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stevesgother · 3 months ago

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Chalkboard Hearts - S.H

Pairing - KindergartenTeacher!Steve Harrington x Fem!Mom!Reader

WC - 4.3k

Contains - strangers to friends to lovers, slowburn, so much fluff, teacher!steve and mom!reader. No descriptions are given of reader or abbey, other than that abbey has curly hair, steve and reader are the same age (about 24-25), set early-mid 90's

AN - i don’t write for kids often so i hope this reads well and is realistic. i don’t have a clear end for this series in mind, so i’m gonna keep writing it for as long as y’all want it :) feel free to send requests for blurbs for this AU if you so wish and as always, thank you - emma

“Moooooom,”

You hear a tiny voice whisper in your ear. Most mornings started this way, if not all of them. Whoever said getting children out of bed in the morning was difficult had clearly never met Abbey. Every day you peeled your tired eyes open to see the miniature version of them staring back at you, the only difference being they were much wider, and lacking the distinct fog of leftover sleep.

Today her hair was sticking up in all different directions; frizzy curls here and tangled knots there. Your daughter takes after you in many ways, one being that she’s an active sleeper and it shows when she wakes up. Her bed was always disheveled; embroidered blankets strewn across her bedroom floor and little red lines indented in her cheeks where they had been smushed against her pillow.

“Mornin’ Ab,” you say, voice gravelly with disuse. “Have you made your bed yet?” you eye her suspiciously.

You know she hasn’t and she confirms as much when she spins on her heel and dashes for her room down the hall. Truthfully, you couldn’t care less if her bed was made or not, it was merely a guise to buy you a few extra minutes of peace and quiet each morning.

︵୨୧︵

When she doesn’t reappear, you assume she’s gotten distracted and decide to make your way downstairs to scrounge for something to eat. You never ate breakfast before you had Abbey; either for lack of time or because the smell of food so early in the morning made you nauseous. Eating three meals a day was just one bullet point on the long, running list of changes in your routine since becoming a mother.

Two bowls of Frosted Flakes were set out on the table after deciding there was no time for anything more nutritious.

“Abbey!” You call, “Breakfast!”

You hear the sounds of sniffling and small feet padding on hardwood as she enters the kitchen– pouting. You try not to gape at the utter monstrosity of an outfit she's put on. She whines, “I don’t know what I want to wear!”

You sense a meltdown coming already, on today of all days. Pre-school was easy, as Abbey was a fairly agreeable kid. Or at least she used to be. Lately it felt like you had to battle her about anything and everything.

“You look so beautiful, Ab!” you reassure her, attempting to deescalate the impending tantrum. She has on pink corduroy pants and a frilly forest green blouse. For accessories she’s sporting a chunky plastic necklace that definitely came with a dress-up kit, along with a tutu. You have no idea where the tutu came from.

Eventually she decides not to fight you, at least not on her outfit. However, as she climbs into the kitchen chair, she scowls down at the soggy cereal in front of her and asks in the most darling tone she can muster,

“Can I have Scooby fruit snacks instead?”

“How about I pack some in your lunchbox today and you can eat them at snack time?” you try to barter.

Sneaking a glance at the clock, it mocks you with its unforgiving hands– you’re going to be late and your daughter will have skipped supposedly the most important meal of the day. Some mother you are.

“But I want them right now!” Her petite fists bang against the wooden table and she’s a heap of dramatics wriggling in her chair.

“Hey, what did we talk about? Yelling is not nice, even when we’re frustrated. Right?” She acknowledges you with a teary nod along with more crying and petulant moaning that can be heard as you run to the bathroom and grab a hairbrush with two bows. When you return, she’s still moping over her breakfast, but taking bites nonetheless. A win is a win.

You begin detangling the mess of knots and snarls at the back of her head. “Ouch, Mommy!” she cries when you try to comb through a particularly tangled section.

You place one of your hands over the crown of her head like a claw in a poor attempt at keeping her from squirming, “The more you move the longer it takes, sweetheart,”

“Hmph.” she pouts, folding her arms over her chest. When all is said and done, your daughter has her hair parted and tied into two high pigtails, secured with little pink bows, and you’re rushing her out of the front door with haste.

︵୨୧︵

In all the hubbub, you realize you’ve barely gotten yourself ready. Reaching over to buckle Abbey into her carseat, she asks,

“When can I sit up front with you?”

“When you’re this many,” You hold out both your hands to display all ten fingers.

She mimics you with her own smaller fingers, “Ten?”

“That’s right!” You smack a kiss on the crown of her head as you pull back, she smells like her strawberry scented shampoo.

“Watch your feetsies,” you warn and she tucks her legs unnecessarily far into her chest as you close the door.

The ride is filled with the usual nonsensical ramblings of a five-year-old. She beams back at you through the rearview mirror, eyes sparkling and nodding fervently when you ask if she’s excited to make some new friends today. Your social butterfly, the complete antithesis of you.

The elementary school is only a few miles from your home, and before you know it you’re circling a crowded parking lot and preparing to drop your only child off for her first day of kindergarten. The rush of emotions you feel are indecipherable, something like a mix of somberness, excitement, relief, and anxiety.

As you walk towards the front of the building, you’re surrounded by dozens of kids aged five through twelve greeting their teachers and saying ‘Hello’ to friends they haven’t seen all summer. The teachers are holding laminated signs that indicate their name and what grade they teach; thank God for that. Abbey’s little fist squeezes around your index finger and you can tell she’s becoming nervous, despite her previous unbridled anticipation.

“Hey, it’s okay,” You assure, “Look, I think that’s your teacher right there,” you point towards a tall, brunette man standing near the double doors.

A shy smile tugs at the corners of her lips when she sees the teacher in question. He’s dressed in a striped button-down shirt and khakis, with a lanyard dangling from his front pocket; the typical teacher attire.The sign he’s holding reads, ‘Mr. Harrington’ and just below that, ‘Kindergarten’ with a little cartoon apple printed next to his name. He looks young compared to the rest of the staff, closer to your own age. This must be his first year teaching.

