#and i like breaking bad and he started watching breaking bad !!

[prettygirl-gabi]

Home Is Where You Are

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader (Mom!Paige x Mom!Y/N)

Fandom: WNBA-Dallas Wings

Summary: 14 hour shifts, wnba mom and a cute little 7 year old… sounds like home

🏷️: @paigeshirleytemple , @cowboybueckers , @unknowgirlypop , @yailtsv , @nicebellee , @sitawita , @thatonesuschix , @vamptizm , @elalfywhore , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld , @jadasogay , @paigeluvvr , @melpthatsme , @lessi-lover , @courtsidewithlani , @elswhore , @italyyy , @lightsgore , @private-but-not-a-secret , @aubreygriffin , @issilovesherself , @graceeeeeesblog , @sayurireidotcom , @iwasbored-okay

PAIGE’S POV

The sound of little feet hitting the floor makes me pause the show playing in the background—some rerun of Bluey, I think.

Ashton’s been asleep for about two hours now.

We’d done the whole bedtime routine—bath, stories, warm milk, even extra snuggles in his Star Wars blanket.

I’d kissed his forehead and tucked him in like always.

So hearing the pitter-patter of those socked feet at almost 11 p.m. makes my heart race a little.

I sit up, stretching an arm over the side of the bed just in case he makes it all the way to our room.

Sure enough, he appears at the doorway, hair tousled and his little pajama shirt clinging to him like he’d just been sweating in his sleep. His stuffed frog, Franklin, dangles from one hand.

“Mommy?” he says in that sleepy, trembling voice that makes my chest ache.

“I’m here, baby,” I say instantly, scooting back and pulling the blanket up.

He doesn’t hesitate. He practically leaps into the bed and wiggles his way under the covers beside me.

“Did you have a bad dream?” I whisper, brushing some curls off his forehead. He nods and curls into my side like he’s still unsure if I’m real.

“I… I dreamed you were gone,” he mumbles, clutching Franklin tighter.

“Like… both of you were gone, and the house was empty, and it was raining inside. The TV was on but it was all broken.”

I pull him even closer.

“Oh, bubba,” I sigh, kissing the top of his head. “You know we’d never leave you, right?”

“I had to run down the hall to make sure you were still here,” he admits, voice barely above a whisper now. “When I saw you in bed, I felt better.”

I blink a few times, heart full and breaking all at once. “Well, I’m here. And you’re safe. Mama’s just working a long shift tonight, remember?”

He nods again, but he doesn’t let go of me.

“Wanna watch something with me?” I ask softly. “We can put on Disney Junior.”

“Bluey?” he murmurs.

“You got it.”

I grab the remote from the nightstand and flick it to Disney Junior. The screen lights up the room in a soft glow, and Ashton settles in, cheek resting on my arm as the opening theme plays.

“Mama’s gonna be home when you wake up,” I tell him.

“I know,” he whispers, and I hear the exhaustion finally start to take over his voice. “I just wanted to be with you…”

“I always want to be with you too, bub.”

He falls asleep like that, one small hand tucked against my side and the other wrapped around Franklin.

And even though it’s late and I’m a little sore from practice earlier, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

Y/N’S POV

The hospital hallway smells like antiseptic and black coffee, and I can’t tell anymore whether the hum in my ears is from the lights or from being on my feet for fourteen straight hours.

It’s 4:47 a.m.

The overnight shift is brutal.

Worse when it’s back-to-back with another one tomorrow. But someone’s gotta do it.

And truth be told—I miss my family so much it aches.

The only reason I got through tonight was because Paige sent a selfie around 9 p.m. of her and Ashton cuddled on the couch, both wearing their Dallas Wings hoodies, eating popcorn and making faces at the camera.

I live for those pictures.

I live for them.

I glance at my phone again while changing out of my scrubs in the locker room.

Paige B.

“He’s in bed. We watched Bluey and ate too many Oreos. Love you.”

sent 11:13 p.m.

I smile, small and tired, as I slip on my hoodie and head toward the parking garage.

The drive home is blurry.

My body aches, but my mind is running on one track: I need a shower, I need my girl, and I need to kiss my son good morning even if he’s still asleep.

The front door creaks as I push it open, and I’m extra careful with the key.

The house is quiet, dark, but I hear the faint sound of a TV still running somewhere—cartoon voices, soft and steady.

The hallway to our room feels longer in the silence.

And then I see it: the glow of the TV playing Bluey, Paige curled up under the blanket, and Ashton snuggled tight against her, his little hand still gripping Franklin.

God, they’re beautiful.

Paige is facing him but I can tell she’s not in a deep sleep.

It’s that kind of half-rest she always falls into when she’s waiting for me.

I backtrack to the bathroom, turning the water on low and hot, tiptoeing through the routine to avoid waking anyone.

The shower hits my skin and I wince.

But not from the hotness of the water.

It’s been a long day.

A brutal one.

I just want to scrub the hospital off of me and crawl into bed between the two loves of my life.

I’m just washing my arms when I hear the door creak open.

“Ma?” Paige’s voice is soft, raspy, still half-asleep.

I turn and smile as she steps in, blinking through the steam.

She doesn’t say anything else.

Just steps in behind me, arms sliding around my waist as her cheek presses to my shoulder.

“You should be asleep,” I murmur.

“I don’t fully sleep when you’re not home,” she says, and I feel her lips kiss the top of my spine. “How was your shift?”

“Exhausting,” I admit, leaning into her touch.

“Let me help,” she whispers.

She takes the loofah from me gently and begins washing my back, slow and tender, like I’m made of glass.

Her fingers trail behind each motion, pressing soft, familiar circles into my shoulders, down my spine.

Her lips kiss just below my neck.

“I missed you,” I breathe.

“I missed you more,” she counters.

The water runs warm between us, and it feels like the whole world fades for a minute.

There’s no hospital.

No overtime.

No sore muscles.

Just her.

Her touch.

Her love.

After a few more minutes, we rinse off, dry each other in soft, tired silence, and slip back into bed.

Ashton hasn’t moved an inch.

He’s in the exact same spot—except now, his hand is outstretched slightly, like he was waiting for someone else to return.

I slip into the bed and press a kiss to his forehead.

Paige pulls the blanket over us and slides in behind me, her arm wrapping around both me and Ashton.

Her chin rests lightly against my shoulder.

“TV okay?” she mumbles, eyes already starting to flutter closed again.

“Perfect,” I whisper.

The screen glows in the dim room, playing a soft, familiar theme song.

And even though I’m bone tired, my heart is so full it could burst.

Later That Morning. After I had only a few hours of sleep and the sun is peaking through the curtains more.

I’m now half-awake when I feel little fingers tapping my arm.

“Mama?” Ashton’s voice is tiny.

I blink open my eyes. “Hey, bub…”

“You’re home!” he beams, climbing over Paige to smush himself into my arms.

I pull him close, pressing my nose into his curls. “I’m home.”

“I had a bad dream,” he mumbles again. “But Mommy let me sleep with her. She said you’d be back.”

“She was right.”

I glance over and see Paige still half-asleep, smiling into the pillow.

“Wanna watch Bluey again?” I ask him.

“Only if you stay with us this time.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

I hold him tight, Paige’s hand finding mine under the blanket.

Disney Junior keeps playing.

And just like that—we’re whole again.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

                 -Thank You For Reading!💚💙

                             -prettygirl-gabi✨️💗

[fangel]

KIPO, MY LOVE !!!!! ｡･ﾟ･(つㅿ⊂)･ﾟ･｡ i may or may not have read this live commentary over several times bc the joy it brings me like omg praise kink going brrrrr anyways i will also ramble a bit with you bc YOUR MIND ?? THE ANALYSIS YOU DID !!!! you Get It 🤍

this is so messy and i’ll try and get to everything — my life has been so hectic from my phone breaking to new meds that sedate me and now having a boyfriend who is so clingy that i don’t have a moment to get online and open tumblr / reply abdwbaknaksoa (not hating on him but DAMN !! i have to get back to my people 😭) anyways, I LOVE YOU SO FREAKING MUCH, KIPO !!!! 🤍☁️

small towns and their many churches like WHAT IS GOING ON !!! being a small country town girl myself i literally just imagined this setting as where im from bc its too easy !! like there’s not shit here but oh wait !!! there’s 10s of churches….

i believe that everyone can find a piece of themselves in this mc. she’s so me and i LOVE that so others can related to her as well </3 WE LOVE A CURIOUS AND VIOLENT GIRL SHES SO RAW AND BEAUTIFULLY HUMAN !!!

insane and dark sided is what i know best. had to do it to em 😞

I DIDNT REALIZE I MADE HER LIFE SO MISERABLE I WAS JUST LIKE YEAH LORE LORE !! THERES A REASON SHES LIKE THIS. and it’s straight depression LMAO

YES !!! I was heavily inspired by the Pearl, X, and Maxxxine trilogy. literally Pearl is one of my favorite movies and I was watching them back to back while writing this 😭 with Ethel Cain was playing so yeah it’s HEAVY in this story. I love that you realized this hehe <3 !!!

NOT THE WAKE UP AND DAY ONE 😭😭😭

UGH ZHAJSKAJAOWLAPAO HEHHEHE thank you so much my lovely sweet angel baby Kipo ): this paragraph of feedback literally feuls me and makes me want to keep going and improving. i cannot explain how much this means to me honestly <3 !!!!! i literally put my whole pussy into writing this fic and even reading it back im like how the hell did i do that.. how could i ever top this ??

I WILL PUBLISH A BOOK ONE DAY !!! (i scream through the tears and anxiety of actually sitting down and writing a whole book)

THE STUPID FUCK EVIL DAD WAS THE PROBLEM FROM THE START !!! there had to be a villain and he was it.. #NoRegrets

YES !!! i love your brain and critical thinking skills like thank you media literacy 🤧 !! the toxic environment mc grew up around with religious parents who are anything but holy yet portray a ‘perfect and clean’ simple life etc. my brain fog is so bad i can’t explain but i know you understand it perfectly I mean you clearly hit the nail on the details here 😭 ily ily ily AND NO YOURE NOT READING TOO MUCH INTO THINGS LIKE YOURE SO RIGHT AND PERFECT ABOUT EVERYTHING YOU COULD DO NO WRONG OMG KISS ME I MEAN WAIT—

coward mother and insane father = hot deranged socially underdeveloped daughter. i speak for all the people (not just daughters) of tumblr. like we’re all on here and none of us can possibly have perfect parents.. we’re here for a reason……….

SIDE NOTE MY FUCKING WIFI KEEPS CUTTING OUT AND I KEEP LOSING PLACE ON WHERE I AM SCROLLING ON MY LAPTOP IN THE REVIEW IM SO SORRY IF I MISS POINTS YOUR MAKING UGHHSHHSHAKSNAK

OMG YES MC MISTAKING HER OWN DESIRE FOR ANGER IS SUCH A HUGE PRESENCE THROUGHOUT THE STORY !! i don’t think many people noted that but I knew you’d come through ♥️

YOURE THE ONLY ONE WHO POINTED OUT THE MEANING OF THE FLOWERS BEING PURITY AND INNOCENCE AND HOPE OH MY GODDDD 😭♥️‼️ there’s meaning behind all my choices here holy fuck i adore you so bad you deserve the world

stop 😭😭 the singing in the reviews and every comment has me smiling or laughing LIKEEEE this is so fun hehe

I had to make a love story be dark and questionable. because honestly i feel like that’s how love has been for me my whole life. i always wondered if i was capable of being vulnerable around others and able to reciprocate kindness in the traditional relationship type way and i honestly just let it all here. like this is just me speaking through a fan fiction 😭😭 and im so beyond happy that others relate bc it gives a sense that it’s normal to feel this way. it’s still human to doubt and hate yourself bc of how life has treated you. i’m rambling and idk what im saying anymore *cries in corner*

THE LAMB !!! everything you said is *chefs kiss* I need to send you stickers and love letters and candies and all things sweet because Yes. i love symbolism and metaphors. i will eat it down every time. — the lamb, the blood and cleanse, the tears, the teachings and lessons of giving / stripping innocence or purity. she hates her father but cannot help but resemble him because it’s so ingrained into her. and sunghoon is NOT like the other lambs !!!! YES SAID IT !!!!!!!! he does challenge her and all the ways she never expected. they balance each other so well :( yin and yang, the sun and the moon. AND REDEMPTION!!! another big part of the story !!! SHUTUP KIPO :(( ♥️ i can’t.. you will be hand delivered a copy of this physical from me as well as 1 million dollars bc FUCKKK you just GET IT — i love your passion 🤓👆🏼

IM GIGGLING AT THE COMMENTS I CANTTT IM SMILING SO MUCH AAAHAHAHHHHHHHHH

i have such a strange relationship with religion. the jesus fandom ruined it for me 🙄 like why can’t we just enjoy the aesthetics and cool lines from the book. why are people so sick and twisted about it like it rules how we live our life?? i could say more but ill stick with that….

BEING UNCOMFORTABLE WITH COMFORT PEOPLE ‼️‼️ we exist ‼️‼️ and i will represent them 😏

ATTIC ANGEL REFERENCE !!! 📢 also I do imagine that this is the same universe and Jake before Attic Angel takes place…… i don’t remember all the details from AA but I know I mentioned a private religious college he went to and yes this is that. my multiverse. also noticed how HoP mc can always pinpoint a ‘bad’ man… she notices things — YOU ALSO CAUGHT THE OTHER SMALL JAKE REFERENCE !!! YESSSS everything has a purpose

YEP !! for the first time, during actual sex, SH isn’t crying but mc is�� oh how things change

I WAS DEADASS JUST USING MAXXXINE FOR INSPO HERE LIKEEEE “I KNOW NO PUNISHMENT, ONLY MERCY” is my just version of “I WILL NOT ACCEPT A LIFE I DO NOT DESERVE” HEHEHEHE

#UnlearnShame

My dear Kipo, I just read all of your kindness with the absolute biggest smile on my face. This means the entire world to me and it’s because of people like you that I believe I can pursue my dream of one day being a published author. I know this is ‘fanfiction’ but I truly do my very best whenever I write. I sometimes question if I take my ‘hobby’ too seriously or if i’m wasting time on something that may lead to nothing but when I read responses like yours it gives me hope that I can continue to do great things. I have such a passion for storytelling and it’s one of the only things i’ve ever loved doing and am actually proud of, so thank you. Thank you so so so freaking much for taking your time to not only read my story but also give such lengthy feedback. In genuinely gives me hope and happiness like no other. I love you so much not only for this but for inspiring me to get back into writing. (I will be front row and center of the stage for The Lighthouse rework because it’s truly that story.) I mean this with every fiber of my being that I owe it all to you. You’re not only a beautiful and talented soul, but an inspiration to many. Thank you, thank you, thank you. ♡ I wish I could show you how much this means to me the words aren’t enough i fear

and i’m sorry if i missed anything, having shitty wifi and a broken phone is fcking me rn :(

harvest of purity — sunghoon [ 박성훈 ]

pairing ⦂ sunghoon ⨯ fem. reader

synopsis ⦂ au in which an innocent, shy, and faithful sunghoon takes a summer job as a farmhand. he’s never indulged on his desires until the farmer’s daughter shows him a taste of sin. although riddled with guilt, he cannot deny or escape the new rousing feelings that impurify him. especially when she's set on ruining him every chance she gets.

genre ⦂ smut, slow burn romance, strangers to lovers word count ⦂ 29k tags ⦂ fluff and angst, repressed desires, innocence loss, guilt and shame, exploring relationships, falling in love, southern gothic vibes, summer au, clingy down bad sunghoon, ‘mean’ morally gray reader, both are weirdo loser freaks content advisory ⦂ mdni ! dark-ish content ⚠︎ sexually explicit content in four scenes: handjob, oral (m. rec.), dry humping, thigh fucking, unprotected sex, virginity loss, corruption!kink, degradation!kink, praise!kink, switch!hoon, he whines whimpers and cries; religious themes, concepts, corruption, and criticism; manipulation, animal death, blood, intense scenes, abusive parenting, gun mention and use

note ⦂ poured my heart out. i hope you love it as much as i do. dedicated to my other evil, off-putting, and/or weird girls┊reblogs and feedback encouraged ⇀ playlist ⸝⸝ masterlist 🌾

　You’re not sure what life in your small town was like before you were born. You can imagine it’s not too different from what it is now though. The thing about old country towns is they never seem to change. Open fields and miles of farmland. Two gas stations, one grocery store, a few family owned vegetable stands or in-home produce product shops. Only one notable neighborhood where the majority of the townspeople lived if not hidden somewhere else in the countryside. And too many churches to keep track of if the abandoned ones were included in the count. 

You like to think your parents were happy before you too. Hopeful and optimistic when offered to take over your uncle’s farm. Excited for the next step in their relationship after their marriage. They were the ideal family dream coming to life: high school lovers, engaged after graduation, married, a career handed to them through family with a large property of land and lovely farmhouse. All that was left was to grow that family. To have children to not only help tend the fields and animals but run around barefoot, all smiles, and wide eyed. 

You were positive that it was something they wanted. 

But life couldn’t have been that easy for them; it would’ve been too gratuitous of a blessing.

The day you were born, your father knew there was something greatly wrong with you. He claimed that on the day you ripped your mother open, screaming and crying, that God spoke to him for the first time. He called it divine intervention. Believing the birth of your soul was a red-herring of all that was set to come but God would show him the light, the truth: that you were nothing short of evil and needed saving. 

That year on the farm there was nothing but death. It only furthered your father’s harsh thinking of you. The crops and produce either died or rotted before it had the chance to grow or ripe. The animals were dropping dead from unknown illnesses. Every female livestock that gave birth passed in doing so. Barely any profits were made that year. Taxes were rising and so were the prices of nearly everything. It was a huge toll for your family, especially when raising their first child. Before you were even conscious of the situation everything was already deemed your fault. 

Through the harrowing struggle, your father’s optimism turned to resentment. He claimed that bringing you to the farm was not like bringing a daughter home, but a corrosive parasite. He believed that you were the reason for the life being sucked away from their perfect farm life. So, he turned to the only thing that he could trust to save the family from your curse: God. Begging and pleading through prayers every morning and night to the sky for a better season. 

He studied religion here and there before taking over his brother-in-law's farm but with the farm failing for the first time, he took a change of career paths. He was already well known among the locals, close with the church goers in the community. And somewhere along the way, he managed to start preaching himself. Nearly every christian in your town moved churches to follow where he went. Like sheep to a shepherd. 

If only they knew what you did, what he was truly like behind the closed doors of your home. How his devotion was turning to violence. Day by day, becoming uglier. 

While your father busied himself with his new found family, often away from home on the farm, the crops and animals began to thrive again. Slowly but surely, growing and regaining health. He would say it’s God’s doing, a small taste of His salvation. 

Your early years were mostly troubled by the relationship of your parents. Too young to fully understand their disputes, drawing at the kitchen table with their yelling sounding the house. It was always about you, that much you knew. Because you watch and you listen. Quick to learn that they tried for another child but never had any success. They wanted someone else to be their baby. Something that felt more like a blessing than you. Your father constantly spitting in your mother’s face that you were the rot to the fruit of her womb. And then he would always end up leaving by slamming the door and your mother would always join you at the table with tears and a bottle of wine. You always just watched, listening in silence. Perhaps just born resilient.

Growing up was different for you compared to most of the kids in your town. You never had the opportunity to make many friends being homeschooled. The only time that was spent around others your age was kindergarten. Kindergarten was short lived because of your behavior; the teachers at school were concerned about you. How you were mean, rough, and sinister with your actions towards others. Picking on the kids you were simply interested in because of how different from you they were. Drawing pictures of gutted cattle or dead, half developed baby chicks still in their shell and giving them as gifts to the teachers. Sharing to classmates the cruelty of farm life and why it was pretty with a smile. 

Your father loved to find out about this, you could see it in his eyes. The way they were wicked and screamed I told you so to your mother. You didn’t understand why it was bad or caused trouble. You were only having fun for the first time. The way the kids ran away crying or the teachers wore faces of shocked horror, it made your insides light up in joy. A new feeling—a sense of excitement. You didn’t know it was sick. And of course, it was taken from you. You were removed from school and your mother became your teacher. Your classmates became stuffed animals and the real ones in the barns. It was hard for you to find that joy you briefly felt with others. 

Sometimes you had a glimpse of it again when your father would punish you. But even that you grew sick of. The mess, the stench of it all. Sticky and red, worse in the heat of summer. He drilled the sick moto for his actions into your head, “I know no punishment, only mercy.”

Father took you both to church more often after that. He had a false image to uphold afterall, one of a happy, God loving family. In his ego he had to prove that his preaching and prayers could fix you, save you. But that was only admitted at home, loud and scary to your mother. Your poor mother, weak and defensive of you, eventually waved her white flag. You wished she kept fighting for you and that she wouldn’t begin to see you the way your father did. 

Childhood and adolescence was a string of questions about yourself. Never quite finding out what made you so bad to be seen as devilish when all you thought of yourself was curious. Perhaps just unlucky to be correlated with negative happenings on and off the farm, always gone without a chance of understanding. Despite it all, you knew well enough the way your parents talked and looked at you was without unconditional love. 

On your 17th birthday, the family dynamic made the biggest shift to be experienced. 

At this age, you had such a strong sense of independence and with the lack of parental guidance and monitoring, you would leave town when you could. Ride your bike down the long road to the bus stop at the center of town and take the bus into the city over. Your mother was generous with allowance and you saved your money well, only spending it on books or trips to the movie theater. A form of escape that allowed you to learn more about the world and all the things your parents tried to keep hidden from you. A way to learn how to be human. 

So when your father was tearing your room apart in search of the same gift he re-gifts you every year, he found some things that made his stomach churn. Every year for your birthday he rewrapped the same, first ever, bible he’d given you. Funny enough that he gave you anything at all considering he never even referred to it as your day, only his day of revelation. And to his disgust, on his sacred day, he found books and journals of explicitly detailed copulation and debauchery. 

He almost fainted. Stumbling over his own feet, hands shaking as he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the words on the pages. That was the only time you smiled on that day. Just for a second. And then a glimpse of hell broke loose. 

In a rage, he destroyed everything. Your mother stood next to you in tears, telling him to stop and stop. Her hands covered her face but she saw everything through her fingers. You only watched in silence, hands balled in fists by your side. A silent hatred and anger coursed in you. He called you names that no man of God should, especially to his own daughter. 

“You’re a disgraceful deviant of Satan! I should’ve known. My own day of revelation is a curse!” You watched him rip pages apart, his voice booming through the house. “Years spent praying for you and this is how you turn out?! Succumbing to nothing but a dreaming whore?!”

A part of you liked his mean words. It was so rare for him to use such colorful language. 

You knew what would come next. He was going to have you ‘cleansed’. Something he always did when he discovered something new and sacrilegious of you. 

But it didn’t come. Because there was no dying, old sheep on the farm at the time. He did make a promise to not forget though. A promise to have you washed in sacrificial, blessed blood on a day you least expected. 

Your father left after that, leaving you and your mother behind. He moved to the city to continue his preaching at a larger church. He became known as the closest reverend to God for miles and miles. Lost in his ways, he only made visits when he needed to sort things out for the business of the farm.

You were content with his departure, yet couldn’t quite understand why your mother missed him. As far as you’ve seen, he was never kind towards either of you. 

　But now, it’s several years later. And although you’re free of your father’s heavy presence and homilies, he still makes his trips to the farm. You can feel the air change whenever he does, as if you’ve gained a sixth sense for his coming. Naturally intuitive to things having spent your childhood walking on eggshells in your own home. 

And today, the air feels particularly chill for summer. The breeze sweeps in through your open window. The forecast called for nothing but sunshine all week, yet there’s an angry, dark cloud hanging over your farm. A foreboding feeling shivers through you, and you know he’s going to fulfill his promise today. You sigh and slide out of bed. “Let’s get this over with.”

You spend the morning doing your usual routine. Brushing teeth, washing your face, then dressing in farm work attire. Your breakfast consists of tea and your mothers homemade strawberry scone. Next is tending to the animals. Your mother usually takes care of the crops and gardening. It’s a quiet and early morning, as most are. The both of you keep to yourselves, just doing what needs to be done day by day. 

The sound of a car is heard coming down to the long dirt road and you know who it is by the sound. It’s a fancier vehicle than the one he left this property with years ago. A meaner part of you likes to think his greedy hands got into that mega church’s donations but you’re too self aware of the successful farm your family owns. 

Your father parks in front of the house and your mother is quick to rush over to him, presumably with many questions: How have you been? Are you hungry? Thirsty? What brings you here so early in the month? 

You roll your eyes at her desperation to cling onto the relationship that clearly ended when you were a child. 

You place a hand on your hip, leaning your weight to the side that isn’t carrying the heavy bucket of chicken feed. Walking away from the coops and back towards the shed by the house, you make eye contact with your father despite only taking a glance. 

He watches you with narrow eyes from the lowered window of the car he’s still sitting in, very much not listening to a word your mother is saying. 

He calls your name before you can open the shed. Spinning on the heels of your boots, you turn around with raised brows of questioning. 

He mouths the words sacrificial tree as he exits the car. Your mother sees this. She wears pained disappointment as she scurries away. Presumably to the barn where the sheeps and lambs are kept. She might as well be a sheep too, you think. 

The bucket slips from your fingers and drops to the patchy dirt grass by your feet with a thud, spilling over in a mess that will be cleaned later. 

You don’t bother giving him a nod of understanding. You just turn around and begin your walk to the tree line where the man made path is. Knowing it would take some time for his preparations, you walk to the lake that’s hidden behind the farmland. 

It’s a brief walk through your familiar woods. Once at the short wooden dock, you sit down at the end, taking in the gloomy summer scenery. A light fog hugs over the water. You bring your knees to your chest, in your sitting position, and hug yourself the same way. 

This is your favorite place out of all the land your family owns. It’s serene, mostly. Always quiet. You’re the only one who comes here. And it’s nice to swim with when the weather warrants it. There’s a feeling here that’s hard to feel anywhere else you find yourself. Sometimes you imagine what it would be like with someone else, but you doubt it would be as nice. Trouble has a way of following you, it seems. You frown at the thought. 

It’s silent like this for a few minutes, just you trying to find a sense of calmness before the impending chastisement. Then you hear some rustling of leaves, heavy footsteps following. You don’t turn around yet, you only wait for the call of your name. Your time of tranquility is too brief. You sigh before giving yourself a squeezing hug. 

“It’s time,” the reverend calls out loudly, “quickly now, we have new farmhands arriving soon.” The sound of his feet walking away is when you stand. You wave a goodbye to the foggy lake before parting ways. Your feet move unconsciously, taking to where your body knows to go. 

Leaves crinkle underneath your boots and twigs snap. The trees’ branches sway in the gentle morning breezes that pass. 

In the mix of the small forest, man made crosses of sticks or plywood are spaciously scattered. Like a graveyard to all your bad doings. Most small but one large. Old rotted wood that stands crooked and begging to fall over right next to the largest, strongest tree. Your eyes, that are trained to ground, move upwards the cross and then to the tree. Your father stands there with a large knife in hand. Your mother waits cautiously not too far away. Her demeanor is frightful as if this is the first time. Coward.

An old sheep hangs by its hind legs from a sturdy tree branch. Unmoving and defenseless. Big beady, dumb eyes look in all directions but you. You think it must feel the same guilt as yourself, sorry that its life purpose is to embarrass you, make you hate what you are. 

“God told me to make a sacrifice to prove my faith. He guides my hand in washing your soul clean of sin. So here I am with our blessed, dying lamb.” He’s said this every time. His voice is always miserably rehearsed and preacher-esque. 

You thought long ago that this was their, the lambs, only use on the farm. It’s a shame. All that devotion has made him so ugly and violent. 

You make small steps closer to the lamb. It’s whining in bleat baas and mehs. Does it know what’s happening? Is it scared? You like the lambs, sheeps. Pure white, soft, and docile. They never fight back. They just take it. I doubt they need restraints. You could hold them above me just the same and they’d never resist. 

“Move faster, for the love of God. Yeah, stand right there underneath like you know how to.” He instructs you, annoyed. His patience running thin as the distant sounds of a truck makes way down the dirt road to the farm property. 

“Okay…” You don’t fight him, with arms crossed behind your back and a hand squeezing around your own wrist, you move closer. Maybe you’re a lamb too. 

Maybe all your father really was is the executioner. 

He raises the knife as he begins to speak, it slides over its cotton, white throat but does not cut, “Revelation 7:13-17 Then he told me, ‘These are those who come from the great tribulation, and they’ve washed their robes, scrubbed them clean in the blood of the Lamb. That’s why they’re standing before God’s Throne. They serve him day and night in his Temple. The One on the Throne will pitch his tent there for them: no more hunger, no more thirst, no more scorching heat. The Lamb on the Throne will shepherd them, will lead them to spring waters of Life. And God will wipe every last tear from their eyes.’” He slits its throat in a quick, harsh movement. The blood spills just as fast, squirting spurts of red before it comes pouring down onto you. “Face up,” you obey even though it brings you rage, “it ought to cleanse those unholy thoughts I know that are still in there.” 

Head raised to the sky with eyes and mouth squeezed shut, you let it consume you. Warm, thick and wet washes down from your head onto your clothes then down to your feet. The smell of animal, metallic iron covers you. It’s sticking to your hair, eyebrows and lashes. You can already feel your clothes clinging to your skin in the dirtiest ways. 

You stand there, drenching in the its blood. Your father speaks again, firm and slow, “Say it with me now, ‘I know no punishment, only mercy.’” All you feel is the animal’s rain of life flooding you.

You open your mouth to speak but are quick to spit and cough out the blood that manages to get into your mouth. Smack. 

“I don’t have time for this,” his voice sounds like an echo, your head is ringing from the harsh swing of his hand. The skin of your cheek stings. He hits like a bitch, you think. “Say it with me now, dammit!” You can feel him wipe his bloodied hand on the side of your shirt. 

You step back from under the red shower. “I know no punishment, only mercy.” Your words align with his in the perfect paced harmony you’re trained to do so. Enunciated, slow and strong, through gritted teeth.

There’s a beat of silence before the sound of your parents footsteps walking away. 

Standing there in red, yet to open your eyes, you breathe out a shaky sigh of defeat. It sounds more like a growl. With the mostly clean hands you kept safely behind you, you bring them up to wipe the blood from your face. You don’t dare to look at the dead animal in front of you. Being covered in it is enough alone to make you feel sick. 

You think of going back to the lake, jumping in and letting the blood wash off you there, but knowing you’d either walk back with further drenched clothes or naked didn’t seem like options you wanted to deal with either. So you just head back to the house. It’s a slower walk than need be, but you just felt like avoiding the eyes of the newcomers, hoping they’d be off in the fields or in a barn by the time you walk through. You feel numb. 

You’re wrong though, by the time you’re passing the barns and coops, the group of new farmhands are already lined up outside the horses’ stable. Your mother is talking to them, although not all are paying attention. Only a few pairs of wide eyes follow you. Catching the sight of you must really shock them but you can’t blame them. Something about this makes you excited. You stop in your tracks and look around to see if your father’s car is gone. It is. The realization feels like a wave of relief and it suddenly feels brighter outside already. 

You take a glance down to your disheveled appearance. Shirt, pants, and boots painted like the barns. You look back to the group, brushing the soiled hair back from your face. Some pieces stay stuck, in the early stages of drying against your skin.

It’s safe to have a little fun. 

You begin a slow walk over to the group. You take a headcount and there’s five of them. Two younger men, closer to your age. The other three look a bit older, not by much but definitely older. Your mother is yet to turn around from whatever rundown she’s giving them. Too dense to even recognize that now none of them were paying any attention to her. 

You creep up beside her and open with, “Hello,” your voice is louder than even you’ve heard it be in a long time. It’s nice to be heard, noticed. You usually avoided the farmhands, but this summer was going to be different. You decided this on the walk over. 

Being cooped up on the farm for so long made you different, it’s obvious to anybody. Not properly socialized in your developmental years caused you to be an anomaly to the ones who did come across you. Enigmatic from far away and up close. Now isn’t the greatest example though, the situation is too clear as to why. 

Your mother turns to you, gasping and jumping back slightly in the shock of your gross state and sudden introduction. “My goodness, girl, whatta ya doin’ here like this?” Her voice is hushed, clearly unsettled with the situation. 

