during the open mic, how you looked at me… It made me realise that after everything’s said and done, I wanted peace. And I can feel peace with you, without all the guilt of past mistakes, nor ghosts of regret that would’ve haunted me for the rest of my life,” she says, now leaning toward your ear muttering, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you whisper back, smiling from ear to ear. Eventually you both released the hug. Look around her room for your clothes, which was surprisingly hard for how your sex wasn't too feral, and in turns take showers to clean yourselves up.
As you get out of the shower, fully cleaned and with some good-enough-for-sleep clothes, you find Nana on her bed fully knocked out. You simply laugh and join her, and her instinct leads her to wrap her arms around your waist while her head leans into your chest.
“Goodnight, Nana,” you whisper with finality, as if ending the night on a perfect note. Peck her forehead and close your own eyes, and fall into slumber just as deep as hers.
Bucket List Completed
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“Argh, I’m so excited!” She grips you by your collar and shakes you as she screams, jolting away any sleep you wished to get. 
Two months have come and gone, and while you know it hasn’t been long, things have changed so much. Despite you trying to get just a bit more sleep in the backseat of the taxi, Nana right next to you can’t stop bouncing in hers as the sights outside the window pass her by.
“Okay, okay. Just get all this energy out before we get on the plane, please?”
She returns her attention to the window just as the taxi slows to a halt. Your new girlfriend practically throws open the door and leaps out, heading straight for the trunk to retrieve your luggage. 
“Hurry up! We might miss our flight!” She struggles lifting her comically large suitcase before you hear it hits the concrete pavement followed by its handle extending with its clack-clack-clack. 
“Hawaii isn’t going anywhere, Nana, please,” you mutter as you lazily exit the cab. You hand the driver your fare, and he reaches out to accept. As he does, he gives you a knowing smirk and tips his hat to you, as if saying “good luck.”
Turning around, you find Nana with all of your luggage too, eagerly awaiting your arm for her to cling to before you make your way inside. The hustle and bustle of Incheon International Airport fills her with a deep sense of excitement, and honestly, who could blame her? Your girlfriend is in the midst of all these other people — travelers, tourists, adventurers — and she fits right in. It’s the most natural thing for her now, to find herself in new situations that broaden her horizons and make her feel alive. 
She yanks you to her side in line for the desk, holding her brand-new polaroid camera at a high angle. “Cheese!” she screams, not far enough from your ear, but with how happy she is, you can’t help but smile her smile too. “Our first overseas trip! This is the first time I’m leaving Seoul, let alone Korea!” 
“Okay, Nana, calm down,” you chuckle, but you know she won’t. Divert her attention instead, put her energy to good use. “Do you have your passport? Carry on? Pink notebook?”
Though you both are sure she hasn’t missed anything, Nana rummages through her bag again anyway. “Check, check, and check! How could I forget?” She takes each item to show to you, and she flips through the pink notebook once it’s in her hand.
One thing about Nana, she never lets the moment escape her anymore. Once she sets out to do something, she’ll do everything in her power to accomplish that goal. This is no different, and you love her so much for it.
After looking through the notebook, she claps it shut. She flashes you the drawing of a gray bucket on its front cover before it disappears back into her carry on, and you both are reminded that a part of who you are as a couple is just that: a notebook that predicts the future by rooting itself in the present. Sadly, a weeklong trip won’t be enough for everything on her list this time, but who’s to say you’re not coming back eventually? 
And at the end of the trip, you have it ready, the best gift you could give her: a little green notebook, every left-side page filled with things you want to do, and the corresponding right side page blank, all for her. And on the very last leaf, where the cardboard of the back cover accompanies it, is a drawing of a ring, with the words: “I’ll be taking my time, spending my life, falling deeper in love with you.”
“Come on, hurry!” She yanks again, snapping you out of your wistful thoughts. “We’re gonna miss the plane!” Nana pulls you to the gate just as the intercom announces your flight has begun boarding. “Alright, alright! Easy,” you chuckle again, and you can’t believe this is the same girl behind the gym crying her eyes out alone just last year. Funny how people change like that, but at the same time, it’s impossible to think that Nana would ever stay the same.
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Thank you all for watching, it has been a long time working on it and we are really happy it is finally out, hope yall had a good read with this one,
i will see you all next time leafies~
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running-with-kn1ves · 1 month
Note
Need you to write more WLW 😫😫😫😫
It’s the only thing keeping me sane!!!!!
A/N: I wrote this based on a random ass scene I saw in The Boys and now...here lies this creation. (Female fitness trainer is nearing completion)
CW: blackmail, manipulation, toxic relationship type beat, controlling behavior, threats, cigarettes
Synopsis: you attempt to break up with your girlfriend-- she's too much. But she was going to keep you, one way or another.
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You knew the rough crowd around town was... intense. But this chick was on another level. Kali liked to scare you; with how little you knew about her friends, leering on their motorcycles as she watched from behind a cigarette, your mind swam with scenarios of being abandoned on bloody asphalt behind a dumpster.
The music she blares in her shitty, one-eyed car and the smoke trail she left in bathrooms-- she liked being revered as nothing but trouble. You were doing your best to stay away from any kind of danger, focused on fixing the pieces of your tarnished education as your grades had not been kind to you. But Kali got to you first, ripping away any thoughts of work and reparations to your tuition debt.
So, despite the foggy kisses, lipstick stains on your jaw, and unexpected clinginess she showed to the idea of moving you in with her, you're making an attempt to break up with her.
"You... want to ditch me?"
"What? No! I'm just, I'm extremely worried about this next semester." You put a hand on her square-cut, polished fingers. "If I fail even one class again, my scholarships will drop me. I'm already on probation with the university."
You hope she can see how worried you are in your eyes, squeezing her hand to ease the news. She was going rigid, stiff as a tree with the strength of a waiting titan.
"School, huh."
Kali watched you beneath wispy bangs, looking straight through you. As if you weren't there, heart-pounding and palm-sweating in front of her.