As you approach him, Abbey treks in front, eager to meet him. Her backpack is adorned with sparkly butterflies and it covers nearly her entire torso; bumping the backs of her knees with every step she takes.

The man crouches down to her level and greets her, “Hey there,” he offers a warm smile, “what’s your name?”

“Abbey,” she says timidly, twiddling her fingers and flashing a toothy grin at him. She doesn’t bother with her last name, honestly you’re not positive that she even knows it.

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Abbey,” he holds a gentle hand out for her to shake and she does so hesitantly, “My name’s Mr. Harrington, and I’m going to be your teacher this year. How does that sound?” The way he’s so patient and attentive with her stirs something within you that you haven’t felt in years, but he’s a teacher, for goodness sake. He looks up then, locking eyes with you and rising back to his full height.

This time, it’s your turn to shake his hand. “I’m Steve.” He flashes you a smile directly out of a Colgate ad and you hope you’re not blushing as much as you feel like you are.

You must look nervous because he immediately assures you that Abbey’s in good hands this year. “We’re having an open house tonight, I hope to see you both there,”

You glance at your daughter, “What’d you think, Ab? That sound fun?”

“Yes!” She squeals and almost falls over from the weight of her backpack.

“Okay then,” With that, you crouch down to give Abbey one final hug. It’s clear that she’s itching to go socialize with the other kids, so you try not to delay her with your sappiness.

“Be good today, okay?” you give her a tight squeeze and a smacking kiss on her little cheek, “I’ll be back to get you at two-forty-five.”

“What will the clock say?” She asks inquisitively. Her favorite question.

“It’ll say ‘two-four-five’,” She nods in understanding, “But I bet you’ll be having so much fun that you won’t even remember to look.”

She’s already on her way to the door when she calls, “Love you, mommy!” and blows you a kiss with her lips puckered. You blow her one back and fight the tears threatening to surface. When did she get so big?

A pang of insecurity settles in your chest when you chance a look around and see all the children accompanied by two parents. You begin the walk back to your sedan before the thought has a chance to fester.

︵୨୧︵

Six hours goes by alarmingly fast when it’s spent running around your house in a frenzy, trying to catch up on all the cleaning you aren’t able to do when there’s a rampant five-year-old on the loose, making a brand new mess where you just cleaned an old one.

Before you can even register the time has passed, it's two o’clock and you need to pick Abbey up in a mere forty five minutes. Looking around your house, you feel satisfied with the progress you were able to make on tidying and call it a day.

This time, you decide to try and appear more presentable before visiting the school, and firmly remind yourself that it has nothing to do with how flustered your daughter’s kindergarten teacher makes you. By the time you’re dressed and have pulled your hair up into a halfway decent top knot; it’s time to go.

︵୨୧︵

The line for pickup wraps around the front of the building, aided by crossing guards and supervised by a few teachers. Twenty minutes into waiting, you regret not having gotten here a little sooner. ‘Tomorrow’ you think. Soon, you catch sight of two little pigtails bobbing up and down as your Abbey skips over to you, grinning ear to ear while Steve watches from the doors she just exited.

“Mommy!” she shouts as she bounds towards you. You place the car in park and run around to greet her.

“Hi, Bug!” you exclaim as you bend at the waist to pick her up. She gives you a tight squeeze around the neck, and you catch a split second of Steve’s gaze over her shoulder before he’s disappearing back inside the school

Plopping her as gently as possible into her carseat and fastening the straps over her chest, her mouth is already moving a mile a minute– absolutely ecstatic to tell you all about the activities she got up to while you were gone.

“What is ‘open house’ ?” she asks, kicking her feet like she can’t possibly contain all the excitement inside her little body.

“It’s just a chance for all the mommies and daddies to meet your teachers,” you explain, “And you get to show me around your new school, fun right?”

Her face lights up like a christmas tree at the prospect, “Are we gonna go?!”

“Yes, but first we have to eat dinner. What sounds good?”

Without missing a beat, she yells a little too loudly, “McDonalds!”

You want to say yes, of course you do, but your shifts at the ER barely cover the minimum of your living expenses. Your resolve begins to crumble, however, when she looks at you with those saucer-round eyes, and her bottom lip juts out in the most precious pout. Who knew she could be so harmlessly manipulative?

“I don’t know, Ab. I think we have some chicken nuggets in the freezer at home, though,” you say, with an air of hopefulness that she might accept the compromise.

“Not the same,” she whines, “Please, Mommy! I’ll be extra extra good please–”

And with that, it’s over.

“Okay! Okay, fine,” you feign annoyance through a smile, “We’ll stop on the way home,”

You can still hear her squeals of excitement when you close the door and walk around to the driver's seat.

︵୨୧︵

Abbey dresses a little more cohesively for the open house than she did this morning. This time she’s clad in a thrifted pair of overalls overtop a little purple blouse. She leads you, hand in hand, inside the school like she knows exactly where she’s going– despite only having spent six hours here.

Steve’s classroom looks exactly how you’d expect. The walls are a light, mint green and it’s as if a character from Sesame Street threw up all over it. Abbey leads you to a reading nook in the corner of the room, surrounded by books and complete with several bean bag chairs, and proclaims this is her favorite spot. She shows you where her desk is– right in the very front of the classroom– and on it, a laminated sticker with her first and last name sits neatly near the top. The walls are lined with colorful letters in alphabetical order, accompanied with numbers just underneath them.

“Abbey!” you hear a familiar voice call, “I’m glad you and your mom could make it!” turning to you then, “I’m actually not sure I ever caught your name,” he chuckles awkwardly, clearly embarrassed by the fact that he doesn’t know it yet.

“Oh, it’s–” and before you get the chance to tell him, Abbey pipes up and tells him your first and last name with a confidence that she certainly didn’t have when it came to her own introduction this morning. You’re relieved that she feels so comfortable around him already.