They all just stare at you, open mouthed and bewildered. You take the time to get a good look at each of them up close. Your eyes follow their faces individually down the line. And then they stop. 

At the end of the line is a man more beautiful than the ones you’ve seen in the movies. You feel stuck in time, left with parted lips, staring at the man before you. And far too intently for your character. He stands tall, sharp, pale, and elegant. What is a boy like this doing here? He averts his eyes from you, clearly uncomfortable by what’s before him. He looks uneasy, shifting his weight foot to foot with his hands behind his back. His pretty eyes glance around from you to your mother to the other men and the ground. He simply doesn’t know what to do with himself. You find it dangerously darling of him. 

You don’t even realize the small smile that takes your lips. You step closer to him and he steps back, now looking at you with wide eyes of small fear. You extend your hand to him, it’s coated in drying blood. He gulps and the sight, his adam’s apple bobbing in such a biteable neck stirs something in you. This will be far more fun than you intended. 

You say your name softly for introduction and step a little closer, “Nice to meet you," you feign cuteness as much as you can, looking up at him through your blood clumped lashes. It’s clear to everyone there is something off; there’s little to no real emotion behind your voice and face. 

Your mother eyes you suspiciously as you corner the handsome man, but she says nothing. Sometimes she fears you too. 

He looks from your eyes to your hand, having an internal battle with himself on what to do, “Ah, I am Sunghoon... Nice to meet you too.” His politeness must be stronger than his frighteness, because he takes his hand in yours and shakes it gently. His hand is large in yours, nearly covering it entirely. You squeeze it hard, your eyes never leaving his, trapping him in the scene. 

He wants to look away, to hide somewhere. The way his skin crawls tells him he’s a prey already in the mouth of a predator. And you know he’s nervous under your intense gaze because your hand feels like a lamb is still bleeding above you. His palms are sweating, and it’s nowhere near hot enough for that yet. Your smile grows to a smirk. 

Although you’re wearing the lamb, having Sunghoon’s hand in yours made you feel like a wolf. 

　Sunghoon’s first day of his summer job starts off duller than he imagined. The sun isn’t out this morning and it only intensifies his anxiousness, as if the grey skies reflect his inner emotions. He’s already new to the area, away from home and staying in an apartment not far from his college in the city. A private, christian school that he studied hard to get into with his friend. He wishes his best friend and roommate, Jake, was joining him in this job, but Jake already had plans to teach at a summer soccer camp for kids through their school. 

He found this opportunity through the college church they attend together. A reverend from another church in the city came to visit one Sunday, handing out flyers to the young men in hopes of finding farm help. The pay is good and the bus fairs to the small town over where the farm’s located is covered. He’s never done work like it before, nevertheless was he going to let a simple offer pass him up. 

Things are going smoothly to start, being told how to care for, clean, and feed the animals to crop preservation. Everyone would have their own specific roles on the farm. Sunghoon was assigned the easier of the tasks, either feeding animals or watering and fertilizing the vegetables and fruits crops. He learns there are already regular farm workers that would come throughout the week to collect produce, material, and use the machinery for the more laborious work. And if she wasn't around when needed then they could ask any of the regular employees for assistance or find her at the house. 

As the farm owner is about to give details on the horses’ maintenance, a girl saunters in. And the anxious feelings become of Sunghoon all over again. His eyes are wide, taking in her appearance. The smell of the farm dissipates and putrid copper takes over. The worst part is how calm she appears, and the fact that she’s unbothered with all that she wears. 

He thinks his brain short circuits, everything seeming muffled and unreal. He doesn’t even realize he introduced himself or touched her. It all was too quick and unfamiliar for him to grasp. 

He watches as she walks away, back to the house that sits slightly over the hills and valleys of the property. His expression is blank, blinking slowly at the strange girl then down to his hand that’s stained red too. 

“Don’t pay her no mind,” the woman speaks up, she sounds as if she’s warning them. “Just get yer work done and when everyone’s finished y’all can head back home. I won’t ask too much of ya in yer first month here, alright? That might be a different story later.” She tries to end the statements in humor with her forced laugh. 

Sunghoon nods but his eyes don’t leave his dirty hand. The other men nod along too and give their ‘yes, ma’ams’ in return. 

The woman continues walking them around the farm, listing rules and guidelines they must follow, along with advice and tips for the work they’ll be doing. 

The day flows as easy as it can for Sunghoon. He doesn’t talk much with the other farmhands. He also doesn’t know them well enough to be comfortable in their conversations, so he just exists in awkward silence, sometimes reacting. While they can joke around and find fun in the work, his mind keeps wandering off to the girl from earlier, to you. How your empty eyes held onto his and small hand even tighter. He thinks the palm of his hand still burns from the interaction. 

Around the afternoon time, Sunghoon and the guys are sitting around a picnic table near the house. The sun is beating down on them all now while they chug down water and eat their lunch. The owner was kind enough to provide their refreshments and meals. They were all thankful. 

She adds that there’s a small lodge up the dirt road. It’s a little old but homey and has space with two spare bedrooms if they need to wash up or rest at any time. It was originally built for the farm workers that worked late and needed a place to stay if need be. 

Once done, the boys stand up and talk about what they have left to do. The next bus back to the city isn’t running for another two hours so they speak of taking some leisure time and exploring the farm property. Meanwhile Sunghoon is still sitting, watching them huddled in conversation. He wipes some sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand as they begin walking towards the fields.

Sunghoon, taking what the farm owner had mentioned previously, decides that he’d like to stay inside to get away from the beating sun for a while. So he gathers his trash to throw away in the bin by the road near the house’s mailbox and begins his walk to the lodge. 

Once inside he takes in the rustic, outdated furniture. It’s a little dusty and the floorboards creak beneath his feet but he finds it somewhat comforting. The living space has two couches by an old stone fireplace, a center table with board games and cards, a kitchenette, and a large dining table with enough space to seat six people. 

The decor is very farmers-life-esque. From a cow print rug in the small kitchen area to the antlers mounted on the wall near the dining table. There’s scenic southern paintings hung up along with antique crosses and prints of bible verses, all adoring the faded and peeling floral wallpaper. Above the fireplace hangs a painting depicting Jesus healing a blind man. 

He walks down the only short hall in the lodge to find the two spare bedrooms the woman had mentioned along with a bathroom. He takes this time to wash his hands thoroughly and splash some cold water on his face. With his hands resting on the sink, he stares at himself in the mirror. The cold drops of water slip down his face, jaw, and back into the sink. 

In his mind he’s questioning whether or not he’s sure of this job. It’s all too different from what he knows and he can’t help but feel out of place here. With a sigh, he drops his head and watches the water slip down the sink. 

He jumps slightly at the sudden sound of the front door opening and closing, not expecting the others to join him here quite yet. No noise follows the action for a moment, not even footsteps. Then there’s the sound of a click, like the door is being locked. He straightens his posture and peaks out the bathroom door, listening for their voices or any sound other than silence. It offers nothing to him so he begins to feel tense. 

“Hello?” Sunghoon calls out skittishly, but there’s no response. His heart rate picks up a little and he starts to think the boys are trying to pull some sort of childish prank on him. He leaves the room and makes slow steps down the hallway to the main area of the lodging house. 

As he rounds the corner he doesn’t find any of the boys there though, he just sees you. His heart jumps at the realization. Sitting on the couch, in overall shorts and nothing else. Bare legs crossed and hands against the couch by your sides as you watch him peer around the corner with apprehension. You’re  just sitting there, leaning forward and waiting for him to come find you. 

Cowardly, Sunghoon makes a half turn. He presses his back against the wall of the hallway as if he could hide away or disappear into it. He even closes his eyes, thinking of a quick prayer to save him from this circumstance. 

“Are you pretending to be shy or are you really this cute?” Your voice is teasing, and he can hear the wicked smile in it without seeing. 

Feeling caught, he just sighs and slowly makes his way to the living area. He tries not to look at you, thinking you are too revealing. So he looks everywhere else and then to large windows that give view to the farm; none of the guys are in sight. Most likely somewhere goofing off. All he can see is the fields and farm buildings standing large in the distance. 

He doesn’t move and speaks softly, “I should probably go find the others-”

You speak before he can finish his attempt of an excuse, “Come sit with me.” You pat the space on the couch next to yourself. Your voice sounds welcoming but he knows there’s an undertone of mischief. 

He makes a quick glance to you and sucks in a breath at the view of your body that’s exposed from your overalls. The glimpse of the curve of your breast disappearing under the denim already makes him feel like he’s seen too much of you. And he has. He’s never seen such bare skin on a girl and he’s never been alone in a room with one either. 

“Come sit with me, now.” You’re more stern this time, demanding in a gentle way. Your hand makes small movements, soothing over the material of the couch like you’re warming the space for him. 

He visibly swallows as he makes his hesitant steps over to you. His heart is racing and with every beat there is a question of his strength. He sits down on the same sofa but not directly next to you like you want. You smirk nonetheless and turn to face him, sitting with your legs criss-cross now. 

With your elbows to your knees you hold your head in your hands, watching the side of his face. You’re again realizing how sculpted his features are. Dark thick hair on his head, eyebrows and lashes too. An array of moles sprinkle his pale face. A sharp nose that sits above pink, full lips. You wonder if he knows of his own beauty. It’s fascinating to see such a person like him in front of you. 

He’s sitting with perfect posture, not relaxing into the couch. Alert like a deer that’s waiting for too sudden of movement to pounce away. His eyes just watch the table, reading through the names of the board games that lay there as a way of distracting himself. He’s awkward. 

“Uhm… d-does your family own this farm?” he tries for small talk to break the silence. His bottom lip finds itself between his teeth as he makes one quick look over to you. Luckily your overalls sit high up or he’d have a full view of your chest. He can’t help but think of the fact and it makes him shift uncomfortably. 

“Do I make you nervous?” you question, seriously so. Brows pulled tight in a furrow with a straight face. You lean in even closer to him, watching for every change on his face. 

“Yes,” his response is honestly quick and ends with a tight lip, like he’s holding his breath. He is yet to comprehend what is happening, still in a whirlwind of thoughts of what could—will—happen. 

“Why?” Your head tilts slightly to the side, it makes him think of his roommate briefly. And man does he wish he were here to ease the tension. 

He doesn’t want to admit that he’s never been in such close proximity with a girl alone before, so he just clears his throat and remains quiet after doing so. 

Curiously, you bring a hand up with a pointed finger and brush the tip of it over the mole on the side of his nose. He jolts back at the sudden touch, his cheeks flushing a warm pink. His eyes now watch you with gentle confusion. He touches the same spot you did with a trembling hand. 

“You have a constellation on your face. So many moles… Do you have a girlfriend?” 

His face burns a little more, both from the observation and the question. He shakes his head, sitting himself further into the couch and further away from you. He can’t quite understand the situation. Are you messing with him? You seem too serious for such. Maybe you’re just weird like he initially thought. Either way he can feel his faith slipping; he is cupping holy water in hands during an earthquake. 

“Did I do somethin’ wrong? Am I not pretty?” You pout to be playful with him, acting as if his actions are offending you. He takes it literally though. 

“No!” his hands rest on his knees and he holds them hard, trying to find stability despite sitting down. “Y-you are… pretty,” his words grow quieter, like he’s sharing a secret. “I just don’t know you or why you want to talk to me.” 

“Hm.” You lean your head back against the couch. With your eyes still on his face, you speak just as quietly, “I’m still trying to figure that out too.” After some beats of muted air you speak up again, but with more presence, “You came to work here. Why?” 

“A man was handing out flyer ads at the church. I wanted a summer job.” 

Is he always this direct and boring? And church, of fucking course. You roll your eyes, pushing yourself off the back cushion and even closer to the man. Your knees touch the side of his body and his thigh. He looks like he’s trying to control his breathing, to feign lack of disturbance, but his face says everything you need to know. 

You place a hand on his thigh and his whole body stiffens at the action. Your smirk to yourself. It’s only resting there on the top of his jeans. “You act like a girl has never touched you before.” You give him a soft squeeze and he sucks in a sharp breath. “Well? Has a girl ever touched you?” 

He shakes his head quickly, “No,” he breaks, feeling overwhelmed and wrong, “and I don’t think you should be. It’s against the churches values-”

“At your age you still follow the rules?” Your hand slides lower and back up his thigh, it’s a slow and teasing motion. There’s enjoyment in how scared he’s becoming. 

Sunghoon knows that this is only going to lead him down a path he swore to God not to take. And if his parents were to know that in his first year away from home in the summer since college was locked in a lodge with a promiscuous girl he’d have it handed to him. The thought of their wrath makes him shiver all the more. 

“I just don’t want to sin.” His eyes close and he bites down onto his lip again. He no longer cares if a stranger sees him as a loser or prude. His virtue is being tested in real time, and he’s feared facing this battle many times in the night because even in his dreams he loses. 

“I’m only touching you. How is it a sin?” The tone of your voice changes, it’s soft like the hand that moves closer to in between his thighs. Your fingertips press into his clothed skin here and there, curiously feeling him up. You just try to get a reaction out of him. There’s a warm feeling in your stomach that you don’t recognize; it’s faintly familiar. 

“Your hand isn’t supposed to be… there.” He makes a strained sound, something like a low whine, as your hand ghosts over his cock. 

You look down to your movements for the first time and realize he’s sporting a half chub. You snicker quietly, cupping him in your palm. “Then why are you getting hard, Sunghoon? Do you like the way I’m touching you? I bet you’ve thought about doing this before too.” 

He makes another noise, a whimper. He can’t bring himself to open his eyes and accept what’s happening. He also can’t find it in himself to stop you, or get up and leave. This wasn’t just a struggle with evil’s temptation but his own biological nature. Something yet to be explored, something that’s been scratching at his ribcage for years to be fed. 

There’s too much he can’t admit in this moment. Starting with how he enjoys the sound of your voice, the slight accent and dialect difference he picks up. How the way his name leaves your lips makes him want to crumble like a burning church. And how he silently likes the fact he can’t control the way his body is reacting to your hands on him. 

It’s all wrong, wrong, wrong. And he is weak.

“Answer me, Sunghoon.” Your hand presses down on him, feeling the growing hardness under your palm. You give him a small squeeze, massaging over the bulge. To your surprise he feels big. Your eyebrows quirk at this and then you look back to his face. A single tear runs down his face and you find satisfaction in it. “Lying is a sin too,” you remind him. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his hands fist the couch cushions at his sides. He grips the material so tight that his knuckles turn pink through the pale of his skin. His chest rises and falls through slow and deep breaths. 

“You shouldn’t feel sorry for something that makes you feel good.” You palm over him a few more times, drawing out little moans and whimpers from him. He’s struggling to sit still. You can even feel him try not to push his hips back up into you; if only he would admit that he wants it. He’s practically pulsing beneath you, like there’s never been such a rush of blood to his cock in his life. You sigh dramatically and pull your hand away from him, sitting back to give him space. “That’s too bad. A good dog will always be loyal, huh?”

His eyes shoot open when he feels your hand is gone. He looks at you desperately with wet eyes, a small pout to his lips. You make him feel sick for wanting to ask why you stopped, or if he did something bad for you to take away his short-lived pleasure. 

You smirk at his expression, so pitifully beautiful with want. “Have you ever touched yourself?” you ask, placing your hand over his that hasn’t let go of the couch. It takes you back when he flips his hand around to hold onto yours, clingy and wretched. His thumb brushes over your knuckles. Repulsed, you react quickly and take your hand away from him at his impulsive intimacy. It makes him frown with a meek whimper. 

He shakes his head slowly, looking down to his lap. “I can’t.” He knows he’s not allowed to. His father was adamant through his puberty that he mustn’t succumb to his body’s natural taste for sin. He was told that sometimes the devil had a funny way of sneaking into a man’s mind. That Satan would haunt boys in their sleep to wake them up with guilt of uncontrollable lust to be like him. 

“But you like when I do it, right?” You rest your head on his shoulder and look up at him. His eyes look from your face to the thin opening of your overalls where your chest can be seen from the angle. He bites down hard and nods slowly. You coo, moving your hand back to his still hard, clothed cock. “I can make it go away if you want. You want that?” 

He’s battling all the repressed things he’s been too afraid to explore; fearful of the swing of his parents belt he felt once long ago after being caught in a misunderstanding. In spite of it, he nods again. “It hurts.. Please, help me.” His voice is so quiet. Even he doesn’t want to hear his own pathetic begging. 

Your fingers find the zipper of his jeans then you tug it down slowly as you stare at him. “You have to pull them down for me, okay? I can’t help you with just this.”

Sunghoon freezes for a second knowing he has control over being the one to take out his own cock. Yet apprehension leaves in a breath. Then he’s pulling the clothing down to his knees with frantic haste. You didn’t expect him to take everything off so fast but there’s a sense of pride in how eager you’ve made him become in such a short time. 

You weren’t sure what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t this. His cock is as beautiful as him. Pale and raging pink, crying at the tip much like his eyes. He’s also big, bigger than you knew dicks could be. You thought they’d be ugly, gross and worm-like. But his is clean and pretty. It’s your first time seeing one in person; you wouldn’t let him know that. 

You take him bare in your hands, feeling him like a foreign object. More curious of his body than in his pleasure in the moment. His body tenses then relaxes against the couch. A shaky, breathy moan leaves his lips. His eyes flutter at the contact of skin. 

You squeeze him, making his moan weakly again. It’s heavy in your hand. Truly just a stick of warm flesh. A part of you wants to squeeze him as hard as you can just to see if it can break, but you withhold on hurting him for now. Not wanting to scare him too much in hopes of exploring him further through the summer. 

Your hand wraps around the length as much as it can, pads of fingertips brushing over every vein and curve as you slowly move your hand up and down. When your thumb circles around his tip and flicks the leaking hole, his body lurches forward with a loud cry of a moan from him. You wonder if he’ll cum in the next few seconds of simply touching him. 

“I think you’re a slut for a little pleasure, Sunghoon.” You use your palm to gather his precum, circling over the tip to smear the thick cream around. Then you drag it back down himself, wetting his cock in his own prerelease. It slides easier now, your hand. You move faster, jerking him off in lazy, inexperienced motions. Not that he would know anyways. “You gave into lust so easily, didn’t you? Must’ve wanted this for so long. Your body’s nasty, eager for it.”

In his ears, you make the nasty words sound delicious. And he wants to devour more and more, like the starved man he is. His hips snap up into your hard, sudden and rough. You wrap your free arm over his shoulders, a hand sneaking up into his hair to tug aggressively on the thick dark locks. You’re pulling his head back, forcing him to look at you. “Don’t be a whore. I’m helping you. I didn’t say fuck my hand.” 

“Ahsh- I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” he whines, tears burning his eyes, “it, it f-feels good. I feel so good.” His head falls to lean against yours, face burying into your hair. His head makes little shakes as he begins to cry, telling himself no, no. 

“Shut up...” You don’t like how close he is to you. You only like doing so to tease him, but when he does it, it makes you feel a fiery anger in your chest and belly. Uncomfortable. Smothering.

Your hand works in sloppy motions. Pumping his pulsing cock to reach his orgasm. At the tip your wrist makes flicks with your thumb, working him up further and further. 

He stutters out incoherent apologies into your hair throughout his sobs of wanton, whimpering moans. Everything about his body is sensitive to the new sensations. He can’t help but move his hips up into your hand, humping the small fist that’s fucking down onto him. 

Confused by the warm, tight feeling flexing of his abdomen he whines against you, “I can’t- I can’t take it. My body feels weird now. Mmph, ‘m sorry. I don’t know what’s h-happening.” His body feels volcanic, ready to burst. 

You continue your movements, jerking his reflexing length until he’s cumming into your hand. It’s a heavy load of thick, creamy mess. His voice is too close to your ear as he moans a drawn out needy sound. Your face remains plain while you pump him until he’s milked dry. His body flinches and curls into yours through the aftershocks, clearly overstimulated and over-sensitive. His arms snake around your waist to pull you against him.  

You stare down at your hand that was earlier covered in the blood of a lamb and now the cum of a virgin. It looks like fucking snot, you realize with repulse. Without thinking you bring your hand up and lick the strange release. Your face scowls at the unknown taste so you just wipe the rest on your overalls. “You are disgusting,” you mutter. 

Sunghoon remains silent aside from his sniffles, eyes peeking through his bangs to watch what you’re doing. He still hasn’t stopped clinging to your side, as if you could save him from his first lustful sin. 

You push yourself up and off the couch, his body slightly falls to the side where he was leaning on you but he catches himself. He watches you with sad, scared eyes. You stare blankly in return then look out the window to see the group of men walking around the picnic table they ate at earlier. 

“Farmhands will be leaving soon. Clean yourself up in the bathroom.” You don’t spare him another look, you just walk to the front door, unlock it, and leave. You ignore the way he looked like a sad abandoned puppy. Something about it angered you in the same way he was being clingy. 

You walk back to your house with a slight skip to your steps. As you step through your front door, you’re about to head upstairs to your room but stop in your tracks because your mother speaks.

“Hate him all ya want,” your mothers words slur, she speaks slowly and tired-like, “but he was a good man. He used to love me… And then you came along.” You turn to the living room on your left where your mother lays on the couch, wine glass in hand and eyes heavy lidded. “I know what yer capable of. I’ve seen the things ya do on this farm, in this home.. When ya think no one is watching.. He just might be right about you.” You glare at her now. “There is something evil in ya, child. Leave that boy outta yer wickedness.” 

Her wine glass falls to the floor from her fingers and she groans, turning to her side. You stare at her for a moment before walking up to your room. 

Meanwhile Sunghoon spends his next 20 minutes in a spiral of guilt and shame. He cleans himself up in the restroom like you told him to. Then waits, watching outside the window for when the boys are gathered around the truck they drove in from the bus stop to leave in. It was hard for him to get the tears to end. He fell right into sin’s lustful trap and it made him feel so- No, it only made him feel hurt. Stupid. Bad. 

On his bus ride back into the city he prays. Sitting in back, alone with his indignity, and head bowed low so no one could see his red rimmed, glossy eyes. Time goes by so fast that he nearly misses his stop to get off. 

He ignores his roommate when he’s home. Jake, excited and curious of Sunghoon’s first day, is left cold. Sunghoon showers for longer than usual. He scrubs so harshly at his skin he turns red; unable to feel clean no matter how much he washes. He doesn’t eat dinner because he feels he doesn’t deserve to. He gets into bed earlier than most days too. He tries to sleep but the day haunts him, keeping him awake. 

He’s up all night in tears, face in his pillow with the blanket thrown over his head, trying to hide from He who watches. The begs of forgiveness seem endless. 

“Dear God,” he whimpers, “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” He doesn’t sleep much that night because he can’t find it in himself to stop humping into his mattress in hopes to chase and achieve the feeling you gave him earlier. His hips rock his aching hard cock into the bed, anguished yet titillated. “Please, forgive me. Forgive me. I’m so sorry.” He continues to cry, drowning in his pillow, knowing he will do it again. 

　The next day on the farm is an early morning for everyone. Sunghoon sits quietly in the truck with the other summer volunteer farmharms. They talk amongst each other about the day’s schedule of duties and tasks. He struggles to keep his eyes open, head leaning against the window despite its bumps from the uneven dirt road. He thought about calling it quits on the whole job after yesterday, but couldn’t bring himself to. It’s for selfish reasons too. The ones that deepen his guilt. 

The arrival to the farm is quicker than anticipated. Sunghoon forces himself to be more alert and awake, starting to pick up on the conversations between the others as he exits the parked truck. 

“Do you think it’s still hanging there?” One says. “The lamb of slaughter?” Another dumbly asks with a snort. “Well yeah, dipshit. You guys think that girl did it? She was weird as hell.” A third voice chimes in, “Being covered in blood and then leaving a dead animal hanging from a tree is creepy as fuck. The lady was right, stay the hell away from her.” He laughs. The others walk away in continuous chatter, leaving Sunghoon by the truck. 

Sunghoon is confused by this conversation and deeply disturbed. He doesn’t follow or press them with questions though. But it will give him much to think about for the day. He’s so exhausted from the lack of sleep, he wonders if he even heard them all correctly at all. Yeah, your whole introduction was strange but killing an animal and acting like nothing happened and then toying with him on the same day? Was all that really something a girl like you would do? He can’t say for sure because he doesn’t know you. 

He goes about his morning tasks lazily. His mind is too busy with the thoughts of you. He thinks of when or if he’ll see you today. You haven’t shown around the farm all day. It’s only an hour before noon, he tries to rationalize with himself. He still ponders throughout his work. What time will you come? Will you mysteriously show up like yesterday? Will you touch him again? Will you let him feel good? Is he forgivable or going to burn in hell for wanting more?

He shakes his head to rid it of the thoughts. Perhaps he’s too hopeful. After lunch time he goes back to the farmers lodge to take a nap. At least that’s the realistic excuse he used. He struggles to even fall asleep because he’s so anxious about listening for any sound of you possibly coming back here. 

His eyes, sullen and tired, just can’t stay open after half an hour of waiting. So eventually he does fall asleep. You never show up. When he wakes up from his long needed nap he somehow feels worse knowing you didn’t visit than he did committing his first sin. 

The following day of work is a repeat. He doesn’t see you at all yet you occupy all of his thoughts. He thinks badly of himself for many reasons. 

　On the fourth day, you finally decide it’s time to check up on the poor boy. You watched Sunghoon mope around the farm for two days and it was cute at first but you’re getting bored again. You did like how his eyes were always searching around, hopeful that every sound he heard from behind or around corners was you. Knowing you had such an effect on him made you wonder how much more you could do to him. 

From the window of your room, you watch when they all arrive. Your mother greets them like she does in the mornings and gives them all tasks that need to be completed for the day. It’s Thursday which means she’ll be out for a few hours to go into town and sort out business for products: cow and goat milk processing for cheeses and soaps. At least you assume considering you overheard her phone call about such the day prior. 

You spend the morning around the house, reading and snacking on fruits, waiting for your mother to leave so you can proceed with your plan. There was some effort into your appearance today. You wear a spaghetti strapped white babydoll dress, lined at the bottom with sewn embroideries. It’s simple and flows nicely above your knees when you walk. You hate it because it alludes to soft purity but at least it feels good to dress light in the summer heat. And it might make you all the more approachable to feeble Sunghoon. 

After about an hour, your mother finally leaves. You give it about 10 minutes before you’re shoving on your boots and leaving the house. Some of the blood from earlier in the week still stains the brown leather; you did clean them off but clearly not to the best extent. You’re okay with that though, it seems prettier this way to you. 

Looking and walking around the property, you see the scattered farmhands busy with different things. The sun isn’t kind today, it’s piercing in brightness and temperature. The sweat begins to seep from your pores in a matter of minutes, making you feel sticky. You run a hand through your tangled hair, fingers getting caught in unbrushed knots that you yank through anyways. You don’t see Sunghoon anywhere that’s directly under the sun. You continue to search around the farm, gaining a few cautious looks from the other workers. As you walk past their gazes you wear a wry smile with a tilt to your head. They look away quickly after being caught staring. 

Some wandering in and out of the different barns and coops are done. He wasn’t in any of them though.  You greet the animals you pass by and give pats to some of the cows. “Have you guys seen him nearby? I’m not a fan of hide and seek.” You mumble to one of the goats, scratching lightly beneath its chin while it chews away at grains and hay. It maas in return. You pull your hand back out from the stable then leave to continue the manhunt. 

It’s when you’re walking by the horses’ stables that you see they’ve already been cared for, telling you that someone was here already. You glance to the smaller shed nearby, having a suspicious inkling that it's where Sunghoon is. You walk to the shed and see yourself inside. And he is. He has his back turned to you, standing at a work bench table and cleaning something off. 

You walk up behind him, the sound of your footsteps being dulled by the scattered hay on the wooden floors; he doesn’t notice that you entered the space, clearly lost in his own thoughts. You tap his shoulder which makes him spin around in surprise, dropping the brushes he was cleaning. 

Sunghoon’s eyes are wide at the sight of you standing so close to him. You can tell he’s lost sleep by the dark circles around his eyes and how his complexion is impossibly paler. His mouth is stuttering to find words, opening and closing. 

You step closer to him and he steps back, his backside now pressing against the table. It wobbles on the uneven wooden stilts that hold it up. Reflexively, his hands reach back to hold onto the table, but he’s using it for his own stability. You simply stand there in between his legs, staring up at his face and taking in all the details that differ from the last time you saw him. He swallows, quietly watching your face in return. 

“I haven’t seen you around.” Sunghoon speaks first, his voice a soft surrender. You feel his breath on your face. 

“I know. I saw you though. You missed me.” You state bluntly, taking note of the little fangs he has for teeth. He probably bites good, you think, licking the back of your own teeth. 

“If you saw me then why didn’t you…” he trails off into a quiet again, closing his eyes for a moment with a sigh. “I wouldn’t call it that.” His eyes open again as he feels your hands on his chest, sliding up his white tank and underneath the sleeves of his denim jacket to his shoulders. He bites down, suddenly stiff. 

Ignoring his response you continue, “How can you wear this when it’s so warm out?” Your hands slide over his shoulders and down his toned arms, the jacket slips down to reveal the toned limbs. Your eyebrows raise at the sight yet your face remains relatively blank. “You’ve got muscle. Good for farm work.” Small hands continue to run over the smooth milk-like skin, learning every curve of his lean built physique. It’s not sexual, just exploratory. 

Sunghoon sucks in a breath, watching you inspect him. He begins to feel flustered, relishing in the contact of skin on his. You notice his tense body and ask him if it’s okay, to which replies a raspy stutter, “Y-yeah.” Your hands slide down his arms and back up to his shoulders. Then down his chest and body to stop at the waistline of his jeans. He has a nice body; he must be athletic. You don’t care to ask in what ways. Your fingers dip into his jeans just slightly to pull him in closer to you, he gasps, his growing cock pressing against your stomach. 

“Sunghoon,” You ridicule him, tsking under your breath at the pressure you feel of his arousal. “Already?” You look up at him but he can’t meet your eyes, feeling embarrassed. You play with the waistline, your fingertips running back and forth between the denim and his skin. “Is this sinning?” It’s a soft question yet mocking. He only shakes his head, nervously gnawing at his bottom lip. “Do you want to?” He whimpers, slowly nodding his head. You take your hands off him, crossing your arms. “You have to tell me. Look at me and tell me.” 

He looks back at you dispirited. He knows that you know what he wants. And here you are making him admit it outloud, both to you and God. “Please.” He begs quietly, hoping it only reaches your ears and not the sky’s. “I want you.” 

There’s that feeling again. The lit match that falls from your throat to the gasoline of your stomach that erupts in flames. Fire to your abdomen and loins; it’s an angry feeling, sparked by his honest admit of want, and for you specifically. You watch him with narrowed eyes while mumbling, “you revolt me.” 

He doesn’t reply to your venomous insult. It stings to hear the degrading words in both his heart and pants; he thinks himself disgraceful too. 

You drop to your knees, hands finding place back on his jeans to undo his zipper. He stares down at you in bated breath, hands still gripping tight on the table behind him. His are pulled down slowly, purposely so. You watch him writher, body and face. “Did you do it again?” you question, looking up at him from below. He would never avow to how the sight of you on your knees alone makes him ache all the more. 

He wants to tear his eyes away from you but he can’t. The image of you in your white dress on the ground before him needs to be burned into his memory. He stutters a mumble of words but you don’t catch anything, if he even said a coherent response at all. You ask again, pinching his thigh. He tries to hum over the strained noise in the back of his throat, “Yes.. I mean no! B-but I didn’t touch myself.”

You try not to giggle, biting the inside of your cheek. Knowing he wanted to feel that way again but couldn’t on his own gave you a funny sense of power over him. One of your hands traces the outline of his hard cock through his boxer briefs. “You make a mess?” He shivers at the feeling of your breath on his suffocating length. He breathes out a ‘no’ while you lick a strip over the material. “Why not? I showed you how.”

He moans softly, trying not to let his hips chase after the feeling that he’s been after for days. “You know I can’t,” he exhales. You roll your eyes, mouthing and licking at him languidly. Your hands are still half tugging at the material that keeps him hidden. A faint pool of precum quickly stains his boxers. 

“Sunghoon,” you look up at him with your chin resting on the bulge. He swallows hard, acknowledging you with a hum. “You will never be free from it. The sin I let you taste will forever linger on the tip of your tongue, begging and licking to taste more in crave. No holy blessed water can possibly cleanse you even if you drown in it.” 