You were glad she balled her hands in fists before you grabbed them, having one too many instances of your fingers crushed in her grip.
"B-but... we can still see each other.. maybe, sometimes on the weekends. I just can't afford any distractions, I've already spent a fortune getting to where I am."
"Is this because I want you to move in with me?" She blurted, straight faced and tight lipped.
Dark, midnight eyes bore into you for the truth.
Her ears perked at the sound of your jaggy sigh, knowing this would come up. "... No, but I have to say that it is still pretty early in, well, "us", to be considering... that."
"Really?" She asked earnestly, cold fingers finding their way around your forearm. "Because I still feel pretty confident about the idea, baby."
You hated how she could call you "baby" so easily, how every "sweetheart" was patronizing or forceful, or could be the most saccharine thing you heard when you first woke up.
her boot tips pressed against the side of your shoes, trapping you in like a snake wrapped around a rat. One hand held yours in a death grip, the other raking shivery nails against your knee from under the coffee table.
"I've got a perfect place for your stuff, work's only ten minutes away; why would there be any little reason to stay at your dusty old apartment?"
"I, I don't think you're hearing me--"
"No, no baby, I think you forgot who's choice this was to make." Your skin was a deep color under her fingers, her strength far outmatched as your clammy, fragile hand was brought to her cheek. She tutted under her breath, tsk'ing in condescention. "What would you do without me? How are you going to survive alone, no car to get to your classes, or the grocery store, unprotected around your peers... I can't imagine it, especially since your landlord never got his money to re-lease your apartment next month..."
From under the table her swift fingers brought a bulging envelope to the table, previously stuffed in your landlord's mailbox.
It wasn't even opened, the cash and tenant forms sealed without a mark.
Your jaw went slack, coffee cup cold in your hands.
"How did you--"
"Try it again, and I'll find it. You'll keep losing money, keep draining chances to come to me lovingly."
Kali sweetly tiptoed her black nails up to your shirt collar, sending shivers down your neck with each gentle, uncharacteristically slow touch.
Without warning, the woman snatched your shirt in her fist and jerked you forward, pulling you tightly against the coffee table. The seething anger she bore hardly made a sound, leaving the fellow cafe attendants nearby unbothered.
Your wince left her apathetic, bear-like eyes relishing in how unnerved and frantic you were becoming.
"I so rarely give out second chances. You, my love, are very lucky to be the exception. Don't make me regret it," your girlfriend was only inches apart, painted lips plump and teasing only breaths away. "I don't like to play dirty, but I will if you run from me. Is that clear, baby?"
You swallowed thickly, letting your gaze run away from hers as she bore into you with intense malice.
"Say yes," She whispered, on edge of twisting your wrist. "So I don't have to show everyone in here who you belong to."
Your cheeks lit up, terrified of the baristas and groups of students who'd look your way if she carried out that threat. Kali was unpredictable, something you found so endearing when you first met. She was always moving, doing something you couldn't expect. Now, it was scaring you.
You nod your head, regretting the idea of trying to break up with her in public. She wasn't afraid to make a scene, unlike you.
"Of course, Kals. There won't... be any need for that."
You hoped the sweetly familiar nickname with a hint of an anxious smile would make you sound casual, as if you weren't sweating behind your jacket and avoiding her blinkless stare like the plague.
"That's right." She whispered, letting go of your collar to pull at your jaw, this time only with the intent of dragging you closer. She was always so rough with her grip, capable or causing pain with its force, or merely leaving you breathless.
The punk's hand from beneath the table took mercy on your thigh with its painful rakes, moving instead to your cheek. Cold rings nicked your skin, her knuckles brushing against your face in a gentle, longing caress. You were hunched over the table now, uncomfortably risen as she sat like a queen in her cushioned chair, your face in her hands and your breath stolen by her.
Her pierced tongue came to graze the inside of your mouth, all-consuming and grinning through her teeth.
She tasted of stale cigarettes and mint gum, her current oral fixation besides the longterm smoking vice she's had since middle school.
You reluctantly kissed back, feeling wrongness in your gut. This isn't how it was supposed to go, you weren't supposed to be sharing hot breaths or hearing her satisfactory groans for capturing you once again. You were supposed to be leaving teary eyed and frightened of what she'd do now that you were no longer on her good side. But this, was far worse. You were walking on ice that was already breaking, the freezing water below beginning to flood the only surface of land you had left.
Kali pulled away, not without a few last kisses to the corner of your mouth and cheek, leaving wet lipstick stains. Your lips were probably about as red as hers were now. Dark lashes heightened by her thick mascara clouded your view, your girlfriend looking up at you through them with a gentle hardness.
She wasn't so scary when you were falling to her whims, like putty in her fingers and teeth.
"Kal..." you mumble, upsettingly conflicted between your failure to carry out what you came for, and your fear of what her threats would do. Her history of breaking into your bedroom window and making herself at home wherever she tracked you left you without a doubt of her potential. It made you all the more anxious of what she would be like if you didn't follow through with what she wanted.
"My friend is out of town for the weekend, said I could use his condo by the beach... a getaway, just for us baby." Her cold thumb smoothed over your bruised lips, an inkling of a smile coming to curl her mouth upward. "You'll be there, tonight. Dressed in that cute little number you wore on our first date. Is that right?"
It wasn't a question, it was a challenge. 'Are you going to let go of this once in a lifetime second chance I'm giving you? ' is what she was asking.
You didn't want to say yes. You didn't want to show up, to spend another agonizing second with her knowing that your failing at everything you hold dear. But her hold on your face brings you to fall back into your comfort zone.
"Yeah, Kals. I'll... I'll be there. But--"
She laid a firm hand on your shoulder,  leaning against your ear with wrathful delight.
"Promise you won't bail on me, sweetheart. I don't wanna come looking for you," She let go of your sweet lips to play with a strand of your hair, curling it around her finger. "I really don't enjoy forcing you to obey.."
That was such a lie. She loved it, relished in your mild disobedience at times. But this was a different level of rebellion, one she detested.
