#[ she's already died twice at this point ]
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#the second rhaenyra named her fourth son aegon. she was dead. her first three sons were dead. aegon was going to be king. and that’s doom!! #no one won the dance!!!! aegon is rhaenyra’s son and aegon ii’s heir and he is a sad little boy forever!!!!
Any thoughts on Aegon III?
He makes me so sad
being named aegon is the narrative dooming you to be eaten from the inside out until all you have is the crown on your head and aegon iii had no chance at all. named aegon before the war started as part of the petty fight between rhaenyra and alicent to compete for the succession and harken back to the Glory Days of the Conquest. then named aegon because he doesn’t get to have an identity outside of the crown he doesn’t want and the civil war that killed his entire family and the generational doomrot in his veins.
and even though he spent his entire life trying to run away from the trauma aegon iii still continued the exact same cycle that ruined his life in the first place. his wife was the six year-old in his big sister’s custody that she gave to him and told him to marry. his firstborn son was a warmongering child-general who died tragically at 15. his secondborn son imprisoned all his sisters for being women. evil is a relay sport and that kiddo got burned alive
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youpoint-ipunch · 1 year ago
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After much consideration I think Ava is gonna eat one of the worms or whatever you do with em.
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grugruel · 4 months ago
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Your daddy know 'bout this?
(Don't be fooled, there's no daddy kink!)
Pairings: dbf!cowboy!bucky x f!reader
MDNI/NSFW
Masterlist
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Summary: A few days short of your 21st birthday, you decide to celebrate with your friend at the local bar. Unbeknownst to you, a close friend of your dad's is there.
When he sees you with beer in hand and in the lap of another man, things get heated. Somehow, you end up in his shirt, at his house.
Word count: 5.1k
Warnings: pinv sex, passionate sex, forbidden realationship, violence, blood, underaged drinking, slight angst, cum eating, I love yous', mentions of masturation, tension, arguments, slight jealousy and protectiveness, pet names (girl, woman, ma'am, princess, sweetheart)
AN: not yet proofread, might be rough around the edges! Enjoy girlies🥹🫶
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It was his one free night in a long time, and his buds pulled him along for a drink. He had no real objections, for he was in a good mood and it'd get even better once he had a drink in him.
The group of men emerged from the damp, rainy night and dove into the smoke tainted air and usual bustle of the local dive. They ordered their drinks and made their way to the back where the booths were, a jumble of familiar faces greeting them on their way. Until-
Bucky saw a face he ought not to see in a place like this. "Excuse me a moment, fellas. I got somethin' to take care of."
Their group turned to him, confused. "Wha-" and looked in the direction he was already headed. "Well shit, good thing her daddy ain't come with us." The group shared a few nervous glances, then shrugged and chuckled. "Wouldn't want to be one of those boys right now."
-
"Well . . . " a voice chuckled loudly.
She could see the source approaching their table from her peripheral, his form vaguely illuminated by soft lamp light through the gloom. " . . . Aint this a sight?"
She knew that voice, she could hear the telltale grin that shaped it.
Catching onto the change in energy, the giggles and boisterous laughter of their small group died down. Tense glances exchanged between them, all eventually landing on the intruder, all except her own.
Commotion continued sounding around them, their table the only to emit an unusually low amount of noise. "Anyone wanna tell me whats goin' on here?" The voice asked.
Swallowing, she realised she'd been intently staring into a cadleflame. She belived that maybe she'd have a chance at going unnoticed if she sat still enough.
"I asked you a question, doll."
She winced. That was his nickname for her. Fuck. She tore her gaze from the candle, snapping it to her friend across the table and gave her a sidelong glance that meant 'trouble' to which her friend nodded in agreement.
The low light that made the place cosy just moments before now only existed to muddle her thoughts. But, it could work in her favour. She carefully pushed her drink behind her elbow, hoping it wasn't too late to hide, and her friend followed her lead.
She turned toward the man, a cheap grin plaster on her face. "Hey . . . Buck," she spoke slowly, as if it'd somehow make him more agreeable.
"Hey there, princess," he grinned. Hat on his head. "Wanna explain this to me?" Pointing lazily to their gathering.
She shrugged, attempting to act nonchalant. Because admitting your wrong would confirm it's wrong. "Nothin special, we were just leavin', in fact."
A scoff blew past her ear. "The hell we are." The lap she sat on stiffened beneath her, tapping his feet–once, twice–in a show of impatience, and rocking her body in the process. The man then whispered in her ear. "Who is this guy anyway?"
She inclined her head, nervous eyes avoiding the big cowboy that stood imposing at the end of their table, and murmured a quiet reply over her shoulder. "No one. . . in particular." A lie, of course. "Let's just go."
The cowboy chuckled. "You're not leavin' with him, you're leavin' with me." That drawl could make the most steeled stumaches jittery with butterflies. Her friend must've felt it too by they way she squirmed in her seat.
She had to screw her eyes shut in a moment of contemplation. Why'd he have to be here tonight? Why'd they have to go to a bar he frequented?
She looked back at her friend with panic in her eyes. Boy, were they in for it. She could think of nothing else then to simply ask nicely, hoping it'd appeal. "Please, just go."
He smirked, putting a hand on his hips and showing a stern but playful disposition. "Your daddy know 'bout this?" He tipped his hat in their direction.
She pinned him with her eyes, narrowing them with independent annoyance. "Im my own woman, B-"
'What's it to you?' The guy beneath cut her off.
Bucky switched his attention to the guy, and she could feel him shrink a little under Bucky's gaze. "Hell, no need for that tone! I was just sittin' with my buds over there." He pointed to the group of men Buck came with, no doubt to put some pressure on the poor guy. From the looks of it, they'd been listening in on our conversation, and now waved to her, idly laughing at the situation, ready to jump in at any moment.
She shyly waved back, a tight smile on her lips.
"See, I just saw your little group havin' a grand ol' time over here and wanted to join you," Bucky laughed. "And when I noticed that fine woman in your lap, I thought I'd have a chat with her." He disguised it well, but she could hear the anger beneath his humoured exterior.
"You two know each other?" The guy asked, I'll at ease.
"Well enough." Bucky took a moment to look her over, a scan for any harm. But his eyes stuck on the short skirt and thin shirt. If possible, he looked even more bothered. "Wouldn't you say, sweetheart?" He glanced at her, and she could see the danger that lurked in his eyes. It began to dawn on her more and more how knee deep in trouble she was.
She cleared her throat, a nervous blush creeping up her cheeks. "Mhm," she hummed. It felt like he could see through her.
The guy's hand slunk to the bare skin of her thigh, attempting to mark his territory when seamingly he'd decided his dislike of the situation. "Huh, what's with the hat anyway, you some kind of sheriff?" He asked. But cut Bucky off as he was about to answer. "Either way," he waved his hand dismissively. "She's fine where she is. She can make her own decisions." And just like that, he'd successfully stolen the point she'd been trying to make.
She shook her head. Stupid, stupid boy.
Bucky's face hardened, any sign of humour gone from him. "I assure you, I dont need a sheriff's badge to take her home, It's within my right." He braced his hand against the table, leaning closer to them.
Her uterus roiled at that. 'take her home'
"Now, get that hand off of her, boy." He snarled, annoyance and authority resounding in his voice, promising a solution to the mans cocky demeanor. "She ain't yours to touch."
"Why?" The guy asked. "She yours?" His hand slid higher, squeezing her thigh, challenging the much broader man.
She exhaled, releasing a frustrated hum in early defeat, he'd doomed them both.
The cowboys jaw tensed. Silently, but undoubtedly steaming, he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and pushed them above his elbows. The veins on his forearms pop from strain, knuckles turning white from his fists clenching. "Fella. . ." He began, calming his composure, then pointed two loose fingers at the girl in the mans lap. "Had she been mine, you'd be on the floor already. Now, that girl, ain't of drinkin' age, neither is she to be touched by a slimy bastard like yourself."
Fuck, so he did see the drink. She shook her head again, warning him. "Bucky. . ." A very bad attempt at dissuading him from doing whatever he was about to do. She could almosy feel the guy beneath her sink into the booth they were sitting in. Perhaps he had some sense after all.
Her friend grabbed her arm, loosely yanking on it as her anxious eyes flickered between the men in conflict. She herself sitting in the lap of the guy's friend, who was preparing to step in if necessary. "We should go before this gets ugly," her friend whispered.
"Respectfully, ma'am, she ain't going nowhere without me." The cowboy opposed, directing his attention to her friend.
No, no, no no. . . Dread filled her, he'd drive her straight home to her parents.
Bucky's eyes fell back on the guy, now shrunken and small under his gaze. "So. . . Stand up, 'n leave, boy," he spoke with the authority of a sheriff but stood with the confidence of an outlaw. "There's no need for altercations, I was enjoyin' my night. N' I don't wish that to change-"
"I'll call on the bouncer," the guy shot out, his face probably as pale as his overly white and fragile shirt, pointing to a man behind the cowboy. Her eyes followed the steps down from the seating area, and through the dimly lit dive where a big man stood posted by the door. The guy beneath her then glanced at his friend across from them, both extending curt nods to one another.
She wanted to wretch, he was acting a coward and standing up to Bucky with the threat of enlisting two other men to his side. She sighed loudly, making a point for him to hear as she eyed her friend. "Well, I sure know how to pick em'." And her friend, inspite of the commotion they found themselves in, covered her mouth in snicker.
Bucky narrowed his eyes in a second of silent fury, then answered with a laugh, not missing a beat. "You mean that bouncer?" He asked and turned around, calling a greeting to the bouncer, who in turn tipped his hat with a smile. The type of gesture that indicated a longstanding friendship. "We're well aquainted," Bucky grinned. "But im sure he'd love to sort this situation out."
If they had any sense at all, the two men would leave with what little dignity they had left and realise that they were already outnumbered inspite of being 2 to 2.
"Leave, girls," the guy easily dismissed them.
She gave him a pointed look, flashed her eyebrows, and jerked her head to the side in a 'you had it coming' motion, and then grabbed her friend's hand.
"Asshole," she sighed and steered them out of the booth, taking the cider in her other hand. Silly as she was, she thought she could simply leave, perhaps just slip by Bucky. But no, his strong hand grabbed her bicep as she passed by, and set his blues deep into her own. "Wait by the truck, I'll drive ya' home." He said, looking between the two girls.
"Fine . . . " She sighed.
"N' dont even think of running, cause I'll catch ya'," he warned, and she rolled her eyes inspite of the burning that settled in her core.
She tried to yank herself free, but he didn't let go. "What? You wanna hear a 'yes sir'?" She dared the words, teasing, as nervousity built in her gut.
His eyes searched hers, a slow grin spreading over his lips as he leaned closer, bending down to whisper in hear ear. "Dont get cocky with me, girl." And his hand began sliding downward, making her shiver, leaving goosebumps in the wake of his touch.
She swallowed, that tone, the hat? God. Her uterus purred, and in a sudden surge on confidence, she answered. "No, sir."
He grabbed the glass bottle from her hand and grinned, taking a sip. "Good, girl. Now go." And pointed to the door.
Would it be wrong to say she started salivating? His words, together with his lips making contact with the same surface she had? There was something about it, something that made her . . . Pulse.
Bucky whistled and his friend–the bouncer–came bounding up the steps, him along with the group of dad's and bucky's friends only a few steps behind.
The bouncer tipped his hat to her and her friend in passing, a smirk on his lips. Nice to know there was still some gentlemen in the world.
She smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. He was quite handsome too.
"Dont even think 'bout it," Bucky warned.
She rolled her eyes, and then they were finally on their way out, meeting Bucky's group of friends on the way, all nodding and greeting her. "Tell your daddy we missed him tonight." One said, and they all chuckled.
The girls hurried off, giggling. But anxiety lingered in the depths of her chest. Those men were rogue witnesses in all of this.
As she held the door open, voices raised behind them. She could see the crowd turning to look in Buckys direction, anf she herself followed their gazes. And found them just in time to see Bucky's knuckles collide with the jaw of the guy she'd spent her night on, sending him sprawling.
-
Plunging into the deep night, the cold swept over them. "He's hot, ain't he?"
She didn't want to answer, or simply didn't want to admit it and just gave her friend a look of understanding.
"God, I was ready to pounce on him the second he called me ma'am."
The girl understood that too.
-
After about ten minutes wait, Bucky emerged from the bar. Unscathed, apart form bloody knuckles and dark cloud around his head. Before even saying a thing, he'd already removed his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. "I only got one of them. Apologies, ma'am," he told her friend and opened the truck door for them both. "The truck'll warm you up."
"Thats ok, thank you," her friend answered, and the girls shared a knowing look. Their thoughts connecting in fiendish collectivity.
"Alright, get in. We'd better get goin'."
-
The ride was relatively quiet. We knew better than to anger him further. Anxiety was growing within her, though, she didnt wanna know what would happen when her friend was let off.
"Text me ok? I'll se ya' later." Her friend said, eyeing Bucky. She leaned her head through the open window of the truck. "But- let me know how that goes," she whispered. "And good luck." She raised her eyebrows with a smirk on her lips.
The girl rolled her yes. "Sure will." And with one last wave, they were off.
-
When there were only the two of them, they could say whatever they wanted with confidence. But so far, there'd only been a few sighs and breaths of shared irritation. Neither of them were particularly pleased with the situation.
But she wanted to be the first to speak. "I'll be 21 in a few days, Buck."
"Doesn't mean you have good judgement."
She bristled. "I'm not a little girl anymore!"
" 'Course not, I can tell by the way you dress. That what a grown woman look like to you?" He nodded to her body, barely covered apart from his thick jacket over her torso.
She pulled it closer around herself. "Like what exactly? What do I look like to you? A slut, a hooker?" Her face stung from embaressment. She felt like a child again, being berated for something she wasn't able to puzzle together by herself.
He clicked his tongue, jerking his head to the side. His patience was running thin. "Dont twist my words, doll. I'm callin you careless."
"That dont matter comin' from you, you're not my daddy." She knew the comment would get a rise out of him, because she knew he'd ment no ill intent, and she knew he cared for her. But she was mad, and so was he.
"No, n' you should thank fucking god he wasn't there to bust you. I was the better option, I can promise you that."
She exhaled a frustrated breath, turning her attention toward the windshield. Watching droplets of water paving their way over the condensation covered glass. "You weren't the only one to bust me, though, were you?" She spoke lowly, feeling like a coward for even asking. "The boys gonna say something?"
He gripped the steering wheel harder, his roughed up knuckles tearing. "I told em' I'd take care of it." It must've stung, but he took no notice. Other things pestered his mind.
Worry mixed in with all other emotions as her gaze drifted to his hands, and her mind immidetly moved into recovery mode. "So what's that mean, you gonna tattle on me now?"
He looked over at her, brows furrowed right beneath the rim of his hat. He couldnt begin to understand her. "That all you care about?"
"Right now? Well, yeah. I dont want a scolding."
"All grown and still daddy's little girl, worried about his opinions."
"And if I say yes, what then, girl?
"I dunno, m' gonna have to convince you not to."
"Like you convinced that guy to buy you beer, huh? What'd you do, flirt with him? Give him a handjob, suck him off? What did I miss before catching you?"
Her mouth hung open in disbelief. "You fucking asshole!" She shook from anger, she never expected words like that to be thrown at her. Especially not by him. But she'd get him back, there was no reason behind her actions now. "Maybe I would've, I even bet it would've worked if I'd asked you. Right? You would've just loved having your friends pretty daughter gettin' you off, huh!" She half shouted the last sentence, her chest heaving with effort and fury.
"That's enough." His tone was unforgiving, shooting a sense of reality back into her.