His bottom lip pouts out with a little droning whine. He should defend himself, say that his faith is stronger than he is and that his soul is saveable by mercy. But a part of him also feels that doesn’t want to be. His eyes begin to well with tears. 

“Not even a god could make you pure again,” you give him a small smile and pat his naked thigh before pulling down his underwear. His cock now free slaps his stomach to which he breathes out heavily. You grab him with both hands, giving him one last look before taking the leaking head into your mouth. Hands working on him steadily. 

“T-that’s dirty!” he leans forward with a low sounding moan, his hands on your head and in your hair. Your eyes go wide at this. “Why would you put that in your mouth?!” he gasps, the warm wetness around his tip making him dizzy. “This is so vulgar, oh God, forgive me.” he cries, not pulling your mouth off of him but holding you there. 

You circle your tongue around the tip and over his leaking slit, licking the beads of precum that leak out. It makes your grimace before you lean back, a wet pop as your mouth leaves. “Enough of your penitence, and take your hands off me.” It sounds like a warning to which he complies without question, only a hushed apology. He’s the one who wants to be touched anyways, not you. 

You take him into your mouth again, your lips wrap around him in a painful stretch to accommodate his size. He sits heavy on your tongue that lays flat underneath, doing what you can with it. Your hands at the base work around him, jerking and squeezing him like you did before. You weren’t really sure what you were doing, mainly just mocking the actions you read about in books. It seems to be working for Sunghoon regardless because he can barely hold himself together. Whining and whimpering through fat tears, whole body shuddering from the overwhelming wet heat of your mouth. 

His jaw goes slack, mouth hung open only to elicit a breathless moan. His head rolls back on his neck and his eyes flutter to a close. The feeling of your mouth wrapping around him is hot heaven. His body trembles with the new, sweeping sensation. Stomach already tight with contracting muscles. He thinks he could pass out. 

Watching his face, him, discover and feel pleasurable sin is slightly euphoric to you. You’ve seen it in movies and read of it in books, but it was something you never quite fully explored yourself. There’s been a few instances that you did touch yourself; it always felt empty or like something was always missing. There’s little to no excitement when doing it alone in shameful hiding. Witnessing, causing such debauchery is different somehow. Safer in ways you didn’t dwell in thought on. You do wish he would stop crying about it, you find it pathetic of him in a provoked way. 

Involuntarily, he thrusts himself down your throat with a guttural groan. You gag and cough around him, tears sting your eyes that make you squeeze them shut—refusing to let a single one dare to escape. Now it felt like a challenge. One to which you wouldn’t back down in fear of looking weak. 

Your hands hold his thighs roughly, bruisingly so if you had the strength. You move his body in a small back and forth motion, encouraging him to continue his movements. You’re looking up at him with glazed over eyes and a slight nod. He chokes a sob at the sight, you on your knees not to pray but to devour him.

“Ah, I- I’m sorry. Your mouth is so wet, so warm.” He starts off with shallow thrusts, dragging his cock along your wet muscle. His hips stutter while his world seems to be crashing down. “This is so dirty. You look so dirty. And—ngh—it’s.. it’s so good. It’s so good,” he babbles, pushing himself as far down into your mouth as he can. His tip kisses the back of your throat making you gag around him. Your nails digging into the flesh of his strong legs. He can’t stop moaning and whimpering, becoming a slave to pleasure. 

He watches your face. Hollowed cheeks sucking and swallowing around him, the tightness of your throat around him hugging and contracting through chokes that reverberate your body to his cock. The spit that leaks from your lips and all over him is obscene, such a sinful mess. He so badly wants to grab your head and force himself down further, but his nails dig into the wood of the table instead. 

“Hm, I can’t—” he moans your name, thrusting rougher now. His whole body crumbling in on itself, chasing the feeling of release. 

Then there’s the sound of footsteps and a few voices that follow. Sunghoon sucks in a deep breath, taking a fist to his mouth to bite down onto. He looks at you in fear because of the proximity of the other farmhands right outside. This only makes you smirk around him, a glint of evil in your eyes. He shakes his head hurriedly, stopping his movements—as if that would make you both disappear. 

You push yourself off his cock, licking over your cracked and saliva covered lips. You bring a finger to your lips and shush him. “Be quiet or they’ll find out what a nasty whore you are. Unless you want that.” Your voice is quiet and raspy from the abuse of him fucking himself down your throat. You stare into his eyes intently before taking him back in. He glances from you to the door of the shed, his body shaking. 

You slurp and suck him up, purposely loud and sloppy. A hand jerking off the base that doesn’t quite fit in your mouth. He cries quietly with his mouth open, meek and desperate sounds escape that he can’t withhold. “Please…” He’s whimpering, begging for something that he doesn’t know the context of. 

“Do you think the extra feed is in this one?” A voice questions, the door being opened just a crack. 

Sunghoon quickly tries to bend down for his jeans but you slap his hand away, pushing him back into the table. You grip his thighs and force yourself to take all of him down. You gag around him, eyes never leaving his panicky and fucked out face. His face silently begs for you that enough is enough but you don’t stop, because a part of you knows he doesn’t want you to either. 

“It doesn’t hurt to check, does it?” The other replies with a light chuckle. “Could take a break for some shade too while we’re at it.” The door opens slowly with an agonizing creak, sunlight barely pouring. 

Each passing second feels like an eternity to him. The door is still only cracked, not enough for them to see inside but it’s cutting it close. His cock twitches at the thought of being caught with his dick down the throat of the farmer’s daughter. A blazing adrenaline rushes through him. 

Sunghoon can’t bear it any longer. His hands find purchase on the back of your head, pushing himself completely into your mouth. His hips stutter with a whimper on his lips as the hot cum pours down your throat. “Ah, sh- ngh!” You smack at his legs for him to release the hold, choking for air to breathe. You instinctively swallow around him, consuming his load of sin.  

“You dumbass! The horses are already fed, let’s just go for a water break.” The door slams back on itself to a close. Their footsteps can be heard walking away. 

Sunghoon breathes heavily, letting go of you. His body instantly relaxing back with his elbows on the table to support him. Meanwhile you fall onto your ass, a hand around your throat while you gasp for air through rough coughs. “What the fuck did I say about putting your hands on me?” You rasp before coughing again. The taste of him sits on the back of your tongue no matter how much you swallow. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “we shouldn’t get caught.” He pulls his pants and boxers back up then extends a hand to you, an offering to help you stand back up. 

You scoff, ignoring his hand and stand up on your own. You brush the dirt and stray strands of hay from your knees. “Whatever. We both got what we wanted.” You start to turn for the door to leave the shed with the thought of brushing your teeth in mind. 

Sunghoon, confused as to what you could’ve gotten out of helping him, just reaches for your hand. He grabs you and pulls you back to look at him. His eyes are sad, maybe even a little afraid by your haste to leave. “Y-you’re just going to leave me again?” He sounds broken by the fact. 

“What?” You can’t help but breathe a laugh, “Did you expect me to do more?” You ask with raised brows. 

“No! No, not like that.. But..” He swallows his pride, “I- I don’t know. Just don’t leave yet. Please.” 

You blink at him, scanning his features like a robot in calculation. The pleading of his expression and his words aggravate you. A fiery burning to your insides and the skin that he touches, that he reached for. You look down to his tight grip on your hand before yanking it away. You don’t say anything more, and neither does he. He wipes his eyes from whatever salty wetness is still there. 

A moment of silence solidifies your decision. You beckon him to follow you out and he does. 

For the rest of his work day you remain. You try not to think about why. But subconsciously you know it’s because for the first time someone willingly wants to be by your side. At first you imagine it’s because of what you’ve done for him—gave him what any man desires: pleasure. A man falling into temptation is far too easy. 

Though he doesn’t ask for more and he doesn’t bring it up. Almost like it never happened. 

It seems like he really just wants to be around you. There’s little said between each other. It’s just idle farm work with company. And it’s more peaceful than you expected it to be. He didn’t touch you, question you, or do much at all to bother you in general. 

Sometimes he stares at you, but you do the same to him. He even gives a sheepish smile when he catches you; it doesn’t get returned. That doesn’t bother him though. He thinks you look beautiful on the farm in your dress with dirt covered hands and hair messy from the wind. He hopes to tell you that one day but for now he stays shy, still weary and afraid. 

The sun shines relentlessly unless a cloud mercifully passes by. The breeze is rare yet kind. The animals make their sounds to sing a collective song. The trees and crops sway like waving hands of hellos and goodbyes, depending on where you’re headed to or from. It’s not so bad. 

��Two weeks go by. Time flies by for both you and Sunghoon. He comes to work during the week, and he spends his weekends missing you. He doesn’t know what you two are to each other, and he’s too scared to ask. There’s definitely been changes to the dynamic, however. Subtly so. You still don’t smile, or let him touch you. You roll your eyes and insult him if he’s too emotional. But you’re there. 

Certainly not everyday, but most, you spend his work days with him. It’s easier to be around one another. There can be small talk, usually about the farm or the weather. Still much to be learned about on a personal level, but he’s fine with the pace of the relationship (outside of the unholy acts that are committed). Sometimes you even end up helping him. Or at least he thinks of it that way. In reality you don’t like how he does things and take over to do it yourself. 

You still tease him in your cruel ways. Always ending with him in a mess because he’s easily worked up by your handsy curiosity. He caves into you every time because he can’t fight the divinity that you show him. 

There are other times where you confuse him. You suggest a water break knowing he’d gone hours without hydration under the summer heat. You insist on having him take a break under a roof away from the sun when his skin gets too sweaty or red. Which is followed by a reminder that sunscreen is important if he wishes to keep his milky complexion. It’s critical statements that you provide him, but he can’t help to think it’s a weird way of showing you care. 

Sure, it could be seen as you selfishly saying these things because it’s what you want for yourself, but in the back of his mind he’s very aware of how you watch and cater to him. It makes his heart jump every time and butterflies swarm his stomach. He can’t help it. The little things, the small acts of kindness—that you might not even intend—make him delusionally overthink. 

On the third weekend since starting his summer job, Jake can’t help all the questions he’s been building up and dying to ask. Jake doesn’t understand what Sunghoon has been going through, especially when his moods change so drastically. At first, Sunghoon was self isolating and pouty, clearly in his own head and sulking. But then he would come home from work beaming with an afterglow to his aura. And then on the weekends he was back to his reclusive, depressed state. 

Sick of being left out of Sunghoon’s inner turmoil, Jake finally pesters his friend. 

“When are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Jake stands in the doorway of Sunghoon’s room, staring at his friend who’s laying face down in his bed. 

“I don’t know…” Sunghoon’s words are muffled in his pillow. 

Jake walks in with a sigh and sits at the end of the bed. He playfully slaps Sunghoon’s leg. “Dude, just tell me. You’re obviously going through something. You know I can keep a secret. I won’t judge.” 

Sunghoon rolls over on his back, his hands clasped together over his stomach as he stares up to the ceiling. He confides in Jake, telling his story from the beginning of when he first met you. He stutters over his words when he admits to the sinful acts he partook in with you. He tells Jake of his guilty conscience and how he enjoyed indulging in the feelings. Then he tells Jake about how he simply likes your company even without the sexual circumstances involved. How he’s mystified by your complex personality and only wishes to know you more. However, he does leave out the viciousness of your nature, since a part of him doesn’t quite believe in it. 

“It seems like you’re starting to develop a crush.” Jake laughs lightly, “And if it’s about religion, don’t overthink it too much. Nobody dies completely pure.” He reassures him. “You should show her more of you. That you like her too.” 

Sunghoon groans and covers his face at the terrifying suggestion. If only you were that easy to approach in such a vulnerable way. “I guess… I’ll consider it.” 

The next day is Sunday. Jake and Sunghoon attend church as normal. Sunghoon participates less in his prayers and songs than usual. His mind is too preoccupied with all he has going on in life. He feels guilt and frustration. 

Sunghoon, lost in his own world, fails to realize that his best friend—Jake—battles something similar internally. 

You’re never as alone as you think you are if you take a better look around. Everyone is riddled with their own self disgust, guilt, or shame. How else would the churches be so full? 

　Entering the fourth week of summer should feel easier than it does for Sunghoon. The work seems to be picking up regarding responsibilities. The weather is only becoming less forgivable. The peak is yet to hit, but that only means the seasonal storms are right around the corner. More care is needed in the fields and barns in terms of protection in case of unpredictable weather. 

Aside from the work, Sunghoon is anxious because of you. He hasn’t seen you yet today and he feels nervous about it. Perhaps he has grown too clingy, finding close comfort in knowing you’re there with him on the farm. There’s a sense of safety when you’re in the line of sight; you make things easier for him and he enjoys the presence. 

While he’s watering plants and checking the sprinklings through the fields, an older man approaches him. It’s a familiar face that he’s seen around a few times over the past month. The man waves with a smile and Sunghoon does the same. 

“It’s amazing what you’ve done, boy.” The man begins, Sunghoon questions where he’s going with the start because he’s just an extra hand of help and doesn’t feel he’s accomplished or improved the farm in drastic ways. “I’ve worked here, hm, well I’ll be damned! Nearly 15 years! And I’ve never once seen that farm girl talk to anyone. Much less spend time.” the man chuckles. 

“Oh!” Sunghoon blushes and hopes it’s only mistaken as feverish from the summer. He smiles small and stares down to the bundle of plants he brought with him to the farm today. He feels special knowing this much of you. “She’s something…” 

“Sometimes I’d see her talk to herself and the animals.” The man pulls out a cigarette and lighter to smoke. “She’d walk around aimlessly like a ghost. Used to scare the hell outta me.” As he laughs, smoke escapes his lungs. He wheezes a little before continuing, “But now she follows and watches you like she’s worshipin’. If only she did the same with her daddy. Although with a face like yours, I can’t blame the girl.” 

“Pardon? What do you mean by that?” Sunghoon, bemused, watches the man smoke and laugh between weak coughs. “She has a dad?” His last question is overroad by the man who speaks over him. 

“You keep up your work, kid. I outta get back to mines too.” And then he’s walking away with a low chuckle, shaking his head to himself. 

Sunghoon’s aware of your mother. He always thought it was just the two of you running things. He’s never once seen a man, your father, leave the house or so much so be around it. This gives him more to think about, especially on the fact that he still doesn't know much about you at all. You’re still an enigma to him, but he wants everything. 

By the afternoon when all the guys are finishing up their break, you finally come out of the house. With the sound of the front door opening, Sunghoon is quick to straighten his posture and find your eyes. You’re already looking at him, watching him and his surroundings with no expression. His cheeks burn and he can’t help the smile forming on his lips. 

Two and a half days without seeing you feels like so much longer. 

He stands up from the picnic table, grabbing his newspaper wrapped bundle of greenery and shyly hiding it behind his back. He walks over to you, tripping over his feet as he approaches the porch steps to the house. You stand there in front of the door but at the top of the few stairs, arms crossed and amused. 

He’s diffident, arms behind him and modestly attempting to hide how nervous he feels on the inside. His stomach is doing flips, his heart racing. On top of already sweating. He feels like he could throw up his lunch right in front of your feet. He swallows thickly before slowly bringing his hands out in front of himself. 

“I,” he clears his throat, “ehem, I got these for you.” With outstretched arms, the bundle of flowers shake in his trembling hands. He suddenly feels he’s too nervous to even meet your eyes, so he watches the chipped paint wood of the front porch steps. 

You just stand there, watching him with wide eyes and your heart in your throat. Your mouth is lost for words, glancing around at the few farmhands who haven’t left yet and are staring at Sunghoon’s exchange in a similar bewilderment. Some are trying to keep themselves from bursting out into laughter.

“Are you some kind of stupid?” You whisper harshly for only him to hear, snatching the flowers out of his hands. “Why the hell would you do this?” Your words like your tone are mean, but in your chest there’s a raging pounding. It’s a seething raw emotion that doesn’t know how to be dealt with. You’ve only just stepped out of the house and your body feels like it’s inside a furnace. 

Sunghoon’s head shoots back up to look at you, his face and heart drop. “I-I’ve never had a girlfriend before so I wasn’t sure what to do.. This is what boyfriends do, right?” He takes a hand to scratch at the back of his head. Inner turmoil takes over and he thinks he’s fucked up. He bites at his lip, doing his best not to instantly cry in regret. 

You notice this and sigh, irritated. You look from the neatly wrapped white roses and tulips and back to Sunghoon. “So you are stupid,” you mumble before taking your own bottom lip between your teeth. A part of you wants to sneer, but you spin on your heels to hide the warmth that floods your face in substitution. “I’m throwing them away,” you announce, opening the door and walking back inside your house. 

Sunghoon, broken, just drops his head and turns back. A few of the farmhands are snickering from not too far away, chattering among each other and eyeing Sunghoon. He wishes God would smite him on the spot from the humiliation. 

Wanting to avoid everything for a little while, he thinks of heading to the lodge to lay down in hiding. But before he can walk away, the front door of your house swings open once more. He glances back at you, meeting your eyes like he always seems to do. 

“Done for the day already?” You call over to him, now leaning over the banister of the porch with crossed arms. 

Sunghoon, unable to refute you, offers a weak smile and shakes his head. “No.” 

He walks back over to you and you meet him halfway. You don’t say anything else. You don’t bring up the fact that he had bought you flowers or confused the odd relationship you share for dating. It’s cute in all its blind innocence, but that just goes to show you that you have more work to do with him. 

You don’t think of messing with him today. He’s distinctly grown too clingy with how much time you’ve spent with him. Yet you can’t ignore him either. The two of you carry out the rest of the day’s farm work in silence. The inner fury you feel with him doesn’t seem to go away, despite how he hasn’t said much or even brushed skin with you. 

You don’t know how you’re remaining pacific by his side. The rampaging of your heart strings tug like a screaming instrument just from being next to him. How he can keep walking tall, stare at you when he thinks you aren’t looking, or even smile at you is beyond what you know is capable of humans. Men like him only existed in books and movies. You wonder if he’s perhaps playing a game like you.

By the time he’s in the truck to go back to town to catch a bus into the city, you’re sitting at the lake dock. Criss crossed legs, a bouncing knee, and fingernails being ripped at by your teeth. You stare blankly at the water, hoping for that sense of serenity to encapsulate you. It never seems to come. It just feels cold.

So you decide on punishing him for making you feel this way. 

You don’t leave your house for the next three days. You don’t make yourself known, heard or seen. However, you’re peeking out every window of your house to get any chance of a view of him. You hate yourself for being so curious of him in the first place. What was supposed to be good fun has only left you feeling angry. Taking his innocence was never going to heal you, or even make him like yourself. In fact, it’s making you sicker.

And on the night of the fourth Thursday, you’re laying in bed staring at your ceiling. A stuffed animal is hugged tightly to your chest. You can’t sleep and you can’t stop thinking about someone for the first time in your life. No amount of tossing and turning, counting sheep, or button presses to your distorted singing, stuffed bear made it easier. 

Somehow, you ended up punishing yourself. You always had a knack for that, historically, but this time felt different. It actually kind of hurt. Being alone came naturally to you, but tonight it hits you just how lonely you’ve always been. 

　Friday, the farmhands are huddled on the front porch of your house. All the animals are safely away in their designated homes thanks to their help. It started to storm in a heavy downpour only minutes ago. What started out as a dark gray gloom and windy rain quickly turned into an early flooded property, illuminated by strikes of flashing lightning and roaring thunder. 

You stand dry under the protection of the porch roof by the front door. Watching and listening to your mother suggest the shaking cold, soaked men take shelter in the lodge until the sky lets up so they can head home. 

Sunghoon hasn’t spared a look to you all day, but you know that he feels his eyes on you. It’s in the way he shifts awkwardly amongst the men that ignore him. How his eyes are trained low and unfocused yet always trying to move in your direction. His wet hair falls over his face, concealing his emotions you wish to dissect. He comes off as stoic but you know he wears his heart on his sleeve; how his body language speaks volumes. 

Your mother pushes past you to get back inside, saying she’ll check the basement for a spare heater that the boys could use at the lodge. There’s something in you that makes you move without thinking. Suddenly a hand is tugging at the bottom of Sunghoon’s damp jacket for his attention. The material is too thin for this weather and the thought of him becoming sick crosses your mind. 

“It’s warmer here,” your words, for once, came out soft. Too much so, being lost in the cracking sound of thunder. He looks at you through his bangs. The wave of alleviation from whatever he was dealing with is palpable. His eyes and body almost look relaxed. You tug him towards you once more, insinuating that he follows you. 

He does. Like whatever subconscious emotion made you approach him also made him follow you in. As he steps in, he notices the indistinguishable vibes of the farmer’s lodge. It’s updated and cleaner, but similar in aesthetics. A shotgun sits leaning up against the wall by the front door. His brows furrow and eyes narrow. “Those aren’t safe to have lying around…” he mumbles. 

You tug him towards the staircase to walk up, “It’s protection. Only my mother and I are here,” is mumbled back as you lead him up the wooden, creaking stairs. Your feet move light and quick, like a mouse in a home not theirs. If your mother saw you, there would be unnecessary consequences. And the possibility of your father’s involvement would only worsen such. 

Sunghoon cautiously steps into your bedroom, his body tenses at the sound of you shutting and locking the door. He feels on edge, wrapping his arms around his shivering body and soaked clothes. You move around him to sit on your bed, telling him to remove his sopping attire. He does so with shaking hands, leaving him in nothing but his underwear. He shyly looks around the room while using his hands to cover his manhoon. 

His eyes scan over you, sitting quietly on your bed with a look of contemplation that stares past him. A wooden cross hangs on the wall above your bed, the dark wood matches the decadent bed frame. The nightstand nearby has a pile of books and journals with a low light lamp and unlit candle. 

The large window has sheer white curtains drawn open and a vase on the windowsill. A glass vase filled with the flowers he gave you earlier in the week. His heart aches at the sight of the still healthy white roses and tulips, and a smile graces his lips. You liar! You kept them! Is what runs through his thoughts. 

Without Sunghoon realizing, you got up to grab a towel and drape over the back of his shoulders. He’s taken aback by your ghost-like actions, but offers you a small smile of appreciation. “Thanks…” 

You nod for response and glance from him to the vase of flowers he was lost in thought over. You didn’t have it in to explain yourself, mostly because you didn’t understand why you had done so either. 

He dries himself off and finds a place to sit at the end of your bed. You’re on the other end with your back pressed to the headboard, watching him, counting every mole you can find on his pale canvas. The stuffed animal you sleep with is being mindlessly fumbled around in your hands. 

Sunghoon turns to face you directly, he reaches a hand out, eyes shifting from your face and the winged bear. You shoot him a mean look at first, only holding it closer to yourself before your face softens to slowly extend it out to him. 

He takes it with careful hands and looks down to inspect the old toy. Its cream colored fur is dirtied and matted with age. The holographic satin wings on the back have loose stitching and its halo is crooked. Across the chest of the bear reads ‘Jesus Loves Me’ but it’s obvious the sewn name Jesus has been ripped away at. One paw has a red heart embroidered saying ‘press me’. His thumb brushes over the button heart before pressing down. The bear sings in a distorted happy voice the lullaby of Jesus loves me. 

“His name is Saint Michael,” you say quietly and he almost doesn’t catch it. Sunghoon can only breathe a laugh because he finds the dichotomy cute. You almost laugh too, but bite your tongue and look back to your empty hands. You don’t know it but he can see you try to fight your little smile. To him, this moment means more than anything; he’s starting to see you’re more tender than you realize. It brings him a sense of surety in knowing that he can break you like you to do him. 

Silly as it may seem for a troubled girl, the bear was the only comfort you had throughout childhood. There was no kindness from your father, no solace from your mother, no guide in knowing life or love. But there was Saint Michael, the stuffed angel bear; he may not have defended you in battle but he hugged you back, and that was enough to cherish him like a deity. 

Sunghoon crawls across the bed and sits himself next to you, too close for your liking, but you don’t push him away. He hands the stuffie back to you and you place it on the nightstand to face away from you. You lower yourself in the bed, shuffling under the covers of the blanket and he does the same. His skin naked bare yearns for more warmth, yours specifically. 

You feel him turn on his side next to you, pressing up against you despite there being enough space on the bed. His movements are awkward and nervous like he is. You feel a certain pressure against your thigh that isn’t his bones or limbs. You spare him a glance, he doesn’t know if it’s a warning or dare. 

“...Have I ruined you?” You wonder aloud, looking back to the ceiling. 

“No,” he answers quickly, shaking his head against your shoulder. The way he’s missed you in his desire to touch you, hands tingling with want to snake around your waist and pull you in tight. “I think I just want you all the time now. I can’t help it, m’sorry.” He sounds ashamed in his soft mumbles. 

“I’ll only keep stripping all that purity from you. Once it’s mine it’ll remain mine, you know that right?” You look back at him before brushing some of his drying hair from his eyes. He tries to lean up into the touch but your hand is taken back. “And I will pretend it’s healing all that’s missing from me. Do you really want to be mine, Sunghoon?” Your words are so gentle yet laced with threat. 

“Yes,” he exhales, “I want to be yours. Let me be yours please.” It’s hushed, a secret prayer with hope. His hips push further into the skin of your leg, where the hip meets the thigh. He wouldn’t mind going to Hell if it meant more time with you. 

“You beg like a needy barn animal in heat.” You use a hand to cup his face, he sighs into the hold as he eyes flutter to a close. You push your leg in between his, terribly close to his exposed and vibrating body. “So hump me like one.” 

“W-what?” he stutters out before licking over his lips, his thighs squeezing around the plush of yours now trapped in his. His eyes already wet with desperate want, staring back at yours.

“Do it. Like it’s mating season and you want to claim me before anyone else.” 

A cracked voice whine falls from his lips and he begins to roll his growing bulge against you. You watch as he sucks in breaths between quiet breathy moans. His pink, plump lips pursing and falling open. His eyes try to stay on your face, how close you are to him, but they fall shut sometimes in his basking of rapture. It’s a slutty sight of a faith-sickened boy. 

He loves the little to no proximity that there is. His hands find place on your waist, and he’s aware of how that makes you feel, but he can’t stop it. He wants more and more of you. His hands slide up under your shirt, the feeling on your bare skin in his hands makes his body shudder. Untouched, warm flesh for his large hands to explore and learn every curve of. 

Even you stiffen at his exploration, holding in your breath as if you’ve forgotten how to breathe. Your shirt lifts up more with his hands and the exposure is daunting like you’re revealing your insides. 

The pit of your stomach lights up and you're frozen under his clutch. The pads of his fingers hold you so tight as if he’s scared you’ll disappear. His cock is raging and you can feel every pulse of blood that his heart beat floods to. He’s humping into you desperately, chasing the euphoria that he could never find on his own. Such a delicate, shy boy now driven by lust and longing. 

“You’re pathetic and disgusting. You’re practically fucking me through our clothes,” you murmur while you try to push his hands down off you, but his grip won’t let up. Instead his nails dig further into you, a barely sounding broken noise escapes you from the pain. This makes his body collapse further into you, his head dropping between your shoulder and neck. His movements are sloppy and rushed. 

“N-no, I’m still good. You make me feel good, I am so good,” he whines, tears beginning to fall from his eyes to your shoulder. You try to imagine his holy water is washing you clean but it only singes. 

“Tell me that only I make you feel good, that you’re only good for me.” 

“Only you—can only be you to make me good,” he cries against your warmth, rocking himself into you roughly. His leaking cock begins to twitch against you and his hips won’t quit their stuttered jerks. 

You hum lightly and run a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face. He looks up at you with those desperate, wet, dark eyes and you can’t help but acknowledge how pretty he is like this. His puffy cheeks are flushed pink as the tip of his nose. “Only for me,” you mumble.

“Yes, thank you, I am yours. Yes.” His breaths are jagged and heavy. There’s a coiling in his abdomen that feels borderline explosive. You were right, he craves this feeling. It’s surreal to him how he’s gone so long without it. His arms wrap around you completely now, holding you down while his body rolls on top of yours, situated between your legs. His heart hammers against your chest; he wants to mold into you, to become a singular rot. 

You squeak a gasp, being caged down by him. Your heart beats with the same veracity. One of your arms wraps around his waist to hold his back while the other holds the back of his head that hasn’t left the safety of your neck. He continuously sobs through meek moans. His hair tickles your skin like sparks while his lips brush over your jaw and neck making the tingle feel like crackling flames. 

Under his weight you feel yourself slipping in both confidence and dominance, your body wanting to sink down in submission from the unknown comfort of his control. Your heart aches and you feel something you’ve never felt before. You think you’re scared of it, yet your body pulls him closer. Hand in his hair, tugging with fearful aggression. Nails piercing the skin of his shoulder blade. You’re pliant under his heavy thrusts and sounds of sin. 

The rain pours harder outside with whips of harsh winds smacking the window. It’s almost like God’s wrath is screaming to be seen, to shout that He is watching. 

Sunghoon’s hard cock is relentless against your core. The rough grind of him is stimulating in ways   you’ve never felt before, your body sensitive and starving for more. You squeeze your eyes shut and moan within your closed mouth, hating yourself for feeling this way because it was never supposed to be about you. You are betraying yourself more than your fathers.

The sounds you try to withhold make Sunghoon weaker. He feels uncontrollable, only becoming needier and hungrier with his movements, “I can’t stop. I can’t stop.” He whines, begging for you to vocalize how you feel it too. 

You feel like you’re breaking underneath him, and it feels shameful. Like every harsh word your father ever spat at you was true now that you’re a part of the experience and not just the cause. Everything is too much. It takes every ounce of strength you have to turn both of your bodies over. Now sitting up on top of his lap, you can finally breathe again, sighing in relief. He whimpers at the distance between you both but also from the view of you. 

He moans your name softly as he grips your hips, pushing himself up into your clothed pussy like he’s fucking you. Your hands push down on his shoulders. You stare into his eyes with a plain expression and contrasting sharp eyes, grinding your hips back down on top of him. It’s hard to ignore the way it makes you feel, watching him fall apart beneath you as his pulsing cock fucks against you, but you manage. 

“Cum for me,” you demand quietly, “make a mess and imagine it’s inside me.” 

“Holy fu—ngh,” his entire body spasms and shudders with a low groan falling from his open lips. His movements slow down only to become lazier and uncoordinated. You can feel the warm wetness he spills soak through your thin pajama shorts and underwear. 

“You’re right. You are good for me,” you coo softly, cupping his face and using your thumbs to wipe away the tears. Your hips circle and swivel slowly on him until his quivering cock finishes cumming. 

Sunghoon has a sparkle to his wet eyes. The way the gentle praise left your lips makes him melt, and he can’t stop the flickering glance between your eyes and lips. He breathes heavily through his post clarity. Still he basks in your touch with a hopeful look in his eyes. His tongue slides over his lips before he’s leaning up towards your face, hands affixed to your waist to pull you closer to him. 

This makes a wave of panic wash over you, knowing what he wants to do. You shake your head no and pull yourself away, slipping off of his lap only to turn away from him. 

“None of that. It’s not what-” 

And then there’s a press of lips to your cheek. Your face burns as if a hot coal was what kissed your face. Your eyes go wide, turning to see the boy sitting up next to you. He only wears a shy smile as he sees your reaction.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a week now,” he admits with a small laugh. “Not exactly there but that’s fine. I wish you would let me help you feel good too.” he whispers, looking back to the windowsill where the gifted flowers stood in their vase with the raging storm as their backdrop. 

“That’s dumb and I don’t need to,” you reply, still watching him stare forward. Your chest feels painful; it’s an ache like shattered glass trying to piece together in the wrong ways. Stabbing but trying.

“I think you deserve to,” he argues. “But I understand if it’s not what you want. I was really touchy and I shouldn’t have been because you don’t seem like it. I was too caught up in the moment.” His mind goes to the mess he’s still sitting in and he feels self-conscious all over again. “Is it embarrassing how much I need you?”

You blink at him, swallowing the words that were never going to come out because you didn’t even know what they should or would be. So you settle with a simple, “No.”

You think it would kill you to admit how much you actually always wished to be wanted, needed, or loved. A bigger part of you didn’t think you were worthy of it, let alone capable. The world had such a way of saying otherwise. Until it brought Sunghoon to you; the boy who showed you feelings and experiences you never thought possible. 

As if he could read your mind, he asks, “Why did you choose me out of everyone?” He falls back onto the bed, laying down and pulling the blanket over himself. 

“I think you reminded me of a lamb.” 

“Pardon?” His brows furrow. 