You swallowed your protest, frustration bubbling in your stomach in distress and fear.
"I promise, Kal."
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moodymisty · 12 days
Text
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Author's note: Inspired by this anon along with the amazing snippet @kit-williams wrote for it
Relationships: Vulkan/Fem!Reader
Warnings: NSFW, Pred/Prey, Rough sex, Blood
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You fall again, and the jagged rocks bite at your knees and palms. Little speckles of blood dot across your palms as you look at him, before quickly getting up and trying to run again.
A stupid mistake- now he'll be able to smell exactly where you are. He already can, you know the scent of your sweat lingers in the air like smoke, but fresh blood is like a beacon you can't get away from fast enough.
You lost him for a short while, slipping through a tunnel that wasn't large enough for him to get through. Your smaller stature remains your single advantage you have against him.
But the tunnels echo sound incredibly well, and you can sometimes hear his footsteps ringing through the system of caves. He can hear yours as well, tracking you down and gaining on you.
"Did you cut yourself? I can smell the blood,"
Entering one of the wider, huge main tunnels you look around quickly for a little rat hole to take next, trying to avoid standing like prey in the middle of such a huge area. You think you see a few options, but the one farthest down seems the smallest, and your best bet.
Rushing towards it you're almost there when you suddenly hear the sound of his footsteps thundering through the system of caves; Rocks crumbling underneath his feet.
"There you are,"
He appears at the far end of the tunnel blocking off your exit, and you nearly fall attempting to scramble backwards.
You know he's just playing, that this is just a fun game you had propositioned, but when he starts running towards you every primal, instinctual animal part of your brain tells you he's a predator- to run- you let out a bloodcurdling scream that rips through your throat and puts spittle on your lips.
Quickly you scramble towards the closest tunnel that you think can't fit him, but only by a few feet. Dug by the astartes you assume.
Vulkan however laughs at your screams, like a wolf driven by the squeaks of an limping, injured rabbit.
He's being slow on purpose, letting you run into your safe tunnel out of his reach. He's trying to extend the game on purpose and enjoy it. He could catch you in an instant if he truly wanted to, but half the fun is stalking you; Cornering you.
In a less stressful time you might find it interesting how despite him being so much softer than his fellow primarchs, there is still that latent, apex predator instinct in him that loves this. You aren't supposed to run from predators, it triggers that prey drive in them, and that's exactly what you think Vulkan is feeling when you scurry away from him. There's something in his eyes that's changed the few times you've caught sight of him since the hunt started.
"I can hear you're getting tired. How much longer do you think you can keep this up?"
Your heart hammers against your ribcage as you hide, seeing him walk past the entrance you just went into.
You try to watch and listen as his footsteps trail farther and farther away, and you assume he's going to the other side of the tunnel you're in. Cautiously peeking out the way you went in you don't see him, or hear him, and quickly you scurry out to try another way.
Down the large main tunnel you run and try to ignore the burning in your throat; You're so thirsty, you'd almost consider letting him catch you to just get some water.
You don't know how long it's been- It could only have been an hour for all you know. But you're so tired, stopping in front of a step in your path.
For an astartes it would be a steep step up, but for you, it's a small climb. You jump and with a grunt manage to fold yourself onto it, legs dangling. Your feet kick trying to dig your shoe in to get purchase on the rocks, trying to wiggle higher and get the rest of your body up.
suddenly you feel the ground begin to shake, the sound of his footsteps quickly begins to close in.
You gather all the strength you can to try and clamber for more purchase on the rocks, feeling your heart begin to race as you panic. Despite everything telling you not to you turn around and see him come into view, right towards you. Once he realizes that you're partly stuck he quickens, and you let out another scream as you quickly try and pull up your other leg. But each rock you get a toe on crumbles, causing your heart and your breathing to quicken as he approaches.
You manage to get to your hands and knees on the stone only for him to suddenly grab you by the legs, and you let another another scream. Your hands dig into the dust and dirt and rocks to try and clamber away, kicking your legs at his arms. For a moment you almost don't even remember this is Vulkan- your mind is just saying run.
"You thought you could sneak around me?"
Dragging you across the stone floor to him he lets you dangle off the step, lying on your stomach while your legs hang of the edge. He's tearing at your clothes, your bottoms torn to shreds and you gasp as you feel the weight of his cock against you. The thick head of his cock slips between your outer lips and pushes against your entrance, and you feel the burn of your muscles trying to stretch while the dirt and stone scratches your skin. Your dry throat can only manage to let out a pathetic cry, one that hiccups as your parched mouth can't keep the noise smooth.
"The hunt is over, now I can enjoy the reward."
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The light in he room is dim, the candles mostly melted. You watch the little flames flicker as Vulkan puts a bandage on your torn knee, patting it gently.
"You should try to fall less down there, I wouldn't want you breaking any bones."
You puff out your cheeks full of air before blowing them at him. The warmth of his palms radiates over your skin, feeling good almost as if using a heatpack on sore muscles.
"I try not to, but it's a bit hard to keep upright when a massive primarch is running at you. You're lucky I didn't crumple to the ground and let my heart give out."
Vulkan chuckles, a soft smile on his face that makes your face grow warm.
"You know I would never truly hurt you," He says, and you nod.
"I know, but it's still terrifying," You say. Vulkan moves to bandage your other knee. "I think I could go for longer next time, though." The way he looks up at you is amused but dark, implying that you want more.
"You want to do this again?" You nod, an eagerness held within it that had you embarrassingly warm.
"Of course; I know the layout of the tunnels better now, I think I could avoid you for longer." Vulkan finishes bandaging your other knee and puts his hands on your hips, pulling you closer to him.
"You assume I would bring you to the same tunnels?" Quickly you loose your smile.
"Yes! This is your home and you dug many of these tunnels, let me have a bit of an advantage!" Vulkan laughs, hands squeezing your hips with a comfortable pressure. You swing your legs a bit and one bumps into his stomach by accident.