"I'll shut up if you answer the god damned question Buck, would it have worked?"
But Bucky didn't answer, his jaw clenched and unclenched, biting back his words. If she thought the silence had been bad before? It was deafening now.
After calming down again, her words hit her like a freight train. She always had a friend in Buck, but now she wasn't sure. The words that'd been thrown back and forth had set them off balance, their entire relationship was on unsteady ground. Something had been rewritten in the rules between them.
There'd always been attraction, but that wasn't something they ever spoke of. They'd always been close, good friends even. But now, something had changed. And it made her feel sick. She'd had an ally in him, but now, she wasn't so certain.
After a long whole of shutting her mouth out of stubbornness, the fate of her father finding out was worse, so she broke. "Please don't bring me home, Buck. Dad'll throw a fit." She tried to smile, to soften her voice. But it felt wrong.
After a moments uncertainty on her part, and strained breathing on his, he spoke. "Im not makin' the detour, you can sleep at mine, that was always the plan anyway." He admitted, sounding utterly tired.
And now she felt extremely guilty, eyes studying him as he gripped the steering wheel harder. Her gaze drifted over his body, his face, his hands. Stopping on the roughed up and bloody knuckles. He'd beaten that guy for her. Out of jealousy, or simply because he was protective?
She turned away, her chest feeling hollow and followed the birches and sprucetress as they flashed by the truck. Their colors and textures blending together as they met the dark consistent sky above them.
Bucky's house was dark, he only lit a few tablelamps when they arrived. It was better that way, she recognized herself here, within the gloom and the safety of his home. It was second to her own.
"I'll get your something more comfortable," he said, his eyes avoiding her clothes, her body as a whole and disappeared into his bedroom.
Was it because he thought they didn't fit her, or the opposite? Had he been mad at himself for being attracted to her?
She nodded slowly, calling out to him, "we should do something about that hand of yours."
"It's fine, I'm fine." He said, re-emerging, meeting her eyes. "Here," he handed here a t-shirt and a pair of shorts, most likely too big for her. "I'll take the couch, n' you can take my bed."
She nodded again, and headed into the bathroom.
Buckys t-shirt was longer on her than the skirt she'd worn, so she opted out of the shorts. Luckily findig a roll of gauze in the bathroom cabinet.
She emerged from the bathroom, a pair of panties and the oversized t-shirt the only things on her body. "You want something to-" Bucky paused as she rounded the corner, and suddenly she herself stopped short–caught off guard.
Bucky stared at her, and whatever he'd been about to say was lost the second he looked up. Bucky cleared his throat, and with the weight of a 15 year long friendship on his shoulders, his eyes stayed glued to hers.
Inwardly, she smiled and hoped the lowly lit livingroom couldn't reveal the blush on her cheeks. "Found some gauze," she held the roll up, indirectly asking for permission to bandage him.
He opened his mouth to decline, she could even see his head begin to shake in dismissal.
But she cut in before he had the chance. "Just let me help, you can be mad and still let me help."
His eyes hardened, but hesitantly, he nodded all the same. "Im fine, doll."
She raised her brows with skepticism and made her way toward him, the fabric of buckys shirt doing its best at showcasing her breats.
Bucky clenched his fist in an attempt to control himself, he winced, the wounds on his knuckles re-opening.
"Yeah," she scoffed. "Sure seems fine to me." And placed herself infront of him. From his position on the couch, he had to look up at her. At that, a flicker of heat blazed in her core. Oh, those eyes. His big, pleading eyes, all sad and hurt. Did he want her gone or want her in some other way?
She kneeled, settling between his thighs and grabbed his hand. "You don't got to be so stubborn all the time. . . Just wanna help you." She wrapped his hand carefully, enjoying every second of his corse skin over hers. Once done, he tried flexing his hand, and winced again. He still hurt, that much was clear, but was too proud to admit it. "Want me to kiss it better?" She joked, hoping it would lighten the mood. But he did that thing again, where he said nothing, and instead clenched his jaw, as if holding back a yes. So she took her chance.
Keeping their eyes locked, she brought his wrapped knuckles to her lips, and kissed them through the bandage once, then moving further up to kiss the softer skin of the back of his hand. Again, his eyes were pleading, and he moved the hand to cup her cheek, stroking her cheekbone with his thumb. She took it as encouragement and kissed his palm, his wrist, his forearm. She stood up on her knees, kissing his bicep and reached for his shirt to pull him closer. She cupped his face and brought him inches from her own, nuzzling her nose against his.
Finally, when her lips reached for his, he pulled away. "Stop, stop," he nudged his forehead against hers. "We can't," he moved his lips away, cheek to cheek, he kissed the soft spot in front of her ear. "We can't."
"Cant, or wont?" She asked dully.
Those pleading eyes were back, begging her not to make him answer that question. She nodded absentmindedly, pulled into her thoughts. She stood up and moved away from him, his hand sliding down her arm and locking around her wrist, stopping her. "Dont leave."
"I'm comin' back."
After a few minutes of bustling in the kitchen, she returned to him. Sidling up next to him on the couch, her curled up legs lulling into his lap as she handed him a whiskey glass, then cradled her own. He whispered a thank you, looking into her eyes, and she whispered a you're welcome, looking into his. Then they sat like that for a while, quiet, unmoving. Bucky's hands finding their home on her legs, glas in one hand and her knee in the other. Somehow, this wasn't crossing a line for them, this was their normal, this was something not even her family questioned, this was them.
"Im sorry, doll." he said finally. "I never meant to imply-"
"It's ok, Buck." He opened his mouth to speak again, but she stopped him. "Really, It's fine. I'd rather not dwell on it."
Another moments silence passed between them, it was uncomfortable, but the unsaid lingered in the air like a thick wall between them, and hung over them with the threat of smothering. "We need to talk about us."
"I didn't like the way he was touchin' you," he said, choosing the topic before she had a chance at it. If he had to approach them, he would do it indirectly. "It didn't look like you were enjoyin' it."
Her eyebrows raised, "You would've punched him even if I were enjoying it." She commented sourley.
He squeezed her knee, gently rubbing circles into the skin beside. "He acted like he owned you," He turned his unscathed hand upside down, brushing his knuckles up and down her sensitive skin.
It all went straight to her head, veins throbbed with heat she didn't know she could feel. All brought out by a single touch of his hand.
But she wouldn't let off. "And what do you 'spouse beating him for it is?"
He stayed silent, his hand turned again, this time to grab her soft flesh, squeezing it with purpose. Much like the guy had done, but this felt different. This felt good, real good.
She swallowed, closing her eyes to focus on the words she needed to say. "What made you think you had the right? If not that I already belonged to–" she stopped, and their eyes met in a quick glance.
He let out a frustrated sigh. "I was only protectin' you." He defended, but it didn't quite sound like he believed the words himself. Nor did she. But if he wasn't ready to see it as it was, she wouldn't pressure him.
Instead, she laid her head on his shoulder. "It shouldn't be this hard."
He shook his head, the words seemingly struck a cord within him. For he sat insilence, pondering, a long while. "I would've said no, you know. And it would've killed me." She looked at him strangely, forgetting what he was referring to for a moment. "I would've said yes, if you hadn't felt forced to it, like it was a last resort to keep your secret."
Oh. . . "Had I wanted it, you'd said yes?" She stared unbelieving into the dark space infront of them.
"Nothin' could stand in my way." He slid his hand further up her thigh, fingers exploring the skin just beneath the hem of his/her shirt.
She sat up straight to look at him properly, she couldn't tell if he was serious. "You want me?"
"More than anything," his voice was breathless, barely a whisper. His index and long finger reaching further up, exploring more than he'd ever dared. "Cant even explain how many times I imagined you gettin' me off after you said it. How much I hated the thought, the sight of you with that guy, his hands all on you."
A pang of need shot through her. She put her whiskey down, and braced her hands against his chest. "But why tell me now, whats changed? Whats changed in this last hour?" His fingers rubbed the skin of her hips beneath her panties, sending shivers running over her body, shivers she'd only previously dreamed he'd be the cause of.
"You're right, it shouldn't be this hard. I'm makin' it too hard." His hand slid to her waist, still invisible to him, but no longer untouchable. Magnetically, they were pulled together, faces inching closer and closer to oneanother.
"And what about daddy?" It was becoming hard to focus, she wouldn't stop him for the world. Bow, they were close enough to feel the dampness of their breaths.
His hand continued exploring farthur up, fingertips finally reaching the soft, plush flesh below her breast. "Your daddy ain't here, is he?"
She began shaking her head in disbelief, lips brushing against eachother. "Dont promise something if you can't follow through."
His hand stopped, "I can, please," he begged, waiting for her go-ahead. "I can. . ."
His words vibrated against her skin, electrifying her body. "Fuck," she moaned, he's right there. Right, there, infront of her, for her. "Then do, please do, Buck."
And just like that, both hands were beneath her shirt, pulling her into his lips and squeezing her breasts.
Breathless moans filled the silent air, they tore at eachother greedily. Pulling and pushing eachothers bodies, fighting to get Bucky free of his clothes.
Snaking one arm behind her back, he guided her down onto cushions and placed himself above her. Still clothed by jeans, he rolled his hips against her core, grinding the rough fabric against her barely clothed clit. This, is what she had been craving. The exact static friction, the heat and movement between their bodies producing all the pleasure she needed. She moaned heavily, beacause still, she wanted more. Pulling her legs up and her panties off, she wordlessly signaled for him to do the rest.
With a groan, Bucky dove into her neck, kissing and sucking, all the while he unzipped his jeans and pulled them off together with his boxers. No time was wasted, he lined his member up with her core within a second, prodding and teasing at the opening. "Please, please, please." She sounded desperate, but fuck, she was. And feeling it was worse then sounding it.
"Yes ma'am." He said, and thrusted into her. A gasp escaped them in unisome. With the arm still around her waist, he pulled her into his hips, his body straining as he delved deeper inside her than she thought possible.
"Yes. . ." She whined. "More."
He kissed his way up her throat, their hips freed and collided into eachother with steady, strong thrusts, pushing her deeper into the cushions with every rut. Nothing could compare, he was unparalleled. Bucky, despite what he was already achieving, kissed his way up her neck, unfaltering in his duty.
Her hands found his face, cupping it and bringing him back to her, and their lips met again. "Taste so sweet," he murmured, sinking his tongue into her. The salt of her skin mixing with her saliva. "Want all of you."
She smiled against him. "Harder."
He did as ordered, keeping his pace and adding pressure. "Yeah," he moaned. "Being so good for me, girl." And pulled her deeper onto his member. Her breaths grew rapid and shallow, fingers clawing at his back as she had nowhere to go, all pleasure directed straight into her. "Close, so fucking close," she cried.
"Good," he chuckled breathely against her skin, and that was a she needed. Her back arched in euphoria, and stars stung her eyelids, speckling the darkness. "Good job, sweetheart. Just breathe," he continued thrusting into her, softly, easing her through the orgasm. "Good girl. Well done. . ." He whispered, kissing her jaw. The stars began fading and she regained her senses, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Beautiful, girl." He moaned, still rutting into her, chasing his own high while wiping the tears from her face. Her body began tingling, on the vege of breaking down.
"Dont know how much more I can take, Buck." She kissed his cheek, focusing on the skill of his lips.
"Almost there, almost. . ." he moaned, increasing his pace. The slickness of her core created a sickening sound together with the slapping of their skin. It was heavenly, but she could feel the pressure building within her again.
"Mmmh, m' gonna cum again, please buck, dont stop."
He didn't, he continued, intent on coming together with her. He bit into her lip, causing her to yelp and yield the hold on his face and licked a trail down her chest and breast, then taking it into his mouth. Sucking and slurping in an insane rythm with the slapping. "Yes, yes! Fuck, Bucky." she called out, and Bucky pulled out of her.
Coming only a second after, his seed spilling over her abdomen. "I love you, I love you." He moaned with faltering breaths, bracing himself on his forearms on either side of her, kissing every part of skin that he could reach.
Holy shit? "I love you too." She smiled lazily, drunk off of her two consequent orgasms. Laying her hand on her stumache, she felt his sticky substance coat her fingers.
His eyebrows knit together in guilt. "Sorry 'bout that sweetheart, I'll get a towel-"
She grabbed his bicep and shook her head, locking her eyes onto his as she brought the fingers to her lips and licked them off, popping them in her mouth to suck them clean.
Bucky stared, unable to form words.
"Cat got your tongue, cowboy?" She asked, a coy smile on her glistenting lips.
"Fuck," he awed breathlessly. "I just love you." He whispered, lowering himself onto her once again, this time striking his tongue into her core.
-
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callsign-datura · 2 months ago
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a/n: y'all not a word. just literal ghost!simon for those who like this trope <3 tags: cunnilingus, ghost sex, ghost simon. yeah he's a literal ghost and eats you out.
ghost!simon riley. ghost that died, and is now a ghost. you were his wife-- so he haunts your new home. ghost!simon that scares away the men you try to hook up with after he dies. breaking things near them, flickering the lights whenever they're alone. you're his, not theirs. in life and in death, his. of course he's going to make them piss their pants before you can fuck them. he doesn't blame you, though. he blames them.
ghost!simon who can pass through walls and objects at will and touch them, too. so, when he finds out he can touch you? best bet he does.
ghost!simon whose main hobby in the afterlife is watching you. other ghosts may cause trouble... but he's not that type. he wants to watch his gorgeous wife, all the time, no matter what she's doing. ghost!simon who's a little too eager to watch you possibly touch yourself when you get horny. it's been years at this point, and he knows you- your tells. the way your thighs started to rub together as you laid in bed, tossing and turning.
ghost!simon who gets the idea to try and let you know he's there... watching. "bird," he mumbles. he knows you can't hear him, but he'll talk to you anyway. "so pretty." he brings a hand to your leg, dragging it upward gently-- testingly. he's surprised that he can touch you at all, so he continues. ghost!simon who leans down to kiss your arm. ghost!simon who recognizes the way your body freezes at the contact. who snickers when you curse about it. you know it's him... you know you're haunted by him in the back of your mind, even if you're in denial. --- "simon?" you whisper, sitting up. you know in your logical brain that this isn't happening-- you're just imagining it. but when the bedlight lamp flickers twice, your heart sinks and your stomach flutters. "...s'that you?" you ask, and the lights flicker twice once more. you feel more fleeting touches along the outer sides of your legs, and suddenly the bed dips at your feet. you feel something nudging your legs apart, and you curse yourself at how easily you follow suit and spread your legs. you're not the spiritual type... this can't be happening. maybe you're dreaming? maybe you're already asleep?
--- ghost!simon who moves between your legs and leans down, kissing your leg just above the knee. his hands move up to the waistband of your pants, and he tugs lazily. sure, he's been a ghost for a while-- but it takes ghost energy to move things! you should do it for him. and he hums when you do, watching the way your hips shift as you pull them down, panties following. you know it's him, and that makes him smug. even after all this time you haven't forgotten his touch. his love. he moves and lays down, and the bed dips further beneath him. his weight, still tangible somehow even in the ghost plane, or whatever the fuck it's called. ---
you're questioning if you've gone crazy. you feel hands move up your legs yet again, stopping at your hips as you feel a few kisses at your hip bone. your head falls back and your chest swells. you shut your eyes and try to ignore the fact that simon always kissed you there before he went down on you. more proof that this was him. ---
he can't taste you. all of his senses are gone now, but at least he can feel you and at least you know it's him. his tongue darts out, leaving over the flesh at your hip before he nibbles there. he can use most functions of his body, some at will, others are just defunct. saliva is one that he still has. why? he has no idea. it's not like he can eat in the afterlife.