You lay back down next to him, facing him like he is to you. “Pretty, white, and docile. You were so nervous when I first saw you—sometimes you still are.” You even laugh a little. “When you shook my hand I knew I could do anything to you because you’d let me.” 

“You think I’m pretty?” He smiles wide, scooting closer to you. 

You scoff with an eye roll, leaning further away from him. “Oh shut up, you’ve seen a mirror.” 

And then it’s his turn to laugh a little. He looks at you like you’re the reason the sun rises and falls. It kind of hurts you to see him like this because it reminds you of your initial rotten intentions and how they’re dissipating the more you’re with him. 

Time passes faster than the two of you realize. There’s light banter and easy conversations. You learn more about Sunghoon. Where he goes to school, what he studies, and who his friends are. He tells you of the sports he used to do and what he does in free time with his best friend. The more you learn about him, the more you understand his naivety and how despite what you’ve done, he won’t change. There’s something lovely about it. 

You don’t have much to share about your life the way he does, at least not in the same light. But you show him your favorite books, drawings you made over the years, and share the stories of movies you found interesting. He savors the moment of you simply confiding, enjoying the more he can know about you. 

The storm passes later in the evening. So caught up in borrowing time, the rain has slowed down to a simple pitter patter. The clouds dispersed and the setting sun only came through to say goodbye to the day. 

The sound of the truck that the farmhands use to take back to town is heard roaring to life, signalling you and Sunghoon that it’s safe and time to head out. 

Sunghoon jumps out of bed but by the time he’s shoving himself into his still damp jeans and looking out the window, the truck is already speeding down the dirt, now mud riddled road. 

“They just left without me,” he breathes out. “I’m used to them leaving me out, but t-this is.. How am I going to get home?” He looks back to you with sad eyes, not the light they had earlier. He’s not shocked by their actions, but he is disappointed. A hand runs through his hair in his stress. 

“Should I kill them?” Your question is brazen, body and voice eerily still in your seriousness. 

“W-what?!” he whispers in shock, freezing for a moment. 

“I’m joking.” You sit up and watch Sunghoon resume getting dressed. “I think you should head back to the lodge for the night. There’s a washer and dryer for your clothes. And spare food for dinner too.” 

Sunghoon nods slightly, “your jokes are weird, but okay.” He looks like he’s thinking of something, taking his bottom lip between his teeth in thought before speaking again. “Can you stay with me for the night at least?” he asks shyly. 

“No,” comes out quicker than you intended. “...But I guess I can walk with you there.” 

He nods again but now with his signature small dimpled smile. You almost forgot about being angry at the other farmhands for taking it away. 

You have to make sure the coast is clear before leaving the house. You tiptoe down the halls and stairs, weary of where your mother is inside the house. To your luck, she’s in her usual state. She’s passed out on the couch with two empty bottles of wine on the floor. The television volume is low, playing a rerun of the reverend’s sermon; the devil himself of your childhood, preaching about how he lost his child to the otherside. 

With a finger to your lips, you silently signal for Sunghoon to be quiet and to follow you out. 

Once safely out of the front door, you take his hand in yours and start running for the lodge. The tall boy is behind you, so you don’t get to see the bright smile on his lips or in his eyes as you run through the light run towards the lodge. 

Now standing in the front doorway of the farmer’s lodge, wet from the sky all over again and still hand in hand, Sunghoon bravely speaks up.

“I don’t like it when you disappear on me,” he breathes out shakily, honestly. “Nobody else sees me like you do,” he squeezes your hand tighter in his, feeling you begin to pull away. “Come with me into the city tomorrow. We can- I’m not sure yet, but I’m sure I want more time with you.” 

His eye contact is unwavering, begging. Both of his strong hands hold onto yours. You glance from your hand then back to his pleading expression. He will always remain so sweet, no matter what you do to him. 

“I felt less lonely before I met you,” you confess, eyes unblinking as you stare up at him for a long pause. “I’ll meet you here in the morning.” 

In only seconds, he’s pulling you into a hug. His arms wrap around you so tightly as he holds you to his chest. You go stiff in his arms, forgetting how to breathe for a moment. What feels suffocating at first turns into a warmth you’ve become all too familiar with, and it was never anger. The indignation you always wear is just a hand me down from your parents; it doesn’t fit you right even though it’s comfortable. 

With a shaky exhale, you wrap your arms around him too. The hug surrounds you like a blanket of unknown comfort. Your ear pressed to his chest listens to the sound of his racing heart. You can feel the pound throughout his entire body too. Every emotion held within is trying and fighting to be seen. It’s still so cold from the rain but he feels contrast, only warm. His lips press a kiss to the top of your head, making your body burn even more and your hold all the tighter. 

　True to your word, you meet Sunghoon at the farmer’s lodge the next morning. He seems happier than usual. Very giddy to be spending a weekend day with you without work in the way. No distractions or excuses to leave. Just the two of you and a new day with zero obligations.

Because you had a spare bike, you both are able to peddle towards town to the bus stop together. Having made these frequent trips alone, you’re familiar with the owner of the gas station at the stop. He’s a deaf older man, and it surprises Sunghoon that you know how to sign and ask him to hold onto the bikes until you’re back. You tell Sunghoon that you learned some basics from reading a book you bought a long time ago. 

Stunned, Sunghoon realizes that you went out of your way to do so for one man who watches your bike while you endure solo trips. You, the odd girl who was mean and sinful, used your money and learned a language for one man who did a simple favor. He’s learning more to admire you for by the day, and it’s crazy to him how you don’t see your own charm. 

Sunghoon pays your bus fares even though you insisted on being capable of doing so yourself. Sat in the middle of the bus that’s only barely half filled, he asks if there’s anything you’d like to do for the day while in the city. Nobody has ever asked you such an effortless thing, and you like it more than you imagined. Just uncomplicated curiosity of your wishes. 

“The book store. The small yellow one on main street. Maybe see a movie if anything is worth seeing.” You shrug, spewing out the usual things you do. Looking around the taken bus seats, you notice some familiar faces. 

“That sounds nice,” he smiles, “our first real date! I think there’s a cafe near that book store too. Do you like coffee?” 

Your cheeks burn as you stare at him in bewilderment, “you think we’re going on a date?!” 

“Of course we are,” he laughs like it’s obvious and wraps an arm around your shoulder, looking out of the window. All that the town can offer him other than you passes by. “I’m a fan of americanos. You seem like you’d take your coffee black.” 

“I don’t even like coffee,” you mumble, turning your attention out of the window as well. “Tea is nice though.” You add in, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Hm. I can see that too,” he hums as he pulls you closer into his side. 

So much can change in such little time. You’ve experienced this many times in one life. How one day can open a new door to a path otherwise not taken. Showing Sunghoon more of you has made him bloom into a larger ray of light. He seems more comfortable, and now you’ve become the awkward one. 

The ride to the city doesn’t normally take this long, or at least you don’t think it does. Every second with him by your side makes the experience feel brand new. The theme of time being unreal is common with him, you’ve discovered. It’s when you’re in the bookstore and see a holiday sale that you realize it’s not even June anymore. 

While Sunghoon looks for books for his upcoming college semester, you find yourself in genre sections you never really cared for before. The dark and racy ones were fun to bring home, sure. But innocent, cliche romance was always something cringey to you. Now if you change your perspective to that of research then it’s less daunting, right? Perhaps you’d make sense of all the things you’re discovering about yourself and him. Yeah, that’s convincing enough. 

He teases you at the checkout counter when he sees what you picked out. Your face flushes in embarrassment and you can’t even bite back at him or defend your choices. So you smack him with the book on the way out while he laughs and makes jokes that aren’t very funny. 

The two of you do manage to catch a movie. You honestly didn’t care to see one, but having to sit silently in a theater for at least an hour and half seemed like enough time for him to, hopefully, forget and drop the whole book situation. It’s a summer slasher film. A group of teens go camping and the plot is very ‘who done it’ style. Overall, it’s a fun choice. You have your turn to laugh and joke when Sunghoon gets jumpy or scared. 

After the movie, you both end up at the cafe Sunghoon mentioned while on the bus. There was something painfully intimate about everything today. But especially sitting down to eat with him. Not even your mother could meet you at the table anymore. 

“You seem softer today,” Sunghoon states, setting his half-drunk coffee down. “Almost nervous. Is it because we’re out together for our first date? Or just the people in general?” 

You raise a brow at his brazen curiosity and observation. “Maybe you’re rubbing off on me,” you play with your fork to move around the barely touched food in front of you. “Or maybe it’s a bit of both.” 

“If you come to the city enough to know sign language for the man who watches your bike, do you like it better than the countryside?” 

“Don’t know. I’m used to the quiet life, but leaving it behind and pretending it’s not there is nice too.” 

“What keeps you there?” 

“The scenery. The air. The lake. Being friends with the animals.” You look up from the plate to Sunghoon who is watching you like a lecture: attentive and learning. “I’m not very good with people, so I think it suits me alright.” 

“You’re good with me though,” he argues softly.

“No, not really. I wish I was more like everyone else,” you inhale deeply as your eyes wander around the bustling cafe. There’s a choir of laughter, conversations, and social dynamics you would have to study to master. “If I were a good person, everything would be easier.” 

“...but I like you as you are,” he mumbles loud enough for you to hear, watching you shift in your seat. He doesn’t think you’re not a good person, and it hurts that you see yourself as such. 

As Sunghoon speaks, there’s a chime that follows as the front door of the cafe is swung open. A disheveled man stumbles inside, heavy feet stomping the tile floor to attempt to stabilize his disorientation. The man burps obnoxiously loud, and many eyes find him with the grand entrance. 

He scratches at his lengthy, unkept beard as he looks around. When his sunken eyes find you sitting at the table nearby his eyes grow wide and his mouth falls open. His hand shakes with a pointed finger in your direction, “y-you! The girl from the reverend’s sermon!” He’s loud, capturing the attention of everyone now. His sloppy movements make way towards you and Sunghoon; you feel everything within you freeze, and your heart knocks at your chest fast and hard with anxiety.  

He slams his hands on the table, causing your plates and drinks to rattle. He reeks badly of alcohol and his crazed eyes never leave yours. You swallow thickly, fight or flight mode still trying to understand the situation before you. Meanwhile Sunghoon, worried and confused, slowly begins to stand up and grab your bags. 

But you, you’re frozen staring at the messy man who talks of your greatest hate. Your hands tremble on the table. 

“I thought the reverend made you up for stories, but my God! You’re the real living thing just like the pictures; his only sin,” he laughs boisterously in your face and you try not to gag. “I saw him a little whiles earlier, ya know,” his voice goes quieter, it’s taunting even. You wish to remain calm but your eyes tremble and a frown takes your face. “I should go find him and tell him you’re here. He really-”

Sunghoon takes your hand, practically dragging you away from the table. You almost fall from your seat, like a baby deer just learning to walk, there’s little strength to your legs. 

“It’s not too late! You can be on the right side of things!” his voice ricochets off the walls of the now quiet cafe. “If I can be saved by his preaching, so can you! Look at me!” His mad laughter follows you and Sunghoon outside. 

Sunghoon watches you stand on uneasy feet, zoned out staring at the sidewalk. It didn’t take much to put the pieces together that the drunken man was talking about your father. Your father being a reverend who’s not in the picture gave him much to wonder about, but now isn’t the time. He just wanted to get you somewhere away from this memory. 

He crouches down in front of you. You slowly blink back to reality, now looking down at his back. You don’t want to speak so you poke his shoulder in questioning.

“Hop on. Let’s go somewhere else.”

“What if I’m heavy?” you look at the bags he’s already holding, feeling that you too are a burdened weight he doesn’t need to hold. 

“I’ve got good muscles, remember? Good for farm work,” he’s patient and calm with you while his eyes watch the man from outside the glass cafe windows. “Come on, baby.”

Without thinking, you end up on his back. He carries you on his back, strong arms holding your legs while yours are loosely around his neck. Your insides are a flared up hurricane but at least that allows your body to forget the empty ache you left at the cafe. With your chin hooked over his shoulder, you watch the many people and downtown stores that pass by.

Sunghoon doesn’t exactly know where he’s walking, but thinks it’s best to end the day here and return you to the bus stop. He’s never seen that look on your face before—the one you had when the man was loud in your face. He didn’t like it, and he’s sure you hated it. You looked intimidated, or afraid. 

“Would you kill him for me?” you watch the side of his face, “the reverend, I mean.” 

He stops in his tracks and turns his head to look back at you, “w-what? I can’t kill someone… and you should joke like that.” he panics, looking around to see if someone was listening to the wild conversation and request.

“Yeah, I know. I’m fucking with you,” you look away to hide your smirk, “and only half joking.”

“Did you believe him before?” He starts walking again, but this time at a slower pace knowing the bus stop isn’t too far now. 

“Who? My dad or Our Father?” There’s a use of air quotes at the end of your question. 

“Both?” his head tilts. 

“Neither,” you confirm. There’s a pause for thought and Sunghoon waits for you to further explain. “My relationship with both is too similar. They’ve both known me my whole life, right? Seen all of my wrong doings and in return shown wrath through unnecessary punishments called forgiveness. In what good world is tolerance violent?”

“What do you mean? What did he do?”

“Sometimes, after my mother set the table for dinner, he would knock my plate to the floor. Tell me to eat off the ground like the animal I was or starve.” Sunghoon frowns at this, coming to a slow stop when he sees the bus shelter bench. “Sometimes I had days and nights locked in the barns, but he switched it up to the basement when I was too close with the animals.” You laugh a little, but he senses the pain behind it. “I watched him kill the animals, too, only to smother me in their blood. Beatings were rare, but I think only because he despised the thought of even touching me.”

Sunghoon slowly sets you down to the ground and breathes out your name safely, taking your hands into his. He looks at you with sorrow, like he was the one who endured it with you. 

“God’s orders, am I right? My father, the church goers, speak of God like they’ve seen his face and heard his voice, but they haven’t. I would’ve by now too.” 

If He was really in everything, all around, why did He always turn a blind eye? Why does He pretend to not know you? It only made it harder to believe in—something that would bring you here, torture you then watch you suffer for not living how it pleases. God wants to be believed in, but so do you. Only you would never beg for compassion. 

Sunghoon squeezes your hands in his, “I don’t think you should stay there. You never deserved that… even if you’re volatile and strange… because you’re also kind and caring. It’s why I like you. It’s their fault for not seeing that,” he reassures. “I haven’t been through what you have, and I can’t understand. I-I mean I can try to, ya know… it’s not like I’d leave if I didn’t.” His words begin to stumble nervously, not confident in its sympathy reaching you where needed.

You laugh nervously, trying to tug your hands away from his grip that doesn’t let up. “Okay sure whatever, this is really embarrassing now…” You swallow hard and find difficulty in meeting his eyes. 

That’s all that matters, what he said to you, but you didn’t have it in you to say it. He already knows it though, smiling small and holding your hands still. Without words or excessive displays he can still see it in your eyes, the subtle comfort of acceptance. 

He could never blame you for your nature. He sees your anger as you just trying to be strong all while being sad. Whether you are his lover or executioner, he would accept you as you are every time with open arms, receiving hands. Even more readily, now.

　Even more time has passed since knowing Sunghoon. Summer has never flown by so fast. The calendar doesn’t exist to you anymore. It’s only the days you see him and the days that you don’t. The season will be wrapping up in the next few weeks, but only for him. He has to return to his regular scheduled routine of pursuing education while you will stay here, on the farm. It’s rare for you to feel this emotion: fear. You are scared of losing him. And the concept is something you do your best to avoid thinking about because it makes your skin itch with anxiety. It crawls over you like something that needs to be cut out. 

And then an idea hits you. Something far more deep-seated than everything else you’ve done with Sunghoon that would solidify that this summer is real and yours. Something that will always stay; a reminder that good things are possible despite how the world has made you. 

It’s a damn near perfect day. The sun is so bright, and only peers down onto you both through the gaps of the trees. It’s just warm enough. Just quiet enough aside from the sound of Sunghoon’s gentle breathing and natural composition of the nature that surrounds. Rustling of leaves, chirps of birds, and scurrying of whatever life that wishes to not be seen. 

You both sit criss cross at the wooden dock by the lake, simply enjoying the scenery and all it has to offer. His large knee is affixed to yours. If this was early June, you would have moved away. But now it’s a week into August and you wouldn’t have it anywhere else. Just like you always imagined, and secretly wanted, the view is nicer with someone else. 

He didn’t bother asking why you never brought him here before, or why it is that you chose to now. He’s just happy that you decided to at all. 

You slip a hand into your boot and pull out a pocket knife. You flick it open and do a brief inspection of the cleaned blade. The sun glints off the metal as you turn it. 

“Sunghoon, do you trust me?” 

His eyes flicker from your blank face to the blade. He nods slowly with a swallow, “of course.” There’s a subtle apprehension to him. You hand him the small blade and leave your palm facing up, open to him. 

“Cut a diagonal line down my hand,” you point and draw a line down the middle of your palm. 

“Huh, seriously?” he takes the blade confused and concerned with what you’re asking of him. “Why? I can’t hurt you.”

“Do it. Don’t think of it as hurting me, but still do it deep enough to leave a scar.” 

He struggles to understand the situation, but you’re so serious and clearly waiting for him to do as you asked. He exhales deeply, taking your hand in his while the other holds the knife just above the bared skin. Hesitant and slow, the tip of the knife pressed down into your flesh. You wince a little, which makes him pause. You nod, encouraging him to continue and he does despite hating the act. He slices the palm of your hand open just as you wanted. You hate blood, but it’s not so bad when caused by him.

“Shit, it stings,” you swallow through the pain. The feel of open flesh burning and stinging. “Your turn,” you exhale while taking the knife back with your free, unharmed hand. 

“My turn,” he agrees as if all logic has left him and readily displays his palm to you. Deep down, he feels guilty for hurting you, so to make it even he wants to feel the same.

Just as hesitant and careful, you create a matching wound in his hand. A deep enough, bleeding, lesion in his left hand to match  your right one. He cringes at the sight and the pain before looking back to your face. Your expression is so soft yet attentive, almost awestruck. 

“Even when you hurt me you’re gentle,” he remarks, watching you in amazement with a meek smile. 

“I am not gentle. I have sullied you,” you remind him, your eyes attempt to glare but they’re too bright in his. 

“In the softest way, why?” His voice is delicate and still like the lake that sits before you. You blink slowly at him because there are no words to be found. He continues, “I never thought of you as a bad person,” he pauses as you drop the red stained knife, unsure if he should continue at first but does regardless. “And, uhm, I’ve thought a lot about this summer. What I've learned from you. Purity is constructive—like something made to bring shame.” You don’t move, watching him. “I don’t have to be clean to be good…and your hands never made me dirty. Because they never were either.” 

Like an excavator to your tall, strong built walls Sunghoon has knocked your shield down. The facade of your character is breaking down, crumbling into the broken pieces that made it. A single tear escapes your eye and runs down your cheek. It’s rare for you to cry and you’re disgusted with the reality as to why it’s now that you break. Simply falling apart from kind words. 

You try to use everything in you to ignore the heat in your body, to show the anger you think you’re feeling inside. So your eyes remain sharp and strong, boring into his, as they still water. You swallow the dry lump in your throat and without a word, you take his hand into yours to join in a mix of blood. 

At first, you had one goal; one similar to murder. The sparkle he had in his eyes, you wanted to eat—to make them empty—and see the world ugly and godless like you. Yet somehow, somewhere along the way, his eyes shone even brighter. You only wanted to take and take of the innocent boy, but in this moment you realize, maybe I just wanted to give him some of me. 

You wipe the wet drop away from your face with haste, pretending as if it was never there. Whatever blood oath you’re making with Sunghoon allows you to feel something indescribable. You don’t know if it’s deserved, but you smile anyways. Because the indescribable feeling feels like it’s an unknown, unspoken promise. 

He’s seen you smile before with insidious malice, but this time, for the first time, you are really smiling. It’s a raw expression of surfacing emotions, and he returns the emotion like the sun. He thought of you beautiful before but with your brightness finally peering through your clouds, he believes you to be heaven sent. A part of him always wanted to see you cry—usually it was him with tears in his eyes; which is funny, because he wasn’t much of a cryer himself. You just had that way of breaking him down. He knows now he does for you too. And he can tell that you’re probably the type of person who needs to cry the most. 

His hand squeezes yours tighter, a grip so loving, as you bind in one. Neither of your eyes or smiles leave each other until the bleeding stops. 

　A week later, Sunghoon asks you on a date. The summer fair is in town. It’s something like a festival where all the locals from towns around the city come to visit and join in on festivities from carnival games, rides, food, and uncommon entertainments. You think of being mean, denying him the acceptance of the date, but you have always wanted to go. So you said yes without your words: took his scarred hand in yours and nodded. 

The evening sky is a watercolor of warm tones as the sun begins to lay down for the night. The bright lights of the fair illuminate the large open field turned carnival. There’s a sea of people here tonight, and although it makes you nervous inside, having Sunghoon by your side makes the ordeal easier to handle. 

The line for the ticket booth is lengthy but it passes by. You approach the booth, standing a little behind Sunghoon who takes out his wallet to buy your entrance wristband passes and tickets. You look around at the many people: families, friends, and couples, all immersed in their own experience as the music and sounds blend in the background of conversations. 

“Oh wow! You’re really handsome,” the girl at the ticket booth gawks at Sunghoon. She straightens her posture and fixes her hair from her face, “one ticke-?”

Catching this, you step forward and snatch Sunghoon’s wallet from his hands, “he already knows that. Do your job or I’ll feed you to pigs.” You slap the cash amount for what you need down onto the table top with a straight face and mean eyes. 

Her eyes go wide and she hushes an apology, quickly giving you both wristbands and tickets for the evening. She even threw in extra tickets as you stared her down. 

Sunghoon watches you with a flushed face, even the tips of his ears burn red at your jealous threat. You both walk off into the fair, a sheepish smile on his face as he leads you through the crowd with an arm wrapped around your back and hand to your waist. 

“Was that one of your jokes too?” he grins down at you.

“Nope,” you glance at him with a small smile. You weren’t sure what came over you in the moment, but it was something internally deep, and territorial. An innate reaction to someone trying to appeal to something that belongs to you. It felt ugly and you didn’t like it. 

The idea that he could possibly be taken from you was a phenomenon you’ve thought of for a while now. Knowing he has an existing life outside you, outside of this summer, that he would return you made you sick. You’re far from perfect, or the right thing for him, and he could find a safer option if he ever pleased. Pushing the thoughts away is harder than you imagine, so you cling to his side even more. 

You and Sunghoon use up your spare tickets for carnival games. You toss rings around bottles, shoot water guns into the mouth of a clown frame, and throw darts at balloons. The both of you aren’t very skilled at any of the games, but it's fun enough to enjoy the time without winning a prize to show for it. 

Eventually, Sunghoon does find frustration within the ‘rigged’ set up of the games. He even pulls out his wallet for cash when the tickets are gone. You’re surprised at how competitive he is; his determined nature is something that stirs your insides around. You don’t know if you’ve ever smiled so much in your life. 

After 3 rounds of throwing a ball to knock over a moving target, he does manage to win. Going 3 for 3 and not missing a single shot. The excitement you feel when he succeeds takes over and you’re proud, doing little jumps in place and clapping your hands together. 

“You did it! You won!” you exclaim, hugging onto his side. 

He can only smile down at your joyfulness. A fire burns in his heart and he hugs you back, kissing your forehead. “All for you. Which prize do you want?” 

“It’s yours, you should pick it,” you blush, elbowing his side with a shy smile while your eyes keep looking up to the stuffed white lamb with a lace ribbon around its neck and a cushion gold bell adoring the throat. 

Of course, that’s the prize he ends up choosing. It might not be Saint Michael the stuffed bear, but it’s something far happier, cleaner, and softer. 

The stuffed animal never leaves your hold throughout the rest of the evening. It rides the many rides you and Sunghoon do. And sits at the picnic table with you both as you share fair snacks. Popcorn and cotton candy was never so sweet for either of you. Like contentment melting on your tongues. 

Cliche as ever, Sunghoon wants to end the night there with a round on the ferris wheel. The line moves quickly and when it’s your turn to step into the carriage, he takes your hand and sits you down the seat next to him. 

It moves slowly and rocks back and forth with shaky movements that have you gripping the side handles. With an arm around your shoulder, he holds you close to him. The array of flickering colorful lights and people below you feels almost magical. 

Taking your eyes from the heightened difference between you and the ground, you look back to the boy beside you who is already looking at you. The reflection of rainbow luminescence glistens in his eyes. It’s even prettier than the view from the top of the little world you’re in. You give him a shy smile, finding it impossible to look away. 

He says your name in a whisper, taking your chin between your fingers. “Thank you for choosing to let me in.” 

Confused and wide eyed, you watch him lean into your face. You gasp when his lips meet yours before returning the notion. With eyes closed, you melt into his kiss. It’s sweet as all the things you’ve experienced today because of him. 

It’s also as clumsy and messy as a kiss can be for two people who’ve never done so before. However, human nature and desire take over and ease the rest for you both. Lips move over another in a gentle waltz, careful and slow. 

And as if the situation couldn’t get anymore cliche, fireworks light up the sky. At first you thought it was just your imagination and all the books you’ve read flooding your consciousness, but the booming sounds and cheers of the crowd are too loud to not be real. 

You pull away from him first, and he’s already wearing a shit eating grin so wide that you can’t help but roll your eyes, fighting the urge to smile back at him. Your face burns in both embarrassment and adrenaline from the kiss. 

After that, you don’t leave the city like you should. The bus takes you both back downtown but neither you or Sunghoon feel it’s time for goodbye. So, for the first time, he takes you back to his apartment. You’ve never been to anybody else's home before, and it’s nerve wracking to say the least. The complex is large and somewhat modern, housing many of the second and third year private college students.

When you step inside, it’s quite plain but at least clean. You’re immediately greeted by a boy shorter than Sunghoon. He has a big mouth smile and shining dark eyes. His hair is shaggy but it suits him. He’s practically bouncing on his toes. You shift yourself behind Sunghoon and hold onto his shirt, hiding slightly from the excited puppy-like roommate. 

“How did it go? Oh, and nice to finally meet you,” he rambles out quickly, “I’m Jake. The best friend and roommate. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He shoots Sunghoon a wink before grinning back at you. He extends a hand for you to shake but you don’t reach out. Something about his eyes doesn’t sit right with you. 

“She’s shy,” Sunghoon laughs a little as he guides you past Jake and towards his room. “It was fun though. I recommend going before it’s gone.”

“Ah, you got yourself a nice little angel, huh?” Jake leans over the kitchen island, watching you both. His smile falters. “I’ll have one of my own some day.” For some reason, you think of him as a secret pervert.

Sunghoon laughs his comment off and tells Jake goodnight before showing you to his room. His room is neat and as simple as a college boy’s room can be. A bed, desk, dresser, closet, and bathroom. One poster of a musician you’ve never listened to and a window with unopened blinds. 

You sit yourself at the end of his bed and he sits down next to you. There’s some awkward silence as you look around, unsure of what you’re supposed to do. He feels similarly to your internal dilemma. 

“I-I’ve never had-”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off. Of course he’s never had a girl over. And of course you’ve never been over to a boys house. 

“Are you tired?” he asks, and you lie by nodding your head. So you both get ready for bed. He gives you a shirt to borrow for bed that change into in his bathroom while he changes into sweats and a t-shirt in his room. 

In minutes you’re both laying in his bed under the covers and staring up at his ceiling in the dark room. Not a word is said as you both lay there wide awake and untouching. But you know he’s wanting to by the way his body is shifting and turning, inching closer with every minute movement. 

And before you know it, although expected, his body is nestled closely to yours. His arms wrap around you, pulling you into an embrace. For the most part, he usually does keep his space. Knowing how you are when it comes to physical touch that feels too sudden or invading. But with barriers breaking down more over time, he thinks you’re learning to handle the comfort better. 

“I thought you were tired?” he mumbles, head on your shoulder. His hands trace up and down your arms that are wrapped around yourself like a guard. 

“I lied,” you whisper. Your eyes can’t look at him yet, so they remain aimless to the ceiling. Some moonlight slips through his cracked window blinds, giving you enough view of the spinning ceiling fan. 

“I had fun today. Mostly because you did. I like seeing you happy,” he smiles after kissing your shoulder that’s exposed in the neckline of his shirt too big for you. “And… I liked when you kissed me back,” his voice is quiet and shy-like. 

“Do you want to do it again?” Your eyes shift to him and you can barely see the warm flush to his cheeks. He’s cute. 

Taken aback at first, he just blinks at you with a parted mouth. Then he nods his head slowly, licking over his lips. 

You turn over onto your side to face him and his hands don’t leave your waist. Unsure of what to do with your own, you wrap them around his neck. Good thing they sit behind him and it’s dark in the room because it would kill you for him to notice the slight tremor in your fingers. 

With a scarily racing heart and stiff, trembling body you surge forward to kiss him. His lips are quick to capture yours. Soft and pillow-like, they mold into yours in waves. What starts off as clumsy and unskilled turns into hunger. Something desperate and needy. His grip feels bruising to your hips but in a nice way. In a way you want it to hurt more. 

His nails digging further into your flesh to keep you impossibly close make your lips gasp, or maybe it’s the lack of air, or just both. And instinctively his tongue is licking its way past your lips and into your mouth. He kisses you like he’s starved for it. His wet tongue drags over yours, and your teeth, then as far as it can inside of you. He whimpers, pressing his already hard cock to you as he licks and kisses you open. 

Your stomach has never burned this way before, and you feel the hot sensation all over then down to your core that aches like it’s hungry too. You feel disgusted by yourself but can’t fight the hum you make as you devour him right back. You’re getting wetter every second he’s in your mouth. 

This time, he pulls away first. Panting for air and staring at you with glazed over dark eyes. He licks over his wet lips again, savoring the taste of you on himself. He bites down onto it and a part of you wishes it was you he sunk his teeth in. 

“Can I do what I did last time?” he breathes out, his hips involuntarily jerking up against you at the thought alone. 

While trying to act like you’re not catching your breath too, you say quietly, “do whatever you want.” 

He kisses you again but with more desperation. You try to do the same but you can feel your heart and your head preparing for battle. The way he’s feeling you up and grinding himself on you is in no way unwanted, and that’s part of the reason you’re struggling to maintain presence. 

It’s so much happening so quickly, but you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t imagine this happening eventually. Sex was inevitable. The way his body yearns to be one with yours makes you feel special almost. He’s already engraved into you but in his mind he has to be inside of you and it hurts so badly how you think the same. 

But is the last thing that keeps him pure really yours to take? You’ve stripped so much away from him for all the wrong reasons before and now it feels strange. You are no good and that’s all he is. 

The only thing keeping you here, in the moment, is him. His exploratory and gentle yet rough hands, his body grinding into you, his lips that can’t leave yours or your skin for even a second, and the weak wanting sounds that leave them. 

“I need more, please. I want- I need to feel good with you. Please,” he’s whining into your ear. Then pressing kisses along your jaw and neck that are all so tender, slow, and deliberate. Large hands caress you like you’re breakable, as if not already just a body of fragmented pieces made whole and called a person. 

Your still shaking hand reaches down between your two bodies and slips past his sweats. He had the nerve to go commando and you wish you could tease him, but you can’t. You’re lucky you’re even here right now and breathing his air. Your hand wraps around his aching length and gives him a few tugs to which he’s quick to moan. He kicks off his sweatpants while you bring him closer to you. The plush of your thighs trap him; he whimpers against the soft heat of your flesh. 

Your hips grind up into him once, showing him what he should do too. He’s slow to start, rocking himself between your thighs. Slutty and hopeless sounds leave him in a string of his want. His leaking hard cock is so close to your core. Only the thin layer of your underwear keeps him from feeling your clear need for him too. 

Wrapped in each other's arms, you bury your head to his shoulder. You can feel the pulse of his aching desire rubbing and grinding against you. It makes you shiver in sensitivity and cower further into his neck. You don’t bite down onto your lip, but his neck. There’s a sting to your eyes because you hate it—the wet warmth that pools out of you. Your sin sticks to your underwear and your skin like the red raining life of all the animals you made leave the earth; your haunting subconscious correlates with your growing pleasure. 

You know you’re not religious yet every time Sunghoon touches you there’s a divinity to it and it makes your hands want to join in prayer to thank the universe for sending someone like him to you. Because his hands roam your body as if they have in every world; as if there is not one timeline where you have not been made for him. Like you were carved from his rib every time. 