"That is fair." He looks at you. "You should try not to exert yourself so soon though, I knew right away you would tire yourself out and I could corner you." You look at him curiously, holding your arms.
"You want to make it more difficult for you?"
Vulkan leans in to give you a kiss. His eyes have a bit of that darkness you saw down in the tunnels.
"No true hunter enjoys easy prey. We want a real chase."
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azrielslittleslut · 3 months
Note
HIHIHIHIHI I love your work, it's amazing! I was wondering if you could do a scenario where reader has trouble with her hair and doesn't want to deal with it, (which is like high maintenance? Mine is curly but it could be frizzy in the work!!) and just leaves it looking like a rats nest until Azriel helps her? (Preferably fluff!) Tyyy
Bad Hair Day
Azriel x Fem!Reader
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Warnings: fluff, slight suggestiveness, use of pet names (angel/princess)
Word Count: 1k
a/n: as you can see anon, I wrote this really quick, but it was so fun! I hope you like it! I have board-straight hair, so I hope I got it right!<3
The clock in the corner of the bedroom chimed, alerting you to the time. It was already half past six, which only left you thirty minutes to finish getting dressed before having dinner with the Inner Circle.
You leap up from the bed, discarding the book you had been reading onto the nightstand. You had been so caught up in the story that you hadn't been paying attention to the time.
Family dinners these days have become a rare occurrence, mainly because of everyone's busy schedules. You loved spending time with them, so there was no way you were going to miss it, even if you had to rush to get dressed now.
You rush over to the mirror, and your eyes widen in slight horror at the sight before you. Your hair was sticking out in all directions, and it looked like it would make a comfortable home for any bird flying around. The calm Velaris spring had changed into a blazing summer, and the humidity made dealing with your hair a living nightmare. It caused the soft curls framing your face to turn frizzy and unruly, and it made it pretty much impossible to style.
You huff and get to work. Pulling your hair back, you try to pull it into a low ponytail, but the frizzy curls will not cooperate. You spray some water on it, hoping to tame it enough to do something with it, all to no avail.
You anxiously look over at the clock, and your heart skips a beat when you realize you've wasted fifteen minutes on your hair.
"Looks like I'm gonna rock the rat's nest look tonight," you mumble to yourself. You're running out of time, and you still have to get dressed. You sprint to the closet, and you quickly throw on a silk cobalt blue dress that fits your body perfectly. You put on a pair of small black heels, and you bring the whole ensemble together with some jewelry.
With a last look in the mirror, you turn around to walk toward the door, but it opens before you can get to it. Azriel, your wonderful mate, walks in. He's dressed in a pair of fitted pants and a tight shirt built for his wings. His hazel eyes are bright, and your breath catches in your chest at how beautiful he looks.
"Are you dressed, love?" he asks, his voice full of adoration. "Everyone is already at the River House."
You offer him a nod. "Yep, all ready to go. I just need to put some perfume on right quick." You hurry over to the dresser in search of your favorite scent. Well, it was Azriel's favorite, and you always wore it because you knew it drove him wild.
After spraying a little bit of the mist on your neck and wrists you turn around, but you're stopped in your tracks at Azriel's wide-eyed stare. "Is perfume the only thing you need, angel?"
You look down at the ground, trying to think of anything you have forgotten. You're dressed. You have shoes and jewelry on. You smell good. Suddenly you realize what he's talking about. "Oh, yes! My book." You run over to the nightstand and grab it, clutching it to your chest. You never go anywhere without something to read, even family dinners. "Thank you, Az."
Azriel shakes his head in what looks like disbelief. "No. Your hair, love.." he trails off, searching for words. "Forgive me, but it looks a little.. wild."
You turn your face away from him, trying to hide the embarrassment flooding your cheeks. "I'm having a bad hair day. This is all I can do with it." You look up, glowering at him. "Plus, I thought you liked my wild hair."
He chuckles as he walks over to take your hand. He pulls the book out of your grasp and places it gently on the bed. "I love your wild hair. It reminds me of those long nights we've spent in bed together." You ignore the prickle of desire running through your body at his words. He continues, his voice a purr, "Which is why I do not want to go to family dinner with you looking like that."
"What do you want me to do then, Az? Shave it off?" you do nothing to hide the frustration in your voice. Between rushing to get dressed and the hair fiasco, you were already done with the night.
Azriel pulls you to the bathroom, his scarred hand holding a firm grip on yours. He leads you over to the sink and turns the water on. "Let me help you."
You stare at him with wide eyes as he walks over to the bathtub to grab your shampoo and conditioner off the side. "We're gonna be late. We don't have time."
He motions for you to lean your head under the water. "This would get done quicker if you would stop being stubborn and just let me help you, love."
"Fine," you say as you lean your head down. The water is the perfect temperature and you sigh in contentment. Azriel gently washes your hair, massaging the shampoo into your scalp. He follows with the conditioner, running it through the ends of your hair with his fingers. Once he's done, he towel dries it, being careful not to get any water on your face or dress.
Your hair now falls in soft ringlets around your face and down your back. It looks.. pretty. It's definitely better than anything you could have done. "Is this better?" you ask your mate as he throws the towel in the laundry bin.
"Hmm," he murmurs. "Let's see what else I can do." He pulls two strands of your hair back, twisting them until they meet at the back of your head. He reaches down to grab some pins from the counter, and he gently places them into your hair. "There. Now I have a perfect view of that beautiful face."
You turn around so that you're facing him. You stand on your tip toes to place a quick kiss on his lips. "Thank you. I really couldn't have done that without you."
"Anything for you, my princess," he responds. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I'll never let my mate suffer from a bad hair day."
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divaofmads · 6 days
Text
Queen of Heart | Joel Miller
Inspired by a song ~
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!!WARNING!!: Smut, +18 only, Fluff, Sex with a Strange Man, Bad Language, Slang using, Depressed, No Y/N (also used "she"), cigarette using, Age Gap ( you are in your early 20s and Joel is in his late 30s), Soft Joel, Before Apocalypse
Please leave comment
A/N: I apologize for the mistakes I made in English that is not my native language and I am trying to improve my writing skills.