...well, not actual food, at least. ---
your eyes flutter. it's an odd sensation. you feel him kiss closer to your cunt, and you've fully succumbed to the feeling. your chest swells more and you feel countless emotions-- you knew he was with you, in one way or another. feeling his touch, his kisses. it almost makes you cry. you suck in a breath and lift your hips, and you feel vibration against your flesh, as if he laughed at you. you just wish you could hear it... see his face between your legs... the feeling is enough.
---
his tongue dips out again, moving between your folds, flattening against your clit. his hands find the bottom of your thighs, gently hoisting them up to give him better access as he tilts his head, swirling his tongue in slow circles like he always did. two slow swirls, four quick flicks. he knew how quickly it got you to cum when he was alive. he hopes it's still the same.
---
your hips twitch, and your back arches, soft sweet moans falling from your lips. the friction is odd, but lord if it isn't intense, your pent up body relishing the feeling of whatever the fuck this is. if you were doubting that it was simon before, you fucking knew it was now. you whimper and your hips buck, a heat swirling in your lower stomach. you feel another vibration against you and your clit twitches, another whine leaving your throat.
---
he's never forgotten you or your body. he's never forgotten the memories he had when he was alive, and even though he can't taste you now he remembers it. sickeningly sweet, he remembers. like honey. "pretty pussy," he grumbles, more to himself since he knows you can't hear it. his tongue flicks against your clit again, relishing in the way it makes your back arch and your hole clench. neglected. he knows you haven't had any since he died. dammit he's made SURE you haven't. of course he can only control things within the bounds of this home, but he knows you prefer having sex in your home-- where you can control things. the setting, the ambiance. one thing he loved. you always controlled all of that, and all he had to do was love you. and if he knew anything, it was how to love you. he decides now to just use his tongue. he didn't want to overwhelm you.
---
you were already overwhelmed. your clit twitched again with each flick, your back arching further and your legs twitching as you got closer to your orgasm. you know, you never thought it was possible to get eaten out by a ghost, but here you were.
---
you mumble his name, and he's done for. his pace increases suddenly, and he grunts to himself at the way your body writhes beneath him. his grip on your thighs tightens, and he pins them down to keep you in place, opting to flick his tongue against your clit to just get you to the edge. when you start whimpering and wailing, he slows down-- smirking when you whimper at the loss. he keeps doing that for a few moments before speeding up again, flicking his tongue against your clit and swirling it at the same time, squeezing your thighs once or twice. ---
you fold your hand over your mouth, head falling back against the pillow beneath your head. you cum seconds after he speeds up again, gasping and writhing still. it comes over you in waves, vision dotted and mind hazy with pleasure. your orgasm ebbs, and his movements slow until you're panting. you barely notice when he detaches himself from you, the bed dipping a bit more as he leans over you and kisses your head. "still as pretty as ever. haven't changed a bit, my wife." --- ghost!simon who breaks all rules of the afterlife to get between his pretty wife's legs again.
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prongsx · 3 months ago
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Lazy Sundays
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warning: fluff, f!reader, Jason being a cute guy. English its not my first language. established relationship.
Jason had always been an alert person. It was tiring, but he couldn't help it. Life forced him to never rest.
It started when he was still young, he had to be alert so he wouldn't die in the alley of crime, if he made a false move he could end up in a web of crimes and murders. He had to be alert to keep his own mother from self-destruction, had to be constantly checking her breathing, if she had eaten, if she hadn't used her subsistence money for drugs. He learned that being a heavy sleeper was dangerous when his house was shot at and he had to hide under the table, eyes full of tears.
Then Bruce adopted him, but he had already lost part of his ability to be a child, never carefree. And now he had the burden of showing Bruce that he was good enough, that he wasn't wasting his time training a boy with too many emotions. Always alert. He had too many emotions, he knew that. His love was wide and deep, but so was his anger. His sadness was like sharp claws scratching his skin from the inside out. He needed to stay alert to keep his emotions in check, because they could consume him.
Being Robin kept him alert, he needed to take care of himself and Batman's back. Even Dick, who had years of training, found Jason too vigilant, his eyes never seemed genuinely relaxed and Dick found out the hard way. He went to play a prank on Jason, waking him up in the middle of the night, but the boy reacted in the worst way and before Dick could react, there was a knife pressed against his neck.
When Jason died and came back with Red Hood, his sense of survival became stronger. There were too many people wanting to kill him, the anti-hero had twice as many enemies, sleeping in peace was not an option. He had so many knives and hidden weapons that he would get scared when he went to brush his teeth and found an AK 47 in the bathroom cabinet. He needed to be like that to survive.
Then he met you. And his knees got weak, his heart raced faster than when he had a gun pointed straight at the vigilante's heart. After much difficulty, you started dating, even though Jason warned you that dating him was a death sentence.
You didn't listen to his warnings, forcing him to stop self-deprecating and start acting like a functional adult (as much as possible) to be in a relationship. Jason was right, he was too busy with his double life. He almost never relaxed, worried about taking care of you and protecting you from his enemies.
After a few fights, you decided that for the relationship to work, you would have at least one day a week to be lazy. You started it: Sunday morning. You needed to know that at least one day a week you would have Jason completely. It was hard to live with the distance his night shift required. So he committed to keeping up this new tradition.
"I'm hungry," Jason just mumbled in response to your plea. It was 10 am on a Sunday morning and neither of you were willing to get up, just like you forced them to. Your legs were intertwined, a thin sheet covering you, Jason's hands holding you tightly against him, his soft lips against your shoulder. The sun was coming in through the curtains, Gotham seemed silent, the only noise that mattered to you was each other's breathing.
"The bakery should be delivering by now," Jason replied, sighing contentedly as you drew patterns on his arm. One of the rules of Sunday morning was to make no effort, even cooking. You knew Jason liked to cook and take care of you, but at least one day a week you allowed yourself the luxury of eating ready-made food.
"It should be at the door by now," you mumble, finally opening your eyes and finding your boyfriend's beautiful face. Jason imitated your action, his sapphire eyes seemed clouded with sleep, which pleased you. Yesterday you had gone out to dinner and stayed up late watching movies and kissing on the couch, which explained how tired they both were.
"Let's get it then," Jason's voice was still hoarse, his black hair cutely messy. He let out a groan of complaint when you pulled away from him to get up, causing you to laugh.
As soon as you established lazy Sunday, it was as if a switch had turned in Jason's head. It was impressive to admire how beautiful Jason looked relaxed, his shoulders without all that tension, his features less marked and even his scars relaxed.
Peace would suit Jason, you thought.
The two of you shuffled into the kitchen, talking in whispers, your hands never leaving each other. Jason walked close behind you, his large hands holding your hips close to his body.
Your boyfriend had a silly smile on his lips, the joy of being with you leaving him on cloud nine. He noticed how beautiful you looked in your sweat shorts and with his shirt, you smelled of comfort and love.
"So, our only commitment is to have coffee and kisses at the counter, right?" Jason hummed, a huge smile on his lips, the sun seemed brighter. Then clouds appeared in the glorious sky of the lazy Sunday.
The clouds came in the shapes of three known people invading your window, the largest of them smiling happily. You thought Jason was really sleepy and relaxed, because he didn't even raise a gun towards the intruders, which was customary.
"Good morning, couple." Dick Grayson greeted, closing the window when Damian entered last. You raised an eyebrow, while Jason gave a slight growl behind you. Your hands came up to lightly stroke his hair, urging him to stay calm, he relaxed into your touch, your lazy Sunday Jason returning.
"Okay, Todd, we got some information from that case we were working on." Damian said, being the rude little punk that he is, throwing work papers on their kitchen table. Tim Drake followed suit, leaning against their counter, where Jason planned to kiss you until you forgot your name.
"Boys," you called out to them, clearing your throat. Three pairs of eyes stared at you. "Today is Sunday."
You sighed when none of them reacted. Damn workaholic sons of Bruce Wayne. Your feet shuffled to the kitchen door to get breakfast, leaving Jason to take care of his brothers.
"Jason, we need those other documents you saved." Dick said, sitting down next to Damian. Jason let out a long sigh, he still felt numb from being in bed with you. He wouldn't let his brothers ruin his favorite day of the week.
"Can we fix this tomorrow?" The three brothers stared at Jason, their eyes equally wide. The fearsome red hood's posture was so relaxed, his pajama top slightly torn and loose. His hips leaned on the counter and his blue eyes seemed clearer, almost serene. His hair really looked like a mess, the white lock falling over his forehead in a cute sort of way.
"Jason, did you hear us? It's the case you've been working on for months." Tim said, still looking perplexed. Jason sighed, his features still marked by prolonged sleep.
"Yeah, yeah. So?" He grumbled, a smile appearing on his lips when you came back with the breakfast bag. Handing him a cup and pouring coffee. He whispered a quick, "Thank you, honey."
Damian was the first to recover from the shock, his hands holding a particularly suspicious photo that would solve half of Jason's case.
"Todd, big drug case! You spent months bugging everyone for clues."
Jason just shrugged, sipping his coffee and resting his face on your shoulder, humming with joy.
"One day more, one day less."You could have laughed at how Dick looked like he had been slapped in the face. Your heart was bursting with pride for your boyfriend, who had finally learned the meaning of being at peace and lazy.
"Who are you and what have you done with little wing?" Dick said, blinking those big blue eyes slowly.
You turned your back on the little argument again, not wanting to interfere in the family dynamics, busying yourself with taking your breakfast out of the bag from your favorite bakery.
"Take those papers off the table, let's have breakfast." Jason replied with just that, making Tim's eyes pop out. He looked like a different Jason, without his characteristic sarcastic smile or the tense shoulders.
"Todd, we need to figure this out!"
"Jason, it won't take long..."
Jason let out a louder sigh now, leaving the Wonder Woman mug in the corner and turning to his brothers, his tone of voice still soft compared to normal. "Today is Sunday." He repeated, pinching his nose slightly to keep his temper from rising. "I'm staying with my girlfriend. I'll figure this out with you guys tomorrow."
He turned to you, almost as if he expected to receive a proud smile, and he got one. Damian let out a snort.
"Todd, be a man for once in your life and stand up for yourself."
"He's too tangled up in the leash." Tim joined in the provocation, unable to contain himself.
"Wrong choice of words, boys," you whispered, knowing what was coming next.
The three of them were startled when Jason's hand slammed on the table they were at.
"I'm only going to say this once. It's Sunday morning. If you little shits are unhappy and girlfriendless, that's your problem. Either you're going to leave now with these papers or I'm going to use the gun I have hidden behind the fridge."
Jason's blue eyes were that darker shade that screamed: danger! It didn't take much more, the three guards took the papers and left muttering, you heard a few words that sounded like "this will come back, Todd" and "I'll tell him where he can stick that gun."
You turned to Jason, your hands going to his tense shoulders.
"Honey, it's okay, I'll accept if you want to help them."
He let out a snort, pulling you against his chest, smoothing the skin under your shirt.
"No. It's our lazy Sunday."You smiled, ridiculously content, pulling him into a lazy kiss.
"Speaking of which, gun behind the fridge?"
He distracted you with a kiss at the base of your neck, a small chuckle leaving his lips. Bastard.
It was a good lazy Sunday.
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ilguna · 1 year ago
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Hey! Can I get the number 89 (in honour of 1989 tv) with finnick ?
☼ lovestruck, lovesick, lovelorn pt1 (Finnick Odair) ☼
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warnings; swearing, death mention, death, gore for sure, blood, weapon usage, mention of prostitution.
wc; 8.6k
prompt; 86. "Do you trust her?" // "No, but I trust her anger."
notes; i already did 89 for Peeta (castaway) and i'm trying not to do any repeats, so we're going with 86 :)
part two, part three.
--
The golden Cornucopia sits abandoned in the middle of this black sand island, whereas normally it’s occupied by the Careers to ensure that no intruders steal from them. There must not be anything worth protecting in here, then, besides the weapons that are displayed.
This allows the group to spread out, picking places to rest in the shade. Peeta lowers Beetee to the ground, propping him up against a box. He backs off, going to stand next to Katniss.
Beetee calls out to Wiress, making her go over to him. She crouches down, hands on her knees, waiting. In her limited state of mind, you’re fairly surprised that she’s still comprehending people, much less requests. He holds up his coil of wire, she takes it. “Clean it, will you?” 
Wiress nods, wordlessly getting to her feet and going to sit on the edge of the island to clean the spool of blood. She dunks it in the water, occasionally using her fingers to rub a particularly hard spot. While she does this, she begins to sing, no longer repeating the words ‘tick tock’.
It must be some sort of nursery rhyme from District Three, because you don’t recognize it. It’s about a mouse running up and down a clock, which is fairly appropriate, given the recent discovery, thanks to her.
“Oh, not the song again.” Johanna says, rolling her brown eyes. “That went on for hours before she started tick-tocking.”
Wiress stops suddenly, getting to her feet, posture rigid as she points to the jungle and says, “Two.”
The rest of you watch as a white wave of fog begins to seep onto the beach. From here, it doesn't seem so threatening. You probably wouldn’t think twice about it, if you hadn’t run for your life from it early this morning. While it melted your jumpsuit and poisoned your skin, causing you to strip to your under clothes and for your body to be covered in scabs from where it touched you.
You’d rather fight the orange monkey muttations a hundred times than risk doing that again.
“Yes, look, Wiress is right. It’s two o’clock and the fog has started.” Katniss says.
“LIke clockwork.” Peeta agrees. “You were very smart to figure that out, Wiress.”
Wiress smiles, and then kneels in the sand to continue singing and dunking the coil in water. “Oh, she’s more than smart.” Beetee says from beside you. Your eyes slide over to him. “She’s intuitive. She can sense things before anyone else. Like a canary in one of your coal mines.”
“What’s that?” Finnick asks Katniss.
“It’s a bird that we take down into the mines to warn us if there’s bad air.” She says.
“What’s it do, die?” Johanna scoffs.
“It stops singing first. That’s when you should get out. But if the air’s too bad, it dies, yes. And so do you.” Katniss ends that line of conversation, turning to go inside of the Cornucopia.
Johanna goes in after her to poke around in the weapons, since she’s been empty handed the entire time. Funny how Beetee was able to make it to the Cornucopia before she did, even if it ended up getting him hurt because of it.
You briefly glance at Finnick from where you were watching Johanna, and you have to do a double-take when you realize that he’s staring at you. He looks you over, up and down, which would be flattering, if you didn’t know that he was assessing your demeanor, deciding if you were a threat.
You squint at him, face twisting. “What?”
“Nothing.” He tells you.
“It’s not nothing if you’re looking at me like that.” You snap. “Leave me alone.”
He shakes his head, but doesn’t say anything back. You’re getting tired of him thinking that you’re going to betray the alliance. You’re in this as much as he is, you volunteered to be here. If anything, he should be a little grateful that he got a district partner that’s invested and capable.
He doesn’t see it that way, though. He thinks that you’re just as bad as Enobaria and Brutus—that you’re itching to get back into an arena to kill for some spotlight. And you know this, because he told you himself on the train. Once you were out of sight of the cameras, he tried to lay you out in front of Mags and the escort, and you shut him down.
You know he disagrees with the way you choose to handle situations, but to think that you would get in the way of a rebellion was a slap to the face. You made sure he knew that later on, when you were out of earshot of the Peacekeepers. If he wanted to think of you so lowly, fine. The line is drawn when he begins to implant those ideas in other people’s heads, too. Especially since you’ve done nothing to deserve it.