Your body smolders in that angry way it always did whenever Sunghoon got too close to you. Whenever his words were too kind, his touch too gentle, or god forbid when he just smiled at you. That fire is just the divine nature of your relationship, lighting up everywhere he touches and leaving flames in the wake. You thought it was your body rejecting his purity, but you were only denying the likeness. He made you feel good. And in the most ironic way possible. You just didn’t think you deserved it. 

Yet an anguished moan leaves you, rumbling against his skin as you bite down harder. Regardless of it all, he is yours right now. 

The feeling of your sinking teeth in him, the sounds you’re now making, and the damp heat between your legs he can’t stop chasing all makes his head spin. He bites down onto you just the same and it only makes you moan louder. 

“Please,” he’s whining again through the bite. His voice a needy tremble while his hips stutter and thrust between your legs that only squeeze tighter together. The way the fat of your legs hug his raging cock through his desperate grinds makes him chase more and more for that feeling he just can’t seem to reach. The crying tip kisses and pushes up then past your leaking folds every time. It drives you both insane. 

If your body is the fiery lake of creation's deepest pit, then he is the cleanest ocean of earth’s highest point. If anyone could extinguish you, and possibly make you feel whole, it was Sunghoon. 

This is the most horrifying reality you’ve come face to face with. Not just intimacy, but a stronger driving emotion. You have to open yourself, rip open your chest and bare your beating heart in all its naked vulnerability. Let it scream out I like being with you. You have allowed this person into your world that nobody else has dared to step foot in. To see you in such ugly ways yet still extend their arms for you. It’s a terrifying level of closeness that you’ve never once experienced and you don’t know what to do with. You’re beyond perplexed by what he’s done to you, in both terror and awe.  

You pull back from Sunghoon and he pauses everything for a moment to look at you, noticing your wet eyes. Before he can ask what’s wrong you reach down and slip off your underwear. You shift your body and maneuver him as best you can until he’s on top of you. Rattled with concealed embarrassment you remove his shirt and toss it somewhere to the floor, and he does the same. 

You take a deep breath and reach back down to his cock, lining it up with your pussy. You blink and swallow away all the things trying to stop you from allowing yourself him. Pliant beneath him, you grab his shoulders and pull him down to you for a quick kiss. Foreheads now pressed together with lips ghosting over the others, you tell him, “I hate you.” 

Sunghoon only smiles down at you before kissing you once more. With his arms caged around you, he slowly pushes himself forward. The fat tip of his cock fails to go through you, only sliding up and past the wet folds. He whines feeling the warm slick coat the head; his entire body shudders. He nearly cums from that alone. 

He looks at you confused, and nod once while trying to shift your hips around for a better angle. It’s not like you to be so quiet during things like this. It only tells him that for once, you’re nervous about new things the way he was. 

So he tries again, this time a little rougher. He thrusts his hips forward, the tip pushing past the tight walls but still barely in. You whimper at the intrusion and the feeling of you being stretched open. Your hands squeeze hold onto his biceps for purchase. 

The tight sensation of your pussy squeezing his tip feels otherworldly to him. He can’t help but need to sink deeper into you. His cock pushes in further at an agonizing pace until he’s as deep as he can possibly go. His arms shake while he tries to maintain his strength and keep himself from collapsing onto you completely. The wet walls that surround him flutter and try to pull him further inside, making him feel lightheaded. His moans are so needy it’s almost like he’s crying from the feeling. 

“Oh, f-fuck!” you whimper. Having Sunghoon completely inside of you feels so full. You’re stuffed with him and it hurts so good. “You gotta move, Hoon. Feels like you’re splitting me open.”

“You're so tight, mm.” His hips stutter from your words alone and he whimpers again. He pulls himself out halfway while your gummy walls kiss around him in an attempt to suck him back to be filled again. He begins to rock himself in and out of you. It’s inexperienced and awkward, but he gets the hang of it quickly. Doing what feels best for him and what seems to be the best for you too. 

“I hate you. I fucking hate you,” you whisper harshly, looking up at him with tear filled eyes. It all burns while feeling like heaven. Never have you been so full, held so gently, or seen than this summer. You bite back the breaking moans and whimpers. You claw at his skin. You even begin to cry when your hips can’t stop chasing his thrusts. 

“I love you too,” he whispers back. A kiss is pressed to your forehead as his cock pistons you. Sunghoon is smart enough to know you’re a liar. Your mean words that used to hurt him, he now understands. You’re not really a bad person. And you don’t hate him. You were just really damaged and if he’s damned for trying to heal that then he’s fine with that too. 

“I mean it,” your body shudders, feeling his tip pound so far and deep in places inside you that you didn’t know reachable. His fat cock drags out and forces through your tight hole, making you cream all over him more and more. The sounds that leave your body, the sounds your bodies are making, it’s so obscene. Fighting off the disgust and focusing on how he makes you feel is war. It’s so hard for you to win. 

“No you don’t,” he shifts himself to sit on his knees, taking your legs and wrapping them around his waist. He leans forward and kisses both of your cheeks before fucking himself into you again, only harder and faster than before. 

“Ngh,” you moan again through broken sobs, blinking away the tears as you stare up at him. “I’m t-trying to.” 

“I know, baby.” he mumbles before capturing your wobbling lips into a searing kiss. “It’s okay, haah, don’t cry. You’re good. You’re so good for me,” he says against your wet lips. You can only sniffle and try to turn your head away from him in your embarrassment. “No, no.” he takes your chin with his thumb and finger, forcing you to look back at him. His thrusts never letting up during his care. “Look at me. You’re so good to me.” He reminds you over and over. “We’re so good together. I’m yours. you’re mine.” 

“Say it again,” you sniffle through little sounds of sin. Your hand finds a place on his cheek, and your thumb rubs over his lips that wear a smile. 

“You’re so good, good for me. We are so good together. I am yours. And you are mine,” he says softly. His eyes are so filled with love, and if you could see your reflection in his then you would know yours are too. “Say you’re good, baby, it’s okay.”

“I’m good,” you sob through your whimpers, “I’m yours.”

To Sunghoon, the idea of sex was always sacred. Something that’s only done and shared between lovers bound by marriage of the church. But now, he thinks differently. He knows that there is no shame in him loving you now or years later. And he was more than happy to make love to you all night until you believed it too. 

　Perhaps there was a thing such as divine intervention and if God’s timing was alway right, he knew how to be evil with it too. Because the next day, when Sunghoon takes you home, he’s met with your maker. 

Your mother, aware of the frequent trips you’ve been making and how close you’ve grown to the summer farmhand boy, is quick to make a call to your father the night you don’t return home. It wasn’t necessarily because she cared for your well being. You’re more than capable of handling yourself. But it was an excuse to try and get him to come back. Only it doesn’t go how she wanted.

When you see the reverend’s car parked in front of your house, your heart drops. Sunghoon picks up on your tension, He sees how you go blank at the sight and slowly turn back into the empty girl he met months ago. He tries to hold your hand but your fingers can’t move, can’t return the embrace. 

When the reverend walks out of the house with his infamous weapon of sacrificial forgiveness, you know what to do. Your body moves on its own, leaving Sunghoon to reach out for you that walks towards the woods. He goes to follow you and the desolate man that stalks behind, but your mother stops him. She’s hysterical as she drags him towards your house saying, “it’s going to be okay.” But she’s crying. 

Once out of their sight, the reverend takes you by the hair. He yanks your head around, pulling you towards that cursed tree. He’s uncharacteristically rough and your scalp screams for a release but you don’t show it. You don’t even look at the man. Not even when he’s tossing your body to the ground. 

“So you’re whoring around with my employees now, huh? Was ruining this farm not enough for you?” His words mean nothing to you. You dust off the dirt and go to stand again, but he kicks you back down. You tsk under your breath as he speaks again, “I’ve seen all the things you’ve done. Seen you leave my barns with red hands and smile. Cut heads off chickens like an anatomy project. Is he next? That church boy?” 

Now you look up to glare at him. Seeing the reverend was aggravating enough, but to say something about Sunghoon was infuriating to you. “I am not a killer. You are! And those animals were already dead.” You spit at his black leather church shoes. 

“Oh, you disgusting little devient,” he laughs lowly, untying the rope from the tree. “Your cruelty shouldn’t bring you joy. Sick and twisted, I should’ve dealt with you sooner regardless of what your drunk bitch mother protested. I can save the boy when you’re gone.” 

“What?” you shuffle backwards from him, angry and confused as he stalks closer to you until you’re backed against the tree. “All those things I did was because of you. Your righteousness made me rotten!” Your hands shake, gripping at the dirt ground for anything to make the fear stop. You glance up to the empty tree branch then the rope in his hands. Where is the lamb? You think briefly before it hits you. “You’re crazy,” you whisper, “I will not be your martyr… not now what I’m finally-”

“Condemn me to Hell for all I care,” he crouches down in front of you, “This is the last time I’ll be a killer.” He throws the rope to your lap and tells you to tether yourself. 

“Why do you hate me?” The words scratch at your throat. When you were younger, you did want the reverend to hate you. It was when he noticed you most, and it’s all you really knew. But now you’re older, and his disdain never made sense. 

You can’t bring yourself to move even if you wanted to. Was this His plan? To allow you one good thing in life before ending it? Was ruining Sunghoon your final sin? 

The rope shakes with your fingers as you stare down at it. The twine of the rope burns over the palm of your hand where Sunghoon carved his promise. Your throat feels dry, tight and suffocating; choking on everything you’ve ever done. And your eyes still puffy from the night before well with tears all over again. 

“I just do,” he thinks of slicing your neck open right there. So fuck tying you down, you were always secretly another lamb anyways. He raises his knife and the metal sits cold under your chin as he lifts your head up to look back at him. 

“Okay…” you swallow. 

Your eyes squeeze shut and so does your mouth, as you raise your head to the sky with an exposed throat. Why isn’t this easy? Unlike the animals, you do know what’s coming. And it’s scary. Scary not because of death, but because you aren’t ready. You haven’t told Sunghoon goodbye or that you love him back. And the thought of him finding something in this world to hate, is such an ugly feeling to die with. 

And then there’s a loud noise. A booming bang, followed by unsteady feet falling back and the ground rumbling with a thud. 

You open your eyes and your father is on his back clutching his abdomen. He coughs and gasps before raising his hand. It’s dripping in deep red. And you can’t help but smile with tears in your eyes as you exhale a jagged breath.

You turn your head and Sunghoon stands there with the shotgun in hand, open mouthed and wide eyed. 

“Sunghoon!” you scramble to your feet and run over to him, taking the gun from his hands as he’s frozen in shock. 

“H-he was going to- he was about to hurt you. I had to-!” he stutters, his eyes already crying and hands shaking, still feeling the weight and recoil of the gun. 

“It’s okay,” you coo softly. “Just- go back to the house and I’ll be right there, okay?” You rush out. Still in shock and dazed, he blindly trusts you and does as you say. 

When he’s no longer close by, you walk over to the reverend with a blank face. You stare down at him as he tries to crawl away, dirty and bleeding. The smile you make doesn’t reach your eyes. 

You point the gun back down at him, and place your foot over the shot wound Sunghoon created. The man gasps and tries to swat at your leg but you only press the gun further into his face, making him surrender. 

“Divine intervention, huh? Say it with me now. I know no punishment, only mercy.” Your voice is quiet, calm, and mocking of his tone. With the barrel to his forehead, you watch him writhe in pain and cough up a little blood. 

“Go to Hell,” he spits his words like venom. 

“If you say it, I’ll let you live. But if you show your face to me or Sunghoon again, I’ll shoot you right between the eyes.” Your foot presses down harder. You can feel that angry little girl inside of you jumping with joy.. Knowing his God demands to be bled for, and making him know the sacrificial suffering, well it feels good to say the least. “Say it. With me. Now.” Each word pronounced with the growing applied pressure to his shot wound. And then he begs for forgiveness. He’s never seen you smile the way you did when he was below you with those words. Empty eyes were never so alive for him either. He cries and chants ‘I know no punishment, only mercy’ over and over. It was like the most beautiful hymn.

　There wasn’t much to be said about that day. Sunghoon and you just pretend you shared a nightmare. Neither of you talked about it. It was just another thing that tied you together. 

Sitting there in the peak of summer’s heat. A day before Sunghoon returns to college classes. Birds chirp. The leaves of the tall trees thistle in the light breezes that pass by. Sunghoon sits criss crossed and while you have your feet hanging off the edge of the dock, kicking in the water. 

“I’m sorry,” you break the silence. Shocked, he looks over to you. He never would have expected you to apologize for anything. “I was selfish when I approached you. I wanted to take all that goodness out of you and keep it for myself. I thought I wanted to hurt you, but after sharing all this time with you, I realized I was wrong. It’s weird to say it out loud,” you laugh small, awkward, “but I really am sorry. I love you more than even I know.” You stare down to your feet in the water that has gone still. A tear falls from your eye, and down to your cheek. 

“I know. I love you too,” he wraps an arm around your waist. “But now the same sins bind us.” You hiccup silently and turn to look up at him. “Harvest all of my purity, farmer’s daughter.” 

For the first time, you really laugh. It’s bright and loud like the big smile he’s seeing for the first time on his favorite face. It’s morning sunlight that whispers through trees to kiss the forest floor. Birds that sing songs of hope to awake life into a new day. Nostalgic, expansive days of childhood where the concept of time doesn’t exist. To him, you look like the epitome of summer; he doesn’t want this season to end. 

You were never the lamb. Or the wolf. Not an animal at all. Nothing like the ones you grew up with. You were just a girl, scared and alone. But not anymore. Because it’s your last day on this farm, and tomorrow is the first with only Sunghoon. 

“Your humor is poetry.” you continue to laugh until tears prick your eyes all over again. You love it. 

“It wasn’t supposed to be funny.” he looks away shyly, blushing. It only makes your giggle more, but you stop to press a kiss to his cheek. He blushes harder. 

“I’ll keep doing it, harvesting all of your purity, for as long as you’re good.” you say with a smile. 

“Do you promise? I am always good, especially with you, so it could be a long while.” He bumps your shoulder playfully with a laugh. 

You take his scarred hand in yours and you laugh like he did, pure and true, “I do.”

© fangel ┊ do not copy, repost, modify or translate my content ໒꒱ tysm for reading, ⌗unlearn shame ⌇ taglist @tinycatharsis @simjaexy @leehsngs @511rkive @beomluvrr @jjongsaengzz @slvtella @jaerisdiction @kkamismom12 @rayofsunshineeee @nshmrarki @m3wkledreamy @hanjisbeloved @filmnings @stercul1a @hooniesfvngs @moriwori @sleepyhoon

[lighting-and-shadow]

Ikigai, Part 5

Summary: You’re desperately in love with a man who already belongs to another.

Ikigai (n.) (Japanese): "A reason for being," the thing that gets you up in the morning.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 6

You awake to Sylus next to you. You aren’t cuddled up in his arms like you were a few days ago. Rather, he cradles one of your hands in his. It’s surrounded in his warmth.

You’re half tempted to keep it that way, to soak in this little moment because you know that odds are you won’t be getting many of these in the near future. You ignore that part of you and carefully remove your hand from his.

He tries to resist, even while in deep slumber (the man’s always slept like the dead since you started regularly sleeping in the same room). It’s adorable, like he can’t bare to let you go so much that it shows up in his sleep. You smile down at him drowsily.

You move your other hand to stroke his hair. Sylus thankfully doesn’t stir awake. You need this moment to yourself. Because while you’re still hurt by his words, you’ve missed his touch. You’ve missed the quiet moments of intimacy the two of you would have with each other daily.

Somedays you’d curl up on one of the couches as you’d read a book to him, either because he was being lazy that day or because it was in a language he didn’t speak (you learned many languages during your time in the auction and wandering about). Others you’d just sit in the living room together, him disassembling and reassembling a gun while you cut a jewel he got you from a client. On rare occasions, you’d dance with him and the twins early in the morning playing some obscure vinyl record.

Small moments were what made up you two’s relationship. Small moments that mean the world to you. You twirl a lock of his hair on your finger, just letting yourself relax.

Sylus’ stirring shatters the quiet scene. You jerk your hand away as fast as possible. Seeing those crimson eyes again just reminds you of what he said.

“Have you awaken, sleeping beauty?” You tease.

Your voice is hoarse. And Sylus quickly moves to grab you some water. You take small sips, surprised by how abused your throat feels.

I wasn’t asleep for that long, was I?

Sylus, sensing your confusion, whispers, “You were screaming before you passed out.”

You flush at his words. Screaming? You don’t remember doing that.

You stare down at the cup in your hands. Despite Sylus’ gentle tone and expression, you couldn’t help but be embarrassed. Having a mental breakdown was bad enough. But screaming your lungs out to the point of hurting your voice? That was just pathetic.

“Maybe I finally cracked under the weight of my foolish boss and his many messes?”

Your words are meant to be light-hearted; they do the exact opposite. Sylus’ face falls, and you watch his thread thrash like a wild animal. It’s alive with a storm of emotion. And you caused it.

The more vengeful part of you is satisfied by this. He’s caused you so much turmoil over the past few days. A little pain could do him good. He’s lied to you, and broken your heart. Not that he knows the latter or how deep the former goes.

Because despite working and being with Sylus for so long, you’ve never told him the truth. Not about your abilities nor about your past. Sure, you’ve told him bits and pieces, little stories about your childhood and what you did for work before Onychinus. But not the hard stuff.

You’ve never told him about the depth of the abandonment, of the betrayal of so many. You’ve never told him how far your loneliness runs. You’ve never told him that you have no soulmate. You’ve never told him what you could see.

You’ve wanted to. Many times, in fact, have the words almost slipped past your lips. But you’ve never let them truly fall out. Because why would you tempt history repeating itself?

“You changed my clothes?” You break the tension with a silly question.

The large, fancy black shirt smells of him. Of his cologne, and the unique scent that is Sylus. It clings to your skin. You love it.

“We both know mine suit you better, Gamayun.”

His voice isn’t as steady as usual. It trembles.

“Are you insulting my preferences?”

You turn to him.

“No. Just saying that mine will always be better.”

He looks at you with a soft expression. His hands drift to yours, fingers encircling your wrists and allowing the rest of your hands to sit on his palms. His eyes never leave yours during this. He’s studying you for any discomfort or any sign of you not wanting his touch. As if you ever could.

When you accept his touch, his eyes light up. The smile he gives you melts your heart.

“Keep telling yourself that foolish man.”

It’s a beat of silence between the two of you.

“I’m sorry, Gamayun,” you almost don’t hear what he says. “I’m so sorry.”

Sylus’ head is bowed to you. He looks so small at the foot of the bed. You want to reach out and hold him, cradle him in your arms and let him be safe there. Just like you did the first time you two got drunk together and just talked about your pasts.

You think that was the moment you started falling for him: when you realized there was someone just as lonely and broken as you. Him, the last fiend, and you, the only person to ever be born without a soulmate. Him, blessed with the power to see people’s desires, and you, cursed to see the love which you can never have.

It’s poetic. And it hurts. It hurts how perfect you are for one another, but the universe decided against you two.

The feeling of Sylus’ eyes on you reminds you that you haven’t responded to his plea. He doesn’t reach out to touch you. It feels strangely empty. But you suppose it’s best you get used to this now rather than later.

“I don’t accept,” you force out.

You turn your head away from Sylus. Seeing whatever expression he has on his face now will weaken your resolve.

“Oh,” the small sound Sylus lets out is beyond painful.

“Yes, “oh,”” you dig your heart’s and your relationship with Sylus’ grave further with each word out of your mouth. “Did you think a simple apology would make me happy?”

Under normal circumstances, yes. If Sylus had said practically anything else to you during your argument, than an apology probably could’ve soothed you. But he said those words, those cursed words. The words that’ve torn through so many of your relationships. The words that rendered promises meaningless and time worthless.

He said those words. And thus, you don’t have it in your heart to forgive him.

“You can’t smooth this over like usual.”

Sylus wilts the more you speak. The large, imposing, figure he stouts shrinks upon your every word. You keep your eyes away from him, as if ignoring him will make the pain of what you’re doing soften.

“You’ve betrayed my trust, Sylus,” you say his name firmly as a reminder to yourself and him to not waiver and keep the boundary you’ve set up. “You’ve betrayed it in such a way I didn’t think you of all people could.”

Saying it aloud makes the hurt fresh all over again. It makes you go back to all the times where you’ve been in this position. All the times where people you thought cared for you hurt you the second they found their soulmate.

And the more it hurts, the more you laugh at yourself. You knew this would happen. You knew the second you fell in love with him this would happen.

But you still act like a victim. You still hurt the man you love because he committed the simple crime of loving his soulmate instead of you.

“I just need you to trust me on this. Please. This will all be over soon.”

Over because he’ll leave you, that dark, annoying, voice in your head whispers. Over because he’ll abandon you like all the rest.

“It is you who doesn’t trust me, Sylus. That’s how this all started. You didn’t trust me, which caused my trust in you to waver. I do not need to do anything for you.”

“How can I fix this?”

“Telling me the truth would be a start.”

He says nothing. You fall apart every second he doesn’t speak.

Why? Why are you so willing to protect her?

You ask the question despite knowing the answer: because soulmates are everything. You’ll never compare to her.

“Than can you even say you’re truly sorry? Or are you just trying to appease me?”

“Of course not. You know I never say anything I don’t mean.”

“So you meant to use those words exactly? You meant to shut me out? You meant to permanently warp our relationship?”

“That’s not what I—“

“Than what did you mean, Sylus?” You spit out his name like it’s poison; he flinches like you stabbed him. “Because that’s what I think you meant. We had a deal when I came to work for you, with you. And you broke it.”

Sylus whipped to face you. He has a wild look in his eyes, and his lips begin to quiver. It’s as if he can guess your next words.

“You gave me your word that you’d never lie to me. You promised me. And yet you’ve done exactly that.”

You take a shaky breath before you land the death blow, “I have every right to walk out of here, right here, right now.”

Sylus’ hand zip out to grab you by the shoulders. He forces you to face him. You could almost cry from how scared he looks. There’s an almost feral glow in his gaze, like the dragon he once was is bleeding into view again but just through his eyes. As if you’re some important piece of his hoard and someone’s trying to take you.

It burns you to do this to him. Because abandonment and loneliness is something the two of you bonded on. But broken trust is also something you bonded on. And he broke yours. And he’ll continue to break it for her.

“You either tell me the truth, or….”

“Or what?” Sylus sounds choked up, as if he’s about to cry.

“I don’t know yet. Maybe I’ll leave. Or maybe I’ll just stop being your Gamayun. I haven’t decided yet.”

You try to breath to steady yourself, your entire body vibrating with that one inhale, before finishing, “But none of that will happen if you just tell me the truth.”

“It is the truth. What I have with her and what I have with you cannot be compared.”

You say nothing more. You knew that; by God, you knew that. But it still hurts.

Why?

Why is he so willing to go so far for the woman who killed him? He’d risk you, his partner, for her. Lie to you. Hurt you. Betray you.

Leave you, a voice in your head says.

But not her. Not his killer. He’ll protect her no matter the cost. But you? You’re nothing. You’re nothing compared to the woman that he let take his life. Would he do such a thing for you?

No.

He knows she killed him. Murdered him. Shoved a claymore deep into his chest and ripped his life from him.

But he still loves her.

How could you possibly compete with that?

You quickly sit up further in Sylus’ bed to swing your legs to side of it. You needed to get up. You couldn’t stew in these thoughts any longer.

“Where… where are you going? Why are you running off?”

“And what would telling you accomplish? You have your secrets, I have mine.”

Sylus pulls back as if you’ve burned him. It’s a low blow, sure, but you’re no longer in a state to care. You just need to get out. So even though all you wear is his shirt, undergarments, and loose shorts, you leave the room. A brief glimpse of the closet you share with him reminds you that you’ll have to move your stuff soon.

Wouldn’t do good for Miss Hunter to see that. She’ll misunderstand.

Just like you’ve misunderstood. You’re not his. He’s not yours.

Author's Note: sort of comfort (?) next chapter. Not from Sylus though...

I'm so fucking mean.

Taglist: @eolivy, @rafayelridesfisheatsfish, @animegamerfox, @jasperjokester, @schrodingerskimdokja, @just--crys, @snowdynasty, @shi-thats-kiera, @mansonofmadness, @dwuclvr, @ameilli, @katiedoesstuff101, @everythingistaken00, @napa-the-yappa, @hanaluxx, @lovesick-sylus, @tenaciouszombiewombat, @ladyparamount, @applepi405, @midnight-reverie, @69-gojos-wife-69, @bellagrayson-wayne, @phisen, @idkmanimjusthorny, @munchychuusy, @autumn2534, @poptrim, @sillyfreakfanparty, @zaynesfirefly, @flamedancer13, @thissmartdumbass, @mrsllawliet, @jeondyy, @ssetsuka, @dels-page, @that-lost-one, @johnnysactualgf, @mariquitas-en-verano @toelady, @sinnamon-bunn, @yesbiaswrecked, @doggyteam2028, @little-rays-of-darkness, @albatrossblue, @vyntheria, @silverianni, @browneyedgirl22, @tiklestar, @beaconsxd, @pepperushia

[thbbie]

༄ toji x f! reader

mmmhmn toji with out grown hair and week long stubble on his his handsome face because he doesn't usually shave when you arent around. who would he have complement his skin? who would he have to kiss or eat out? what would be the point of it? when you come back a day earlier then planned and he still hasn't taken the time to clean himself up, he doesn't expect you to pounce on him on sight.

your hands steadying you by holding on to his face, your legs wrapped around his waist and cling to him like a koala to a tree. he can't help but chuckle at your behaviour "miss me?" with a horribly smug grin on his lips. his emerald eyes glinting in your own.

"fhuc- toji,shut your mouth for once please"

"i thought you liked my voi- mmmnph~"

tojis strong hands hold you up against him from where they rest at your butt. still kissing you, he starts towards the direction of the bedroom, you break the kiss, interrupting his path while offering him the alternative situation of him taking you on the floor beneath your feet. your glassy eyes telling him that here is fine, here is perfect.

oh his pretty thing is so needy today.

but he'll indulge you.

he always does.

toji lays down on the floor, dark strands splaying out beneath him, and a smug smirk on his lips. should've thought a little more hair on him would get you acting like a desperate little slut.

"cmere' take a seat beautiful"

he watches your expression shift, his smile only growing wider as you quickly throw aside your clothing, but before you could pull of your panties he intervenes, "your taking too long, keep them on i'll take care of it yea? just cmere pretty thing, sit down."

when you get close enough for him to reach you, he takes your wrist in his hand and guides you to stand over his face, perfect fucking view.

toji hums in approval, letting go of your wrist to hold you by the back of your thighs, pulling you down, just above his waiting face, holding your hips to keep you there.

"here's how this is gonna work, m' just gonna lay back, not gonna hold you, not gonna touch you. i need you to use me to get yourself off alright. show me how bad you want me and i'll see if a desperate thing like yourself deserves my help at all." with that, he releases you hips, "go on, ma. don't keep ol' toji waiting"

oh you don't need to be told twice, he'll run his mouth forever if you don't shut him up. you lower yourself on him, his face fitting against your cunt like two puzzle pieces. his nose snug against your cute clit and his lips pressing at your clothed entrance.

s-shit

rocking your hips against him, back and forth motions as you rub all over his face. "t-tojii, open your mouth. pl- fuckk right there. let me ride your tongue please toji." and who was he to deny a pretty girls polite request? he opens his mouth wide, sticking his tongue out for you.

the minutes drag on, your movements are getting sloppy, youre soo close but the burning in your legs is becoming to much, you can't keep going, "tojitoji please. i'm- ohh~ im close, i n-need your help baby. please."

he'd stayed true to his promise, not touching you, not guiding you, simply laying back and letting you use him for your pleasure and now, as you beg and plead for his help, still toji does nothing. to occupied with enjoying the lovely view and your please that play like music to his ears.

"t-t-tojiii~ pleaseplea- i mmmngh i need you. c-can't cum without you. need y-you to touch me"

you're getting annoyed, your sweet orgasim right there, his face rubbing against your core so deliciously, your hands grasping at his dark hair but you can't go on for any longer.

"tojii!! god, stop being so difficult ill aahhh~ ill do whatever you want just help m-"

anything you say?

you don't get a response but tojis hands are back at your hips, pulling you off his face so your hovering again and he can hear your disappointment in the surprised 'toji!' that comes from your lips.

he pays you no mind, instead busing himself with effortlessly tearing off your underwear and pulling you down on his face with force. he's been desperate for a taste of you too, only he had managed to cont himself better up until now.

the torn flimsy fabric hangs pathetically off your his, tojis tongue slips inside you with ease and his nose numbing against your bare clit with every drag of your hips. his hands hold you, controlling the pace and helping you stay up right.

he pushes and pulls yoh over his face, switching between sucking and licking at you, occasionally bitting to get you to tug at his hair harder. he breaks for air once, when he pulls away to spit on your messy pussy and dives straight back in.

in a matter of minutes he makes you cum two times back to back.

when he knows your about to, toji takes your whole cunt in his mouth, drinking every drop from your high he could get, as if trying to suck your pussy dry.

the way he's panting, with his dark brows pulled together in a tight furrow, puffy lips shining with your essence, and his eyes glossy, you'd think he was the one getting the head of his life.

toji guides you to sit on his chest as you both catch your breaths. watching each other, faces flushed and sweaty. you both think at the same time, i'm the luckiest person alive.

bonus!!

you lean back on you hands, still sitting on his chest, a satisfied smile of someone who had their soul eaten through their pussy at your lips.

"tojii♡~ did you cum? just from having little ol' me use your face for a little?

his blush gets impossibly darker, but he doesn't deny your claim. one of your hands slips under the band of his sweat pants to touch him. an uncharacteristic moan is pulled from his throat when you do, fondling his sensitive dick in your hands "awww tojiii~~ you must really like me huh" as if you weren't begging and crying that you couldn't cum without his hands on you.

"shut it brat"

m.list <3

[dannyriccsystem]

Hiii can we have No.3 and 50 for Lando? Thank youuu

I DON’T WANT TO LIE, I’VE BEEN RELYING ON YOU.

1K SPECIAL - LN4

Soft make out session + “I want your hands on me. You won’t break me, I promise.”

SUMMARY: Lando needs some help when it comes to touching you.

WORD COUNT: 1.1K

WARNINGS: Suggestive, fluff, slight comfort

FEATURING: Lando Norris x Reader

IT WAS A MINOR MISHAP. Not even something you thought twice about, but Lando’s been carrying it like a heavy weight on his shoulders. During an act of intimacy, your body had frightened him, bleeding upon penetration. You quickly explained it was a normal thing, but Lando politely excused himself and the night was over before it even started.

Your feelings weren’t hurt then, because you could understand being a little bit shaken, especially if you didn’t know that was something that happened from time to time. He was under the assumption he did something wrong— That he hurt you. So no, it didn’t make you feel bad, but the following days certainly did.

You could tell he was avoiding being too touchy with you again. It was a stark contrast in comparison to the way your relationship worked before. He used to always have his hands on you, desperate for your attention and praise. Now, he seemed distant, and it was really frustrating. It started to feel less like concern and more like disgust, and that wasn’t fair to you. You didn’t get to control things like that.

Your breaking point was during movie night. Every Tuesday, on his weeks off, you both stayed in to watch a movie of one of your’s choosing, alternating each week who got to pick. This week it was your decision. The lights were dimmed, the couch covered in blankets and pillows for extra comfort. You subconsciously threw your legs over his lap, not even thinking about it.

Normally he’d put one hand on your calf and rub slow circles into you. It was a comforting sensation, having him constantly and carefully caressing you. But tonight you felt him tense up and shift with discomfort, his hands lifting to rest on the back of the couch. He was acting like a goddamn virgin.

“Lando,” You snapped firmly as you pulled your legs back, sitting up on your knees. He jolted, making eye contact with you, his gaze uncertain. It wasn’t fair that he always looked so pretty, because you were meant to be scolding him when all you wanted to do was kiss his stupid face. You were deprived of his love. “What’s going on with you? Is this about the other night?”

He blinked slowly and you could practically see the gears turning in his head, looking to churn up some sort of excuse or dismissive answer. “What are you talking about?” Just like that, yep.