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It was a Thursday evening, heralding the arrival of winter. It was raining as if it enjoyed making people experience its cold and gloomy spirit. Puddles had turned into lakes, people had opened their umbrellas to avoid getting wet, and those who were unaware of the weather warnings had taken shelter in their coats and bags for protection. Everyone was in a rush. Their steps were fast, their movements were hurried. But fate had no mercy on their pitiful state. As if it enjoyed people's helplessness, it made everything worse. Traffic jams, accidents, people cursing because they couldn't get to where they needed to be... All of these were like a hag blocking the magnificence of the night.
Joel was the only one who submitted to fate that night. He had stuffed his hands into the pockets of his coat to protect himself from the biting cold, and had pulled the collar up and zipped it up to the tip of his nose so that the steam trapped behind the fabric could warm his lips and cheeks, which had become numb by the cold.
He had chosen another way to get home. Since his daughter Sarah was staying over at his uncle’s house, he could forget about responsibilities. He wanted to walk for a long time, all by himself. When he entered a street with broken lights, instead of the angry sounds of the city, the sound of rain hitting the concrete echoed in his ears. He was walking between apartment walls which plaster was cracked and bricks were visible. Dogs and rats hid in spray-painted garbage containers or in cardboard boxes thrown next to the containers. As the wind blew hard, the expired concert posters hanging on the wall could no longer hold on and were flying in the air. Joel’s boots were completely soaked. If he walked any further down the alley, his shoes would slowly start to absorb water.
But Joel’s past kept coming back to him. Every memory was harassing him, coming back to him and making him feel hopeless. The best thing that had ever happened to him in his life was his daughter. She was his luck. When the woman he loved left them, he hoped for a connection with his daughter. But now the feelings he had escaped from years ago were grabbing Joel’s arm and dragging him into the darkness. Still, the city sounds he had complained about a moment ago had given him a chance to distract himself. He had finally left the street and was walking along the sidewalk. Thinking it was time to go home, he looked at his wristwatch, but it wasn’t working. He waited for the green light at the corner of the sidewalk to cross the street. At that moment, he felt movement next to him. Taking advantage of the rain stopping, the old man was smoking a cigarette. He lifted his head slightly, freed his mouth from his coat, and called out to the man.
"Excuse me."
The man looked at him smugly.
"Can you tell me the time? Mine isn't working."
Without taking his eyes off Joel, the man took draws at cigarette , then tugged at the cuff of his jacket and glanced at the clock.
"11.00"
Joel thanked the sullen oldster anyway and wished him good night as he crossed the street after the light turned green.
He was walking on the bridge. Now there was no sound of an engine or a horn coming from a single place. Suddenly he felt like the city was going to swallow him and lifted his bowed head up, taking a deep breath. He saw a woman standing behind the banisters, watching the city view. His slow steps slowed down even more after seeing the woman and finally stopped. Unlike people, she had not escaped from the rain. Her hair that reached down to her shoulders was soaked, the strands of his hair stuck together. She had obviously experienced bigger things that was afraid of neither getting cold nor getting wet. She was wearing a denim jacket that would wear on a spring day, a pair of thin cotton sweatpants underneath, and a scarf wrapped awkwardly around his neck. The girl's body was shaking from the cold, but she didn't seem to feel it. As Joel moved closer to her, he realized she was crying. He wondered what she was thinking as he held on to the banister. Whatever her problem was, Joel wasn't going to leave her there alone. When he gently grabbed the woman's shoulder, she flinched in fear and looked at Joel.
"Madam, you shouldn't be here at this time of day in this weather. You'll catch a cold."
When the woman looked at him, he realized that she was tired of crying for a long time who stared at him blankly, not seeming to be afraid of the large man who had approached her.
"I'm sure, not where I'm supposed to be." she said and continued to look at the view. The girl's mysterious answer caught Joel's attention. Her hysterical look stood out to him. He felt that if they could combine these two unlucky worlds and be happy, they would understand each other.
He subconsciously wanted to show the girl that they were made for each other and imitated her and started looking at the view.
"You know, you're not the only one crushed under the chaotic progress of the city tonight." He said as she continued to look at the view, as if she didn't care what he said. "The only reason I live in this life is my daughter."
But she was not what she seemed, replied in a tone so weak that it was almost inaudible.
"Look, you see? One of us is much luckier." said her voice ready to cry.
Joel felt the girl's answer deep in his heart.
He turned her face and looked at her carefully. "Do you think you don't have this chance?" he thought as asked the question, that such a pure beauty shouldn't be this upset. This was unfair. Her cheeks shouldn't be stained with mascara that flowed with tears, her lips that were chapped from the tension of crying should be kissed by a man who loved her and made her smile.
As soon as the girl heard Joel's question, she turned towards him with her body. Although she pressed her lips together to keep from crying, her trembling chin gave herself away. She looked into Joel's eyes with pain until she swallowed her sobs. Even a little afraid. Her fear was trapped in the cruel arms of loneliness.
"What do you know about me that you can say such a thing?"
Joel nodded and replied, "You're right. I don't know you. But I'm looking into the eyes of a little girl who is tired of embracing her loneliness."
The girl let out a deep breath as she smiled faintly, as if relieved, and turned her head back to the view, breaking eye contact.
Joel patted the girl’s arm through the wet denim jacket. “It’s no coincidence that we met here tonight. Don't you really realize this?”
She frowned, her face contorted as if she were in pain, and she began to cry with all her might. Her sobs made it difficult for her to breathe and to utter the words she was trying to say.
"I'm so tired. There's no hope for me anymore."
If they had met at another time and under different circumstances, Joel was sure that he would have done everything in his power to prevent the young woman from becoming like this. The woman who had a beauty that would have been mentioned among the goddesses in ancient times was now nothing more than a slave trying to please despair and sadness. Only Joel's love could raise the girl's soul to enlightenment. He approached her softly and wrapped his arms around her body, holding her between his own.