It didn’t matter to him. In fact, he tried to block you from being invited into the alliance by telling Haymitch that you could fuck the whole plan if your mood changes. He said all it would take is one disagreement, one thing not going the way you wanted, one wrong look, and you’d make sure that everyone else would be brought down by it.
Thankfully, Haymitch knows better than to just take Finnick’s word for it. He might be a drunk, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t paying attention for the past ten years. He knows that you and Finnick have a history of not getting along. If anything, you’ll sabotage Finnick more than you will the alliance as a whole.
Which is why he told you that you have a place in it, if you want. And while everyone else places stepping stones to make sure that the plan to get rescued is in place. You were told that you have two jobs; the first one being protecting Katniss and Peeta, a task that you were already prepared to risk your life for. As for the second one—if anything were to go wrong, if someone unexpected were to get killed, you’ll replace their shoes, and get Katniss and Peeta to the end of the day at all costs.
This is why you’ve been on edge. If Finnick would see past his hatred for you, and thought about it, he’d realize that you’re trying to make sure that Katniss and Peeta are in good positions. You are not the threat here.
Johanna lets out a grunt, you turn your head in time to watch as she throws an axe through the air, straight at the Cornucopia. It hits the sun-softened gold with a gentle thud, and it sticks. She crosses the area, pulling it out by the handle, making a face at the blade.
Katniss is digging through the weapons, probably looking for more arrows to add to her collection, because two sheaths aren’t enough. When she finds one, she swings it over her back and comes out to stand over Peeta, who’s drawing a map of the arena onto a large leaf that he brought from the jungle. He slices the circle, creating twelve equal wedges.
“Look how the Cornucopia is positioned.” He says, looking up at her.
Her eyebrows draw in, and she turns around to take a look at the building she just came out of. “The tail points to twelve o’clock.”
“Right, so this is the top of our clock.” He says, numbering the wedges one through twelve. “Twelve to one is the lightning zone.” He proceeds to write lightning in the wedge, and then goes clockwise, adding blood, fog, and monkeys in the next sections.
“And ten to eleven is the wave.” She says, he writes it down. 
Finnick comes over with Johanna, the two of them have upped the weapon count on their bodies. And he thinks you’re the dangerous one, as if you don’t have a sword and a couple knives on you. Does he really need two tridents and half a dozen knives? It makes him look…
Hot, a voice whispers from the depth of your mind, It makes him look hot.
He’s standing in a patch of sun, where the Cornucopia doesn’t quite reach. The sunbeams baking his already tanned skin. His eyes are a brighter shade of sea green, with the light being in his eyes. He looks like he belongs at the bottom of the ocean, commanding the creatures that dwell in it.
He must feel your eyes on him, because he flickers over to yours. You stare for a second longer, before blinking and looking away, back at the map that’s being drawn. 
It’s a shame that Finnick decided years back that he would rather keep you at a distance instead of making a friend out of you. The two of you are so similar that it hurts at times, but all he can see are the differences, which hurts more.
The both of you won at young ages, with him setting the record, while you won at fifteen. He had an advantage in his Games, though, because the sponsors were drawn in by his good looks for being someone so young. This meant that he had everything he could have ever asked for gifted to him in the arena.
On the other hand, you didn’t make much of an impression during your reaping or the Tribute Parade, forcing you to change the strategy that you’d been given by Finnick and Mags. They wanted you to keep your head down, but if you wanted even a sliver of a chance, you needed to make your name big.
So, that’s exactly what you did. And that’s where the resentment he has for you, started. You showed off absolutely all your skills in the Training Center, making sure the Gamemakers knew you had potential, getting you a score of nine. During your interviews, you told Caesar that there wasn’t a single hurdle you wouldn’t jump to get home.
That statement was put to the test in the arena, when you killed several tributes, including your own district partner, because you knew it put you one step closer to getting out. You didn’t care what bridges you had to burn, how many sponsors you had to lose, or if you lost the support of your mentors. Nothing could stop you, and it didn’t.
Finnick hates that you had no remorse when you got out of the arena. Or now, because you told him that this is the hill you’ve chosen to die on, because between life and death, you choose life. He can’t wrap his head around the fact you’re so cold. How could the two of you be from the same district?
The similarities came back into play when you turned sixteen, when the Capitol realized that they do care about you. Which changed your title from victor to Capitol darling. You were told to join Finnick and be a prostitute, or President Snow would kill your family. 
This is where you screwed up, believing him to be bluffing. You didn’t think he would actually do it, but he’s a man of his word. When you were done listening to the screams and pleas of your parents to spare your siblings, Snow told you that if you didn’t agree, Finnick’s family would be next.
You had no choice, you had to agree. And when Finnick found out that you landed right where he was, there wasn’t a single shred of empathy he had toward you. Not even after you returned to District Four, and he learned that your family had been murdered in your home. The one you’d be forced to stay in for an additional two weeks while they got your victor house ready.
If you weren’t indifferent to his existence before, you sure as hell were then.
“Did you notice anything unusual in the others?” Katniss asks Johanna and Beetee, referring to the wedges. 
“Only blood.” Johanna says, Beetee nods.
“I guess they could hold anything.” Katniss looks down at Peeta.
“I’m going to mark the ones where we know the Gamemakers’ weapon follows us out past the jungle, so we’ll stay clear of those.” Peeta says, drawing diagonal lines on the fog and wave beaches. He then sits back. “Well, it’s a lot more than we knew this morning, anyway.”
You look up, going to check on Wiress, since she’s gone quiet. Your eyes find Gloss, water dripping from his bare skin, knife sliding across the skin on her throat. It’s too late to save her, you know this when the blood begins to come down her neck like a waterfall.
The knife on your belt is in your hand and flying through the air in the matter of seconds. It’s headed right for Gloss, and when the blade lodges in the center of his forehead, it throws him back. This kills him instantly.
A movement out of the corner of your eye makes you turn your head, hand reaching for the knife that’s lined up next, but Johanna’s on it. She buries her axe in the center of Cashmere’s chest, eliminating her.
Three cannons blast, back to back.
Finnick swings his trident upward, deflecting a spear that had been aiming for Peeta, thrown by Brutus. Finnick goes to twist his body to take the knife that Enobaria throws at Beetee, but he misses by an inch. It’s too late for you to save Beetee, as the knife shatters the lens on the right side, and the blade buries itself in his eye socket.
Fuck.
Another cannon blasts.
You shove Finnick out of the way to chase after Enobaria and Brutus, who are making their escape around the backside of the Cornucopia. They’ve successfully killed two of your most important allies, and they don’t even realize it.
The two Careers are running down one of the sand strips to the beach. You manage to throw one more knife at Brutus before he’s out of range. It slams into his right calf, taking him down. He lands on his hands and knees, which is exactly what you were hoping for.
Right as you’re about to step onto the strip, the ground beneath you jerks, throwing you down. The center island of the Cornucopia begins to spin, fast. You press your sword between your body and the ground, digging your fingers into the grooves to hold on. 
It’s only thirty seconds later when it slams to a stop without warning. 
You squeeze your eyes shut, taking measured breaths to calm the growing annoyance in your chest. The Gamemakers knew you would kill Brutus, and later Enobaria, if you caught up with her. That’s why they had to intervene, otherwise the fun of the Games would be gone.
You slam your fist against the rock, pushing yourself to your knees. You lean back on your heels slightly, face to the sun while you collect yourself. With Wiress and Beetee being gone, this is a very large hiccup that you’re going to have to smooth out. You jinxed yourself, didn’t you?
A sigh leaves you as you get to your feet, swinging the sword into your hand. As you round the corner, you can see that everyone else is upright. Finnick looks over at you, eyebrows raised, waiting for good news, because you were the closest to the Two tributes.
“Brutus is injured. I would’ve had him if the fuckin’ Gamemakers had minded their own business.” You stab the tip of the sword into a patch of sand.
“Where’s Volts?” Johanna asks, looking around the group.
“He’s dead.” You tell her.
She meets your eyes, “What happened?”
“I—” Finnick starts.
“I didn’t block the knife in time.” You talk over him. “Enobaria’s got a strong arm, it went right through his glasses.”
You can see Finnick staring at you from the corner of your eye. You lick your lips, tasting the salt of the water, before pressing them together. When you look at him, the two of you stare for a long second.
You, Johanna and Finnick know what this means. If just one of the Three tributes had been killed, you could’ve used the other. With both of them being gone, it means that someone needs to pick up their job, and you were the one that was elected to do just that.
“What now?” Finnick asks you.
You tilt your head, eyes going out to the water, finding two of the four bodies. It’s got to be Wiress and Gloss, because they’d been right next to each other when they died. You lean your sword up against the Cornucopia before wandering forward, to the edge of the island.
Wiress is floating on her back, on her stomach sits the spool of wire, golden and shining in the sunlight. You begin to head down the sand strip closest to her body. “I want the wire.”
“What for?” Johanna asks, “That was his weapon, not yours.”
You look over your shoulder. “It has to be now, doesn’t it?”
Johanna makes a face, but it’s not one of doubt. She knows that you’re right, that’s why she won’t bother to argue. Not that she would, anyway. You and Johanna get along, basically two peas in the same pod. She just likes Finnick more, because he puts up with her bullshit.
You jog as close as you can get to Wiress’s body, before diving in the warm water. It’s a nice break from the sun, even if it is for a minute. It doesn’t take long to get to her body, prying the coil from her fingers. You’re about to swim away, when you hesitate, closing her eyes.
Finnick is waiting for you on the strip when you get back to it. You place the wire on the rock, and he reaches down to help you up. Your face twists, but you take his hand, letting him help. The moment you’re on both feet, he pulls you close, a rough hand on your shoulder as he pulls you close to speak in your ear.
“If you can’t do this, you need to tell me. I’ll figure something else out.” Finnick harshly whispers.
You jerk back, squinting at him. “Worry about yourself.” 
As you stoop to grab the wire, Finnick shakes his head. “I mean it, (Y/n).”
“And so do I.” You tell him, lowering your voice. “There’s a reason why Haymitch trusted me with this, and not you.”
He raises his eyebrows, “We’re back to this, huh?”
You scoff loudly. “You’re the one that’s upset by it, Finnick. So, here’s a fucking suggestion: deal with it.” You shake your head. “You’re so worried that I’m going to betray the alliance, that’s you’re forgetting that this is what I do.” You motion to the jungle with your free hand. “Enobaria and Brutus can run all they want, but we both know they’re going to have to come out eventually if they plan on finishing us off. And when they do, they’re going to get it.
“Not from you, not from Johanna, from me.” You seethe, moving around Finnick to head back up to the Cornucopia. You throw your hands up, one of them still holding the wire. “Face it, Finnick, I’ve got this handled.”
You turn around, finding that your three other allies have their eyes on you. You ignore them, watching where you place your feet. On the island, you retrieve your sword, dropping the wire onto a box. Finnick is a few feet behind you, wearing a hard expression.
You hate it when you have to talk to him like that, but you can’t do it any other way if you want him to listen to you. It’s like he doesn’t care unless you’re being hostile, except that tone of voice has him on edge, afraid that you’re going to flip a switch.
There is no happy medium. It’s like he’s dead-set on thinking that you’re an unlikable person. You wouldn’t have minded having an actual conversation between you, Finnick and Johanna to figure out a plan together. It’s his fault that he decided to take the situation into his own hands by assuming that you wouldn’t have the ability to fill Beetee’s shoes.
It makes you mad, so now you’re going to take care of it by yourself. As much as he wants you to ask for help, you’ll do everything in your power to make sure you don’t need him. Or the others, for that matter.
“Let’s get off this stinking island.” Johanna says once Finnick has joined the group.
You dig through the weapons in the Cornucopia, looking for a pair of knives that aren’t too short. The only ones that are available are displayed on the wall in the very back. They’re slightly curved, not too heavy. They’ll work just fine.
You watch as Peeta, Finnick and Johanna start in three different directions.
You stand next to Katniss, watching this. When they realize that no one is following them, they stop.
“Twelve o’clock, right?” Peeta asks. “The tail points at twelve.”
“Before they spun us.” Finnick says. “I was judging by the sun.”
“The sun only tells you it’s going on four, Finnick.” Katniss tells him. “Any one of these paths could lead to twelve o’clock.”
You tuck the knives in your belt, as you circle the Cornucopia with them to try and find the path that’ll lead to the twelve beach. Only, the jungle is perfectly replicated in every section, down to the last tree. Johanna suggests following Enobaria and Brutus’s path, but it’s been washed away.
Katniss stops. “I should have never mentioned the clock. Now they’ve taken that advantage away as well.”
“For now.” You murmur. “We still have the wave at ten to tell us, we’ll be back on track after that.”
“Yes, they can’t redesign the whole arena.” Peeta says.
“It doesn’t matter.” Johanna’s growing impatient, wanting to move. “You had to tell us or we never would have moved our camp in the first place, brainless. Come on, I need water. Anyone have a good gut feeling?”
You let them decide which strip to take to the beach. Katniss and Peeta begin to lead the way. You grab the wire, motioning for Johanna and Finnick to go next, but they don’t budge. You roll your eyes and duck your head, putting a good distance between you and Peeta before you walk.
“What’s the plan?” Johanna’s voice sounds far, and she’s trying to be quiet, but there’s not enough going on for it to conceal her.
“She says she’ll handle it.” Finnick murmurs, you can’t tell if he’s mad or not.
“That’s it?” She asks, “It looked like she was yelling at you.”
“She did.” He says. “She told me to worry about myself, and she’ll handle Enobaria and Brutus.”
Johanna doesn’t speak right away. “Do you trust her?”
“No, but I trust her anger.” He tells her. “She’s right, this is what she does best.”
“So, you want to follow behind her?”
“Do you have any other ideas?” Finnick shoots back.
“No.” Johanna sighs.
When you get to the jungle, they look inside of it, trying to figure out if there’s anything waiting inside or not. When you can’t see any immediate threats, they relax.
“Well, it must be monkey hour. And I don’t see any of them in there.” Peeta says. “I’m going to try to tap a tree.”
“No, it’s my turn.” Finnick objects. “I’ll at least watch your back.”
“Katniss can do that.” Johanna says. “We need you to make another map. The other washed away.” She reaches up, yanking off a large leaf to hand to him. “(Y/n) can stay with us, while she figures out what to do with the wire.”
You drop it in the sand, along with your sword, as you sit down. Peeta crouches beside you, beginning to make his map, again. As you watch him draw the slices, your mind begins to wander. 
Katniss and Peeta are the Careers’ focus. They want to target the ones with the highest scores first, and then work their way down. If they take out a few of you in the process, then that’s great, but they’re afraid of what the Twelve tributes could’ve possibly done in order to get a perfect score.
It was a little odd for Gloss to go for Wiress, if this is the case. And Cashmere wasn’t able to kill anybody before she died. You guess she might have been going for Katniss, but Johanna was in between them, she wasn’t going to make it that far. That’s why Brutus tried to get Peeta with the spear, and maybe the knife was originally aimed for Peeta, not Beetee?
You just can’t wrap your head around their strategy of getting rid of the Three tributes. Were Enobaria and Brutus that worried about you guys coming up with a plan to use the explosives on the tribute platforms? It wouldn’t be the first time it happened in the Games, it’s just a stupid idea to do it in the water, when you have nothing to steady yourself on.
Either way, you need to figure out a way to draw them in. If there’s anything you know for sure, it’s that they’ll wait until dark to attack again, because they’ll have cover. It’s only the two of them now, which means they won’t attack the five of you all together, they’ll get overpowered in seconds. They’ll wait until you split up.
You play with the wire, twisting it between your fingers while you think.