“You’ve clearly been avoiding me. Deny it all you want but there’s something different about you, and it’s making me feel shitty. You won’t touch me, you won’t kiss me, you barely hug me anymore.” You took a deep breath, needing some air after spouting all of that word vomit. “I just- Is it something I did?”

He softened, his hypothetical tail tucked between his legs. His hands were clasped over his lap while he gently twiddled his thumbs. “No,” He started with a huff. He broke apart his hold on himself, his right hand running through his hair while the left pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, you didn’t do anything.”

“Then what is causing this?”

“I’m just scared of hurting you,” He admitted quietly— Vulnerably. You could see the uncertainty in his eyes, and your cold exterior melted away to harbor some sympathy. “I know it was natural, but I got to thinking about how rough I’ve been, and about how- how I could easily hurt you without meaning to, and that’s just…” He trailed off.

“Scary?” You finished for him. He looked at you, finally looked at you like he was actually listening, and he nodded. “It’s okay to be scared. You’re meant to trust me like I trust you.” You grabbed his calloused hand, smoothing it out with both of yours. He squeezed your palm. “But I know you’re not going to hurt me, and if you do, I know it’s not intentional. This was one little slip up— And, I mean, it wasn’t even really that.” You looked down at his hand in yours. “I don’t want things to stop because of that.”

Lando always felt like he wasn’t allowed to be weak around you. Around anyone, for that matter. He always had the media on his back, reminding him time and time again that he shouldn’t be so frail mentally. He needed to toughen up to have that champion mindset, but he couldn’t help the way his brain was constantly tearing itself apart.

But right now, it was a breakthrough moment. You were too sweet and too genuine, because the way you looked at him, like he hung the moon and the stars for you, made his heart thunder in his chest at a nearly concerning rate. Not even racing kicked up his adrenaline this fast.

“Then… Will you show me how?” His query was vague. You tilted your head and that prompted him to follow up, “Show me how to love you.”

You grinned, and it sent that sinking feeling in his chest packing. With that beautiful smile of yours, it was impossible for him not to mirror it. “Of course I will.” You pushed yourself up, climbing over onto his lap. He was still tense, and it was obvious, but you figured it would melt away as you went on.

You placed his hands on your own hips, firmly pressing them down to let him know you were fine. His fingers curled in slightly, hot palms pressed against your shirt. “Good,” You praised softly. You leaned in for a kiss, your lips connecting in a sensual peck. That’s how it began, a series of one peck after another, followed by noisy ‘smooches’.

But it started to develop further, where he’d have to pull back to gasp for air before diving back against your mouth for more. His hands had fallen back, and his actions were still extra tender. There was a barrier between you two, and it was obvious. Longer kisses didn’t equate to passion.

“Touch me, Lan,” You muttered against his plush lips whilst grabbing his wrists, almost aggressively. You placed his hands right on your ass, holding them there. “You’re not gonna hurt me— I’m not fragile.”

When you looked at him, you could tell he wanted to argue his insecurities again. So instead you just didn’t give him the opportunity to. You crashed into osculation again, releasing your hold on him. This time he kept his hands there, firmly gripping your backside.

“I love you,” he mumbled between kisses, replacing his air with words. He was smiling against you, the passion in his words evident.

You ran your fingers through his curls, gripping the soft locks to pull him further into you. He chuckled at your desperation, making your cheeks flush with warmth. Yes, this was what it should have been like. “I love you too,” You mused, shortly followed by, “I hope it stays that way forever.”

[rentenier3148]

I Tried Not to Love You

Pairing: Thunderbolts!Bucky x F!Reader

Summary: You're an ex Avenger turned legislative assistant at the same time your ex boyfriend turned congressman. After avoiding him for years, Bucky calls you one night and asks for help. When a black void threat plunges the team, not only are you fighting the world—but also the versions of yourself you tried to forget.

Word Count: ~3.5k

Warning: THUNDERBOLTS* SPOILERS, So... so much angst, ex boyfriend and congressman Bucky (yes, it needs it's own warning), PTSD with a dark past, mentions of violence but nothing graphic, no use of y/n, not proofread

A.N: I did say I want to write something for Loki which is in the works! But I had to get this out of my head after watching Thunderbolts. Requests are open! I'll gladly make more!

⚡︎ ⋯ ─── ★ ─── ⋯ ⚡︎

“Are you kidding me, Barnes?” You tell him frustrated over the phone pinching your nose bridge.

You’re sitting at home munching on some grapes you had in a bowl while you reviewed some pending bills waiting to be signed on your lap. The TV is on with a movie playing that you stopped paying attention to. It’s just some background noise to disturb the silence.

“I need someone who won’t flinch.” He said on the other line.

You haven’t talked to Bucky in years, you tried avoiding him after your break up. Until you found out he was running for congress at the same time you became a legislative assistant. Then the gala came that Valentina Allegra de Fontaine hosted is where you—unfortunately, but quite amusingly—encountered him again. 

⚡︎ ⋯ ─── ★ ─── ⋯ ⚡︎

The tux he wore made you gasp slightly and stand still for a good few seconds. He saw you eye him down and a small softness glazed over his face that nobody else would notice but you. Then you both looked away at the same time. 

When you stood before the big ‘A’ he walked beside you. Quite frankly you didn’t notice him while you were reminiscing of your past as an Avenger. Maybe your keen assassin senses were starting to lack, or maybe his super soldier stealth was too good for you to catch up. You two were always butting heads about that.

“Didn’t think I would see you here.” He told you softly, he glanced my way but I stayed looking at the ‘A’. He pulled you out of whatever memory was playing in your head, and now you’re back to reality.

“Only here for the hors d’oeuvres and also my boss wanted me to gather information on others for an impeachment of someone.” You said with a sigh, like you were exhausted.

Bucky’s ears perked up. “Impeachment of who?” He asked but quieter this time. Hiding the fact he already knows who the suspected person is.

“It’s none of your business. Besides, why are you talking to me, congressman Barnes?” I say finally looking at him. I furrow my eyebrows at him, hoping it would scare him off but to no avail.

“I can’t compliment you and your outfit tonight, sweetheart?” He smiles the smile that makes you cause a flutter in your stomach. You hated it.

“No.”

“Well, you look absolutely beautiful tonight.” 

You stayed quiet with the scowl on your face that’s contradicting with the blush slowly coming up your cheeks. 

“Look, I know we ended things on bad terms back then. But since we’re in the same job now—why not at least be a bit friendly?” Bucky asks gently this time. That smile is still plastered on his face.

“I'd be more friendly if I was your assistant, but I’m not—aren't I? Plus if I was, one of us would've been dead by now.” 

“I would love to be killed by you, doll.” He says playfully. I’ve had enough of his smile and petnames already.

“You’re infuriating.” You say as you quickly turn around and walk away. You didn’t notice the biggest breath of air he let out and his smile faltering as he remembers how much he loved you. 

⚡︎ ⋯ ─── ★ ─── ⋯ ⚡︎

“So… his name is Bob?” You ask. It almost sounds like a joke. On the other side of the line you hear a faint ‘Yeah, Bob.’ and a sigh from Bucky.

“... I’ll go.” You said after a moment. Bucky on the other side sort of hoped you didn’t agree so that you could stay safe. But he has no other option and really needed you to help him out.

“I’ll send you the coordinates so be prepared to leave soon,” he says until he goes softer, “thanks, by the way.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that. You both stayed on the line until you finally tell him that you’ll be on the way. You hang up on him and stare off at the TV huffing a big sigh. You cannot believe that you got yourself roped into this. But you needed a bit of excitement anyway. 

⚡︎ ⋯ ─── ★ ─── ⋯ ⚡︎

You are currently sitting in the back of a van on the way to the old Avengers tower—now called the Watchtower—where it held many fond and sad memories. You feel an ache in your stomach the closer you get. 

Bucky and a bigger and older—though probably not as old as Bucky—man who you met named Alexei sit in the front while Bucky drives. You can slightly overhear them talking about being super soldiers and what kind of ‘super serum’ each one got.

“I don't know. Regular? Hydra.”

It’s an awkward silence between everyone else that you briefly met. You try to look anywhere else but at the others, but you guess the ceiling is quite appealing.

“How do you know Bucky?” Asks the blonde short haired girl. Yelena you faintly remember. You were best friends with her sister, Natasha. Yelena sought comfort in you after she died trying to find some type of closure. But you don’t think you helped her out much with that, and you get the sense she still feels the same way.

“We fought together when we were in the Avengers.” You intentionally kept it short and sweet. Yelena slightly squints her eyes at you—probably sensing I’m hiding more. A lot more.

The man with an odd copycat uniform of Steve’s Captain America suit—John—barks a short chuckle with a small shake to his head. You’re confused by his reaction.

A soft hum of acknowledgement from the other girl in the much cooler uniform comes out of her—Ava you think—until you crash into the tower. 

You all get out of the van and start fighting the OXE group soldiers. 

Then someone’s voice overhead speaks. It’s Valentina. She says that she intentionally left the doors unlocked and was expecting us. You watch Bucky headbutt a soldier as they hit the ground, making you slightly jump at the sight.

⚡︎ ⋯ ─── ★ ─── ⋯ ⚡︎

Bucky’s arm is broken off as he is hauled to the wall. Bob—or Sentry as he is referred to now—sees you and comes towards you. You don’t know if it’s because of how terrified you are or because he is too quick, but he seemingly appears behind you and grabs your neck. Cutting off your oxygen supply and throws you hard against the wall making everything in your vision a bit blurry and feeling lightheaded.

You lift your head and see Bucky’s metal arm being picked up at the same time you are lifted by your feet and stumbling quickly to the elevator. The lights in the elevator are so bright that you don’t notice that Bucky was holding your side, gripping hard enough to not let you fall but supple enough to not hurt you further.

You all stumble out of the elevator and into the streets. The heated arguments commence between each other while you try your best to catch your breath. With your eyebrows knitted together, you take a look at Bucky as he reattaches his arm and does that swing thing to get it working again. 

How it still makes your stomach flutter, but your emotions are so strong that you don’t notice.

“Are you okay?” He says to me with concern.

“James, what the hell was that?” You scold. “I didn’t agree to this, I agreed to help you get Bob and take down Valentina. Not almost die.”

“I… didn’t think this would happen.” he looks at me solemnly, a hint of regret behind that sentence.

“Yeah, like how you didn’t think I would be hurt after what you said that night.” You are full on angry and seeing red at this point. 

It was bound to happen that you and him were to eventually work together. But not like this. You expected an office, writing memos and debate about the tax increase on produce. Quick, simple, and nothing more. This was more than that, and you were livid. Along with the past starting to resurface. 

“What does that have to do with what’s going on now?” His eyebrows are now furrowed. By this point, everyone else had already walked away, you both were the only ones left in front of the tower. 

“Oh, it has everything to do with what’s going on now. I really didn’t want to be part of this at all. And I really didn’t want to see you at the gala, much less have you talk to me. I wanted to never see you again because you let me go that night and I wanted so badly for you to come chasing after me… and yet you didn’t.”

A beat.

“I want to hate you so bad… but I can’t bring myself to do that sometimes…” you grew quieter with your head starting to hang low and your eyes staring at the concrete. 

Bucky stood there listening to me. His eyebrows slowly unfurrowing and a sigh comes out of his mouth. 

“I didn’t want to let you go that night. I couldn’t chase after you either, I thought that you didn’t want me around anymore. At the gala, you looked so stunning that I needed to talk to you. I couldn’t resist how beautiful you looked. I thought things were okay and that maybe I could fix things.” He spoke softly, as if he slightly raised his voice that you would disappear. 

“Well obviously they aren’t okay. Especially now.” You huffed out, you looked up at him to fully see his sorrowful expression.

A quiet wave came over the both of you.

“I’m sorry, doll.”

“A bit late for that.”

Then suddenly a suspicious overcast started looming over you. You both look up with a squint and see a floating black figure, It’s hard to recognize who it is at all. Even the outfit and cape the figure wore was pitch black.

You see the figure stretch out their arm and slowly a black starts emerging from the ground. The moment it touched a person, it was just a shadow.

A panic crashes into you as you see people running, cars are crashing into each other, and a helicopter crashes into a building. The rubble starts falling, you and Bucky immediately run to rescue any standbyers who were about to be crushed. 

Bucky saves an elderly couple by a car flying towards them with his metal arm sending the car flying over. I speed over to a little girl to grab her away from the falling rubble.

The blackness is starting to creep closer and closer.

From the corner of your eye, you see John trying to hold up a large piece of rubble from a mother and baby. You go over and try to hold it up as well, then everyone who had swarmed off came to help. Bucky was the last to join, you sensed his reluctance. 

After saving the mother and baby, the six of you head over to find cover under an alcove in a building. 

The blackness is quickly spreading, turning more and more people into shadows. You lean against the wall looking down at the ground, wondering what can be done. This is basically impossible, there’s no way to fight a thing that can turn people into shadows. 

You’re taken out of your trance to see Yelena step out to confront the being. You stare off in shock when she's turned into a shadow. Something hits you on the inside which makes you realize what needs to be done—or perhaps a guess at trying to fix it.

You step out and follow Yelena’s footsteps immediately turning into a shadow. 

You didn’t hear when Bucky cried out your name thinking that you had just made a suicidal decision.

⚡︎ ⋯ ─── ★ ─── ⋯ ⚡︎

You jolt awake, looking around your surroundings. You recognize it too well.

You’re standing in the warehouse of your first mission during your youth. 

The organization was a hybrid between the Red Room and Hydra, it essentially was the worst of the worst. Training you and rehabilitating you to become their most perfect assassin. Potentially becoming better than their Winter Soldier program and the girls who were trained in the Red Room.

You stood with a pistol in your hand that’s aimed at the temple of your older sister. You remember that your age didn’t hit double digits yet while your sister just turned ten. Your sister is on her knees with her hands tied behind your back. Your job was to execute your family to prevent you from being held back and expressing empathy.

Your sister pleaded your name and cried to let her go. You did not want to remember anything else so you merely closed your eyes as you heard the ‘bang’ that little you produced from the pistol. Your breathing staggers, then you open your eyes.

The same scene is repeated. You go over and grab hold of the gun to stop little you from doing anything else. 

“Don’t do this, please.” 

“You’re in my way, you need to leave!” Little you squeaks, quickly positioning the gun to your face and pulling the trigger.

You seemingly open your eyes again to turn and see the same scene repeat again. Before doing anything else, you see an open door with a white light emitting from the other side. You run towards it and step through.

As you step through, you open another door. You looked back and it looks like you stepped out of a small storage closet with the warehouse completely gone. You look around and it’s your room back at the Avengers compound. 

You see ahead of you the scene play out. Past you and past Bucky in the most heated argument you’ve ever had. You look outside the large panned windows of your room and recognize it’s night time. 

It’s that night.

“I can’t believe you did that shit! Are you too stuck in your Winter Soldier ways? Is that why you turned on me?” Past you scolded. 

“You know I had no choice, you would do the same if you were in my position. I know how blood thirsty you can be…” He says with a scowl. You notice the blood stained knuckles past Bucky has and past you’s hair was slightly damp from sweat and stress. 

“I’m not as bloody thirsty as you, Winter Soldier.” Past you leaned closer with her finger pointing into his chest.

“Winter Soldier or not, I would’ve murdered you on the spot if I wanted to… And I really did.” Past Bucky said with no remorse. Not even a change of expression, from your perspective you could see a hint of Winter Soldier peeking through his pupils. 

Past you was mortified at his emotionless retort. With a small breath in, she looked deep into his eyes and said those words that you—and possibly her—never thought you would ever say in your life. 

“I’m done with you.”

With that, past you storm out of your room slamming the door. You watch past Bucky bury his face in his and a long breath comes out of his mouth.

He didn’t go chasing after past you. 

A single tear also falls from your face. You feel a presence slightly behind you. You quickly turn around and see it’s Bucky.

Your Bucky. 

You can’t contain it anymore and the flood gates open. A hitch escapes from you from the sight of him. Bucky comes over and holds you so tight as if the entire world depended on it. 

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” Bucky whispers so gently. You cry into his chest, unable to produce any other word. But you feel like Bucky understood what you wanted to say.

The scene starts repeating itself. Neither of us could help to look at it again. It was already too painful to experience it a second time.

“I found a way outta here.” He tells you once you started to calm down. You look up at him and see a few tears falling from his eyes as he wipes yours away. His hand stays there a bit longer cupping your cheek and you both give in to a kiss.

It was deep and emotional that it almost made you cry again. You missed this so much, you’re certain that he does as well since his hands didn’t leave your face. Cradling you so soft and so warm, despite his cold vibranium hand and his flesh one. 

It feels like eternity when you both finally separate. Bucky’s hands graces down your neck to your shoulders, however the vibranium hand is the one that holds one of yours to guide you to the supposed exit out of this nightmarish memory. 

⚡︎ ⋯ ─── ★ ─── ⋯ ⚡︎

You wake up on the ground all sprawled out. Your head is pounding with a fading memory. The last thing you remember was holding back Bob from beating up his ‘Void’ with everyone else holding on as well. 

Also when we all reunited within the ‘Void’ someone asked about how our pasts were and Bucky said a sarcastic comment. “Oh I have a great past, so I’m totally fine.” or something along those lines with that stupid smirk he sometimes gives. 

You slowly gather yourself up and push your hair out of your face. You notice everyone else is getting up as well, then you see Bucky. You both embrace and lips crash. The moment was shortened when you overhear the others checking in on Bob who’s no longer the other ‘him’. 

Turns out, he doesn’t remember a thing and is just happy to know that he’s back with his friends.

You all spot Valentina Allegra de Fontaine getting up from the rubble. We walk up towards her as she tries to defend herself and walks behind a plastic sheet. From behind it, we are encountered with the press. The flashing lights and shuttering noise of the cameras overwhelm you that you don’t even hear Valentina introducing the lot of you as the ‘New Avengers’.

But you do see Yelena going up to Valentina and whisper something in her ear—a potential threat—as she falters slightly.

⚡︎ ⋯ ─── ★ ─── ⋯ ⚡︎

“I don’t think Avengers with a ‘Z’ is gonna cut it…” You say concerningly to Alexei.

“It’s so soft too! It feels like the bottom of a baby seal. ‘Lena touch it.” Alexei proclaims in his new ‘Avengerz’ jumpsuit as he walks to Yelena and stretches out his arm inviting her to feel the… softness.

“No. I don’t want to touch the bottom of a baby seal.” Yelena sternly says without looking up at him.

You sigh and lay back on the couch. You never would have thought that Sam—of all people—would have a lawsuit against us. He is Bucky’s closest confidant and someone he considers as family. You’re sure that Bucky feels a little backstabbed by all this.

You glance up at Bucky, his elbows resting on his knees as he looks down in deep thought. You place your hand on his lower back and draw circles of comfort on them. Bucky looks back at you and gives you a small kiss. This—unfortunately—catches the attention of Alexei.

“Wait, since when did you and him become… a thing?” He points between us trying to connect the pieces together.

“Since last year right? Our anniversary was a few months ago.” You say calmly while Bucky tries to—very poorly—hide his gentle smile.

“Months?!” Everyone says in unison. 

You draw an awkward smile at everyone with a prolonged “Yeah…” and a giggle right after.

“So there was more of a history between you two, huh?” Yelena confidently says. Her suspicions a year ago were proven correct.

“A lot more history.” Bucky quietly says looking back at you confirming his statement. You just softly nod back with a hum.

“Wonder when we’ll know the rest…” Ava says quietly.

Silence hits the room, until the suction of Bob’s milkshake ignites a lightbulb in your brain. You stand up immediately. 

“You know, if Sam is going to file a lawsuit against us he’s gonna have a good lawyer with him.”

Everyone chimes in, intrigued but confused at what you’re trying to say. 

You start pacing the room with a finger on your chin, Bucky could probably see the gears turning extra hard.

“That means we’re gonna need a lawyer.”

“Well duh, how else is this supposed to go down? We represent ourselves?” John retorts to you while fiddling with the unlabeled buttons of his chair.

“I think that wouldn’t go well if we did, you know… since my other ‘me’ did that last year… um, yeah.” Bob says out loud from his secluded spot, then returns to drinking his milkshake.

Your pacing stops as you look at everyone in the room, a devious smirk spreads your cheeks. Bucky also smirks, but you don’t think he has the same idea as you do.

“I know a lawyer… a really good lawyer…”

⚡︎ ⋯ ─── ★ ─── ⋯ ⚡︎

I really love all the engagement on my series so far! I promise I'll return to it soon. If you want to be tagged, just comment or pm me and I'll add you. Thanks for reading!! <3

[randominchident]

from friends to this

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. max verstappen x reader ⋆ 𐙚 ̊.

you've been friends with max for as long as you can remember, it takes a redbull engineer asking you out for both of you to realise you want more. (so much softness and longing)

alternative ending possessive version can be read here

You couldn’t remember the exact day you two had become friends. It was some day in middle school, you were sure of that. But the details had blurred over the years. It felt like you had always known each other.

Max had always been in your life.

You had always been in his.

Sitting in each other’s orbits just felt natural—though entirely platonic. That was the part others struggled to understand.

It was laughable the amount of times waiters had brought candles to your dinner table, 'for the mood', assuming the two of you were on a date. You'd stop correcting them after the third time it happened. Besides, it was fun to laugh about. To joke about how much you'd annoy each other if you really were a couple.

"You snore like a bear," you said, laughing over a glass of red wine, "I pity your future girlfriend."

"Doesn’t seem to bother you too much."

“For a free hotel room, I’ll put up with anything.”

He laughed.

After all these years of sporadically sharing hotel rooms, late night drives, unlimited paddock passesand crude jokes—you two had stayed simply good friends. He'd held you through bad break ups and you had held him through every DNF and every crash. You knew eachother like the back of your hand. Friends for life, that was what you always said.

Until things started to shift. Slowly. Subtly. So gently that neither of you really noticed.

It was Free Practice.

Rain had settled over the city days ago and showed no sign of stopping anytime soon. The paddock was chaos—engineers scrambling to keep tires warm, trainers trying to keep drivers from catching colds.

Max stood calm in the middle of it all. You watched him, helmet in hand, exchanging quiet words with GP. It was always a strange sort of magic, how he could look so at home in the storm—like it was made for him.

You smiled to yourself.

He’d be fine today. You knew it.

“So, how long have you been together?”

The voice broke you from your thoughts.

You blinked, turning to find Marcus—one of the newer engineers—looming beside your seat. Tall, a bit cocky, but charming in a way that probably worked for him.

“What?” you asked, unsure if you’d misheard.

“You and Max. Been together long?”

You snorted. “Oh. No. We aren’t together. Just friends, y’know?”

It wasn’t the first time someone has misunderstood your relationship with Max. Hell, it wasn’t even the first time someone from Red Bull had made the mistake. Marcus glanced back toward Max, then returned his gaze to you with a slow smirk.

“Damn. And here I thought I had no chance.” He grinned. “You free tonight? I’d love to take you for a drink.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it again. Your brain fumbled for an excuse, but none came fast enough.

“Sure,” you found yourself saying. “Why not.”

Barely a few minutes later, Max is by your side, throwing a tyre blanket over you to keep warm.

“It’d be unfortunate if you died of hypothermia before you saw me win on Sunday.”

“Yeah, what would you do without your only supporter cheering in the crowd?” You joked, burrowing into the blanket and sighing from the sudden warmth.

“I’d be lost without you,” he said, mock-solemnly. But there was a warmth in his voice that caught you slightly off-guard.

Max had told you to wear an extra jacket this morning. You had ignored him. He was pretty smug about it, but it didn’t stop him from trying to warm you up—even going as far as to offer his own jacket. As if he wasn't also standing out in the cold.

“Dinner tonight?” He asked, sipping on his water bottle and moving to sit beside you.

“Uh, I’ve got plans actually.”

Max raised an eyebrow. “Plans? With who?”

“Marcus,” you answered, feeling a strange knot form in your stomach. “He asked me out for a few drinks.”

“Oh.”

Max didn’t say anything for a moment, but his gaze flickered briefly to Marcus, cold and stiff, before returning to you. There was something unreadable in his expression.

“Well,” he said, his voice casual but slow, jaw tight and face still, “He seems… nice. I guess.”

You smiled slightly, though it didn’t feel true. You were unable to keep the small flicker of guilt from beating in your chest.

That night, as you found yourself in the dimly lit bar, nursing a glass of wine with Marcus, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was... off. Not with Marcus, exactly. He was a decent guy—charming in that way that could probably win anyone over—but the whole time, you couldn’t stop thinking about Max.

Suddenly a text came through. You knew who it was before you even checked.

Going ok?

Marcus leaned over to see the message. He scoffed slightly, “I thought you weren’t together?”

“We aren’t.”

“Then why is he checking on you? Need his permission to go out?”

“Of course I don’t. He just…” you weren’t sure how to phrase it. “He just likes to know I’m ok.”

Another text came through, you angled your phone towards your chest so Marcus wouldn’t see:

I can pretend to be sick if you want to leave.

Then another:

I can see you reading these… is he that boring?

You laughed slightly and put your phone away.

It was ridiculous. You were here with someone else. Yet Max’s face kept slipping into your thoughts, his teasing smile, the way he always seemed to have your back without even trying. The way he cared so effortlessly. Always checking to make sure you were safe, you were happy.

When the evening ended and Marcus walked you back to your hotel, you could tell he wanted to kiss you. But a pit formed in your stomach at the thought of it. So you just smiled, thanked him for a nice night (not a great night, but a nice one) and quickly walked into your hotel room.

Being alone again was a breath of fresh air.

The next day, quali day, you found yourself wandering the paddock, watching the flurry of activity around you as everyone prepared. Max was in his element, once again, focusing completely on the task ahead. But when he saw you, that familiar, soft smile curved across his face.

“Survived last night?” he asked, walking over to you, his voice a mix of teasing and genuine concern.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t stop the tiny smile that tugged at your lips.

You rolled your eyes, though the corners of your mouth tugged upward despite your best effort. “Barely. I think I hit my lifetime quota of polite smiles. I can only listen to guys explain their workout routine for so long.”

Max let out a low laugh. “Sounds fucking borning.”

You bumped his arm with your elbow, the familiar rhythm of your banter helping smooth the awkward edge that had hung in the air since last night. “Maybe I just have high standards.”

He tilted his head, eyes steady on yours. “Maybe you just went out with the wrong guy.”

The words hit you in the chest harder than you expected. You opened your mouth—half to laugh it off, half to challenge it—but nothing came out.

Max seemed to catch himself, blinking once, then glancing toward the garages like he hadn’t said anything at all. “Anyway,” he said, softer now, “Glad you survived.”

“I always do,” you replied, your voice not quite as light as you meant it to be.

Another pause. A quieter one.

Then he asked, “Did he try anything?”

You looked up at him, surprised by the question—not because he asked, but because of the way he asked. Not teasing. Not brotherly. Just… careful. Like he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“No,” you said. “It wasn’t like that. I don’t think I wanted it to be.”

Max nodded once, but didn’t say anything. His jaw ticked slightly. You noticed.

Before you could decide what it meant, one of the Red Bull crew called his name from across the paddock, breaking the moment in two.

He started to walk off, then hesitated. “You’ll be watching?”

“You even have to ask?”

He smiled at that, something warmer than victory flickering in his expression.

And just like that, he disappeared into the crowd, leaving you standing there with a hundred unsaid things heavy on your tongue.

Max dragged the car to pole, of course.

By the time the final times were locked in, your voice was hoarse from cheering and your heart felt like it had been running laps alongside him. You waited until the press was done pulling him in every direction before slipping backstage near the motorhome.

He spotted you instantly, eyes lighting up under the brim of his cap. “There she is.”

You didn’t hesitate. You threw your arms around his neck and held tight, letting him feel the full weight of how proud you were. “You killed it out there.”

He laughed into your shoulder. “You think?”

“I know.”

When you pulled back, his hands lingered at your waist, grounding you. The smile on his face softened as his gaze dipped lower, hovering somewhere near your mouth.

You swallowed. He didn’t say anything else—just gave your hip the lightest squeeze. You thought he would step back, like he always did after a celebratory hug. But instead he stayed there. His eyes remained locked on yours.

“What?” You asked.

“Nothing.” His eyes flicked to someone behind you, then back to you.

“Nothing,” Max repeated, but there was a flicker of something in his voice. Something restrained. “Just… you’re here. That’s all.”

You huffed out a small laugh, though your heartbeat was climbing at a concerning rate. “Where else would I be?”

He didn’t answer that. Didn’t need to. You both knew where he was thinking of—across a bar table from a different guy, smiling politely, checking your phone too often.

Someone called Max’s name again—sharper this time. He blinked, like surfacing from deep water, then slowly stepped back. His hands dropped from your waist. You tried not to feel the loss of warmth too acutely.

“I’ll see you later,” he said, already backing away.

You nodded, watching him go. The moment, so suddenly, over. The warmth of his hands on your hips lingering after he had gone.

Later that night, you found yourself standing in the hallway outside Max’s hotel room, quietly debating whether or not to knock. He had texted earlier—Movie? My room? Just us?—like it was the most casual thing in the world.

But it didn’t feel casual.

Not anymore.

You knocked.

The door opened almost instantly. He must’ve been waiting.

He stood there in sweatpants and a hoodie, barefoot, hair still slightly damp from a shower. Your gaze dropped instinctively to the nape of his neck, the clean skin of his collarbone and familiar freckles.

He stepped aside without saying a word, and you moved past him into the room.

It was quiet inside, dim and warm. The curtains were drawn, a movie already paused on the screen—some familiar, ridiculous action flick with explosions every other minute. You smiled.

“Got snacks,” Max said, moving to the side table. “But no wine. Sorry.”

“Guess I’ll survive,” you said softly, taking off your jacket.

He sat on the bed, remote in one hand, and gave you a small smile that was all shyness and something a little deeper. “You coming?”

You joined him, sitting close enough that your shoulders touched.

The movie played.

You tried to focus, really, you did. But the warmth of his leg against yours, the way his fingers occasionally brushed the comforter close to your hand—it was pulling all your attention away from the screen.

And then it happened. Slowly. Like everything else with him.

Your head dropped to his shoulder.

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t move. Just let you stay there. Like he’d been waiting for it to happen. Hoping it would. You felt, more than heard, the breath he released. It ghosted across your hairline.

“I missed you last night,” he said, barely a whisper.

Your heart stuttered. “You knew where I was.”

“Doesn’t mean I liked it.”

You turned your head to look up at him. He was already looking down at you.

A beat of silence stretched between you. His hand twitched at his side, like he wanted to reach for you but wasn’t sure he was allowed to.

So you reached first.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his hoodie, tugging him a little closer.

“I saw you walking back with him last night,” Max went on, his voice rougher now. “And all I could think about was how he got to be the one beside you. Even if it was nothing. Even if it didn’t mean anything. I hated it.”

The silence stretched out.

“I didn’t kiss Marcus,” you said, “because I couldn’t stop thinking about how it would feel if it were you.”

He swallowed hard, his gaze flickering down to your mouth. “Don’t say that unless you mean it.”

“I do.”

Another breath. Then, finally, his hand rose to your cheek—tentative at first, almost reverent. Like he couldn’t believe he was allowed to touch you this way. His thumb traced just below your cheekbone, and his eyes were full of something deep and aching.

When he kissed you, it wasn’t sudden. It was slow. Careful. Like he’d been dreaming about it for so long he didn’t want to get it wrong. His lips moved against yours with a kind of quiet desperation, like he was pouring years of longing into the space between you.

You melted into him instantly.

And when you finally pulled back, breathless and heart thundering, Max rested his forehead against yours, eyes still closed.

“I’ve wanted that for so long,” he whispered.

“I know,” you whispered back, smiling. “Me too.”

He opened his eyes, and they were softer now. Unshielded. “Please tell me this isn’t just for tonight”

“It’s not,” you said. You knew then, as you think you knew years ago, that this was it for you. Max was always where you were meant to end up.

hope you enjoyed <3 i've never written this trope before so apologise if it dragged a bit! as always requests are open!

[vaginalvr]

you’re eating these prompts up !! i have another request: spencer and reader are platonic roommates and reader has a one night stand that doesn’t go well so spencer shows her a better time ! you can make it as fluffy or smutty as you please i just think it’s a cute idea

Immediately yes. Thinking about making this a series, lmk!

REQUESTS NOW OPEN!!!