"Shhh... I promise you," he said, his fingers caressing her hair tenderly. He pressed her head to his left breast. "Everything you've been through will be left behind."
The girl had lost so much faith that her long loneliness would ever end that when Joel embraced her with fatherly affection, her hysterical weeping flared up and she clung to him as sacredly as a little girl clings to her father. They stayed like that for a while, but she was shivering under his arms from the cold. Joel gently grabbed her arms around her waist and pulled them away from him.
Without thinking, Joel unzipped his coat, took it off, and draped it over the shoulders of the woman whose lips were purple from the cold. Her skinny body was lost in his coat. Joel stood next to her and lifted one arm up and wrapped it around her shoulder so that her body was now warmly pressed between his arm and chest and they started walking.
"Is your house near here?" he asked at first, but there was no answer from her. "I can't leave you alone in the middle of the night. If you tell me where you live, I'll take you there and you'll be safe."
She continued to cry. As they walked down the stairs, Joel tried to calm her down and told her not to cry, but she continued to cry as if she didn't hear him. As they walked down the steps, the girl sometimes talked to herself. Since Joel couldn't hear what she was saying, she couldn't get an answer when he asked what was wrong, but he didn't forget to hug her despite everything.
"You're not answering my questions. We can't stay out much longer, do you hear me? Or you'll get sick." Again there was no response from the girl. "Then I'll take you my home. At least you'll be warm and safe until morning."
"My God, what have you been through until get to this point?"
Joel's house was far away, and when they were halfway there, the woman's steps slowed down considerably. She had no strength left to walk, had already been tired both mentally and physically all day. She could not stand it any longer and told Joel in a pleading tone that she could not go any further. "Can't we stop for a while? Sit on a bench."
Joel looked around but saw that there were no benches. There was nowhere for them to sit and the girl was exhausted. He thought. It was late enough that taxis weren't going to pass very often on the road they were walking on. Joel looked for another solution. Maybe he could wait for the taxi to come, but he was suspicious of you.
"Hang on, honey. We've got ten minutes left," Joel said warmly. Then he placed one arm around her back and the other under legs, lifting her off the ground.
She put her hands around his neck. It was the closest them had been since they met. Their faces were inches apart, he could easily see your eyes, lips, nose, and eyebrows. He had never seen such beauty before. Neither sadness nor grief could hide the girl's beauty. He watched her face carefully to memorize every detail.
The girl's expression changed for a moment. She was crying silently. As if she was afraid he would notice. Joel wondered what was going on in her mind. She must have been in a lot of pain. He increased the strength in his arms and applied pressure to her back, then he brought her face closer to his and kissed her forehead in a sweet, innocent way.
"Okay, little lady, cry if it makes you feel better. I'm here for you, you're not alone, don't worry.
Joel felt tired after a few minutes. The night was cold, but his tiredness left him drenched in sweat. It became difficult to regulate his breathing rhythms. He thought he could have carried it more easily if it had been ten years ago, but he tried not to reflect his tiredness on the girl. He didn't want her to think she had left him in a difficult situation.
When they got home, Joel called out to her. "We're finally here. You can get off my lap." She nodded and got off his lap, looking around. It seemed like a quiet, friendly neighborhood. Considering the apartment building where she lived had a lot of drunken singing, prostitutes laughing, and a daily burglary, this was the kind of neighborhood she'd dreamed of. For the first time since they'd met, they started a topic of conversation. "It must be nice to live in a detached house."
Joel was also surprised, but his surprise turned to happiness. He smiled as he unlocked the door and looked at the young woman. "And we have friendly neighbors. I'm sure you'd love it here."
The young woman merely smiled mousy. As he returned his smile, Joel walked in, and so did the girl. But she was a little shy. Joel took her coat off of himself, hung it on the dresser, and turned to her as he walked inside.
"Hey, you can imagine this your home. Don't ask for permission for anything." The girl nodded and started following Joel. They were taking a little tour in the house. It was like she was going to live in this house now.
The man had already accepted her. He turned to the girl and put his hand on her waist and pulled her to his side so that she would not stand far away. "This is the living room, there is the kitchen over there. After you shower, your food will be ready, we will eat it here, you must be hungry." She could tell by her look how hungry she was.
He smiled and looked at her clothes with displeasure. "We can pick out some clothes that are too big for Sarah. Your clothes will be dry until morning."
The young woman watched the man as he climbed the stairs. He selected a new bathrobe and towel from the linen closet. She continued to watch him as he walked down the hall to the bathroom. As he talked about what she was going to do, she realized that good men could exist beyond fairy tales, and she reveled in that.
"Why are you helping me, someone you don't even know?"
The question was one Joel hadn’t expected. His movements slowed thoughtfully as he dropped the towels onto the chair next to the tub. “I told you. Nothing that happened tonight was by chance.” He straightened up and moved closer to her. “This was meant to happen,” he paused, his eyes fixated on the wall. “Besides, I was serious about you not being alone tonight.”
She didn't know what else to say to him other than 'thank you' as he left her alone in the bathroom to shower.
Joel went down to the kitchen and got the ingredients out of the refrigerator to prepare food and then got to work. He laughed to himself as he remembered the memory that came to his mind while chopping tomatoes on the board. Tommy's girlfriend, whom he had broken up with a week ago, was a strange woman. She was very interested in fortune telling and everyone believed in these ridiculous, made-up prophecies. When Joel invited them to a barbecue party one night and Tommy said that he had definite ideas about fortune telling, the woman insisted on telling him fortune. No matter how angry Joel was, Sarah and he managed to convince him in the end.
Tommy's ex ran over and brought the cards who spread them out on the table. Thus began the cartomancy nonsense. Joel chose the queen of hearts. Warmth, compassion, healing, unconditional love. Sooner or later, her lover's brother would meet a woman with whom he would have a healthy and balanced relationship. They would find in each other everything they lacked, and they would love themselves more in this relationship. Was it really necessary to believe in cartomancy? Maybe that crazy woman was right. Come on!