He repeats your name back to you and holds out his hand for you to shake, “It’s nice to meet you,” You pay no mind to the way your heart beats a little faster in its cage at the sound of your name on his lips. His palm is surprisingly soft when you grasp it in your own.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” you grant him a polite smile, “Abbey could not stop talking about you on the way home,” you pinch her side, teasing, and she giggles in that contagious way that kids do.

“Is that so?” he feigns surprise when he looks at her.

“Nooo!” her giggles amplify as she becomes increasingly bashful.

He crouches down to meet her at eye-level, exactly like he did this morning, “Well, that’s a shame, because I think you might be one of my favorite students,”

Now, she’s a heap of laughter and has a blush spreading from the apple of her cheeks to the tips of her ears. You can’t help but feel enamored by how great he is with children, silently wondering if he comes from a big family, or if he has a child of his own.

“Did you introduce your mom to Nibbles?” he asks her when her laughing mostly subsides.

She gasps like she can’t believe she would’ve forgotten such a thing, then she hauls you by the arm over to a tiny cage on a table, presumably for an even tinier animal.

“Mommy, look! This is Nibbles,” She’s peering between the metal bars of the enclosure and encouraging you to do the same, when you lean in closer you see a small, tan gerbil sleeping in a little nest of bedding.

“He’s our friend and he helps us learn, so we have to be very careful with him,” she tells you with a sudden seriousness that's amusing to see displayed on such a young face. It’s obvious she’s parroting Steve.

You turn to see Steve observing from a few feet behind you, both hands shoved in his pockets, “I didn’t think teachers actually had class pets,” you breathe a huff of laughter.

“Oh, yeah,” he chuckles with you, “I brought him from home, actually. Figured he could use some socialization. With dozens of children.” he informs you sarcastically. God, he’s funny too.

“Wouldn’t have pegged you to be a hamster guy,” you tease.

“He’s a gerbil, first of all,”

“Right, sorry, my bad,” you smirk.

“No time for a dog, I guess,” he shrugs, “thought I could use the company,” he’s clearly still bantering, but there’s an underlying melancholy in his tone that you can’t quite place. Before you can think about it for longer than a second, an impatient five-year-old is tugging on your arm and begging to show you the library.

“Okay, alright,” you laugh, “better get to it, the library awaits,” you shoot him an apologetic look for having cut the conversation short. You feel less guilty, however, when you see more parents and children start to funnel into the classroom, busying him in yours and Abbey’s absence.

“See ya, “ he waves.

“Bye, Mr. Harrington!” Abbey yells, already halfway down the hall.

︵୨୧︵

In the library you have to shush Abbey several times, much to her dismay.

“We use our inside voices in the library, Ab,” you remind her for the fifth time. She frowns but it’s temporary when she spots her favorite section: the picture books. Abbey is ahead of a kindergarten reading level now, and it's one of her favorite hobbies, but you can still never go wrong with a good picture book.

You’re about to follow her when you hear someone call your name.

You turn, “Stephanie?” you ask, puzzled.

“Oh my gosh! It’s been forever!” an old friend from your shared high school, Stephanie, pulls you into an unreciprocated bear hug. Squeezing and swaying back and forth for an awkward amount of time.

“Hey,” you draw out the last syllable and try to paint your voice with a nostalgic excitement, “How have you been?” you ask, even though you’re sure you’d rather be shot than continue this conversation.

You don’t know if you could really call Stephanie a ‘friend’, or if you ever could. The only reason she even knew your name being the shared, piranha-esq social circle you both ran in years ago. She reminded you of your past– who you used to be– someone who you’re not particularly proud of.

“Oh, I've been just fine!” She gestures wildly with manicured nails. Her lips are overlined and her hair is still damaged from bleaching and too many perms. Evidently, not a lot has changed. You ponder if she’s still the mean girl she always was underneath all that makeup, or if at some point in your adolescence she decided to mature.

“Todd and I just bought a house over on Maplewood, are you familiar?”

“Oh, no, not really– my daughter and I live across town,” You don’t like how ashamed you feel, “I’ve heard it’s beautiful over there, though,” you attempt to smile but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

“That was your daughter?” She’s trying not to sound taken aback and failing, “With–?”

“Yes,” Your teeth grit ever so slightly. You hate that she won’t say his name, as if speaking it into existence would somehow break you. Like you’re fragile.

“I was terribly sorry to hear about what happened, Hon,” Her sudden sympathetic tone irritates you, whether it’s genuine or not. You don’t need pity, especially not from Stephanie Nettles.

“It’s okay, Steph, really,” losing patience by the second, nothing about it was okay. “It was a long time ago, Abbey and I are doing fine,” you assure her.

“Oh,” she fawns as she presses her bony hands against her chest above her heart, “Can I meet her? Would you mind?" Her tone is saccharine sweet. You figure it can’t hurt, but when you turn around to retrieve Abbey, she’s not where you left her. The spot on the rug that she was previously occupying is empty and her book is abandoned on the floor.

“Abbey?!” Calling a little too loudly for the setting you’re in but you can’t bring yourself to care. You search row after row, it’s not a big library, and after every shelf you’re expecting her to be there– browsing novels and you’ll feel silly for overreacting.

But that doesn’t happen, and you realize with mild panic that she definitely left the library; somehow without you noticing. You suppose this is the safest place for her to go missing, but the thought doesn’t soothe you for long as you still have no idea where your daughter could be.

Stephanie is staring at you with concern, but still making no effort to help you locate Abbey. You don’t speak and neither does she as you rush out of the room and begin to pace the halls, still calling out for her. You check the bathrooms by the gym, a couple of empty classrooms that aren’t locked– she’s not there either.

When you’ve checked every available room and potential hiding spot in the near vicinity and still see no trace of her, that’s when the real dread sets in. What if she’d wandered outside and been taken? Or worse, there had been an accident and she’s hurt? She could be miles from here by now, she could be–

“I think this might belong to you,” a mellow voice rings out.

Steve and Abbey walk leisurely towards you, hand in hand. A complete contrast to the frazzled mess of anxiety you are right now. You hurl yourself in their direction and wrap Abbey up in a hug, lifting her off her feet.