If they send another twenty-four rolls from District Three tonight, you’ll have no choice but to go into the jungle for the lightning section, because that’s where they’ll be rescuing you out of the arena. You would just say that you should go up to the lightning tree and wait, except you won’t know what time it is until ten, like you said.
When the wave does it, you’ll have two hours to get to the tree. After that, Katniss and Peeta will have to get split up long enough to get the tracker out of their arms. That’ll be the perfect time to kill Enobaria and Brutus, too.
You just need a reason for them to split up. Johanna’s already agreed to getting it out of Katniss’s arm, which left Peeta for Finnick. You need some sort of placebo plan in the meantime, something for them to focus on to keep their minds off of the fact that the situation is going to be very, very suspicious.
“That’s it.” Peeta says, sitting back. “I don’t—”
A scream cuts through the still air, silencing him. You whip around to look back at the jungle, unsure of whether or not it belongs to Katniss. As you get to your feet, sword in your hand, you can hear another voice, shouting back. That one sounds like Katniss.
“What’s happening?” Peeta asks.
You get to your feet before he does, pulling the sword into your hand as you break through the jungle, swinging at any leaves in your way. “I think we chose the wrong section.”
“It’s supposed to be the monkey mutts right now, how can it be anything else?” Peeta asks.
Your face twists as you look over your shoulder, finding that Johanna’s eyes have rolled back as far as she can get them. “Because it’s the next hour?” She snarks.
Peeta doesn’t respond. For a moment, you’re genuinely concerned that the forcefield on the first day might have fried his brain a lot more than you thought. When you begin to think of all the decisions he’s made over these past couple of days, you relax. It’s not really out of his nature to say something stupid once in a while.
You’re about twenty yards into the jungle when you stop suddenly, sword at your side, eyes scanning the trees above. When Johanna and Peeta finally pause, you realize just how quiet it is out here.
Johanna takes a step or two forward, coming to stand next to you, looking up at the tree branches. She covers her eyes with one hand, squinting. “There’s no birds.”
“Exactly what I was thinking.” You tell her, your normal voice feels too loud. “There’s not even insects.”
“What are you thinking?” She asks, looking at you.
“I feel like it’s too early to be the beast, because the sun was down further yesterday.” 
She nods. “A new hour.”
“That doesn’t explain why it’s so quiet.” Peeta says.
“Could be something in the trees.” You tell him, turning your body to face him. “That’s why I don’t want to go further in.”
“But Katniss and Finnick are in there.” Peeta shakes his head. “We have to.”
“Don’t you think they would’ve called for help by now?” You ask, “We heard Katniss say something, but then she stopped.”
“And they can’t be dead because there’s no cannon.” Johanna says after. “What if they’re hurt?”
You look further into the jungle. “It’s a bad idea.”
“We have to try.” Peeta says, starting toward the two of you.
You move in time to let him pass without running into your shoulder. He makes it an additional five yards before he walks smack into a wall, head bouncing off. A little smile fights its way onto your face, and then it vanishes when you realize that this is exactly what happened when he hit the forcefield.
He reaches out, going to touch it. You stride forward, grabbing the back of the neck of his undershirt, yanking him back. “Are you stupid?”
“Wait.” He swats your hand free. “Watch.”
You grab his wrist when he holds his hand out again, causing him to look at you with wide eyes. “I’m not taking any chances with you.”
“Then do it yourself.” Peeta motions, you let go. “It would’ve blown me back if it was a forcefield. Besides, it’s too far down.”
You look at space in front of you, seemingly fine. The wall that he’d run into isn’t even visible. You take in a breath, holding it, before sticking your hand out in the direction of it.
The palm of your hand vibrates against it, you apply pressure, wondering if it’ll budge if you lean into it, but it doesn’t move. You look down at your sword, pressing your lips together. If this is a forcefield, this will most definitely kill you. Still, you swing the sword into the invisible wall, and you’re pleasantly surprised when it doesn’t explode into sparks upon contact.
“Well…” You trail off, beginning to walk around the wall, keeping one hand on it. No matter where you touch, or how far along you walk, the wall doesn’t stop. You make it into the next section of the jungle, and around the corner, and still feel it there. When you make it back to Johanna and Peeta, you shake your head. “Sealed.”
“They’re inside?” Peeta asks. “Do you think they can hear us?”
“I’m going to say no.” Johanna grunts, swinging her axe into the wall repeatedly. “If we can’t hear the birds,” Her voice is strained, “Then we can’t hear them.” She stops, tossing the axe aside, it lands next to a bush. She sighs, “I guess we’re going to wait out here.”
Peeta doesn’t like this idea, you can tell by the way his face screws up, but he knows you don’t have any other choice. 
“I’m going to grab the wire, then.” You tell her.
“Speaking of it, come up with anything yet?” She asks, eyebrows raised.
“Almost.” You say, walking away from her.
When you get to the beach and find the wire, you don’t go back into the jungle right away. You stand beneath a patch of shade, staring at the Cornucopia, and the trees beyond it, squinting.
From what you can tell, Enobaria and Brutus aren’t on the beach or in the treeline, which means that they’re in those trees, somewhere. They must be fairly far in, where they’re resting. They likely won’t come out again until they’ve been sponsored and their wounds are healing. And even then, they’ll make sure you’re not on the beach, first.
Or maybe they are able to see you, and you just can’t see them.
If you were in their shoes, you’d be watching your every move right now to figure out what you’re doing. And if that’s the case, it doesn’t matter what you do with this wire, they’ll already know the plan. Really, it would just be an excuse to split Katniss and Peeta.
So, that’s what it’ll be.
The wire could be used for a number of things, you could probably make a trap out of it. There’s enough of it for you to bring it to the tree and back down to the beach, twice. The question is what Beetee would have used it for.
You close your eyes, listening to the waves on the beach, trying to remember how Beetee won his Games. You were talking to Mags about it the other day, she was telling you that it’s been thirty years since he won. Back then, he wasn’t the strongest tribute either, he had to make something to electrocute the last remaining tributes.
He wouldn’t really be able to do that now. He had the sources—the lightning at midnight and the water at the center. In the condition he was in before he got killed, he wouldn’t have been able to make the trip up to the tree, back down to the water, and up again to be out of the way of the electricity. And the chances of the wire being cut by the Careers isn’t that low, even in your situation now.
You’d need someone at the base of the tree, and someone unspooling the wire down to the water…
Your eyes pop open, it takes them a second to adjust to the sudden light. You stare at the water. This is what Beetee was going to do, wasn’t it? The wire acts as a conductor. If you hook it up to the tree at the right time when it strikes, it’ll fry everything in the water.
But what you want is to kill the Careers, in a way. The sand would have to be wet too, or at least damp. Which… Which will be the exact case when the wave hits at ten, and it’ll be cooler out, so the water won’t evaporate as quickly. If you bury the spool in the sand, it should have the entire beach covered and the water.
“Bingo.” You say, grabbing the coil.
You join the others back inside of the jungle, finding Peeta on the floor, forehead pressed to the invisible wall. Johanna’s pacing back and forth, arms crossed over her chest. When you get closer, you’re able to see that Katniss and Finnick are on the other side, both of them with their hands over their ears.
When a twig snaps beneath your weight, Johanna looks over. She lets out a sigh, shoulders slumping. “What took you so long?”
“Came up with a plan.” You tell her, dropping the wire and your sword next to one of her axes. 
“What plan?” Peeta asks, unmoving.
“On how to kill the remaining Careers.” You wink at Johanna, but it’s not flirtatious.
You know she understands when the crease appears between her eyebrows, giving you a slight nod. “Care to enlighten us?”
“When they’re out, I will. I don’t want to have to repeat myself.” You nod at the other two. “What’s going on in there?”
“I think it’s jabberjays.” Johanna says, pointing up at the trees behind the wall. “They’re fifty of them in the trees. Katniss tried killing them, of course it didn’t work.”
Your eyes land on Finnick, finding his muscles rigid. You crouch to get a better look at his face, there’s a streak of red from his nose, down his lips, and off his chin. “What happened to Finnick?”
“He ran face-first into the wall.” Peeta says. “It was a bloody nose.”
You hum, lowering yourself to the ground. “Hopefully it won’t be much longer.”
The wall suddenly breaks, Peeta falling forward. He catches himself on his hands, getting to his feet. He doesn’t even say anything, just scoops Katniss into his arms, and walks straight out of the jungle with her, leaving the arrows behind.
You sit up, looking over at Johanna to see that she’s staring at you. She tilts her head, “Do you want to try?”
You take in a breath, “I’ll let you know if it works.”
She nods, following after Katniss and Peeta, because someone needs to be watching over them. You get up, walking a few feet over to Finnick, before crouching down beside him. 
You lift a hand, hovering it over his back for a minute, and then change your mind, placing your elbows on your thighs to lean on them. He’s got his eyes closed, head down. He probably can’t even hear you. You don’t even know how he’ll react to being touched, much less by you.
You press your lips together, heart hurting at the sight of him. It’d be better if Johanna were here, she can talk to him. All you’ll do is upset him more. You grind your teeth, once again wishing that this wasn’t your relationship. As you go to stand up, the hands over his ears loosen, head beginning to lift.
He looks around in the jungle first, making sure the threat is gone. That’s when he notices you beside him, waiting. His eyes are watery, he swallows.
“Hey,” You murmur, “Are you okay?”
He stares at you, eyebrows drawing in.
You nod, “I’ll go get Johanna.”
Once again, you try to get to your feet, when he speaks, “Why?”
“Why… what?” You ask, pausing.
“Why would you get Johanna?” He asks.
You turn your head in the direction of the beach. Is he really going to make you say it? Does he want to see the pain it’ll cause you? Or does he think it’ll come out venomous?
When you look at him, you sigh, “Because I’m not really a comforting person to you, am I?”
He doesn’t answer your question, “Where are they?”
“They’re on the beach.” You tell him. “I figured out a plan that’ll work. I’ll tell you guys when you’re ready.”
“Do Johanna and Peeta know?” He asks.
You shake your head, “No.”
Neither of you move, staring at each other. And while you could stay here forever, you don’t allow yourself. You push on your knees, standing up. You offer your hand to him, but he moves it away, just like you figured he would.
He doesn’t say anything, walking past you to leave. You stare at the scene of dead birds in front of you, before you turn around, collecting yours and Johanna’s belongings, and going to join them on the beach. 
Katniss seems better, she’s talking to Peeta. Johanna is standing over them, she glances at Finnick when he passes by. She has to twist her body to see you standing in the treeline. You hand her the axe.
“It was a trick, Katniss. A horrible one. But we’re the only ones who can be hurt by it. We’re the ones in the Games. Not them.” Peeta says.
“You really believe that?” Katniss asks.
“I really do.” 
“Do you believe it, Finnick?” 
“It could be true. I don’t know.” He says, looking up at Johanna, ignoring you entirely. “Could they do that? Take someone’s regular voice and make it…”
Johanna makes a face, looking at you for help. You play with the piece of wire you’d unraveled, “I’m sure Beetee would know.”
“Peeta’s right.” Johanna then says. “The whole country adores Katniss’s little sister. If they really killed her like this, they’d probably have an uprising on her hands.” She deadpans. “Don’t want that, do they?” She scoffs, throwing her head back to shout, “Whole country in rebellion? Wouldn’t want anything like that!”
She shakes her head, wandering around the beach to pick up shells. When she finds a good few, she stops next to Finnick, holding her hand out. “I’m getting water.” Finnick drops the spile into her hand, and she begins toward the jungle.
Katniss grabs her hand. “Don’t go in there. The birds—”
“They can’t hurt me. I’m not like the rest of you. There’s no one left I love.” She says, shaking her hand free. You don’t miss the look she gives Finnick, and then you, as she disappears into the jungle. 
She comes back a couple minutes later with a shell of water, handing it over to Katniss first. She makes trips back and forth, letting each of you have some. She comes out one trip with a pile of arrows that she gives back to Katniss.
Finnick shakes his head, walking to the water. He stops a few feet in, and sits. You let the wire drop to the sand, tired of bringing it wherever you go. You don’t move from where you are, eyes fixated on his back.
“Who did they use against Finnick?” Peeta asks, curious.
Katniss is quiet. You’re expecting her to say Annie, because it makes the most sense, but when you look over, she’s eyeing you, and so is Peeta. 
“What?” You ask. “Was it Annie?”
“No, it wasn’t.” Katniss murmurs. “We thought we heard you.”
A loud laugh comes from you, unwarranted. The thought of Finnick caring about you enough for the Gamemakers to use you against him is funny. Really funny, actually. It must’ve been a walk in the park for him, listening to your pleas. A little gratifying, because he could pretend that you were getting what was coming for you.
But Katniss isn’t laughing, she’s serious. 
The humor leaves your smile, “It must’ve been his mother, that he was mistaken for me.”
“No, because we heard his mom, too. That first scream was yours.” She insists, “And he dropped everything to find you.”
“Finnick would never do that.” You tell her, voice cold. 
She doesn’t press it further, but the look in her eye is enough. She’s not lying to you, she’s telling the truth. She doesn’t gain anything from making something like that up.
You won’t believe it though. This is the same Finnick that told Johanna that he didn’t trust you, an hour and a half ago. There’s nothing that could’ve made him change his feelings in that time span.
Unless it didn’t.
Your eyes narrow at the back of Finnick’s head, hand tightening around your sword. 
A cannon blast keeps you from thinking about the subject any further, but the bubbling in your stomach is only getting hotter. Finnick gets up, coming to join you three, as well as Johanna, materializing out of the jungle. You stand together, watching a hovercraft appear over the next section, claw dipping in several times to retrieve all the pieces of one body. 
The beast.
This sparks Peeta to create another map, this time he’s able to fill in more than half of it. It starts with lightning, rain, and fog. It moves on to monkeys and jabberjays. He has to skip a section, and then writes beast. And the next one you have after six to seven is the wave at ten. This means you’re missing five of the other hours. 
The others begin to come back to life. Finnick begins to weave a water basket and a net to fish for dinner. While Katniss takes a swim and applies more ointment. By the time she’s done, Finnick has worked up a pile, so she sits on the edge of the water, cleaning them for him. 
It doesn’t take long for Katniss’s words to creep back into your mind, refusing to leave it be. Finnick cares about you, a thought that should have you excited, but it makes you uncomfortable. He has spent the last eight years making sure that you know that he hates you and couldn’t care less about what happens to you.
Yet here he is, supposedly dropping everything to save you. Possibly even leaving Katniss behind to do it. The Gamemakers must know something that you don’t, if they knew to use your voice. You want to assume that they thought Finnick was worried solely because you’re his district partner. Except, that doesn’t make sense either, because the two of you are notorious in the Capitol for being a pair of mentors that get into fights about how to handle things.
He has a lot of nerve.
The sun falls below the horizon, the moon rising to replace it in the sky. When they finish cleaning the fish, they bring it over, setting it in the middle of the circle for you to enjoy. The four of them begin to settle in the sand, you don’t move from where you stand.
The anthem begins to play, stopping them from digging in. The Capitol seal lights up the sky, and then it’s replaced by the faces. Cashmere, Gloss, Wiress, Beetee. The woman from Five, the morphling from Six, Blight, and the man from Ten. 
Eight tributes dead.
Strangely, this makes you think of your own Hunger Games. Where you managed to kill four people in the span of two hours, one of those being Rio, who was your district partner. By the end of the Games, you had eight kills under your belt. A third of the competition was taken out by you, a little fifteen year-old.
Once again, a factor that used to make Finnick sick. And now it doesn’t.
“They’re really burning through us.” Johanna says.
“Who’s left? Besides us five and District Two?” Finnick asks.
“Chaff.” Peeta says without missing a beat.