The sandwiches were ready and took their places on the table. As he poured fresh orange juice into the glasses, he began to hum the lyrics of the Mr. Sandman song that came to mind as a memory.
"Please turn on your magic beam
Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream"
But as he was leaving the glasses on the table, his song was interrupted by the movement he felt in front of the kitchen door. Out of the corner of his eye he saw it was her. She was wearing nothing but a towel covering her privates. Joel's lips were slightly parted, his face somewhere between shock and seriousness. The words were stuck in his throat. "You..." was all he could say.
The young woman put on a facial expression that showed how much she needed him and simply said, "Come, please." holding out her hand.
She released the towel that barely covered her and fell to the floor. Her smooth skin was now bright and shiny in the kitchen light. The perfect measure of her waist, her full breasts with nipples hardened by the cold, my God, she was a true goddess. Still, he thought to himself, to respond to her request would be to take advantage of her confusion and go against his moral sense.
Joel said with a sense of shame hidden behind his serious appearance, "I don't think that's right." He approached the young woman. He picked up the white towel that had fallen on the floor and held it over her to take it. But the girl touched Joel's cheek with an attitude that knew what she wanted and looked him in the eyes with certainty. "I thought about what you said and I realized that we would be good for each other. I need to sleep in the arms of a man like you tonight, if you want it too."
Joel swallowed. He was excited like a boy who was a novice. This was different, very different. He stood there, not knowing what to do, when the young woman suddenly pressed herself to his lips. With one hand, she squeezed his cheeks, causing his lips to part, so she slid her tongue under his tongue. Warm and moist. Rubbing it under and over his tongue, she created a slight tickling sensation.
Shee bit his lower lip, ran her tongue and teeth along his jawbone, and then she started biting his neck. This had felt wrong and foreign to him at first, but he had adapted very quickly. He wrapped his arms around her, picked her up, and with one hand he motioned for her to wrap her leg around his waist. Her feet had left the ground, and they continued to kiss wildly as Joel led her into the living room. Her hair was wet, and water droplets were following a path from her forehead to the corners of her eyes and then to her lips. The wet kiss made them even more passionate. Joel gently laid the young girl on the couch, and with quick movements, without taking his eyes off the girl, he began to take off his clothes. His dark green shirt and the black T-shirt he wore underneath. His bronze skin highlighted his masculine body lines, allowing the light to shine like gold on his muscles in the dim environment. Joel saw the admiration in the girl's eyes and leaned towards her smiling lips with much more enthusiasm. The man's skin was warm, as the woman's cold fingers touched his skin, he felt the lust in their touch deeply, he felt his cells coming back to life. His hands explored the young woman's flexible body lines. He caressed her breasts, squeezed them, and sucked her hardening nipples, leaving bites. When his lips found her neck again, his fingers moved down from her breasts to her belly, leaving tickling touches, and reached her hips and began to caress her legs. The drops of water flowing from her damp hair were wetting the girl's skin, its brightness creating an erotic appearance. As they looked into eyes, they were both out of breath and knew that they had committed the most sacred sin ever. According to Joel, this sin was love, and it was worth burning in hell for it. "Oh my god, you're the sexiest woman I've ever seen in my life," he said as he unbuckled his belt. The sound of his metal belt buckle was hitting the living room walls. The sound of his leather sliding against the denim fabric was quite inviting when he pulled the belt quickly. When he took off his pants, the strain visible in his boxers almost ripped the fabric. After peeling off the black fabric and getting rid of that, he held her ankles and spread her legs apart and entered between them, his rock-hard dick hitting her upper thighs and rubbing against her groin, finding her vulva. He was now applying pressure to her swollen outer lips. The love they felt for each other had spread from their souls to their bodies, causing spasms in their groins. The cold feeling left by the water combined with Joel’s warm tongue strokes created an indescribable sensitivity in her neck, breasts, and belly. You were touching each other in places no one had ever touched before. Now they had to go much further than making love. When her hand reached out and grasped Joel’s erect penis, they smiled at each other’s lips.
"You are so eager, lady, so ready to touch me." Biting her lower lip,
"So aren't you?" the girl asked.
"I'm always ready for you," he said, pressing the girl's flexible body even more onto the cushion and they continued kissing while the girl rubbed his dick.
He was moaning so seductively that as his hot breath touched her ear and the back of it, a shiver ran down her spine and covered her body, accompanying her moans as she closed her eyes and felt his voice more. She didn't even need to touch him now, for her to squirt.
Joel placed his calloused fingers on the woman's tiny waist and, with a force so hard that it hurt slightly, forced the girl to lie face down. She could feel the slight sting of thorns on her skin as her breasts were pressed against the furry fabric. She must have been allergic.
He pulled her wet hair from her back and found its place on the left side of her neck, biting her bare side and started rubbing his penis hard in her vagina. In this way, the extreme pleasure and pain she felt would balance each other.
Joel growled. "Oh, it feels so warm and wet!"
When his cock, which was getting harder as it rubbed against her vulva, restricted her movements, the young woman lifted her hips up with the help of her arms and, standing in doggy position, started to caress his cock and balls between the parts of her hips. Joel was shaking on his knees, leg muscles clenched, breathing shallow.
He didn't want to end things like this. He wanted to feel the girl from the inside. He held her ass tightly and stopped her. He took his veiny cock in his hand and placed it at the entrance to her vagina.
Before he entered her, Joel asked passionately, "You wanted my cock so bad, uh, honey?"
As soon as she answered, "Yes," Joel reached for her hair and grabbed her roughly, pulling her back. "No short answers! Tell me what you want me to do!"
"I want your thick cock , please!" she breathed.
"Atta girl!" He whispered with warm breath on her ears.