“Oh my God, Abbey,” normally you’d be fuming at her for wandering off like that when you know that she knows better, but you can’t feel anything other than relief in the moment.

“Found her on the swings,” Steve continues, “Isn’t that right?”

Your relief does eventually morph to frustration, “You know better, Abbey Jane. Don’t stray off like that again. Do you understand?”

She succumbs to her guilt and you can tell her short-lived freedom has lost its novelty. “I’m sorry, mommy,” her little eyes well with tears. “The other kids were going to the swings, I wanted to go,” she pouts.

“We could’ve gone, baby, but you have to ask first, okay?”

Her meek response is muffled in the crook of your neck, “Okay,”

She’s still sniffling into your shoulder when you remember Steve is there, and your surroundings come back into focus.

“Thank you for finding her, Steve–”

“--His name is Mr. Harrington, mom,” she corrects like she can’t believe you’d embarrass her like that by calling her teacher the wrong name.

“--Mr. Harrington,” you stifle a laugh for your daughter's sake, sending him a knowing look.

He returns the expression, “Anytime,” he smiles, sweet . “Think that's enough scaring your mom for today, huh?”

Instead of acknowledging with words, she simply nods her head, eyes glued to the floor, ashamed.

“I think someones getting sleepy, might be time to head home,” you drag a gentle hand down her back soothingly.

“Will you carry me?” she asks too adorably to say no, despite her being ever-so-slightly too big for it. Grunting as you pick her up, you say, “Thanks, again,”

“No need,” he ruffles Abbey’s head lightly as you pass, “See you tomorrow, right?”

“See you,” her eyelids are heavy already. You make your way back to the car slowly but surely, arms growing more numb with every step.

︵୨୧︵

Abbey manages to bargain a bath out of you and four books before bedtime instead of the usual two. How you ever say no to her, you’re not sure. By the time you finally tuck her in, it's well past nine o’clock.

“Did you have a good day today?” You ask as you bend down to kiss her forehead.

“Yes, Mr. Harrington is my favorite teacher,” she proclaims drowsily.

“He’s your only teacher, Ab,” You snicker.

“But he’s still my favorite,” she replies in the same cadence one would say ‘Duh’.

“Well, I guess you’ll have to go to sleep super fast tonight so you can see him sooner, right?”

You can practically see the lightbulb turn on above her head like she’s just had a groundbreaking revelation and nods fervently. You tuck her in tight on both sides, and give her a kiss on each of her cheeks and once more to her forehead for good measure.

“Love you, Abbey girl,” you tell her on your way out, “Goodnight,”

“Goodnight, mommy,” she says wearily from underneath her princess bedsheets.

The door closes with a soft click and you make your way to the living room. You never had the chance to ask Stephanie what she was doing at the school– from what you knew, she didn’t have any children. Perhaps she was a teacher. It didn’t matter as long as you didn’t have to interact with her again.

As you lounged on your old sectional, you couldn't help your mind wandering back to thoughts of Steve. You wanted to know more about him. Where he came from, what made him want to work with kids, why he needed a gerbil to keep him company. Distantly, you imagined what he was like outside of an elementary school setting. You hoped one day you’d find out.

He was Abbey’s teacher, sure, but what was the harm in a little crush?

taglist - @soulxiez

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anundyingfidelity · 8 months ago

Text

FREE PASS — Sam Winchester

Summary: Two men appear at your office to inspect a body from a lady who died under mysterious conditions. As a forensic, you are not letting strangers inside the morgue, but one of them is going too far to get your permission.

Pairing: Undercover!Sam Winchester x female reader.

Word count: 1.6k.

Warnings: smut, office sex, against the wall sex lol, sexual tension, p in v, unprotected sex, the dirty stuff, Dean being a dick (i love him he's a jerk).

GEN MASTERLIST!

taglist is here!

“I said no.”

“If you could just give a call to our boss he’ll–”

“Sorry, I need proper documentation so you can check that up,” you repeated yourself for the tenth time as you took some piles of documents from your desk to save them into the archive.

Dean, undercover along with Sam for this new case, sighed, trying not to lose it right there. You were so insistent on getting those damn documents signed before they could inspect the dead woman’s body, who got reported as having all her blood drained with no trace. Why wasn’t this working? They’ve done it hundreds of times already, and not even his personal charms were enough to let them get inside.

“So, my partner and I really need to see this. We know there’s another woman that died, same conditions, in less than twenty-four hours after this one was found,” Sam intervened and interrupted Dean’s thoughts.

You looked surprised as to why they knew about the other body as well.

“I don’t recall mentioning the next one they’re bringing in for an autopsy,” you replied, eyes falling on Sam as you crossed your arms on your chest.

Dean observed your gaze attentively falling on his brother, your demeanor seemed to change abruptly every time Sam talked. Even your voice sounded different.

“How do you know that?” you asked, ignoring Dean’s presence.

“We know because we’re authority,” Sam sternly said.

“Well, I am the authority here. So you can either leave or bring the document from your boss.”

“Of course, doctor,” Dean interrupted your stare contest, smiling as best as he could given the irritating feeling you just caused him. “We’re bringing that up soon, thank you for your time.”

With that, both of them left your office.

“Damn, she was annoying,” Dean said, saving up his badge on his jacket.

“Yeah, but I think I have an idea,” Sam agreed as they made their way to the car.

“So what? You’re gonna sleep with her until she agrees?” Dean chuckled, but when he noticed Sam’s eyes illuminating, he stopped grinning. “Oh…”

Sam went back to the morgue late at night. He hoped you were gone to inspect the bodies and get the reports, meanwhile Dean stayed back at the motel room to do some more research.

‘She’s a bitch’ Dean had said before his brother left, you really had hurted the charm in him. Sam found it kind of funny, though. Dean was so used to ladies swooning for him, and there were a couple of times those cheesy lines and non-chalant flirting had worked in tough times like this, but you weren’t buying it. So sneaking in was by far the best option he had.