The sound of clinking fills the air, you look up to find a parachute coming down, teetering from side to side. It lands perfectly in the middle of the group, unfolding itself to reveal the steaming rolls.
“Do these look like District Three to you?” Finnick looks at Johanna.
“Yeah, look at the imprint.” She says, running her finger over the top of one. “How many are there?”
Finnick counts them, being sure to be thorough. “Twenty-four. How should we divide them?”
“Let’s each have three, and whoever is still alive at breakfast can take a vote on the rest.” Johanna says, causing Katniss to laugh.
You pull your sword out of the sand, swinging it up to rest the flat part of the blade on your shoulder. Finnick looks up at you, eyeing your stance. You step away from them, shaking your head.
“Sit down, (Y/n).” Finnick tells you.
“Why, so you can keep an eye on me?” You snap, crossing the treeline. “Come and get me, Finnick.”
You make it a few feet in, before you hear the snapping of branches behind you. You sigh, turning with raised eyebrows to see that Finnick took it as a challenge. You didn’t mean it that way. You didn’t want him to chase you.
“Get out here.” He tells you.
You walk backward, tilting your head at him. “I’m just making sure Enobaria and Brutus aren’t out here.”
“I don’t care.” He’s still walking toward you. “We’ll worry about that when we make camp.”
You stop, letting your sword down from your shoulder. When you look past him, you can see that there’s enough distance between him and the beach. There’s privacy to talk and sort out what you heard.
Your eyes land on him, “Katniss told me something,” You start, watching his eyebrows twitch, “About how you thought I was the one screaming for help.”
Finnick shakes his head, “I thought it was my mom.”
“Yeah, that’s what I said too.” You tell him, “But you said my name, and you dropped everything to go and get me.”
He sets his jaw, “So?”
“So,” The word is bitter, “What changed?”
He laughs, “Nothing, (Y/n). I went—”
“They used loved ones and family.” You cut him off. “You care about me, admit it.”
“I don’t.” He tells you. “I never have, and I never will.”
“You chased after the jabberjays thinking it was me, and you followed me in here because you’re worried that I’ll get caught by the Careers, admit it.”
“I don’t know what you think is happening, but whatever it is, it’s not true.” His voice wavers.
This is all the confirmation you need. “You want to know what I’m thinking right now?” You press your pointer finger to the middle of his chest. “That you’re not bothered by me anymore, and you haven’t been for a while. You’ve done a damn good job of hiding it up until now, but the jabberjays got you good.”
Finnick grabs your wrist, “That’s not true.”
“What changed, Finnick?” You insist.
“Nothing, because I don’t have feelings for you.” He snaps. “The reason why I came in here is because we want to move camp to the ten sector once the wave happens, I just didn’t want you to get lost out here and think we abandoned you, making you think it’s a free-for-all.”
He lets go of your wrist, face screwed tightly, as he leaves you here. You watch him go back to the beach, while you take several breaths, feeling the pit in your stomach grow.
What have you done?
---
this is part of my 3k celebration!!
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22ayla19 · 6 months ago
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Jiyan x Pregnant! reader PART I
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As the wife of a general, you rarely saw your husband at home, but even so, in those rare moments when you spend time together, you try to enjoy so as not to forget them. After all, no one knows whether tomorrow or the day after tomorrow your husband will be alive.
Once again you accompany your husband to the gate and sadly look back at his departing figure. The next time you see him, you're not sure. Maybe in a month, maybe in two or three. No matter how many months pass, you will still be waiting for Jiyan.
However, a week after your husband left, you began to feel sick in the morning. Without being stupid and remembering that about a week ago you had sex with Jiyan, this could mean that you are pregnant. Of course, you bought a pregnancy test and checked your guesses, which in the end turned out to be correct.
Not knowing what to do in such a situation, you went to the hospital where your mother-in-law works. She, as a doctor and as a woman who has gone through pregnancy, will be able to tell you what to do, because in the early stages there is a possibility of miscarriage, and given your position as the wife of a general, who often puts her life on the line on the battlefield, there may be a high probability of miscarriage. How are you worried about him?
- Hello, mom. How are you doing? - you asked after knocking in your mother-in-law’s office. You didn’t even call her mother-in-law or her name, because she became a real mother to you. You grew up without a mother who died during childbirth. She was in the care of her father. You didn’t complain about life, because others could have had it worse, but your father didn’t stay with you for long, he died a couple of years ago. And when you first met Jiyan’s mother, you cried because of how much you missed your mother. The woman warmed to you and accepted you as her daughter.
- (Y/N), dear! Come in, come in! I haven’t seen you like that for a long time,- the woman hugged you, to which you happily responded.
- Sorry for not visiting, it’s work,- you answered the woman guiltily.
- Don’t worry, you have your own life, that’s why it’s understandable that you’re busy, sit down.
After chatting a bit about Jiyan's return and the latest news, you gathered your strength to share the good news.
- Mom, I really came to you with good news, - rummaging in your bag, you pulled out a pregnancy test and handed it to your mother-in-law. At first the woman did not understand why you wanted to please her. Taking the pregnancy test into her own hands, the woman’s smile became even wider.
- Will I become a grandmother? - the mother-in-law asked, not believing the test.
- You will become a grandmother, - you answered calmly, but just as happily.
- My congratulations, dear! How happy I am for you! Does Jiyan even know?
- No, I just found out that I’m pregnant a couple of days ago, and he’s been gone for almost two weeks, - you explained. You were already about to say something, like advice for pregnant women, when your father-in-law came into the office.
- Why are you happy here without me? Did something good happen? - asked the man.
- Rejoice, old brat. You will become a grandfather! - the wife shouted joyfully.
- Come on! (Y/N), dear, are you really pregnant? - The man asked you, not believing his wife’s words.
- Yes, father. I am pregnant.
The man smiled with all his teeth and joyfully said that now his colleagues would envy him that he became a grandfather before them. We laughed a lot at the man’s words, but the uncertainty immediately disappeared when we saw their loving glances.
Over the next months, while Jiyan was away, his parents helped you in any way they could. The main thing was that they supported you morally, because you were still worried about your husband. Another point where they helped you was with a medical examination, you underwent it on their advice once or twice a month. You decided not to find out the sex of the child ahead of time, let it be a surprise for everyone, no matter who it is, a boy or a girl.
Soon it was announced that the general would return, which means he will soon find out that he will become a father. The belly has already become more noticeable, although this is not surprising considering that I am already 4 months pregnant.
It was evening outside, you were in the living room with your mother-in-law and were talking about different topics. She often came and helped around the house more than once, saying: “You’re in a position, so it’s better to rest and walk more. I’ll cook you delicious, but healthy food at the same time.”
While you were chatting, the front door opened.
- I’ll go check who’s there, - said the future grandmother.
You remained in the living room, sitting on the sofa. Expecting to hear at least some voices, but somehow everything was suspiciously quiet.
Meanwhile, in the corridor, the woman met her son, who had returned from the border zone. Jiyan wanted to ask what his mother was doing in his house, but she told him to remain silent and quietly, so that you wouldn’t hear, told him to go to the living room, where you had prepared a surprise for him.
Jiyan was confused, what have you prepared that even his mother is participating in your idea? Quietly entering the living room, he greeted you, thereby frightening you.
- I’m sorry, dear, that I scared you, - the general said guiltily.
- It’s okay, I’m glad you returned safe and sound,- you replied. Jiyan didn’t immediately realize that you were pregnant, because you covered your stomach with a blanket.
- Mom, she said that you had prepared a surprise for me. Curious to know what it is?
- Well, the surprise itself is not ready yet. It will be ready only after another 5 months, - you answered your husband with a mischievous smile.
- That is?
You didn’t leave your husband thinking for long and took off the blanket. Jiyan's eyes widened in surprise. He remembered leaving and leaving you for a couple of months, but he didn’t know you were pregnant.
-Are you pregnant? - A lot of emotions were reflected on the general’s face. And joy, and fear, and surprise. He did not expect that he would soon become a father, he was very happy to realize this, but with this comes fear. Fear of losing you and your unborn child.
- Yes darling. I am pregnant.
These words echoed in his mind. He cried, cried with happiness.
- Darling, you can’t imagine how happy I am. You made me the happiest person in the world, - hugging you and also crying, he thanked you for such wonderful news.
Maybe someday he will have to die on the battlefield, but until then, he will fight. To fight so that I can return home to Jinzhou and see you and your baby growing up every day.
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caughtthedarkness93 · 6 months ago
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Not to do more Furiosaposting (and SPOILERS AHEAD), but a couple more things I noticed on a second viewing:
• I think Dementus is being honest about how he lost his family when Furiosa confronts him about it, and that's a big point the film is making. Furiosa isn't like Dementus when she finally chases him down. But she recognizes that she could become like him - a vile, cruel warlord who uses his own pain as an excuse to run roughshod all over the wasteland, smashing everything in her path, using her pain as an excuse to take from others. By that point, she's already a part of Immortan Joe's war machine. She is already complicit. And he does say to her that killing him won't give her what she wants. She resists the idea, but ultimately, it sure seems like she realizes he's right. And ultimately, that leads to her big choice - make a positive change rather than simply trying to hurt the people who hurt you. Granted, she still does do plenty of hurting the people who hurt her (Nice face you got there, Joe, be a shame if something happened to it). But the big, real legacy she builds is taking the Citadel in the name of a greater cause than fueling Immortan's cult of cruelty.
• Praetorian Jack is also complicit, honestly. And it's something he seems to recognize. He outright says that he's looking for a righteous cause. There's a lot we don't know about this man. He tells us very little of his history, nor do we know why he chooses to ride for Immortan Joe. But we do know that after meeting Furiosa, he wants to do everything in his power to help her. She becomes his righteous cause. So the whole film, Furiosa is kind of pulled between those two directions - Dementus, and Jack. Do you defeat the pain you carry by throwing it back to the people who gave it to you? Or do you seek a righteous cause to build it into something positive?
• Perhaps one of my biggest takeaways is related to Jack's death. It's not until Dementus kills Jack that Furiosa gets really set on revenge. Like she clearly loathes Dementus before that. Her first time meeting him as an adult, she goes straight for her gun. The camera highlights their relationship a lot, and I'm pretty sure her vengeful drive towards him has its own musical motif - listen for that driving, distorted noise that you hear sometimes. But revenge doesn't become her biggest driver until after Jack dies. Even as she feels clear hate and rage towards this man, she's still set on getting home all that time. But when Jack dies, she goes out of her way to try to kill him. And, relatedly, when Jack dies, she loses the arm that has her star map tattoo on it. So to put it another way, when she chooses to commit to vengeance, she loses her way.
• We need to consider perspective and narrator here, as this isn't like Fury Road where it's from the point of view of Max, who was directly there. Because this film's opening shot isn't of Furiosa. It's of another character - it's of the History Man. The first line belongs to him - "As the world falls around us. How must we brave it's cruelties?" The closing narration is his as well. Something that sticks in my head more and more is Dementus' ultimate fate. What gets me about it is that it feels implausible. Not only for Furiosa as a character, but for the way the series usually handles injuries. So George Miller was a paramedic before he was a filmmaker. In fact, his work as a paramedic is what partly inspired the first Mad Max film and what funded it. And in these films, Miller has put his medical knowledge to use. The characters' injuries are usually handled in a realistic way, with a few flights of fancy for people to make it through frankly absurd car wrecks. You see this especially in Fury Road, which takes the time to establish that Max is a universal donor twice so it makes sense to have him give a blood transfusion to Furiosa at the end. It talks about the ultimate effects of her collapsed lung and how to treat it. The injuries in these films feel realistic in a way movie wounds often don't. Dementus' final fate does feel a little complicatedly cruel for someone as pragmatic as Furiosa, but what really gets me is how medically implausible it is. We're supposed to believe that Dementus has been stuck in the citadel with a peach tree growing out of him for five years without dying? I...kinda don't. Why does this matter? I think it signals that aspects of the story fall to unreliable narration. These films are campfire stories from a world that fell and rose again. Always have been. But this one has a more direct narrator. The History Man is telling this story. It is filtered through his perspective.
• And that adds another layer to things, considering Furiosa and the History Man's backgrounds. We see the History Man, we see a guy who is clearly horrified by Dementus' actions. When Furiosa's mom is getting executed, he cries. He tells Furiosa that she needs to make herself indispensable - likely because he feels that it's the best way to protect her. But he still does Dementus' bidding, often without question or argument. In a word, the thing that ultimately separates the History Man from Furiosa is that where he was complicit until the very end, Furiosa chose to rebel.
• And I guess if I had to boil it all down, I think there's a great big takeaway from this film. Don't seek hope. Become hope.
Man, I love this movie.
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ennn · 23 days ago
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Unpacking the Deals of Ep 8: Why and What They Mean
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So episode 8 is... let's say a bit of a mess. I know there's some confusion around why Agatha proposes her terms for the first deal, why Rio flipped into cackling villain mode, why Rio makes another deal, etc.
Here's my read that hopefully helps draw a line from point A to B to C.
Let's consider the context of the first deal: Agatha's not having a good day. Two coven members who Agatha never expected to care about have died trying to protect her – a thing that has never happened before. And Death happens to be a person she can blame.
Death, who is pressing on that bruise ("Your coven is shrinking") and making her shitty day worse because she wants the kid Agatha is hardcore projecting on (and also didn't plan to care about) to die. Just like Nicky.
But Agatha then realises she has leverage on Rio. For the first time in forever, she has an advantage she can exploit. She can be in control.
And it's almost instinctive for Agatha at this point: finding the best buttons to push, the best terms for her given the opportunity.
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Agatha: If I deliver Billy, you let me go. Rio: You will eventually die, Agatha. Agatha: But I want you to stop pursuing me. I want you to stop making my life hell. And when I die, a long, long, long, long, long time from now, I don't want to see your face. Rio: ... Okay.
The terms that Agatha sets out seem cruel because they are. She says what she does because she wants it to hurt. Agatha's not only rejecting Rio's continued presence in her life, she's denying all the love that Rio's given her, building on what she's said before ("You gave me nothing.")
From Rio's POV, Agatha's cutting words aside, this entire deal sucks. Because the options are:
(a) Agatha doesn't hold up her end, which Rio knows might happen: Rio knows Agatha cares about Billy ("I know how you feel about him"). Rio's constantly reminding her he's not Nicky. She was already doubting Agatha would deliver her usual number of corpses. She saw how affected Agatha was after Alice's death.
If Agatha doesn't help, she'd be choosing a boy over everything Rio's done again – and this time another woman's.
And if Rio somehow manages to take Billy anyway, Agatha will end up hating her twice forever.
(b) Agatha does hold up her end, which might also happen: Rio knows Agatha's manipulative and smart and capable. More than that, she's well aware Agatha hates her. That Agatha still doesn't see what she's done for her ("No one in history has had special treatment like you").
That she knows Agatha does care about Billy but maybe hates her so much that she's willing to go through with this to cut her out from her life. Billy would be a dear price but one Agatha's maybe willing to pay.
Even if it was a 50:50 chance for these options, I think Rio realises her relationship with Agatha is doomed either way.
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Either way she does her job, with or without Agatha's help, she's going to be rejected and lose. One's just a slower path than the other.
I think that's why Rio gives in to her rage and bitterness and spite. Agatha thinks Rio's been making her life hell? She'll show her hell.
And Agatha, well I think there's some merit to the thinking that she didn't expect Rio to fold that quickly and completely.
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Now for the context of the second deal, it's not clear whether Rio knows what happened with Tommy. I assume Rio doesn't – not yet anyway – as she doesn't mention it at all and seems focused on squaring that one life Billy stole.