He pushed the head of his penis into her vagina and inserted it. Her vagina slowly expanded and her walls wrapped around his cock that was too thick for. She moaned in slight pain, but it was also very pleasurable. Joel finally pushed it all inside. Her vagina was stretched wider than ever. He started pumping with long, slow strokes. She hadn't had much experience with sex before, but it was obvious that he was the best.
"You tell me when to speed up, honey." He whispered. She began to respond to his movements in a synchronized manner.
His hands gripped her elbows tightly, pulling her body a little closer.
She moaned, "Now, fuck me faster now!"
He moved faster, thrusting his at least seven inch cock in and out rapidly. Wet sounds were made as her vagina met his cock. Joel bend over and pulled her closer, his hands still gripping her elbows. He placed his hand under her chin, forcing her eyes to look up at the ceiling, so that he could place her head in the crook of his neck. His thumb was gently caressing her cheek. He placed his lips somewhere between her jawbone and ear. A shiver ran down spine and into her groin.
Deep and guttural moans released from his mouth, "Why does your pussy feel so good!"
The girl used her vagina to squeeze Joel, driving him crazy. They were shaking every time that big hard tool entered her.
He growled with powerful deep thrusts "Do you like the feeling of a man's penis that you don't know, uh?"
The girl's voice sounded like she couldn't stand the pleasure any longer. "Yeah, I love the way you fuck me!"
While he was pumping his penis inside her over and over again, with the last pump he would take the young woman to the edge. She would reach the peak of pleasure. He could feel her pulse on the surface of his finger as he squeezed her neck under his hand while he was cumming inside her. As his seeds washed her cunt, the girl also had an orgasm and both of their pleasure juices flowed out of her vagina at the same time. The space between her legs was sticky and shiny. Drops of water were running down the insides of her upper thighs. As their breaths mingled, the young woman freed herself from Joel's grasp and threw herself onto the couch, lying on her back. Her chest was rising and falling. There was still an inviting look in the girl's eyes. Joel took advantage of this and collapsed on top of her, started to kiss her lips. His tongue was kissing her as if he was fucking her mouth now. As their passionate kiss slowly heated up, Joel's hands couldn't stop themselves from caressing her legs. But he didn't want to tire her out any further. They still hadn't eaten. He didn't want to drain her of all her energy, so he pulled his lips away from hers and leaned his face against her chest.The young woman put her fingers into his grey hair strands and started to mix it up slowly.
After they had rested, the girl asked, "Are you sure your daughter won't suddenly appear and catch us?"
Joel lifted himself up on his arms and looked down at the young woman. "She's staying with her uncle tonight. It's not possible. Are you hungry?"
She nodded, "I'm starving."
Joel stood up, picked up her , put her arms around him, looked at him with happy eyes, and he walked out of the living room and up the stairs. He took her to the bedroom. After cleaning the sperm and pre-cum leaking from her vagina, he left her alone in the room. He brought clothes from the bathroom and handed them to the girl. "After you get dressed, you can go down to the kitchen."
They were both silent as they ate. If she asked him a question about his life, she had to tell him either, and the same was true for Joel.
However, it was Joel who broke the silence."Why were you on the bridge? It didn't look like you were trying to commit suicide."
The girl was chewing the bite from the sandwich. That's why she couldn't pronounce the words properly. But Joel could see the sadness returning to her face.
""I just wanted to forget myself in the chaos of the city." Then she grinned insincerely, as if she had to smile. "Otherwise I'm too cowardly to commit suicide." Her voice trembled as she emphasized the last words, and averted her eyes.
Joel stroked her hair. "Shh... I'm with you now. I won't give you any reason to cry."
He put his arms on the table and leaned towards her slightly. "Really, we haven't officially met yet. I asked you your name when we were walking on the street, but you brushed it off."
The woman couldn't make an excuse, but she was nervous as she answered Joel's question, unlike him. He repeated her name over and over as they spoke. As if each time he said her name was a great reward. Joel liked the woman. The way she was young and beautiful, the way they had met, the way she enjoyed his conversation except when he was sad.
Joel called out to her, trying to start a new topic of conversation, but she was the first to respond. “Joel, I actually want to go to sleep. We’ve been through enough.”
Joel nodded in displeasure. But he was also trying to understand the girl's situation. He was being understanding. "Okay, you can go sleep wherever you want."
As she stood up, she patted Joel's arm and gave him a rather long kiss on the cheek. "Thank you for everything, Joel. I'll always remember that kindness."
After the girl left, Joel sat in the kitchen chair for a while longer, wondering if Sarah would like the young lady. Would their relationship crown itself with love, as the crazy Ex said?
Joel chuckled to himself. He was being ridiculous, really. A forgotten emotion had awakened and blossomed in his heart, exciting him and making him feel like a high school teenager. He put his teenage thoughts out of his mind and collected the dishes from the table and put them in the dishwasher. He still had a goofy smile on his face. It was a very difficult day for him too. All the negativity had piled up and he felt like life was suffocating him. However, this beautiful girl had entered his life like an angel and brought the light of heaven to his soul.
When Joel climbed the stairs and entered his room, he saw that the girl was already asleep in her bed. He lay down next to her without letting her wake up. When the girl mumbled something in her sleep, Joel thought she was talking, so he answered. But she was just mumbling. Names of people he didn't know, names he'd never heard in their conversations. His dream was to watch her until the morning, but the tiredness of the day took him captive too.
He was dreaming. It was the most peaceful dream he had had in a while. He felt proud, and he claimed to know. The Queen of Hearts had not failed him. She was right there beside him, bringing light into his life. What else could rich bourgeois girl mean? He was lucky now.
But this dream was cut short by the morning sun. The sky had just brightened. The biting cold of winter was chilling. That's why when he woke up, he had his arms clasped together. He had rubbed his eyes and looked to his left to realize his dream of wishing good morning to the woman he loved, whom he had missed for a long time. But she was not there. His eyebrows furrowed in curiosity. The side where the girl had slept last night was the window side and he saw something on the window pane that had been fogged up from the cold. He stood up, approached the window with heavy steps and stared at the writing written in the fog there.
"Goodbye."
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