Before starting the inspection on the bodies and making sure there was no one at the place, Sam made his way to your office to check on the autopsy files. The lights were still on but it was empty. He searched the last files, skimming and scanning information before taking pictures with his phone. He was almost done, saving them up in place when the door opened.

“Agent?”

God, he was so screwed.

Sam finished closing the drawer and turned back to get a look at you, standing at the door frame clearly mad at him.

“I hope you have the document I clearly asked for earlier today.”

“Uhm, this is very-”

“There’s nothing funny going on here, agent Harrison. Is that your real name anyway?” you asked as you approached him, until you were just mere inches away from each other.

He smiled as best as he could, ignoring your last question. Dean was right, you were a bitch. A bold one.

“You don’t understand, doctor. We can’t keep waiting for a piece of paper to make an inspection,” Sam replied as politely as he could.

“Probably, but it is protocol. I ain’t letting that slip away and risk my job just because two assholes are trying to hit on me to get access to the morgue.”

“We’re risking getting more people killed under this same pattern. Tell me, do you even care about them dying? We need to do something now, doctor, before it’s too late,” Sam started to raise his voice, but not to the point where he could sound angry. He was just being authoritative, exactly like you were with both of them before.

You flinched slightly when he raised his voice. He has started to think of the way you would react differently with him than with Dean. You clearly didn’t like his brother, but Sam was another story. Dean had obviously noticed that, and now Sam was seeing it too. Whatever you were feeling right now, could be cut by a sharp knife. Dean’s not so subtle idea was suddenly good, not that he didn’t think you were hot being all bossy and bitchy with them. He decided to give it a try.

Sam pulled you quickly for a desperate kiss. He swallowed a sweet moan of yours against his mouth, and towered you with his broad figure until you stepped back and you hit the cold wall behind you.

“What are you doing?” you asked between breaths when the kiss was over.

“Convincing you.”

He waited for an answer, but he got everything he needed to continue when you began to take off his jacket desperately, as if anyone could catch you inside the office in the middle of the night. Sam attacked your lips again, the kiss growing hot and wet as both explored your bodies, tracing patterns over your clothes you both were desiring to get rid of.

Sam barely could get your blouse unbuttoned and discharged your trousers after his shirt was gone. Your hand stroking his cock under his pants after unbuckling them, his lips sucking on the skin of your neck and long fingers finding your wet slit over your panties. You moaned, feeling one of his digits curling inside your walls, his breath hitching once your palm stroked him faster. You pulled him for a kiss, tangling your free hand on his long, soft hair as he grunted against your mouth. Both tasting each other’s sweet noises and savoring the heat building up in between.

He lifted you, your legs around his waist, feeling his hard cock pressing against your cunt. He just pulled your panties aside, bare chest pressing against your own still covered by your bra. He lined up with your entrance and you gasped, feeling the tip of his cock splitting you. He became so eager, so needy, he didn’t give a shit to undress you properly, he got what he needed between your legs. You looked so hot like this, squirming and moaning as he filled you up completely.

“God, you’re so big- oh, fuck!” you breathed out.

Sam grinned. “So fucking tight… And cockdrunk already.”

He slammed his hips and quickly found the perfect pace to fuck you right through it.

He held you tightly against the wall, your pussy taking him so perfectly he would just cum right there. The quietness of the office dissipated. Moans, grunts and the obscene noises of skin against skin filled the place. Your hand buried on his scalp, pulling his hair just a little, feeling embarrassedly close to your orgasm. You couldn’t help yourself. Ever since the moment they walked in, he caught your attention, and you spent the whole afternoon daydreaming of a good fuck either way.

Sam pounded harshly, hips stuttering and giving harsh thrusts as he felt his climax building up, his cock twitching when your walls began to spasm around his length, fucking you over and over, until he spilled inside you. Soon, you followed and came hard as his finger rubbed your clit slowly. You pulled his hair harshly once you reached heaven, and he nipped your neck, grunting on your skin. You milked him completely until his thrusts were slower, and eventually stopped, still buried balls deep inside your pussy, pulsing and sensitive from the best orgasm you had in a very long time.

You remained there, legs tangled around his waist as you softened on his arms. His hot cum dripped down your thighs, and you wanted nothing more than to stay there forever.

When Sam cooled down from his high, he pulled out and helped you remain on your feet, your legs were still wobbly and he took some pride in your state. You shared an accomplice stare, and you knew you got yourself into some trouble.

“So… you still need my reports and check the bodies, right?”

Sam slammed an envelope on the table with a thud. Dean, looking away from the laptop, noticed a proud smirk on his brother’s face.

“Really? You banged the forensic?” he asked with a teasing voice and laughed. “Wow.”

“What?” Sam said, getting annoyed by his childish behavior.

“I knew she was eye-fucking you since we entered that office. Guess I wasn’t her type,” Dean got on his feet, taking the envelope. “Anyway, that is a pretty reasonable answer as to why she was acting so hostile with me, specifically. Good job, Sammy.”

Dean patted Sam’s shoulder proudly, like a father congratulating his son for winning a high school baseball game, and then walked away to lie on his bed, taking out the copy of the reports.

Sam would’ve liked for Dean to actually ask questions about the case, instead he spent the next hour or so teasing him for fucking his way to get access to a morgue. He took out his phone when a text came, ignoring Dean’s disgusting question of how sex was.

We have a new one. What the hell is going on?

He might have found a new ally on you for this.

Sam Winchester taglist:

@onlyangel-444 @feyresqueen @drasticemotions @stoneyggirl2 @whothefvckami

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x female reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester smut #sam winchester imagines #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester fanfiction #sam x reader #supernatural

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munsonsmixtapes · 2 months ago

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I'm Not That Girl

Fiyero Tigelaar x shy!fem!reader

summary: you think Fiyero is only flirting you to be nice because you're not the kind of girl he usually goes for, but he's more than eager to set the record straight when confusion arises

This is based on a comment made on this post by @cultish-corner!