Now here's where it gets a little squirrely, to borrow Schaeffer's language. Because if you don't look too closely, it seems to make sense: Billy stole a life so to maintain the natural balance, Rio needs to take a life, the one Billy has now.
But how does Agatha's life work as a substitute for this imbalance (“This means you’re coming with me”)? Would any other person’s life work? Could Rio have swapped someone else's life to save Nicky then? Agatha would have been all too happy to arrange for that murder.
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I doubt the show is ever going to explain this so I offer few possible theories to deal with this weirdness:
Billy Maximoff is a product of chaos magic, so his existence and everything he affects already throws off the natural order, just to different orders of magnitude. Agatha’s life works as a substitute because his life is now intertwined with hers e.g. his hex probably saved her life from the Salem Seven and has the potential for greater imbalance
Rio is aware of Agatha’s tendency towards chaos and defiance of the natural order. Rio bent the rules of the universe only for Agatha. Taking her life would protect the balance in the larger scheme of things – if only so Rio won’t be further tempted to give her special treatment.
When Rio’s torturing Agatha it’s before she presents the second deal. So she’s still intending to go after Billy, she’s just removing Agatha as an obstacle while lashing out in rage and heartbreak.
In this moment Rio probably thinks Billy's in the wind. She saw how upset Billy was with Agatha at the end of episode 5. And Rio knows the reputation Agatha keeps ("Why do you let them believe those things about you?"), Rio probably thinks Agatha deliberately drove him off to keep him safe.
Then Billy pops up and Rio sees that Billy and Agatha care about each other and they're both aware they care about each other.
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Fuckin’ great. Rio's not bitter at all.
Looks like you two are finally on the same page. So I'll let you decide. One of you stays with me. The other walks free.
Agatha proposed a deal designed to hurt her? Now it’s her turn.
From Rio's POV, I think here are the possible outcomes:
(a) Agatha sacrifices herself for Billy: Not impossible I think. Rio knows Agatha cares about the boy but she also knows Agatha will do anything to survive. She thinks she's above death. But again, I think Rio also knows Agatha would have sacrificed herself for Nicky if she had that choice.
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What did Lorna want from the Road? To save her daughter.
This isn't an ideal outcome for Rio but she’s already resigned herself to losing Agatha I think, one way or another. This way if Agatha wants Billy to live so badly, this is the price she has to pay. The high cost of living.
(b) Billy steps up and sacrifices himself: Very possible given that Billy’s a young heroic sort and already showed up, risking his life to power up Agatha. Rio gets to do her job. Agatha will probably hate her more given the Nicky trauma but Rio’s already resigned to this on some level already, which is why she's raging.
Either way Agatha's going to hurt, and Rio's going to hurt.
It's interesting that when Billy does volunteer himself and Agatha seizes the opportunity to remind Rio of their earlier deal, Rio just shakes her head and looks amused.
You can also see for a brief moment Agatha looking almost remorseful about doing this before slipping her theatrical villainous mask on, overcompensating for her true feelings.
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Do you remember pain? It kinda tickles doesn't it?
By the letter (not the spirit or intent) of the first deal, Agatha did ultimately fulfil her part:
I can arrange that. I can get him to the finish line and deliver him to you.
This is an opportunity that's almost impossible to resist for someone as calculating and ruthless and selfish like Agatha. She has power (chaos magic no less), she can have Rio leave her alone forever (she knows Rio honours her word), she knows Billy cares about her but can she really trust him?
But Agatha ultimately decides to take a risk. A calculated one sure, but still a risk.
I think the beauty in the kiss and her sacrifice is how – despite her calculating the odds – Agatha is choosing to give in to what she feels and wants in that moment.
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Because she does want to protect the boy in a way no one did for her when she was young. She wants to save Billy like she couldn't with Nicky. And she does want Rio so much despite everything that's happened.
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unluckilyimnot · 7 months ago
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Hii love your writing sm! Can you write how would rin,sae,karasu and otoya react if them and the reader went on a date/stroll around the park and a lady who is selling roses approaches them and asks them if they woud buy one for the reader??
roses – rin, sae, karasu
m.list | rules
Note: hiii thank you for your request ! Here it is hihi for the fun fact, it happened to me once on a date with a guy (he didn’t say yes btw, it was like our second date something like that) sorry I couldn't think of eita's reaction ;-;
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Rin Itoshi
Rin blushed a little and if he could, he would’ve turned his face away for you not to see this. You patted his arm sweetly before locking your arm with his. You were sure that his nervous self would panics at this situation.
“Sorry ma’am, that’s maybe too soon for that –” but Rin cut you off.
“Here.” He handed cash to the lady and she let you choose one of them with a smile.
You let go off his arm while looking a little. Your eyes met with hers and she flashes you a big smile. “You find a good one here.” she said with a wink.
You could feel your cheeks heat up as well and wave her goodbye with your fresh flower in hand. It smells so good, you were kinda sure it was from her garden.
Looking up to Rin, you pushed it under his nose ass well. “It really smells good.”
Sniffing a little, Rin only nods, still not looking at you. You almost started to feel bad.
“Thank you.” you whispered, laying your head on his arm. It wasn’t early in the relationship in fact, you just knew Rin was uncomfortable with this type of things. You never expected him to say yes. That for sure made your heart flutter.
She was totally right, you had to keep him.
Sae Itoshi
As soon as the lady came closer, Sae turned her off with a strict gaze. He’s not into this kind of stuff anyway, and it’s not a flower that can reflect how much he loves you. It fades away at some point, and he wishes to offer you the best things in life, not something that dies anyway.
He was about to go on with his day and forget about it already when the lady spoke to you.
“If he doesn’t even consider it, maybe you should find someone better.”
“Maybe you’re right.” you added, giggling with her to tease him a little.
You forget for a little how Sae takes things seriously. If you think that you have to reconsider his love over a flower, he’ll make sure to prove you wrong. Mostly her, in fact.
Turning around on his heels, he looked dead in her eyes and said, without even thinking twice this time, “I’ll take them all.”
You gasped before laughing out loud this time, tears already showing in your eyes. You grabbed his arm, shaking your head.
“Come on Sae, I’m kidding it’s fine !”
“No. I take it.”
That’s how you end up with around fifty roses and you were already thinking about where to pt them around your place .
Tabito Karasu
The second Tabito saw the old lady, it clicked in his head. He just had to find something to keep you occupied for a few minutes. 
Bringing back the fact that you were hungry a while ago, he let you wait in the line for soame waffle and ice cream, faking that he had to call someone back quickly before he could come back. You didn’t ask anything about it, it happens quite often with his job. You understand that. 
Little did you know, he rushed to the old lady the second your eyes fell on your phone. She wasn’t expecting him, he could tell when he heard her gasp.
“Sorry I surprised you, but he would really like one for my s/o without them knowing,” he explained, eyes wide open enough to make her giggle. She nodded of course, handing him two flowers.
“The second is a gift, they’re very lucky to have you, young man.” Her tender smile, showing him how age marked her yet never touched her kindness, made him soft as he thanked her with a warm smile as well. He’ll make sure to let you know. 
You covered your mouth in shock when he tapped your shoulder before handing you the two roses. You didn’t expect him to find her himself for you.
“You didn’t have to !”
“One is from her, it’s a gift.” he chuckles, greatly appreciating the kiss you laid on his cheek to thank him.
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I hope you liked it !
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billieshrry · 1 month ago
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Every Move You Make • B.E.
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Summary: read pt 1 and 2 first!
Warnings: smut finally, all the warnings from other parts apply here
You and Billie had never been better.
Honestly, your entire life had never been better. Billie protected you, drove you everywhere, bought you everything, taught you stuff you would’ve never thought to learn. She was truthfully so caring, honest, and loving.
You really wanted to be her girlfriend.
When you came to this realization, you felt a twinge of guilt. You never really had a “break up” with your ex; you had discussed it a few nights before he died. When he had found your journal and read what you had been thinking about the relationship, he didn’t react very well. So you really don’t have the closure of that ending, but my God do you like Billie.
Honestly, you already love her.
You won’t tell her that, you can’t, because you now how stupid you sound. You aren’t even dating yet, and it definitely hasn’t been long enough for the “L word” to be used, but it felt right. You knew her, you trusted her, and she took care of you.
You had never felt safer with someone. Billie kept you safe.
And honestly, beyond your knowledge, technically she did.
I mean, I guess she wasn’t protecting you from the murderer themself, but Billie wasn’t gonna hurt you. God, no. She’d never even think about it. Everything she did was for you. She breathed for you, at this point. She thought about you constantly. You consumed her.
At this point, you had practically moved in with her. You couldn’t stand being alone, especially with all of these people disappearing in your town. It scared you, Billie knew it did. She almost felt bad. Almost. But she also knew that what she was doing was for the best. It’s what you needed.
So she wouldn’t stop. Especially if she’s not getting caught. Where’s the fun in that?
You had only complained once or twice about many people; your pest of a boss, your next door neighbor who you had a feeling would watch you change, your bitch of a friend who complained about her stealing all of your attention. There wasn’t really much for her to work with.
But Billie was getting antsy. She craved action. She wasn’t crazy, but the feeling of holding someone’s heart, physically holding it in her hand, it was unmatched.
You sat on her lap while she scrolled aimlessly on her laptop at her desk. She was supposed to be working, but your back was arched just perfectly enough for your spine to divot into your skin, and your sleep tank did nothing to hide it. A pair of her boxers were loose and low on your waist, and the thin fabric was doing nothing to hide the heat that was radiating onto her thigh. She could feel every part of you.
You watched her screen, looking at her computer mouse go in circles. You knew you were distracting her, you weren’t that naive. What you didn’t know is how she would react. You guys had kissed, and sure it got heated sometimes, but she never let it go too far. You didn’t understand why, and you were too afraid to ask.
You wiggle your hips, making yourself a bit more comfortable, and you hear Billie take a sharp inhale. She pats your hip twice, signaling you to get up. You obey.
“Are you okay?” She can tell you sound worried, but you have no real reason to be. You could never make her mad. To her, you’re a God. A real life angel. Perfection.
“Yeah, yeah of course. Follow me?” She smirks at you, and you feel yourself go weak. You nod and stay hot on her tail, following her to wherever she goes. She leads you into her bedroom, somewhere you’ve been many times, especially within the past couple of weeks. Your sleepovers seemed to be every night, and most were at her house. You even brought your cats over to Billie’s house, and she bought all new things for them: toys, litter boxes, food and water bowls. They (and you) were in heaven.
When you walk into her room, Billie quietly goes behind you to shut the door. You take a deep breath in, smelling her scent that lingers on everything. She walks back in front of you, sitting on the edge of the bed, her legs spread wide as she crosses her arms in front of her chest.
“I wanna talk to you about something.” She says seriously. You feel your heart speed up. You feel like you’re in trouble, but you can’t seem to think of anything you did.
“It’s not bad, sweetheart. Don’t hurt yourself overthinking it. Here, come here.” She smiles at you and pats her lap, silently willing you to straddle her on the bed. You do, and you feel her palm your ass to scoot you closer to her. You gulp and push your hair behind your ears, looking down into her eyes.
“You know I think you’re beautiful, right?”
You giggle. “Of course I do, Billie! Is that what you needed to say?”
She shakes her head, stifling laughter of her own.
“I’m nervous around you, and that never happens to me. I guess I just wanna make sure I’m as perfect to you as you are to me. That make sense?”
You sense the air getting thicker with tension, and she’s back to a serious tone.
“I’m confused, you are perfect to me. What’s going on?”
She sighs, pulling a strand of hair back in front of your ear, toying with it. She looks up at you, and it’s like her eyes had gone dark. Her voice goes quiet, and she whispers like what she has to say might break the room if she says it too loud.
“I really, really want to fuck you, baby. But I don’t wanna pressure you. It’s just, it’s eating me alive.”
You feel your skin get hot and your cheeks flush with the deepest shade of pink. Your head spins and suddenly you’re hyperaware of every touch she’s giving you right now.
“Billie…”
“I know. I know and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything, it’s just so hard when you-”
You cut her off, grabbing her jaw gently.
“Billie, I want that.”
Immediately her mouth snaps shut, and she looks up at you with the most intense eye contact.
“You want what?”
You feel yourself shy away, too embarrassed to say what you meant. It’s hard to really say it, and you don’t want to look stupid.
“Say it, angel. Say what you want.” Her voice is sultry and raspy and driving you all sorts of wild.
“I want you to make me feel good. I want you to fuck me.”
Her tongue slides out between her lips, wetting them.
“You mean it?”
You nod.
“Words.”
“Yes, Billie. I mean it.”
And there was the shift.
She grabs the sides of your face, pulling you in for the most aggressive yet gentle kiss of your life. Her lips pillow against yours, and you feel pure ecstasy running in your veins. Subconsciously, you grind your hips, making you moan into her mouth. She softly nibbles on your bottom lip before pulling away, sliding her hands down to your hips. She watches as she pulls your hips, guiding them to grind on her thigh. She watches your face, your sweet, innocent face, contort with pleasure as she speeds up and slows down, driving you wild.
“If I’d known you wanted this too, I wouldn’t have waited so long.” She rasps.
You can’t speak. Your brain is foggy and your vision is blurry. All you can think of is the way that the rough material of her pants and the boxers you’re clad in feel against your clit.
“Go on, sweetheart. Get yourself off on my thigh.”
And you did, with the help of her hands guiding your hips. You came quickly, soaking your boxers and her leg. Your sweet moans filled her ears, swelling her heart and filling her head of the dirtiest thoughts.
“I was dreaming,” Billie starts, kissing your neck as you slow your pace, coming down from your high, her voice sweet as honey, “dreaming of you wrapped around my waist,” she kisses back up your neck, to your jaw and ear and cheek, back to your lips, “your legs wrapped all on me while I fuck you real nice.”
A soft sigh leaves your lips, and you feel yourself clench around nothing as her hands wander down your torso to your thighs.
“I think,” you whisper, breathless and so needy, “I can make your dreams come true.”
And boy, did you make them come true alright. You straddled her as she picked you up, turning you both around so your back was on the bed, and she gently kissed down your body. She carefully rid you of your shirt, but left on your bra as she made your way back down, kissing every inch of your warm skin.
“So fuckin’ pretty.” She murmured against your lower stomach, making you gasp from the vibrations. You uncrossed your legs from her body and picked your hips up so she could pull off the boxers.
“Do- do you think I can leave the underwear on?” Your voice was dripping with nervousness until Billie smiled softly, looking up at you.
“Whatever you want, baby. ‘S up to you.”
And it was. It always was. Her entire life was up to you, at this point. You unknowingly controlled her every thought, every action, everything she was. She pulled your underwear to the side, salivating at your gorgeousness.
“Been hiding this pretty little thing from me for so long, hm?” She smirks, watching you wiggle your hips in desperation. “You were gonna keep it from me ‘til I told you how bad I needed it?”
You nod, unable to think straight. She chuckles at you before dragging her finger up your folds, collecting your arousal that had been growing for what seemed like ages.
“Taste so fuckin’ sweet too.”
That’s the last thing you hear before your head goes blank and her fingers work veraciously on your nerves, not stopping until you reach your climax. She watches you wriggle underneath her as she slides her index finger inside of you, thumbing your clit with the same hand, and using the other to put pressure on your lower stomach.
“God, you’re so tight.” You hear her whisper over your moans, so close to cumming right then and there. Her fingers work expertly inside and on you, and she uses her plush lips to leave little pecks on your inner thighs. She watches you come undone, watches your sweet juices flood her fingers, only barely using her tongue to lap them up, not wanting to overstimulate you already. As you calm down, she slowly pulls her fingers out before bringing them to your own mouth, letting you taste yourself on her. Both of you moan at that, Billie’s eyes widening as you sucked her fingers expertly, and you could tell you were in for a long, long time.