Roomate!Spencer x Reader

cw: Smut (18+), Oral sex (f. receiving), Casual sex/friends-to-lovers, Spencer being smug and unbothered about being amazing in bed, Aftercare and light emotional tension, Roommates with tension

You slammed the front door and kicked your shoes off so hard they hit the wall.

From the couch, Spencer didn’t even flinch. “That bad, huh?”

You didn’t answer. You marched to the kitchen, grabbed a spoon, and dug into the pint of ice cream like it owed you something.

He glanced up over the back of the couch. “So I take it that wasn’t... satisfying.”

You gave him a flat look. “It was like being humped by a confused Roomba.”

Spencer snorted. “That bad?”

“I faked it so I could leave before he asked me to cuddle. He had no idea where anything was. None. Like he thought foreplay was just undoing his jeans slowly.”

Spencer turned, folding one leg underneath himself. “You do realize you keep bringing home these walking red flags, right?”

You sighed. “I know. I just… wanted to get laid. Was that so much to ask?”

“Apparently, it is if you’re not being selective,” he said, his voice way too casual for the heat rising in your cheeks.

You stuck the spoon in your mouth and mumbled, “Yeah, well, I’m clearly not doing great at being selective.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You could always just ask me.”

You blinked. “Ask you what?”

Spencer’s mouth curved into a lazy smirk. “To help out.”

You stared.

He held your gaze, completely unfazed. “I mean, if you’re just looking to get laid properly—I’m here. You already know I’m clean, you trust me, and I’ve read a lot more books on female anatomy than your average Tinder match.”

Your brain short-circuited. “Are you serious?”

He shrugged. “Why not? It’s not like I haven’t thought about it.”

That made you pause.

You set the ice cream down and crossed your arms. “You’ve thought about it?”

Spencer leaned his elbow on the back of the couch. “You walk around here in shorts that should be illegal and bend over like you’re trying to start something. I’m only human.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it. “So what, this is like… a pity fuck?”

He laughed. “No. It’s a favor. A thorough favor.”

Your stomach flipped.

He stood slowly, walked toward you without breaking eye contact, and took the spoon out of your hand.

“You want me to remind you what it’s supposed to feel like?”

You swallowed. “Yes.”

“Good,” he said, setting the spoon on the counter. “Because I’m a little tired of watching you come home frustrated.”

He didn’t waste time.

Once you were on your bed, Spencer stood over you, arms crossed as he looked you up and down.

“Take your clothes off,” he said, his voice calm, commanding in a way that made you ache. “I want to see what I’m working with.”

You bit your lip as you pulled your top over your head, shimmying out of your jeans next. Spencer watched with interest—not overly polite, not pretending he wasn’t looking. He looked. Hard.

“You’re already turned on,” he murmured, stepping closer. “You like the idea of me helping you out, huh?”

You nodded, breath catching as his fingers trailed down your hip.

“Lie back,” he said, and you did.

Spencer knelt on the bed between your legs and hooked your panties to the side with two fingers. “Let’s see if your last disappointment missed anything obvious.”

You didn’t have time to joke—his mouth was on you in seconds.

Hot. Wet. Confident.

You gasped as his tongue licked a slow stripe up your center. “Jesus, Spencer—”

“Nope,” he murmured against your skin. “Just me.”

You laughed—cut off by a moan when he circled your clit with maddening precision. He slid two fingers inside you, curling them just right, and you jerked under his mouth.

He looked up at you, smug as hell. “Think that guy even tried this?”

You whimpered, shaking your head.

“Didn’t think so.”

He went back in, tongue moving in lazy, practiced swirls that built you up fast. He didn’t rush—he worked you like he knew every second mattered, like he had something to prove. And holy hell, he did.

You came hard, your hands gripping the sheets as Spencer held you open and licked you through it. When you finally collapsed back on the bed, panting, he kissed the inside of your thigh and pulled back.

“So,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Better?”

You blinked at him. “That was... incredible.”

He smirked. “Told you. Favor.”

You laughed breathlessly. “Are you sure this is just a favor? You seemed very motivated.”

“I take pride in my work,” he said, shrugging as he stood to undress. “And frankly? You deserve to be ruined a little.”

Your thighs clenched.

“You’re still wet,” he added, climbing back onto the bed, now fully naked. “So unless you want me to stop…”

“God, no.”

“Didn’t think so.”

He slid in with a groan, your body still fluttering from your orgasm. His hands gripped your hips, angling you just right, and when he started to move—slow and deep—it lit you up all over again.

“You feel so good,” he muttered. “Tight and warm and wet, just like I imagined.”

You gasped. “You imagined this?”

He gave you a devilish look. “More than once.”

Spencer didn’t rush. He thrust—long, deep, delicious strokes that had you writhing under him, moaning his name like a prayer. His pace stayed steady, cruel in how good it felt.

He leaned over you, one hand braced beside your head. “Bet you never got fucked like this by any of your little flings.”

You shook your head, clinging to his shoulders.

He kissed you hard, then whispered in your ear: “Next time you’re horny, just ask. Don’t waste your time with losers.”

And just like that, he had you coming again—fast, hard, clenching around him with a cry. He cursed, hips stuttering, and came seconds later with a groan, burying his face in your neck.

After, he flopped next to you on the bed, breathless.

You turned your head. “So. That was…”

“A favor,” he said smugly.

You snorted. “You’re very generous.”

“I know,” he said, already reaching for a glass of water on your nightstand. “And I offer repeat services.”

You laughed, swatting his chest. “Noted.”

[klarolinexluv]

No matter who you ship her with, the other is always down bad for Lily Evans because they don’t take lightly to someone messing with her.

James Potter? Well that’s self explanatory. He’d do anything she asked, anything. Nothing is too big or small. You wrong Lily and James is looking over her shoulder with the biggest grin, the kind of grin that is terrifying to see because rage is burning in his eyes. You’ll know he is planning something but you will never know what until it’s too late.

Regulus Black? Would kill for her, without question, without hesitation. He would go to any lengths, any means necessary to protect and love her. You say something remotely negative against her, (like whispering she has weird hair or something) and you will find yourself in a world of trouble. The rumours that come out about you will be unstoppable and so believable. You wouldn’t even know who started them but Lily knows.

Barty Crouch Jr? Would also kill for her but would deny he ever did it to everyone including her. Barty is so unhinged in how he looks after what he perceives to be his and Lily is no different. Think Regulus but without any restrictions/restraint (because Reg never goes too far, Barty crosses that line gleefully).

Evan Rosier? You said something he didn’t like about Lily? Damn, I hope your aunt recovers from that horrible poison she’s suffering from. Your best friend is ill? How worrisome, here give them this cookie. Nothing bad will happen, promise. Oh, you’re struggling in a class? That’s too bad, here have this potion, it helps with focus… no there aren’t any side effects, don’t worry about it.

Pandora Lovegood? You don’t see her coming until it’s too late. She will tear anyone a new one simply for looking at Lily wrong. You don’t even think that she will do anything, she’s so nice and sweet and suddenly you are hanging from your ankles outside the great hall with no way down, you’ve been there all night.

Mary MacDonald? You will never escape her glare. EVER. You slight Lily once and Mary will hold a grudge for all eternity. She will constantly bring up things that embarrass you casually into conversation and act like that was a normal topic to talk about. She’ll basically make your life an uncomfortable mess until she grows bored of playing with you. She will never forget what you did and she will randomly start up again later just because she can.

Narcissa Black? You will never step foot outside your house ever again. Your reputation would never recover. You’d be the laughing stock of society. People will stop talking when you approach them. You’re social life would be so awkward to nonexistant. And Narcissa will catch your eye and smirk so cruelly, you’ll quickly leave without second thought.

Marlene McKinnon? She is constantly around you for some reason. Constantly lurking. She offers to be your partner in class and has a glare so strong that nobody argues. She is constantly making snide remarks to your face about you. Little things that will get on your nerves. Marlene makes your life unbearable and then when it gets to a point where you are going to break, she’s suddenly gone. You are left on the edge of your seat waiting for the other shoe to drop. She’ll pop up every so often just to keep you on edge.

Dorcas Meadows? She isn’t afraid to use her beaters bat. It’s not that she carries it around her all the time but it definitely feels like it. She never makes the threat, not verbally anyway. But she’ll stare you down with her bat in her hands, swinging it or just playing with it to make the unsaid obvious. Once on Dorcas’ shit list, it is very hard to leave it.

Remus Lupin? He is the type to sit back and wait. Let you make the mistake of insulting Lily and then he will watch as your life falls apart. You worked for hours on an essay but now it’s missing? Oh and it’s due tomorrow and it’s like the biggest paper for your grade? How awful. He’ll make you think you are losing your mind, constantly moving or taking your things without you noticing and putting them somewhere else. He’s pulling Lily to his chest and glaring so coldly over her shoulder, most if not everyone will be scared off.

Sirius Black? He will prank you. Without mercy. And you will know he is pranking you because he is always there when it happens. Itching powder in your clothes. Dungbombs in your bag. Hexing your shoe laces together. Sticking charm on your seat. Everything. He will hold a grudge for the rest of his life, you wrong the people he calls his own, especially Lily and you will never know peace again. Sirius would also go to extreme lengths to make Lily feel protected and loved.

[bluewxrld07]

Blue Strips Pt. 2 (Insta AU)

Summary: Things start to heat up during the summer break...

Jack Hughes x Estapa!reader

Warning(s): None

oliviaponton just posted a photo!

liked by addisonrae, joeyb_9, kiocyr, oliviaobrien, and 900k others

oliviaponton You know how I get with an attitude

load more comments

user You know what, hell yeah?

Addisonrae Obsessed

user Not her copying lyrics from the same song Y/N did in her last post lmao

joeyb_9 So good

→ oliviaponton Always for you my love joeyb_9

user girl this ain't something to flaunt ^

ynestapa just posted a photo!

liked by tatemcrae, badgirlriri, jackhughes, bffig, edwards.73, and 1m others

ynestapa anywho

load more comments

user How ✍🏼 to ✍🏼 look ✍🏼 like ✍🏼 Y/N ✍🏼 101

tatemcrae Drop the hair routine rn

→ bffig Chat I'm cooked 😍

→ lhughes_06 Chat she's cooked

→ edwards.73 Chat bffig is cooked

→ jackhughes Chat I'm cooked

→ markestapa Chat- waaaait 🤔

user Chat Jack ain't even trying to hide it anymore lmfao

user she is so pretty omfg I love this

markestapa Okay yeah yeah you're cute and all, but stop taking pics and come outside

→ ynestapa No need to out me like that jeez

→ edwards.73 He's just mad because you are the better looking sibling ynestapa

→ ynestapa Awwww Eddy 🥰 edwards.73

→ markestapa Way to go she's gonna let that go to her head edwards.73

lhughes_06 No but seriously hurry up or we're leaving without you on the boat

→ ynestapa Omw 💨 lhughes_06

ynestapa just posted a photo to their story!

bffig just posted a photo!

liked by ynestapa, edwards.73, teehiggins, jackhughes, and 850k others

bffig Gearing up for a cray cray day

tagged ynestapa

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jackhughes There's my sweatpants ynestapa

→ ynestapa Whaaaaat? Noooo? jackhughes

→ bffig Can y'all stop flirting on my page thank you ynestapa jackhughes

→ bffig only I get to flirt with ynestapa on my page 😘

→ ynestapa I know that's right mwah 😘 bffig

jackhughes Hey watch this bffig

jackhughes Come get your cute little butt across this boat and cuddle me ynestapa

→ bffig JACK

→ ynestapa JACK!!!

→ jackhughes JACK

user Oh he is just not hiding it at this point lmfao I'm so dead

user They match each others' energy so well. Jack seems like he's good for Y/N

*liked by bffig*

edwards.73 wait wait wait. lemme try jackhughes

edwards.73 Hey bffig get your cute butt over here and come lay with me

→ bffig No

→ edwards.73 Fuck

→ ynestapa I'm cackling bffig edwards.73

ynestapa just posted some photos!

liked by bffig, jackhughes, joeyb_9, teehiggins, lhughes_06, and 1.3m others

ynestapa Lake days only

tagged everyone

load more comments

user How does one get titties like those wtf!!! GIVE ME YOUR WAYS

bffig Mommy? Sorry. Mommy? Sorry. Mommy? So sorry...

→ ynestapa Yes honey? bffig 😘

→ bffig Agh I'm giggling and kicking my feet ynestapa 🥰

edwards.73 THEY'RE LOOKING AT ME I SWEAR 🫣

markestapa PUT THEM AWAY YOURE HYPNOTIZING ALL MY FRIENDS

jackhughes Where to look is the real question WOW 😯

→ lhughes_06 Her face jackhughes

→jackhughes Good start lhughes_06

→ ynestapa Look wherever you want jackhughes 🤭

user Woah look who is creeping back into her likes.. interesting 🤔

user I hope he sees Jack's comments is that bad lmfao

user SO PRETTYYYYY

tatemcrae FREE THE NIP??

→ ynestapa Only for you tatemcrae

bffig Honey he's lurking...👀

→ ynestapa Who??????? 🧐

→ markestapa Why is he lurking? Thought he was blocked... ynestapa

→ ynestapa Idk what you're talking about markestapa

jackhughes just posted some photos!

liked by lhughes_06, colecaufield, trevorzegras, bffig, ynestapa, and 1m others

jackhughes Lake Days ftw

tagged everyone

load more comments

quinnhughes Awww what cuties

user omg Jack posted a photo of herrrrrr

lhughes_06 Wow I can't believe I was put third. Crazy

→ jackhughes You are the third brother lhughes_06

→ lhughes_06 WOW OK jackhughes

ynestapa Can't believe you pushed me off after this..

→ jackhughes It was tempting! ynestapa

→ ynestapa You're tempting jackhughes

→ jackhughes I-- 😳 ynestapa

→ edwards.73 AHHH A BOY IS BRIGHT RED RN, YN WHAT DID YOU DOOOOO ynestapa jackhughes

→ lhughes_06 This guy is smiling like an idiot at his phone rn ynestapa jackhughes

user Dude if Jack and YN don't get together I will riot in the morning

coelcaufield Vibes were brewing 😎

joeyb_9 just posted a photo!

liked by oliviaponton, lahjay_1, teehiggins, samhubbard, and 998k others

joeyb_9 You got me throwin' blue strips

load more comments

user this man is so fine it hurts

user HELLO SIR OMFG

oliviaponton Throwin' ones at your bitch?

*liked by joeyb_9*

teehiggins Bruh where am I at in this

user this kind of petty tho

user Someone's been paying attention to Y/N's captions...

user This is fan behavior lmao

bffig Pussy

*this comment has been deleted*

ynestapa just posted a photo!

liked by jackhughes, bffig, teehiggins, edwards.73, and 1.2m others

ynestapa All your business getting back to me (Which I didn't ask for)

load more comments

user OHHHHH SHE KNOWSSSS

user Y/N sees right through their games it's crazy

bffig Lemme enter the chat pls

→ ynestapa Nope

edwards.73 Period boo

→ ynestapa ew no never again

→ edwards.73 WHY THO ynestapa

markestapa This isn't good for you Y/N

lhughes_06 Y/N don't feed into it

ynestapa Y'all stop I'm not doing a single thing markestapa lhughes_06

jackhughes Wrong answer

user uh oh I think Jack is jellyyyyy

ynestapa just posted some photos!

liked by lhughes_06, bffig, rutgermcgroarty, jackhughes, and 900k others

edwards.73 Gang's all here

load more comments

user Where's Y/N?????

user Y'all I don't like this why isn't Y/N on either post

bffig No pic creds? You're cheap

→ edwards.73 So sorry queen lemme tag you sweetheart bffig

→ bffig Ok no need to kiss my ass edwards.73

→ edwards.73 What if I wanted to tho? bffig

→ bffig Omfg you're ridiculous edwards.73

user Ethan why isn't Y/N in these photos???

lhughes_06 Did me dirty with that photo

→ edwards.73 nahhh you a cutie patootie pie lhughes_06

[miyasmagnolias]

𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ⋆˚࿔ ✍︎

miya atsumu x f!reader

when atsumu spills coffee all over your new book, he goes to the ends of the earth to make sure you never notice.

part four of the in close quarters series, a friends-to-lovers college AU featuring you, atsumu, and the ten months you spend living together senior year.

Perhaps inviting Atsumu to study with you was a bad idea.

To be fair, you had only ever studied with two other people — your former roommate, a pre-med major whose need for complete silence outweighed your own, and Haruka, who'd sit on the other side of the café just so she could meet her writing deadlines.

It wasn't Atsumu's fault you were used to working with people who could sit still for hours at a time. If anything, he made sure you took screen breaks. Got up to pee.

But after an hour of sitting across from him, you started wondering if you'd get any work done at all.

First, he'd ripped into a bag of kettle corn and tried to do trick shots with his mouth. The occasional piece would fall into your lap or pluck you square in the forehead, and he'd murmur an earnest sorry before trying again.

Next, he'd abruptly stand and take a lap around the café, the screech of his chair interrupting your train of thought each time he got up.

Now, you were watching him try and spin a pen around his index and middle finger, after which he'd nearly knocked over your matcha latte.

"Oh my god, would you stop?"

He looked up from where the pen had inked his gym shorts with wide, unassuming eyes. "Stop what?"

"Fidgeting."

"I can't help it! I need to move," he insisted, his caffeinated knee bouncing underneath the table. You sighed, moving your drink, books, and laptop out of the splash zone to avoid any casualties.

Ever since his coach had dismissed him from volleyball practice two weeks ago, Atsumu hadn't known what to do with himself. He was always either at the gym or tossing restlessly around the apartment, and while you didn't mind his presence, you felt like he was a ticking time bomb ready to decimate. His mental health leave was driving him — and you — crazy, and neither of you knew how to handle it.

"I swear, you need to figure out how to channel all this pent-up energy," you said, gesturing towards his tense, jittery body. "Buy a fidget spinner, take up knitting, I don't care. But you're gonna break something if you don't calm down."

As if on cue, Atsumu's eyebrow twitched involuntarily. Your stare was stern as you confiscated his second iced vanilla latte of the day.

"What if I took up readin'?" he proposed, reaching for the paperback you'd brought with you to the university coffee shop that afternoon. He thumbed through the pages like one might a Pottery Barn catalogue.

"Sure. If your attention span can last that long," you muttered under your breath. Atsumu shot you a glare.

"Excuse me?"

"Can you not bend the spine?" you said helplessly, watching as he practically manhandled your new book with his brawny hands. "I just got it yesterday."

"Ya buy it from the bookstore during yer shift?" he asked. You winced as he tossed it onto the table with a pitiful smack.

"No," you said, snatching it up and dusting the cover off with your sleeve. "A visiting author dropped by my writing seminar to give a guest lecture, and she passed out signed copies of her new book."

"What's it about?"

"It's a speculative fiction novel about the liminal space between two generations of Asian immigrants assimilating to their life in New York."

Atsumu blinked at you as if you'd just grown a third eye. "I'm not even gonna pretend like I know what the hell ya just said." Before you could open your mouth to protest, a young, doe-eyed student nervously approached your table. "I'm so sorry to interrupt," she said, practically shaking in her boots. "But are you Miya Atsumu? Setter on the men's volleyball team?"

"Why yes, yes I am," your roommate chirped, leaning back in his chair so he could look her in the eye. A pair of dimples flashed on either side of his cheeky grin as he asked, "What can I do for ya, miss?" Her cheeks turned bright pink. "C-Could I get a picture with you, please? My sister and I are huge volleyball fans, and she won't believe I ran into you today unless I have photo evidence."

"Well, we can’t have that now, can we?" Atsumu drawled, positively preening at the fact that — despite his leave — he was still the most popular player on the team. He immediately stood and straightened out his grey hoodie. "C'mere. Let's make yer sister jealous."

You watched in amusement as the fan shakily outstretched her arm to take a selfie with your roommate, her hand trembling even harder as Atsumu leaned in with that easy, smug smile of his.

Click!

"Thank you so much!" she gushed, the sheer delight on her face warming your heart by at least two degrees. Meanwhile, Atsumu's ego looked like it was about to blow the roof off the place. "Anytime," he said, eyes gleaming with charm. "And to whom do I owe the pleasure of bein' photographed with this afternoon?"

"Naomi." "It was lovely meetin' ya, Naomi. Will I see ya in the stands at our first home game?" "Oh, absolutely."

"Lookin' forward to it," he said with a wink. He might as well have shot her in the heart with an arrow.

"Dear lord," you drawled once the fan was out of earshot.

"What?" Atsumu asked, feigning innocence. You shot him a look of disgust as he slid back into his seat.

"Is this what you're like normally?"

"Why?" He smirked. "Didn't expect me to be so popular?"

"Sorry." You closed your eyes, pressing your fingertips to your lips. "I think I just puked a little in my mouth."

"Yer just not used to seein' me in my element, is all." Atsumu leaned back in his chair. "Want me to sign a napkin for ya or somethin'?"

"First of all, stop manspreading all over the place," you snapped, pushing his knees back together underneath the table with your shoe. "Second of all, no. I'm not that desperate."

"Come on. When I eventually go pro, that napkin'll be worth a million bucks."

"I don't need your autograph when I already have your sweaty gym socks all over my living room floor," you retorted. Your face dropped as a genius idea came to mind. "If I auctioned those on eBay instead, do you think I'd make more?"

Now it was Atsumu's turn to look disgusted.

An amused smile toyed on your lips as you checked the clock in the corner of your laptop screen. "Shit. I gotta clock into work soon. I'll see you at home?"

"Mm? Yeah, see ya at home," your roommate murmured absentmindedly, preoccupied by his thoughts as you hastily packed your belongings and made a beeline for the front door.

Why didn't you want his autograph? More importantly, why did he care? Girls were usually impressed by his athletic and conversational prowess, but he didn't think himself so fragile as to be affected by one measly rejection — much less from his brainy, smart-mouthed roommate.

Maybe his allure had worn off the moment you'd caught him bawling in the bathroom two weeks ago. Or maybe it was the sweaty socks he kept leaving on the living room floor.

Either way, it irked him.

Reaching across the table for the iced vanilla latte you'd confiscated earlier, Atsumu noticed your new book hiding beneath a stack of his own notes. You must've forgotten it in your rush to get to work.

Figuring he could catch you before you reached the crosswalk down the street, he placed his half-empty glass on the already-wobbly table and shot out of his seat —

Clank!

— only to immediately regret his decision a second later.

Dragging his gaze downwards, Atsumu blanched as his now-empty glass rolled across the table, the remnants of his iced vanilla latte leaving no survivors in its wake. Everything was soaked. His notebook. A half-completed accounting worksheet. Your new book.

"Shit," Atsumu hissed under his breath, picking up the book by its corner and watching as coffee dripped off the pages into a pathetic puddle at his feet.

Ruined. It was completely ruined.

And you were most certainly going to kill him.

"I fucked up," Atsumu told his twin brother two minutes later, phone sandwiched between his cheek and his shoulder and he tried to mop up the spill with a wad of paper towels.

Osamu's sigh rippled through the line like a strong gust of wind. "What'd ya do this time?"

Atsumu held up your soggy book with a grimace. "I may have spilled coffee on Y/N's new book, and I'm pretty sure it's disintigratin' in my hands as we speak."

His brother was silent for a long time before saying, "Well, what'd ya want me to do about it?"

"Help me!" Atsumu ground out. "How'd ya get coffee out of a book?"

"Ya can't, ya dipshit. Ya might as well have thrown it in the Kanzaki River."

"Real helpful, asshat."

Osamu sighed again. "What's the book?"

"I dunno! It's a novel. Somethin' about speculatin' or spaces or some shit like that."

"I meant the title."

"Oh," Atsumu huffed, angling his head so he could read the cover. "Cherry Blossom Interlude." Frowning, he muttered, "Sounds hippie as shit."

"Okay," his brother said after a brief pause. "There should be a couple copies left at this independent bookstore 'cross town. They close at five. I'm textin' you the address now."

Atsumu pulled his phone from his ear just in time for the notification to arrive on his screen. Pulling up the address on his GPS, he immediately scoffed.

"That's gonna take me an hour with traffic!"

"Well, ya should've thought about that before ya decided to be a clumsy fuck!" Osamu snapped. The volume of his voice nearly rattled Atsumu's phone. "Look, I gotta get back to my shift. Ya either come clean to her empty-handed or ya don't. But it ain't my funeral."

Despite himself, Atsumu knew his brother was right. Fuck. It would've been ten times easier just to trash the book, come up with some measly excuse about forgetting to bring it home and never seeing it again. But he couldn't do that to you. His conscience was annoyingly soft when it came to you.

"Fine," he spat out after a long while, tossing the sodden paper towels into the trash can with a defeated plunk. "I'll go."

Then, after swallowing his pride, "Thanks, 'Samu."

"Don't say I never do anythin' for ya," Osamu sniped before hanging up.

After speed-walking back to the apartment garage, Atsumu jammed his keys into the ignition of his car and yanked on his seatbelt, your soggy copy of Cherry Blossom Interlude sitting out to dry in the back seat atop a stack of napkins. His blood pressure spiked as he wove in and out of rush hour traffic, honking his horn at innocent commuters who were driving too slow for his liking.

All the while, he couldn’t shake the look on your face when you’d recited to him the synopsis of the book — the excitement in your eyes, the fervor in your voice. To think he’d ruined that was enough to make his chest ache.

He swerved into the bookstore parking lot at 5:03 PM, the vacant spaces and dark windows piquing his frustration as he threw the car in park and tumbled out of the driver's seat. A young bookkeeper with a pixie cut had just enabled the security alarm on the front door when she heard him, Asics slapping against the pavement as he sprinted towards her at full speed.

"Wait — wait!" Atsumu cried, skidding to a halt. He braced his hands on his knees, shoulders heaving as he panted. "I'm 'ere to buy a book."

The bookkeeper clutched her keys to her chest in alarm. "I-I'm sorry, sir, but I'm afraid I just closed up shop — " "Please, I — it's for a friend," he stammered, holding up your ruined book. As if on cue, the front cover peeled off the binding like a rotten banana skin. "I destroyed her book because I'm a clumsy fuck, and she doesn't know, so I drove all the way out 'ere to buy her a new one because I really don't want her to kill me. O-Or hate me. So please."

She received his babbled confession with wide eyes.

God, he hoped she wouldn't call the cops on him.

"Please," he repeated, clutching the tattered copy in his hands. "It'll only take a minute."

Her slender fingers fiddled with her keys as she considered his request, the desperation in his voice. After several seconds, her shoulders relaxed in what Atsumu could only identify as pity.

"Your friend has good taste," she said, jerking her chin towards the soiled cover. "You're lucky, too — I think I only have a few copies left."

Atsumu unleashed the biggest sigh of relief as she punched in the code to deactivate the security alarm and unlocked the front door.

"Thank ya. Yer a lifesaver."

"You're a good friend," she reassured him gently, the door jingling as she swung it open and ushered him inside. "Just...try not to touch anything while you're here, okay?"

By the time Atsumu pulled into the apartment garage with your replacement book and two rice plates from Onigiri Miya, you had already returned home from your shift.

"Hey!" you said as he swung open the front door and kicked off his shoes. "I was wondering where you were. You hit the gym today?"

"Nah, just ran some errands," he fibbed. He held up the plastic bag of takeout. "Stopped by Osamu's and picked us up some dinner."

"Oh my god, thank you," you said, taking the food from him and immediately unpacking it on the dining room table. "My shift today was so exhausting, I didn't even realize I'd forgotten my book at the café until I got home. Did you happen to grab it for me?"

Without missing a beat, Atsumu reached into the front pocket of his hoodie and retrieved your newest copy of Cherry Blossom Interlude.

"This the one?"

Despite himself, the relieved smile on your face was enough for him to forget the nearly two-hour trip he'd just made.

"Yes! Atsumu, you're a lifesaver," you cried, taking the paperback from him and inhaling the scent of its pages with zero shame. "I thought I'd lost it. Thank you."

"It's no problem," he said with a shrug, though a pang of guilt zapped though him.

As Atsumu watched you flick through the chapters, he weighed the pros and cons of telling you the complete truth. So what if you didn't know it was the original copy? It's not like you needed to know he was an absolute klutz —

"Wait." You stopped in your tracks, brow furrowing in confusion. You flipped through the first couple of pages in disbelief. "Where's the autograph?"

Atsumu's stomach dropped. "What autograph?"

"The author's autograph on the title page, it was right here," you said, slapping the page with the back of your hand. Meanwhile, Atsumu's face was steadily draining of color. "I swear, I was just looking at it earlier. Am I going crazy — ?"

"Alright, alright!" Atsumu held his hands up in defeat, unable to stomach your bewilderment for much longer. At your wide-eyed expression, he said, "Geez, Y/N. Would ya stop lookin' at me with those puppy-dog eyes? I can't lie to ya."

The truth spilled out of him shortly afterwards. He confessed to everything: the coffee spill, the hour-long commute to the bookstore. The bookkeeper who'd nearly sniped him when he'd knocked into the rack of postcards by the cash register.

"All that to say," he said towards the end of his long-winded story. "I'm so sorry I ruined yer book. I knew how much it meant to ya. If it makes ya feel any better, I promise to drink outta a sippy cup from 'ere on out."

He braced himself for your reaction, for the anger you rightfully owed him. Instead, you clutched the book to your chest and breathed, "You did all of that for me?"

Atsumu blinked at the sudden emotion in your voice.

"Well...yeah. I couldn't bear the thought of ya not bein' able to read somethin' ya were clearly so excited about."

You swallowed the lump in your throat. "Atsumu, you could have told me."

He shrugged noncommittally. "I didn't wanna see ya upset."

Before you could fully process what you were doing, you closed the space between you two and pulled him into a hug.

Atsumu froze as you wrapped your arms around his torso — refused to breathe as the scent of coffee and paper and your shea butter body wash washed over him like the tide.

"Thank you," you murmured into his cotton hoodie, trying not to focus on how good he smelled or how warm he felt in your embrace. "You didn't have to do that for me."

Slowly but surely, you felt Atsumu relax. He leaned his cheek against the top of your head, murmuring, "No. But I wanted to."

Later that evening, you watched him uncap your Sharpie with his teeth, staring at the blank title page of your new book with a skeptical look on his face.

"Ya sure ya want me to do this?" he asked, turning towards you on the couch. "I can sign somethin' else for ya, like a headshot. Or a brassiere. Fans like that."

"Nope," you said, shaking your head in resolution. "Since you ruined my copy with the author's signature, I figured this would be the next best thing." You propped your socked feet up on the coffee table and laughed. "Who knows? Maybe I'll sell it for a million bucks."

Atsumu sucked in a sharp breath before pressing the tip of the marker to the page. "If ya say so."

You were reading his autograph to you not a moment later:

To the best roomie a guy could ask for — and an even better friend.

- 'Tsumu

Your heart twinged at the dedication — at the easy, practiced dashes and curves of Atsumu's handwriting. Something in your expression must have given you away, because Atsumu leaned back against the couch with a self-satisfied smirk.

"Ya recondiserin' yer million bucks now?"

You shoved him playfully with your shoulder. "As if."

But, deep down, you knew.

You were never giving this away.

@miyasmagnolias, 2025

[nephynes]

hi can you make a heejake version of this? https://www.tumblr.com/nephynes/782964498220875776/i-cant-stop-thinking-about-it-so-might-as-well

heeseung is the bully and jake is the bf pls pls i need heeseung so bad like be mean in front of jake 🤤

you asked and i must deliver!

MDNI

══════════════════════════

You told yourself it was just to stop the bullying.

You told yourself you were doing this for Jake.

But the second Heeseung had said he’d leave Jake alone if you let him fuck you in front of your boyfriend, with that cocky smirk, that lazy tilt of his head, that gleam in his eyes like he already knew how this would end, you knew you were in trouble.

Now you're here. In some dark, empty room behind the practice hall. All cold walls and dim lights. You, with your back against Heeseung's chest, hands fisting in your lap like you can pretend this isn't happening.

And Jake—Jake's sitting across from you. Silent. Pale. Eyes darting between your face and the hands sliding under your skirt.

"You sure you're okay with this?" Heeseung drawls, voice laced with cruel amusement, chin nudging your shoulder as he whispers it. "She's offering herself up just to protect you. You gonna let her?"

Jake swallows. Hard. His jaw clenches, but he doesn't say no.

He doesn't stop it.

You glance at him with eyes soft but you're already arching against Heeseung's touch, already biting back a gasp when he cups you over your panties and hums low in your ear. "She's wet," he murmurs, just loud enough for Jake to hear. "Did you know that? She's fucking soaked for me."