Nothing but anxiety courses through you the second you step foot on campus. You don’t know anyone and are nothing but nervous to be in a new place with new people. That’s your worst nightmare, you think, as you walk throughout the campus to the suite you were assigned, you can’t help but feel like everyone is staring at you, but absolutely no one is paying you any mind as you make your way down the hallway, repeatedly looking down at the sheet you’ve received to make sure you have the right room.

This is the first time you’ve ever been away from home for an extended period of time and you hate that you already miss it. But you’re excited for a new adventure. Even though you’re nervous, you’re still looking forward to what your time at Shiz will bring you. You’re looking forward to a change.

You’re so focused on looking at the sheet that you’re not even looking when you bump into something, or rather, someone. The collision causes your things to fall out of your hands and onto the floor, causing the stranger to drop to their knees, picking it all up rather quickly before holding your suitcase and papers out to you, a flirty smile on his pretty face that you only see out of the corner of your eyes because you’re afraid of making eye contact with him.

“Here,” he says, handing the paper to you, still holding onto your suitcase which confuses you.

“Oh,” you reply. “Thank you.”

He’s easily the prettiest man you’ve ever seen and you can’t help but be distracted by his striking blue eyes that definitely have a very flirty glint in them. You immediately recognize him as the prince you had seen in the newspaper not too long ago, seeing that he’d transferred here. You know all about his reputation, but that doesn’t stop you from wanting to speak to him. In fact, it makes you want to do it even more.

“It’s my pleasure. I am so sorry for my clumsiness,” he apologizes even though it was very obviously you who ran into him. “I guess I was just so distracted by your beauty.” You don’t care if it’s a line, it works, causing your cheeks to heat as you tuck your chin to your chest, not wanting him to see you.

“My apologies,” he sticks his hand out and takes free one, causing you to finally look up at him and you’re captivated by his pretty, blue eyes. “Fiyero Tiglaar, Winkie Country,” he says as his lips press a soft kiss to the top of your hand.

“I-I’m y/n,” you introduce yourself, your voice still too soft for your liking.

“Y/n,” he repeats your name slowly, a flirty tone to it and you just know that he does this with everyone he comes across, but you hope, you pray that this is different. You want him to be flirting with you because he thinks you’re pretty, not because he can. “I think that might be my favorite name of all.”

“Now, shall we?” He asks, moving to stand beside you, offering you his arm and you loop your own arm through it before he reaches over and grabs hold of your luggage.

“Where are we going?” You ask, your voice so low that Fiyero is almost unable to hear you.

“I’m going to walk you to your room,” he says with a bright smile, leading you down the hallway, everyone who’s around whispering as the two of you walk together. It’s no secret that he’s popular, how could he not be with his looks and charm? And seeing him with you, the shy, new girl will definitely stir up some rumors.

Your room is just down the hall and even though he’s only just met you, Fiyero doesn’t want to leave you. He wants you to invite him inside where the two of you sit on your bed and get to know each other. He wants to know everything about you. He wants to know where you grew up, what your hobbies are, whatever you want to tell him because he likes the sound of your voice.

“We’ll, here we are,” he says, hesitantly removing his arms from yours as you step away before taking your suitcase back from him. “It was a pleasure.” He bows then stands there, almost like he’s waiting for something.

“Here we are,” you repeat, wondering what it is that he’s wanting. He should at least be halfway down the hall by now.

“Tomorrow, you should sit with me in the dining hall. I’d really enjoy your company,” he smiles and you nod in response.

“I’d really like that,” you tell him, still nodding, feeling a warmth creep on your cheeks as you do so. You don’t know why you take him so seriously. Guys like him don’t ever give you so much as a second glance let alone a lunch invitation. By tomorrow, Fiyero will forget all about you.

The hallway is quiet and empty when you sneak out of your room. You can’t sleep because of how nervous you are for your first day of classes. Especially since it’s a few months into the year and you’re the only new person. Everyone else has gotten the chance to know each other and you’re new.

It’s taking everything in you not to pack up your stuff and leave so you don’t have to face anyone tomorrow. You don’t care if it’s dramatic or that you’re overreacting, it’s not like anyone will miss you anyway. You always seem to fade into the background no matter what’s going on and that’s the way you like it. You hate being the center of attention and know that it will distract you from your first day if everyone is staring at you.

You close the door gently and turn around slowly, letting out a yelp as you see Fiyero leaning against the wall across from you. He’s in his pajamas so you’re led to believe that he can’t sleep either. And he can’t, but not for the same reason as you. He’s just not tired and that’s not uncommon for him. He often has trouble sleeping. But tonight, he’s hoping you’ll keep him company so he doesn’t have to go back to bed alone.

He pushes off of the wall and steps over to you, moving slowly because he can see that he’s startled you. You take a step forward and he can’t help but stare at you, wondering what you’re also doing up so late.

“What are you doing up?” He asks, his eyebrows furrowing in both confusion and worry. He wants to reach for you, but he decides against it. If there’s going to be any touching, he wants you to be the one to initiate it.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you shake your head and he nods in understanding. His face softens and that infectious smile spreads across it. You can’t help but mimic him and that’s definitely something he could get used to seeing more often.

“Me neither,” he replies then offers his hand out to you. “Would you like to go somewhere with me?” Go somewhere with him? You look this way and that to make sure there’s no one else he could possibly be talking to and he just laughs in response, a little too loudly for your liking.

You step closer and press the palm of your hand to his lips to muffle his laughs and you both widen your eyes at your boldness. His eyes soften before yours do, more laughs spilling from his mouth as he pulls your hand away, holding it in his.

“You’re going to get us in trouble,” you whisper to him and his laughs slowly turn into chuckles as he gives your hand a squeeze.

“You need to relax,” he shakes his head. “And besides, trouble is my middle name.” You roll your eyes at his words and Fiyero really likes being able to more of your personality. “So,” he steps closer to you so that you’re toe to toe. “Are we going or what?”

You’re not sure why, but you’ve found yourself to be at ease with him. He’s one of the only people who hasn’t had any problem with how shy and soft-spoken you are. He even seems to like it, not minding in the slightest having to get closer to hear what you have to say. In fact, he seems to prefer it.