Until you remember you had made plans with some friends to catch a movie at 7pm. And when you turn your head to the clock on the nightstand, reading 6:32, you look up at her with a look in your eyes she could read immediately.
“You okay?” She asks anxiously, not wanting to push you. You sit up, kissing her lips quickly, before sliding off the bed and searching for your clothes.
“I told Angela and Becca I’d meet them at the movies at 7. I’m so sorry, I totally forgot, please please don’t be mad!”
How could Billie be mad? She looked into your innocent eyes, smiling as she wipes her fingers on her pants.
“Could never be mad at you, sweet girl. You want clothes to wear? Sweats or something?”
You nod as she digs through her drawers, tossing a pair of sweatpants and a matching hoodie out toward you. As you slide them on, she kisses your head and goes down to your ear.
“Next time, I’m not letting you off so easily, though.”
You laugh, nudging her away.
“I wish I didn’t have to leave, I’m sorry. I really am. I promise I’ll make it up to you.” You smirk, and she bites her lip.
“I’ll be counting on it.”
She walks you to the door, seeing you off to your house, before shutting it, locking it, and walking into the kitchen, washing her hands and splashing her face with water, trying to rid her thoughts of you writhing underneath her.
She makes her way to the basement door, unlocking it with a key she kept in her pocket at all times, and flicks on the light, immediately hearing muffled whimpers. The stairs creak with each step she takes, and as she makes it to the bottom, she doesn’t even look at the bitch tied up in the chair before putting on her gloves and grabbing a knife, hitting the ‘Play’ button on her speaker. Music booms through the basement, rock this time, as she makes her way over to her next victim.
Billie rips the tape off of her mouth, and screams fill the room.
“Dumb bitch, you think I’d take this off if anyone could hear you scream?”
The look in the girl’s eyes only fueled Billie’s hunger.
“Wh- why are you doing this to me?” She forced out through sobs, her voice almost gone from screaming.
“‘Cause you’re a bitch, and bitches deserve to die.”
Billie smiles as she does it, singing to herself as she carves away, only dreading the mess she’ll have to clean up after.
And two weeks later, when the house next door to you was on the market again, you didn’t even blink an eyelid, just happy that the creep of a neighbor was overpowered by the one you loved just across the street.
Although, to you, you were just happy that the neighbor had “moved away.”
————————————————————————————
I promise I’m not crazy! Psycho!billie is tho
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shukraastro · 2 months ago
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Vedic Astrology - Future Spouse Prediction: The Name part 2
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As I already discussed the method to predict predict the prominent sounds the Future Spouses name in my previous post (link below), now I will show some examples.
Example 1 Angelina Jolie
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Her Birthdate is June 4th, 1975 at 1:05 am in Los Angeles (US)
In her D9 chart her 7th house has the sign of Aquarius, therefor her 7th lord is Saturn. Her Saturn is places in Taurus in Krittika Nakshatra.
The Hindi letters for Krittika Nakshatra are:
आ equals an A (ah) sound
ई equals an I (eeh) sound
उ equals an U (ooh) sound
ऐ equals an E (ai) sound
Her first husbands name is Johnny Lee Miller (I sound in all 3 names)
Her second husbands name is Billy Bob Thornton (I sound twice in the first name)
Her third husbands name is Brad Pitt (E sound in first name, I sound in the last name)
As you can see the sound I is very prominent in the names of her Ex-spouses. Brad Pitt even has two different sounds present in his names, not only the I sound in Pitt but also the E sound in Brad.
Additional note: Another point I wanna add is that her Ketu in her D1 chart is also in Krittika Nakshatra. And Ketu also holds an important signaficance in the Spouse analysis, because it represents our partner from a past life. I forgot to mention that in my previous post (I might add that later on there as well). But the reason why Ketu in the D1 chart can also be a strong indicator of the spouse is because it is similar to our lowest point, while Rahu is similar to our highest point, since it represents our destination where we are heading towards in this lifetime and Ketu is where we started. In this manner it is kinda similar to our Darakaraka and can also indicate traits of a spouse who comes from a past life.
Example 2 Justin Bieber
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His Birthdate is March 1st, 1994 at 0:56 am in Stratford, CA
In his D9 chart he also has the sign of Aquarius in the 7th house. Again, the ruler is Saturn and it's places in Sagittarius, Uttara Ashadha Nakshatra. Let's also look at his Ketu in the D1 chart, it's in Krittika Nakshatra and let's also look at his Darakaraka planet which is the Moon and in the D9 chart his Moon is in Swati Nakshatra.
Now we got Uttara Ashadha, Krittika and Swati.
Uttara Ashadha Nakshatra Hindi letters:
भे भो जा जी
Sounds: Be (bhe) Bo (bho) Ja Ji
Krittika Nakshatra Letters (we already discussed above)
Sounds: A (ah) I (eeh) U (ooh) E (ai)
Swati Nakshatra Letters:
रू रे रो ता
Sounds: Ru (roo) Re Ro Ta
As everyone knows he's married to Hailey and Hailey's full name before getting married was Hailey (E sound) Rhode (Ro sound) Baldwin (Bo sound). The Bo sound in Baldwin is very subtle in the pronunciation. Like I already mentioned in the previous post, you need to give it some room when comparing these sounds in Hindi with the sounds in names from different foreign languages.
Example 3 Amitabh Bachchan
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His Birthdate is October 11th, 1942 at 3:00 pm in Allahabad (IN)
In his D9 chart his 7th house is in the sign of Scorpio, Mars is the ruler and is placed in Cancer, Ashlesha Nakshatra.
The Hindi letters for Ashlesha Nakshatra are:
डी डू डे डो
Sounds: Di (dee) Du (doo) De Do
His wife's full name before she got married to him was Jaya Bhaduri (Du sound).
These were just some of the examples I gave. 95% of the celebrities who I've looked up their charts and applied this method was accurate. I have also applied this method on both my parents and relatives and it has always worked. I really hope I was able to demonstrate this in a comprehensive way for you guys.
Thanks for reading🌺
link to part 1:
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thefatesofspring · 4 months ago
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The acotar fandom will forever be funny to me because by Tamlin’s very own actions, he is the very definition of that one quote/viral TikTok sound that goes something like “the hero will sacrifice the one he loves for the world but the villain would burn the world down for the one he loves” or however it goes.
Tamlin literally sacrificed Prythian twice for Feyre!! 1st was by sending her home when she was still human the 2nd time was by playing spy with Hybern but also using that opportunity to free Feyre from her bargain to Rhysand & get her back so she’s safe.
Rhysand on the other hand…
• sexually assaulted & exploited Feyre
• violated & embarrassed her mental/private thoughts & then exposed them to Tamlin in front of Lucien
• knowingly let an unknowing Feyre be used as live bait for the attor just to see if it was going to continue to follow them & attack
• Had her steal the book of breathing from Summer Court & nearly died in the process
• let her walk into the weavers cottage without telling her that their was a high possibility she would die in the process to retrieve a ring…a ring that’s meant to prove how much she loves & deserves Rhysand even though she had already done the above by this point & didn’t need to do anything more to prove her love for Rhysand
• kept the dangers of her pregnancy away from her
• knew that Ianthe wasn’t who Tamlin or Feyre believed her to be & didn’t warn either of them about her proposal to him for an heir & power, which ultimately lead to them being blindsided by Ianthe’s betrayal.
• twisted the piece of bone in her infected arm to the point where she nearly blacked out from the pain
• complained about 500 gold marks Nesta spent & read the bill which in turn embarrassed Feyre in front of everyone at breakfast, even though 500 gold marks is nothing to him, he has openly admitted that the IC drink & gamble all the time & worse etc
I could go on & on but it’s just funny because the fandom particularly go crazy over that audio & the whole time it doesn’t even apply to Rhysand but to Tamlin but because Tamlin is blonde and doesn’t handle his temper/emotions in the best way, people will jumps through saturns rings to “explain” why that’s Rhysand & not Tamlin even though canon text states otherwise😩😂
Anyway…thank you for coming to my TedTalk
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avayarising · 3 months ago
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Deaths of Dick Grayson
Part of the Batfam Death Project.
Dick has died four times and travelled to a world of the dead twice. Total time dead: up to several weeks.
Verifiable deaths
1. Killed by the Joker (Emperor Joker, 2000)
Dick was killed by the Joker after Joker stole reality-altering powers from Mxyzptlk and remade the universe to his liking.
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It’s unclear exactly how he died, but Joker kept Nightwing’s dead and rotting corpse alongside Tim’s and Jason’s.
Dick was brought back to life when the universe was restored by Mxyzptlk and Hal Jordan (as the Spectre) after Superman defeated Joker.
Time dead: unclear, but it appears to be multiple days and theoretically could be several weeks.
2. Briefly killed by Mr Fun (Batman: Family 2:7, 2003)
Dick was killed by Mr Fun, a skilled assassin working for a gang boss calling herself Athena (who was also CEO of Wayne Enterprises and trying to bring it down from the inside). Mr Fun crept up on Nightwing, hit him in the head with a golf club and then, while he was concussed and disoriented, used pressure points to stop his breathing and heart.
Cass fought Mr Fun off Nightwing, but Mr Fun shot her off the roof with one of dead Nightwing’s wrist rockets. When Cass recovered, Mr Fun had left (to kill the person they were supposed to be guarding). She returned to Nightwing and resuscitated him using CPR, which apparently cured his head injury too.
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Time dead: long enough for Cass to fight off Mr Fun (which wasn’t easy) and recover from being shot down, and then give Dick CPR, so probably a good few minutes.
3. Killed and raised by Lex Luthor (Forever Evil 6–7, 2014)
Dick was hooked up to a murder machine involving a bomb wired to his heart, such that it could only be disarmed by killing Dick. Lex Luthor stopped his heart by making him swallow a pill.
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Batman of course then started going feral on Lex until Lex persuaded him that he could bring Dick back, which he did with a shot of adrenaline to the heart.
Time dead: long enough for Batman to get in a good couple of punches on Luthor, plus time for Luthor to detach Dick from the machine, so probably up to two minutes.
4. Beaten to death by groblins (Dark Nights: Death Metal 7, 2021)
Dick, along with other members of the Batfamily, was overwhelmed by a swarm of ‘groblins’: mindless evil Jokerised Robins invading from the Dark Multiverse, led by the Robin King (an evil child Bruce Robin). His death happens off-panel but we see his corpse lying on the ground.
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(Then Bruce, who was already dead and a Black Lantern, raised his dead family members as zombies.)
Dick was restored to proper life when Wonder Woman, powered by the determination of her friends, defeated the evil Batman Who Laughs and persuaded the gods to remake the multiverse as it was before the evil universes invaded the good ones.
Time dead: somewhere from quarter of an hour to an hour? Or perhaps a lot longer, if it took longer to rebuild the world. It’s always a little tricky to be sure when world remakes are involved.
Afterlife visits
A trip to Dis (Titans 1:4, 1999)
Dick, along with the rest of the Titans, signed a magic book created by a demon called Goth that summoned them to Dis, a region of Hell. Goth had positioned himself as an actor and superstar and got his fans to sign the book, then led them in a chant to transport them to Dis.
Kory was amongst those who had signed the book and was transported, so Dick and the rest of the Titans went after her.
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They discover that the way to get out is to find things to care about, and spend some time individually persuading people to care one at a time, but they start to lose hope, infected by the aura of apathy in Dis. Kory, who is less affected, attacks Goth and throws him down from a height, causing his fans to return to the mortal world because they are worried about Goth and the Titans to return because they are worried about Kory.
Time in afterlife: looks like several hours.
Hell heist (Nightwing 4:103, 2023)
Raven created a portal to bring Nightwing, along with Beast Boy and Cyborg, to Hell to find Blockbuster’s contract with the demon Neron, wherein Blockbuster sold the soul of his firstborn daughter, a nine-year-old called Olivia.
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They found the contract and returned to the mortal realm, also courtesy of Raven. (Turned out Neron’s contract was easy to thwart: Dick just had to become a foster parent and assume legal guardianship of Olivia. Neron tried to tempt Dick with super powers, but while Dick very much enjoyed the free sample he was not even briefly tempted to give up Olivia for them.)
Time in afterlife: probably a few hours of travel, fighting, and research.
Batfam Death Project Masterpost
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leafostuff · 6 months ago
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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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bloodibambiidoll · 6 months ago
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pleaseeee write some more rafe x weird!reader 🙏🏻🫶🏻
How about some Weird!girl headcanons?🤭🪞🥀
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Weird!girl and Rafe met at the cemetery about a year after Ward died. Rafe was there visiting his grave, boasting to his deceased father about his success when he heard the prettiest little voice. He never expected to find the most beautiful, yet most strange girl he’s ever met sitting by her mother’s grave with a little orange cat.
Weird!girl absolutely adores animals of all kinds. Her family owns one of the most successful dairy companies in the country so she’s spent a lot of time around farm animals. She absolutely adores baby goats and bunnies the most though.
Weird!Girl’s mom died when she was young and her dad was never around so she was raised by her eccentric kook grandma. Everyone in the OBX always thought there was just something a little odd about her entire family.
Weird!Girl is a passenger princess through and through, she tried to get her permit when she was 15 but failed the test twice and honestly just gave up after that. Her grandma always had a driver for her growing up and once she gets with Rafe he happily takes on that position.
Weird!girl loves pretty things, but not in a classic diamond way. She loves random opal rings and pretty lace dresses found at vintage shops. And chunky chokers from flea markets. Rafe can’t stand this. He finds loopholes by buying her custom bat shaped jewelry and expensive platform shoes from her favorite brands.
Weird!girl has never really had a lot of friends. All the other kooks either looked down their noses at her or straight up belittled her. She was written off by Pogues just for being a kook, even if she didn’t feel like one. Rafe is her first real relationship, friendship or otherwise.
Weird!girl has a little white bunny named Lydia who she treats like her actual child.
Weird!girl wasn’t a virgin when she and Rafe met, she lost it to a band geek in high school and has had a few random hook ups as an adult. Rafe likes to pretend those didn’t happen.
Weird!girl smokes cigarettes and weed but she’s really girlie pop about it with her little vintage ashtrays and cute little custom bongs off Etsy. She also loves to hit the pen.
Weird!girl has tons of cute little tattoos. Baby deer, lambs, teddy bears with too many eyes and their stuffing coming out.
Weird!girl collects dolls, some porcelain but mostly Monster High and Bratz dolls. Rafe teases her about this at first but when she gets genuinely upset he realizes how much it means to her and now he’s buying her every single doll she’s ever wanted no matter the price.
Weird!girl absolutely loves horror. Rafe isn’t the biggest fan at first but once he sees how much she loves it and how happy rambling on about it makes her it makes him learn to appreciate it more.
Weird!girl is constantly making Rafe take pictures of her. She will dress up in little costumes or outfits and drag him out to the middle of the woods for an impromptu photoshoot. He’s a well trained Instagram boyfriend at this point.
Weird!girl has Rafe wrapped around her little finger and she doesn’t even really realize to what extent. She says jump and he says how high. He’s very in tune with her needs, before she can even ask him for something he’s already doing it.
Weird!girl is an absolute freak in bed. She’s submissive for the most part but sometimes she straddles Rafe and rides him so hard all he can do is hold onto her hips for dear life and take it. She loves marking him up. Scratches, bite marks, bruises she sucked into his skin. But she wants the same from him, she has a huge ownership kink.
All things Rafe & His weird!girl here
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