Your cheeks burn. Your body betrays you, hips shifting against his hand, heat building too fast to control. Heeseung pushes your panties aside like he has every right, long fingers stroking you slow, patient—taunting.

Jake looks like he might be sick.

Or hard.

You can't tell.

Heeseung can.

"Look at that," he purrs. "Your boyfriend's getting off on this. Poor thing doesn't know what to do with himself."

You gasp as two fingers sink into you without warning, your thighs twitching as Heeseung fucks them in deep and crooked. You moan—loud and open-mouthed and Jake jerks in his seat like it physically hurt him to hear it.

But he still doesn't leave.

He still watches.

Heeseung's free hand catches your chin and tilts your face toward your boyfriend. "Wanna do something for me, sweetheart?"

Your breath is shaky, lips parted. "What?"

Heeseung smirks. "Call him over."

You blink, confused, lost in the haze of pleasure.

"Call Jake," he says again. "Tell him to come kiss you while you come on my fingers."

Your lips tremble. But you obey. "J-Jake... please," you whisper, eyes glassy. "Come here..."

He looks like it physically pains him to get up. But he does. Walks slowly over to you, like he's outside his own body, and kneels in front of you with his brows furrowed and his hands shaking.

Heeseung doesn't stop.

His fingers keep working inside you, slick, relentless and covered with your juices, while Jake leans forward and presses his mouth to yours—soft, desperate, like he's trying to anchor you back to him.

You moan into the kiss, breaking apart as your orgasm builds in your belly, tight and overwhelming.

Then—just as Jake starts to pull away—Heeseung grabs the front of his shirt and drags him in.

And kisses him.

Jake freezes.

His eyes fly open, startled and wide—but Heeseung kisses him deep, rough, cocky tongue pushing into his mouth like he wants to claim him, too. Like he's marking both of you. The sight of it all has you whining.

Because it's hot. And wrong. And too much.

Watching your boyfriend get kissed by the guy who's knuckle-deep inside you, who has bullied him relentlessly for months. Watching Jake take it, mouth slack and confused and hungry, like he hates it and needs more.

Heeseung breaks the kiss with a sharp pull of Jake's bottom lip between his teeth, grinning like the devil himself.

"She's close," he says, fingers curling inside you until your whole body jolts. "You gonna let her fall apart in front of you like this? Or are you gonna help her?"

Jake says nothing. Just presses his thumb to your clit to rub little circles that make you cry out from the sensation. “Just cum so we can go” he nearly pleads and if you could see through the haze blurring your vision as your orgasm approaches, you’d see the tears brimming in your boyfriend’s eyes.

Heeseung groans behind you, dragging you down harder onto his hand. "Come for me, baby," he hisses. "Let him see what he's never made you do."

You cry out—loud, messy, shuddering as your orgasm hits you like a wave crashing over glass.

And Jake?

Jake's hands are gripping your thighs like he's holding on for dear life.

══════════════════════════

• a/n: wrote this in the bathroom at my internship office

[phoenixglacier]

5.6 Paralogism Archon Quest Interlude Chapter: Act IV

This quest has single-handedly made me happier than anything.

Spoilers for literally everything below.

The 5.6 update has just come out, and with it came the new Archon Quest in Mondstadt!

I’ll start by saying I super super enjoyed it and was also super super looking forward to it. (This is not an unbiased review)

Some notes before we begin:

I play CN dub and EN sub. Always have and always will. It’s a personal preference, but also because mandarin is my second language so I can understand quite a bit. (Fun fact: the dub and sub have quite a bit of difference even in the basic meaning.)

I’ve been in and out of genshin, but I first started back in 1.6.

It’s completely possible that anyone might not have enjoyed this quest for any reason — rather than a review, these are just thoughts I need to get out of my head.

Thoughts in no particular order:

It took just under 3 hours for me to finish the whole thing. There are enough opportunities to pause and take breaks, and most of the fighting isn’t intensive, and the dialogue doesn’t just infodump on you. All in all nice pacing for me!

Dahlia’s relationship with Venti was surprisingly exactly what I was fantasising; he’s close friends with Venti and fully aware of his silly little personality, and it only makes his faith in Barbatos all the more stronger. I think lots of people (Jean, Diluc, Kaeya) love their archon even more when they can see him as a person, so it’s so fun that Dahlia is in the same boat while having an even stronger faith.

The way they kept locking eyes really sold how close of a relationship they have. And then their silly little conversation where both of them danced around Venti’s true identity and teased each other was also super adorable. I look forward to learning more about Dahlia – he seems so professional and also cheeky.

Dahlia running messages for Venti was also something predicted beforehand, but I was so excited to see it come true!

They jumped straight into the trial, which was pretty awesome! That way I wasn’t anxiously waiting through gameplay for something to go wrong out of nowhere. I think putting it at the beginning also showed they teased the right part, since that way we pretty much all started out with similar information whether we watched the trailer or not.

Kaeya did a great job as the defence. Earlier when the trailer dropped, I found it interesting that he was the one taking on that role, since it’s not really his thing? Kaeya’s job usually involves intel, infiltration, negotiation… in particular, I thought he might be up there to buy time, like maybe the whole trial was a diversion. So when it was revealed that Kaeya was performing an elaborate façade the entire time, it was really personally satisfying because it matched up with my thoughts. It was the same with Albedo: the trailer seemed like it was leaning fully into him being evil, so I did guess he was putting on some sort of performance too — he does like to act a little evil sometimes. For enrichment.

While I listened to Hertha and her evidence, I kept thinking “The evidence looks really bad for Albedo, but also isn’t conclusive evidence at all.” Her behaviour and the behaviour of the rest of the knights really made me feel that it was strange she was so set on persecuting him. I was already imagining that maybe it wasn’t really her, because she was acting so dramatically. The payoff was super sweet!

Knowing that this update was coming, I rewatched Act I of Albedo’s story quest, 1.2’s The Chalk Prince and the Dragon, and 2.3’s Shadows Amidst Snowstorms to be updated on the whole story beforehand. As a result, my understanding of everything they said during the quest was pretty smooth — I can’t be objective about how smooth it would’ve been otherwise. That being said, I like how they explained things as they came up too!

Pacing felt pretty good for me! I preferred this style of going back and forth between objectives and dialogue in shorter intervals. I personally hope they do this more in the future!

They brought in absolutely all the characters, which made me so happy! I play Genshin for the characters after all! Of course we had our major cast, but I was super happy that characters like Bennett also had their moments. It also felt super appropriate since it was a Mondstadt-wide situation. It was also really fun to see them mixing up the pairings a bit, with Lisa teaching Razor, Eula going with Klee, Amber teaming with Mika, and so on. It really sold the idea that our characters have lives and connections outside of what we are privy to, instead of just convenient pairs. It also seemed like a way to show that these characters aren’t isolated anymore and are becoming a tight community of people.

Speaking of community! Mondstadt has grown so much closer and trusting than way back in the Prologue. From Diluc working together with the knights, to Albedo freely trusting them with his biggest secret, to everyone knowing about the personal lives of NPCs, it really seemed like they’d become so much stronger than before by strengthening their trust. 

People pointed out the presence of Donna way back in the trailer and joked that she was only here to watch Diluc — another awesome payoff! I also liked that they brought up her crush enough that it was okay if you didn’t really know her before. The same with Beatrice and Quinn. It was made so special because we’ve known their stories for so long, but the story was understandable without it too.

In terms of more characters I didn’t expect, all that Durin talk definitely made me think about Mini Durin. I figured they had decided not to bring him up, so seeing Mini Durin show up really blew my expectations out of the water.

I will say that unlike all the Shadows Amidst Snowstorms references, I can’t imagine anyone would understand Mini Durin’s situation without having visited Simulanka (4.8 Summertide Scales and Tales). I really hope they decide to bring back all the events someday. 

The tease of Durin’s human form completely caught me off-guard! I’m so excited to see what they’ll do with him. Maybe when he comes out as a playable character, they’ll make Simulanka a proper permanent quest in some form..?

I love Venti so much. So much. And this quest did him so much justice. It was established way back in the Archon Quest Prologue and his Story Quest that Venti constantly switches between “Venti mode” and “Archon mode”. Miaojiang’s voice acting makes that difference really beautiful. In “Venti mode”, Venti purposefully plays up his weakness, ego, love for drinks, and all-round puts on a face as a bard of no particular threat. It’s an act, one that Venti really likes playing, but an act nonetheless. This quest showcased this really well! Venti was involving himself so much and using his godly powers, and then putting on an act to hide his identity when he thought he needed it.

The extent of Venti’s involvement also felt really warranted. The knights clearly felt they had it handled, so all he did was give them support in specific ways and make sure to keep an eye on everything going on. It’s a type of archonly oversight that just feels so comforting. It’s also funny that between Venti and Jean, Venti can’t possibly succeed in teasing her.

I imagine both Albedo and Kaeya would have felt really happy that they officially have the blessing of Barbatos (per the wind communication spell)

More gameplay things: I really like setting up the story so that Lumine doesn’t always have to be involved in every little thing, such as when Diluc and Kaeya were on the bridge. The trial characters were a neat bridge to achieve that, but I do wish they let us choose to use our own characters too if we had them built!

That beautiful still art of Venti, Varka, and the Hexenzirkel really struck me because they used Venti’s modern outfit instead of his archon look. And it felt like it all just kept teasing more and more information. Albedo navigating the Hexenzirkel like a big, complicated extended family was awesome. Just listening to him negotiate with Alice while calling her Āyí made me feel things. Him ultimate referring to the whole situation as “just another day for his family” and calling Durin his brother were perfect.

More bits and pieces here, but I like the angle they took for Albedo’s pursuit of science. To my understanding, he believes in “Knowledge for the sake of knowledge”, while at the same time, being conscious of the consequences of acting carelessly. In other words, he doesn’t inherently aim to better the world with his science, nor does he believe there are inherent consequences to doing drastic things like creation. But he also doesn’t ignore the possibility of causing harm. It’s not my personal approach to science, but it’s very reasonable and very congruent with his character.

I can’t possibly cover absolutely everything, but Eula deserves a mention. I was wondering why she wasn’t speaking up about our experience in Shadows Amidst Snowstorms during the trial, and thought it might be because she’s worried her reputation as a Lawrence would just cast further suspicion, but it turns out she was part of the plan all along. I love how panicked she was when she lost Klee. I love how she happily played along with Klee after that. I love how a subtle signal from her was all Amber needed to know exactly what she wanted. I love how when Amber heard Eula kept it all a secret, she was so proud of her secret-keeping abilities instead of being upset. Also shout-out to Diluc saying that he could tell Kaeya wasn’t acting right, and continuing the trend of protecting him. They clearly still have a ways to go, but it feels like young adult awkward distance to me.

Bringing up pacing again, but I really liked the pace that they gave us info. Nothing is in a huge chunk, and everything is enough to understand what’s happening, and Paimon validates us when we’re not supposed to know something. We’re told as soon as it’s revealed that all of this was a setup and now we have to defend the city, and then between fights and dialogues they explain the details of the plan to us, which made all of it way more enjoyable. Later when Albedo mentioned that Gold devoured Naberius, Paimon’s reaction let me know I was supposed to feel confused, which immediately made the experience comfortable.

Also what do you mean Gold ate the Ruler of Life. Albedo. What is wrong with your family.

I think it’s very fitting that Albedo looks a little crazed and perfect trailer bait when he’s creating a new body for Durin — it’s when he most resembles his mother, after all. Also, he is very unrepentant about killing several whoppers. Mondstadt is lucky he’s one of them.

Also Venti in his sniper's nest never happened, trailer blatantly lied to us. But something I thought about when I saw him up there with his bow was that Venti actually gets involved in his people's business super quickly, but rarely through combat. At the time, I thought him showing up in public in combat mode showed how dire the situation was. But instead, the threat was so adequately contained by the knights that Venti didn't have to bust out combat mode at all, and instead helped out in his usual Barbatos way (and a little more!)

Closing thoughts:

I was so excited leading up to this update that it nearly scared me. A part of me thought, if I have such high expectations, what if it can’t meet my expectations anymore? I even speedran the whole Natlan quest over the course of four days so that I would be ready for anything in this quest, and I had a lot of issues with it. I had built the Mondstadt quest up in my mind to be this huge thing — thankfully, it delivered with flying colours. The singular only thing that would have made it better is if Venti sang a song.

Based on the recent behind the scenes where the developers talked about Nod-Krai but also a lot about their process in general, I feel like returning to Mondstadt was likely part of their plan to wrap up all the plot threads they’ve put out from the beginning. They seem to be listening to things that the players have said about missing pieces of information or certain technologies being too jarring. The return to Mondstadt was handled beautifully, and felt like coming home to see everyone stronger together.

I wrote this because I’m still bursting with excitement from the quest and need to speak to someone about this, so into the void it goes.

[6okuto]

TS Cast Celebrating Your Birthday

GN!Reader | most of this can be read platonically! reader often forgets their birthday or doesn't really celebrate (but implicitly wants to!!). solo chara and a few for all of them at the end ^__^

for reg my beloved @bananacockatiel oh my Goodness HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! YAHYAYHO

LEANDER

Doesn't matter how long he's known your birthday's coming up—maybe he's known for months, maybe you only mentioned it last week—this is the most uncasual guy ever. /affectionate /what's your problem. But I will say if you've known each other a while and he finds out with days to spare? It's kind of hilarious to see how much Leander's eyes widen and the panic that sets in for a second. Genuinely has no clue how he's fumbled this hard.

If you don't celebrate because of bad memories or emotions, he says he wants to make good ones for you instead. This is your day! You think you don't deserve the celebration or gifts? WRONG!!

Obviously if you don't enjoy big parties, he won't throw one. Saying this because out of all the LI's I think Leander is the only one to think of or really Capable of planning a big party himself. Cross out the idea to announce it's your birthday at the Wet Wick and say drinks are on him and that everyone who gives you a gift gets .. something cool.

But that doesn't mean he won't spoil you and give you everything you rightfully deserve!! You guys can spend the day together, even the week if you want! He promises he's completely and wholly yours, duties taken care of and handed off to trusted Adders.

He's calling in favours, charming his pants off (not literally), remembering everything and every place you've shown interest in. You don't even remember a third of them, but Leander does. He is LOCKED! IN!

By the sound of this you think you'd be overwhelmed. You probably are at first because you don't expect how much he's prepared, even knowing it's Leander, and you're not used to it. But Leander is nothing if not attentive and working for you! However much walking or social interaction etc is your limit, he works with it in mind, and is always willing to take breaks or, if you're out and about, go home if you'd like. You still have him after all :-) ;) /silly flirting but sincere promise.

Little magic show... Leander's the type of guy to take you to a hidden area and show off with pretty lights and magic and watch you with an affectionate smile. Type of guy to pull you to dance when there's no music so you both start singing. Etc.

If you're completely worn out from the day, he'll part with a final "Happy birthday" (and kiss), letting you go to bed. If you'd like him to join you, he's happy to cuddle you to bed too!

VERE

I couldn't have animal ears and a tail because my already shit poker face would be even worse. Him? Interested/invested in it being your birthday soon? Yes! Vere plays it off if it's just not really a big deal to you. But if it's because you haven't enjoyed your birthday in a long time, he has a longer pause of... contemplation...

Anyone think about how many shitty ones he's spent alone or working and how many he might've tried to make up for it?! 🤔

I think. He would want to do something/go some place special...? His initial thought isn't to just hang out for the day. That isn't good enough for him or for you!! I wouldn't put it past him to just be like. Be ready by 7 and dress nice. And you just have to trust him. As you always have to /lh /vere move

Type of guy to tell you to use your birthday to your advantage. Something something joke about a fake marriage proposal for double the free service before Vere reminds you that it'd be quite unbelievable to your audience that he'd be getting married, but he's flattered you were up for the idea

Vere sticks by your side at any crowded establishments/venues. This is one of the few times that, if he can't just call someone over, he'll tell you to stay sitting while he gets the drinks. I hope you're honoured to not only have his undivided attention for the night, but some of his service!

Vere picking up the bill ?! Voluntarily ?! Even declining your attempt to pay ?! Though if you want to give him the money feel free ;) /silly /he will not take your money put it Away!!

Art gift art gift! His soft spot for handmade gifts works here too!! Debating if I'm endeared more by Vere thinking of what to draw super easily because it's you, or erasing multiple ideas (like the drawing of Mhin) because. It's you.

Hah.. Vere trying to do something related to your hobbies (e.g. I don't know. crocheting a little guy. cooking.). struggling.. getting annoyed but also refusing to give up... it's totally because of his image and pride and not because he really cares about you of course obviously. His respect for your interest grows even more if he's particularly bad at it.

MHIN

"They don't know how to celebrate [their birthday] though, or if they even should..." Okayyyy. We got two peas in a pod here

They try to gauge/ask about how you feel about your birthday. Instinctively, they want to do something, but I think Mhin's the quickest to worry that maybe you really don't want that, or that their ideas wouldn't be...good (enough)... They also face the most turmoil about buying or making a gift.

When it comes to plans, Mhin keeps it lowkey. If they know you enjoy the others' company or are their friends, they (begrudgingly) mention your birthday because even if they hate Vere and can't stand being around Leander too long, your birthday is important! They'd like to see you happy :-)

Your birthday comes around... you've forgotten... Mhin greets you with a gift... you're like ?! What's the occasion.. For a second they panic like oh my god it isn't your birthday? Anyway it turns out fine and they Very Lightly chide you for forgetting with a sigh

They schedule the day so they don't have commission work to do, and also finish working early the days leading up to it to look for a gift. Luckily, they pay attention to your interests, so they easily pick through things and get something thoughtful!! No worries about that fr :3 (I can also see them making something!! It's just... looking at their schedule.. um.. Wow.)

They also write a heartfelt letter that they Don't let you open until you've separated because they're embarrassed. It isn't very long, but it's sweet!

They want to treat you to food and take you stargazing among other things, but they keep reminding you that if you'd like to do something else, you can. And you're like Mhin no this is really nice thank you and they're . . . . (blush sprite) but trust you're being honest

The cats... orz. While I'm fascinated by the thought of Mhin as a supernatural cat whisperer, I'm endeared by the idea that the cats are just more affectionate that day without prompting and you get to say They Knew! who can say you're wrong!!

Mhin gets food for you and the cats want a piece... they struggle to say no but this is one of those times that hey, this isn't for you... they gently bump cats away and try to keep the meal out of reach... and then you're like you can have a bit little buddy :3 and Mhin's like ?! ... Of course you would

KURAS

?! Insert surprised Kuras sprite here. He knows he's often busy working and doesn't see you as much as he wants, but your birthday is soon and he's only finding out now? Do you know how ironic it is that the guy who forgets his own birthday is shocked you forgot (to mention) yours btw. You're both pointing at each other like Hello?? Kuras concedes and says Fair point

I think. He's pretty confident in making plans himself. But I'm also not sure if he's super aware of local events or fancy restaurants with how.. his life is... so maybe he asks Leander or Ais or other visitors.

He probably still has to work for a portion of the day, but trust that he keeps thinking of you when he has the time to spare. As soon as Kuras sees you, he's smiling and asking how your birthday's been so far, not letting you worry about his day at work.

He's more talkative today! Consider his openness a birthday gift alone—talking about the history of places, little funny stories, things he's done that people would be shocked by. He's also interested in you sharing stories too, and I think. Few have heard Kuras laugh. And YOU can and will be one of the few today!! Trust.

I don't think Kuras's gift would be handmade but that could depend on the time he has. Not to say that handmade gifts are The best and only ones ever. Trust that he'd have mulled over the decision and chosen with a lot of care!! Handing it to you, he describes his thought process and reassures you that if you don't like it, you don't have to keep it.

If it isn't cold, you end the night with a walk by the river! Maybe you talk about your day, or you can just appreciate the view and walk quietly together. But as someone with a winter birthday, I recognize those who might be unlucky with the weather. Sob. In that case,... I'd hope you get to stay at one of your homes... I feel like Kuras wouldn't want to bring you to the clinic like. LOL. He'd be pretty apologetic about that

Iirc Kuras like, radiates. warmth/heat. or something. So if that's at all correct, if it gets chilly as you walk place to place, he stays closer to you! Or at least offers to do so. Walking through town holding hands with the handsome angel doctor... Think about that. Yeah

AIS

Guy who deeply understands not admitting you enjoy thoughtful gestures or want a party. Everyone here has issues.

He's very good at keeping his plans a secret and playing it cool! It helps that your birthday is barely on your mind, so he can dismiss things as chores or boredom. Plus y'know groupmind stuff something working together something. He's so good you might think he's forgotten, or is super super chill about it.

You're at the Seaspring... Princess is excited... You're like Did something happen? Ais stares. "You didn't forget, did you?" Yes you absolutely did. He jokingly rolls his eyes and like, pats your head or hands you a gift or something and says happy birthday.

If he knows you'd enjoy a surprise party or something with the others, he'll make sure to find some time in the evening (if you aren't already planning on going to the Wet Wick)! But your birthday always ends with just the two of you so you can wind down and relax.

I see him being adamant about you making a wish. Like it's almost weird but also this makes sense to me...? Not sure why. Something something having something to look forward to, it's cute, something something

Walk with me. Matching jewelry. That wouldn't be his only gift though. I think Ais would get you something that's Very You or very helpful, even unexpectedly so!! He noticed an issue or inconvenience you've been dealing with without you even complaining about it.

Mm. Not beneath him to do a little prank gift beforehand though. Less Exploding Glitter, more opening a box to a smaller box then a smaller one and smaller one.

Princess BRINGING YOU A GIFT!! wouldn't that be lovely I dream of this. You give Ais no credit despite the note with his handwriting and Princess looks soo happy and Ais is playfully offended

At the end of the night, he asks if this birthday made up for all the bad ones, or ones you've missed. He has a lighthearted tone, but you hear the genuine curiosity laced in his question. When you say yes, his smile softens into something more genuine. "Good. You deserve it."

ALL

Partyayyyy!! These are Vibes for sure. But they're all behaving themselves and being.. nice enough.. if they're all purposefully in the same space for a (relatively) long period of time,, that says something about you! Great and powerful influence!! Even if they're bickering, individually, I prOMISE they hope you have a good birthday!

If this is a modern AU you bet your ass Leander is going Group Picture/Selfie :D !! Now do a silly one LIKFNSJHGBJHBG

I can imagine him, Vere, and Ais all saying some version of "You want us/these guys to do anything? It's your birthday" which is why I didn't put this in their solos like Ok ms repetitive. Leander's feels more sincere, Vere and Ais are fully prepared to take the piss. You can get some weird ass bet or situation going on. Ais will start a fight in your honour #happybirthday before punching someone in the FACE! (He will also refrain from starting one if That's your wish)

Sure you can open all their gifts in front of them... As long as you're prepared for snarky comments and ranking of gifts from your audience. It isn't a competition but as soon as you pick up Leander's gift Vere is giving it a 0/10 throw it in the trash it's probably some experimental beverage that tastes like the bottom of his boot LFMSGHJHB

(Though I think Mhin would be the most against the idea so you might open theirs later)

Also. I think this works with multiple LIs if not All of them but if you're ever like, you didn't have to do this, why did you do this for me, etc. etc. they tease you like, Did you forget it's your birthday again? We've been celebrating for a while already.

reg... so sorry if it's not ur birthday anymore when u see this.. i don't think it will be.. SOB i forgot about timezones oh my goodness... I HOPE IT WAS A GOOD ONE!! :') am honored u let me write this. Kicking my feet jumping up and down 🤍 🤍

[lampridius]

hii !! can i request anaxa + jing yuan with a reader who struggles with really bad paranoia and often has panic attacks because of it? ^_^

𝙃𝙎𝙍 𝙈𝙀𝙉 𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝘼 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍 𝙏𝙃𝘼𝙏 𝙃𝘼𝙎 𝙋𝘼𝙍𝘼𝙉𝙊𝙄𝘼 ᯓ★ 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀: anaxa, jing yuan ᯓ★ rules | masterlist | 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁 ᯓ★ 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝗮𝗱𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ᯓ★ 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀:

#𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗫𝗔

he doesn’t try to fix you.

the first time you wake him in the middle of the night - heart pounding, voice shaking, convinced that someone’s watching the apartment through the window - he doesn’t roll his eyes. he doesn’t try to logic you out of it. instead, he turns around, calmly walks off, and checks the window for you. the whole room. twice.

then he turns to you and says, “there’s no one here, dear. it’s just us.”

you don’t believe him at first. how could you? your brain’s telling you otherwise, louder and louder, until it’s a scream behind your ribs. he sees that too. and he doesn’t get impatient. he kneels beside you, hands on your shaking knees, and repeats, slowly, “you’re safe. with me. even if your mind says you’re not.”

he studies your panic like a puzzle - not coldly, but carefully. he learns your patterns, your spirals, the specific phrases you need to hear when the paranoia starts to spike. he keeps water next to the bed. grounding objects in every room. he tracks how long it takes for your breathing to settle when he talks versus when he holds you.

he never calls you dramatic. never tells you to "calm down." he just keeps showing up, moment after moment, like safety is a habit he's willing to spend his life mastering - for you.

#𝗝𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗬𝗨𝗔𝗡

you call him too often. that’s what you think, anyway.

in the middle of the day, at night, sometimes right after he’s left - your hands shaking as you whisper, “can you just… tell me you’re okay? that i’m okay? that no one’s coming?”

he always answers. always.

“i’m fine, my dearest,” he says gently, even if he’s buried in work. “and so are you. but i can come back if you need me to.”

and sometimes you say yes, and he does. no questions asked.

when the panic attacks hit hard - your breath hitching, the world spinning, convinced someone’s out to get you - he holds you like he’s anchoring you to the earth. he guides your hand to his heartbeat and says, “count with me.” he speaks softly, again and again, even if you’re curled up and sobbing into his chest.

“no one’s coming. it’s just me.”

he smells like home. he never pushes, never asks why your mind does what it does. he simply stays. brushes your hair back. kisses your temple. reminds you, over and over, “you’re safe. right here. i’m not going anywhere.”

he lets you rest when it’s over, curled in his arms, exhausted. and when you apologize for breaking down again, he just hums, low and warm.

“you don’t need to be perfect to be loved.”

and he means it.

©𝗖𝗢𝗣𝗬𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 ● @lampridius 2025

[wonxlvr]

𓂃۶ৎ₊⊹ i. rin .ᐟ

SYNOPSIS: too wrapped up in sports, rin doesn't realize how much he needed you, until he does.

STARRING: exes to lovers rin itoshi x gn yn!

NOTICE: wc- 1k (1280), intentional lower case, angst-y, no other warnings!

you and rin had been dating for a little over 3 months by now and you knew he was crazy about soccer, his dream to devour his older brother, sae, on the field. you were well aware of what you were getting yourself into and you were somewhat okay of it. you knew you couldn't compete with his first love. i mean, this kid was obsessed with soccer. Always devoting his time to practice, and watching soccer clips off field.

aside from his soccer geeked, cold, stoic personality and expression, rin wasnt all that bad. sure, it sure took a hell of a time for him to get comfortable with you, but it sure was worth the trouble in times when he would hold you in his arms after matches, muttering something about his useless teammates getting in the way of his goals or when he would sneak not-so-slick glances your way during big games.

but one day you noticed he starting getting distant. you knew he practiced a lot, but he started shoving his head into soccer more (if that was even possible for him!?). he started practicing every minute of the day, you practically had to pull him inside his house at night. though it did bother you that he barely made time for you anymore, you didnt say anything, trying to avoid drama or conflict at all cost. he liked that he could work towards his goal at the expense of nothing in your relationship, what he didnt know was that it was taking a toll you.

this went on for weeks before you finally said something.

"rin? can i talk to you for a sec?" you asked, eyebrows furrowed slightly as you bit the insides of your cheeks. "not right now," he spat, not even sparring a glance at you too focused on dribbling.

"please, its kind of important." you pleaded. his eyes widened slightly, finally turning all his attention on you for the first time today, perhaps even this week. he nodded before walking towards, sensing your urgency.

"whats up?" he said, avoiding eye contact as he rubbed the back of his neck. "rin, i know that soccer is important to you, but im still your partner. dont you think i deserve some of your time-", "then lets break up," he deadpanned. "wha-?" your eyes widening in surprise, realizing he was serious. "if you're just gonna get it the way of my goal, then lets break up." rin sighed, as if he was frustrated as of why you didnt understand something so simple.

you gulped, looking down. "fine, if thats what you want." you said trying to cover your shaky voice. you wanted to put up a fight, beg him to stay, but you didnt. in all honesty, you were tired. tired of constantly being insecure, tired of his obsession, tired of being his second choice, tired of waiting.

rin nodded before turning back around, "see you around, yn." he uttered, not sparing a second glance.

that was exactly 17 days ago, the wounds still felt raw and fresh. you sighed as you tapped your finger nails on the fake wood of the desk as you stared into space. you and rin have talked since, neither of you even making a move. he seemed to be doing just fine without you and that was all the conformation you needed.

as school ended, you walked out the school with your bag slung over your shoulder. you decided you'd drop by the soccer field, y'know, just to.. observe, not for anything weird or anything...

your eyes darted across the field as you noticed it was empty. odd, usually there would be atleast one person practicing, that person obviously being rin. until your eyes caught sight of a person in front of you.

rin itoshi?

your breath was caught in your throat as you looked at him with the same, surprised expression he blinked right back at you.

"yn?" he croaked, "you still come by this way?" he asked, back to his nonchalant demeanor as he hesitantly stepped forward.

you almost nodded before shaking your head. "ah- no, i just thought i'd um- stop by." you said, pursing your lips. he raised an eyebrow suspiciously at you, "no not like that!" you corrected before he got the wrong idea. "i-.. i was taking the shortcut", "you do know this is a longer path, right?" he blanked, catching you right in your lie. by now, rin was standing right in front of you, looming right over your head. was he always this tall?

"ah yes, thats what i meant.. um im gonna get going!" you said awkwardly backing up.

"wait," he called grabbing your wrist, surprising both you and himself. your eyes locked for what seemed like forever before he cleared his throat.

"look, im sorry for, y'know." he avoided admitting your breakup out loud, as if it was an unspoken rule. "i was stupid and wasn't thinking straight." he sighed looking down, to ashamed to meet your gaze.

"i pushed you away when all i wanted was for you to get closer. i didn't plan out for it to turn out that way, really. i guess, i took you for granted. i thought we were doing well but it was hard for me to juggle the two things i loved, soccer and well.. you." he confessed, finally looking right back at you. "i wish i could've been smarter or seen how much youve been hurting because of me. i never meant to make you feel like that at all, and i regret it so much. i was too wrapped up in soccer but i didnt think it would affect you. i had my goals and pushed you away, not realizing it was you who i needed." he gulped. "i dont know what im expecting out of this, but i just wanted to explain myself." he spoke while rubbing the back of his head, a habit you knew all too well.

you stared at him with blown eyes as you processed his words. what.. what? what? you were utterly rendered speechless, looking stupid with your jaw open in shock.

he half-chuckled, sounding more like a scoff of some sort, at your reaction despite his honest, heavy confession. "i dont really know how to say this but, your truly the one i love. sure, football was my first love, but your my first love. ill try to change if that means i can hold you again." he pleaded, holding both of your hands.

finally after being dumbstruck, you opened your mouth. "rin, im not asking you to change. i love how passionate you are, i just wish it actually felt like a relationship." you buzzed, looking at him with the softest eyes and faintest smile. "but i'd be more than happy to cheer your name again."

his eyes sparkled so lightly you could barely notice it if i wasnt for the way you looked at him. you hugged him as hesitantly hugged you back.

" 'promise i will put you first. it doesnt matter who i become in the future, as long as i have you by my side." he whispered in your ear.

you let an airy laugh escape at his promise, pulling away to get a good look at him again. "since when were you so good with words?"

he shrugged, "ive been, i just never had a reason to try 'till now."

you shook your head as you smiled up at him. "soooo are we dating or what?"

rin looked at you with that stoic expression again as he scoffed. "what was your first clue?"

©️ 2025 all rights reserved to wonxlvr - do not copy, translate, or claim my work.

ALAS IT IS DONE. this was based on "high all the time" by the neighbourhood btw if u couldnt tell. first post abt anime kinda nervous... also guys i need bluelock/haikyuu moots so pls moot me 🆙 🙁 idk might abandon this acc again jk (or am i.)