“Yes,” you nod. “Let’s go.”

“So you’re just going to blindly follow a man that you barely know to an unknown location where anything could happen to you?” He teases as he pulls you down the hallway and you never thought about it that way, and if it had been anyone else, maybe you would be worried, but not with Fiyero. “Well, y/n, I thought you knew better than that.”

“And the same goes to you, Tigelaar,” you retort. “I could just as easily be as dangerous.”

“Somehow, I just don’t think that’s true. You’re far too sweet.” You hate that he’s right. It wouldn’t even cross your mind to hurt someone unless they made the first move.

“You don’t even know me.” And he hates that he doesn’t. He hopes that in the coming weeks that you’ll be friends or maybe even more, but he knows the latter is probably just wishful thinking.

“And that’s exactly why I invited you to join me tonight. I want to get to know you. It’s also the reason why I invited you to eat with me in the dining hall.” You’re confused now. You thought he was just trying to be nice. And now you feel terrible for even thinking that he wasn’t being genuine.

“You were serious about that?” Fiyero is quick to turn around to face you, hurt flashing across his face. And seeing the pain expression on yours is making him feel even worse. He thought that his intentions were pretty clear, but apparently he had been wrong.

“O-of course I was serious. Why would I joke about that?” He’s leaning closer to you, taking your hands in his gently as he pulls you closer, wanting you to look him in the eyes when he speaks. “I invited you because I want to spend time with you, to get to know you. Don’t let anyone ever tell you any different,” he says as he pushes some hair away from your face.

“I know it sounds silly since we’ve only just met, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since this morning.” The look in his eye is nothing but genuine and now you feel silly for thinking that he was anything but.

“I thought it was just me,” you reply, your eyes lighting up.

“No,” he shakes his head, leaning even closer to you as his hands move to rest in your hips, his eyes searching your face for any sign of discomfort or hesitance. “Can I try something?” He asks in a whisper, his eyes shifting your lips and you think you know what he wants to try.

“Yes,” you reply as your eyes flutter shut, feeling his breath fanning your face as he leans down and presses his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. Your arms wrap around his neck as he pulls you closer to him, responding to his kiss as your lips slot between his, moving with them as best as you can.

Fiyero pulls away before you’re ready and pulls you a few feet before spinning you into him, pressing another kiss to your lips. He then takes you to the gardens where you spend the rest of the night, talking about everything and nothing between sweet kisses until the sun comes up. You think it’s needless to say that you’re really going to like it at Shiz.

#wicked #fiyero tigelaar #fiyero tigelaar x reader #fiyero x you #fiyero x reader #fiyero x y/n #fiyero x fem!reader #fiyero x shy!reader

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sinner-as-saint · 1 year ago

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stuck with you

Bucky x Reader au

Run-through: Alone, cold, and stranded in the middle of a small town on top of a mountain. Not the most ideal situation to be in when the weather starts getting bad. No motels or inns have room for you so the locals suggest you reach out to a man named Bucky Barnes for shelter. Apparently, Bucky is known to always help stranded people, or lost hikers. No matter how weird it feels to drive up to a stranger’s house and ask for help, you have on other choice but to do just that. The plan was simple: stay with the strange, kind man for a couple of days until the snowstorm passes. But then you meet him and you find yourself unable to stick to the plan.

Themes: age gap (reader is in her twenties, Bucky is in his early forties), strangers-to-lovers ish, smut, slight degrading kink, fluff

It felt like the start of a horror movie.

Unknown town, unknown people. You cursed yourself as you walked out of yet another motel who had no room left for you.

What the hell were you thinking? After uni, you thought travelling the world on your own would help you with learning the right lessons, having the right experiences, and all that before you joined the family business and began working with your parents for the rest of your life.

Instead of having fun though, here you were. Stuck on top of an icy mountain, in a small town, and nowhere to sleep for the night. With the snowstorm approaching, you had to find shelter quickly. But none of these motels or inns were free. Every hiker, skier, and tourist had already booked ahead of you apparently.

“Uh, miss?” A voice called from behind you right as you were about to step outside into the cold evening.

You turned to look and it was the owner of the motel. The same man who had just turned you down because he had no space left to accommodate you. He looked apologetic as he approached you.

“Hi.” You said, then patted your pockets quickly, “Did I forget anything on the counter?”

“No.” The man smiled and shook his head. “Look, I’m sorry you can’t stay. But snowstorms in this area can be dangerous and deadly, and you wouldn’t survive the night if you slept in your car.” He pointed at the rented jeep you had parked right outside the motel. “But there’s a man who can help. His name’s Bucky. Bucky Barnes. He often helps out stranded hikers and stuff, and I already called him and asked if he had room and he said yes.”

The motel owner proceeded to give you details about Bucky and how to get to his house. From what you’d just learnt, Bucky Barnes was a business mogul who preferred seclusion. He was wealthy, and lived alone in his luxurious cabin that, rumour has it, he built himself. He was in his early forties and had people running his businesses for him all over the world. He moved to this small town after living in lavish cities his entire life. He owned acres upon acres of land, so he was also the local lumberjack and spent his time manually taking down trees whenever anyone needed wood.

“Don’t worry, miss,” The motel owner reassured you, with a kind smile. “Mr. Barnes is a nice guy. Everyone around here knows him. Just follow the directions I gave you and you’ll find his house not too far from here. It’s a wooden behemoth right on the edge of the forest.”

When you got back in your car, the first thing you did was google the man really quickly. And the headlines, as you scrolled and read them, made your eyes widen a little each time. They were all basically just about what the motel owner already told you. But you needed to make sure it was all real.

It was. Bucky Barnes was indeed a filthy rich business mogul who chose to come live all the way up here to get away from busy cities and journalists who always followed him around for quotes to put into their articles.

And then, you began searching for pictures of this man. Your heart skipped a beat upon finding them. Pictures of him at fancy dinner parties, galas, charity events. Pictures of him shaking hands and clinking glasses with famous faces. Pictures of him on business magazine covers.

Pretty blue eyes, handsome face, and a kind smile. You noted the crinkles by his eyes whenever he smiled or laughed in pictures. Whenever he was photographed with a group of people, everyone seemed charmed by him. He seemed tall too. Oh well, safe to say the man was drop dead gorgeous.

What if he was a serial killer and the people in this town directed victims to his house like he was some kind of twisted leader of this town?

You cringed at the exaggerated thought, shaking your head.

Usually you weren’t one to trust strangers quickly but it was getting darker, the wind was beginning to howl and the cold was making you shiver even beneath all the layers you were wearing. The snowstorm was expected to last at least three days, so it was either trust a stranger for a few days or die.

—

You stopped your car in front of what the motel owner called a ‘wooden behemoth right on the edge of the forest’. And he was right.

The luxurious log home was situated higher up on the mountain, looking over the small town. Surrounded by towering trees, mainly pine, and the area around the house was foggier than the rest of the town. It would’ve seemed eerie if it weren’t for the warm, golden lights coming from inside the house.

The house was indeed massive, with intricate carvings on the huge front doors. The roof was covered with dark, polished slate, and what gave the home a more contemporary touch were the large, floor-to-ceiling windows. It looked like the perfect place for someone who sought seclusion and comfort.

Or a murderer, your brain added. You hissed at the thought, shoving it away as you got out of your jeep. It was beginning to drizzle, the wind howling louder than earlier. You walked up the front porch and knocked on the large doors.

Before you could check out the porch, you heard loud footsteps approaching. Then, the front door opened. And on the other side stood a handsome man, slightly different from how he looked in the photographs you’d found online, but just as gorgeous. Well, the photographs were all taken from years ago so it made sense that he looked different. Bucky Barnes hadn’t been photographed ever since he moved here, according to the articles, and it was a shame because he was truly a work of art.

“Hey,” He said with a deep, confident voice. “You must be the girl I just received a call about from the motel.” He opened the door wider. And for a couple of seconds, you didn’t move.

You were frozen in place. He was… too pretty. That same handsome face as in the photographs, except he had more facial hair now. And longer hair. So long in fact that he had to put it all up in a messy bun on top of his head. A few strands escaped the bun and fell on either side of his face, making him look beautiful in a rugged way.

You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander for just a second. He was just as tall as you imagine, but slightly more muscular than he seemed in the pictures. The white t-shirt he was wearing clung to him like a second skin, the jeans clung to his thighs in a way that should be illegal.

You quickly looked up and cleared your throat before you got caught ogling. “Um, hi Mr. Barnes. I’m sorry for–,”

He cut you off politely, “There’s no need to apologise,” He signalled for you to come in. And as you walked into his home he said, “And please, call me Bucky.”

You smiled at him as you stood near the entrance, waiting for him to shut the door. When he turned to you, he asked for your name and asked what you were doing here. While you answered, he led you further into the magnificent house.

If you thought it was beautiful from the outside, the interior was absolutely breathtaking. Spacious, with high ceilings. Most things inside were wooden, except for the rugs and the plush sofas. It was an open concept, and you could see the more farm-style kitchen from the living room area and it was just as pretty as the rest of the house. The more you looked around, the more you fell in love with the interior. Elegant curved staircase which led upstairs, massive fireplace, accents of stone and metals everywhere. It looked like a lot of thought went into building this home.

“This looks like a dream.” You commented, standing in the middle of the living room and taking it all in. The owner looks like a dream too. You sighed at the sound of your inner thoughts. It was true.

Bucky smiled, looking proud. “It took some years to build but…” He sighed, “It’s worth it.”

You smiled at him, noticing the crinkles by his eyes as he smiled. Fuck, this man was beautiful.

“Give me your keys, I’ll bring your bags in, then I can show you to your room.” He extended his hand out, waiting for you to drop your keys into his palm.

“Oh.” Your face got all hot when you realised you’d just walked into his home empty handed. You’d forgotten your bags in the jeep. “I can go get it, it’s–,”

“No, I’ll get it,” He cut you off again, stepped closer and took the keys from your hand. “It’s getting bad out there.” Then he walked away.

And you shamelessly watched him leave. His back muscles moved and shifted under the tight shirt as he walked and you felt a shiver travel down your spine. Think about how those warm, hard muscles would feel under your fingertips…

Shit. This man was being kind to you and here you were being a pervert.

–

Bucky brought your bags in, all four of them. Carried them through the front door like they weren’t heavy at all. Well, he cuts down trees for fun so maybe he’s used to carrying heavier things.

He showed you to one of the many guest bedrooms he had. And the room was just as beautiful and perfect as the rest of the home. King-sized bed, large chest drawer, private bathroom which was fully stocked with toiletries. Large windows, and a small balcony which overlooked the dense forest outside.

“Well then, I’ll leave you to unpack and make yourself comfortable. Dinner will be ready in an hour or so. See you downstairs.” He left with yet another smile which made your heart skip a beat.

–

You found yourself making your way downstairs after a long, warm shower. You wanted to unpack after your shower but then the smell of dinner cooking forced you out of the room. You followed the delicious scent of what seemed like pasta sauce, sniffing the air quietly until you made your way into the gorgeous kitchen. With an even more gorgeous man in it.

“There you are,” Bucky smiled at you as you approached the large kitchen island which was also the dining table. “Everything okay with your room?” He asked, stirring some kind of sauce in a pan before resuming chopping some other thing. He looked so comfortable in his kitchen, it was endearing.

“Yeah, everything’s good.” You answered, lingering by the kitchen counter awkwardly, “You need help with something?”

“Sure, if you want.” Bucky nodded and pointed at the other side of the kitchen with his knife, and said, “Can you be a doll and grab us a red wine from the cellar?”

You froze for a quick second at the sound of ‘doll’. It was sweet, but the way it sounded from his deep, smooth voice… you cleared your throat again before your thoughts got inappropriate, turning around and heading for the cellar because of course he had a wine cellar.

After grabbing what you hoped was a nice wine, you made your way back to the kitchen and found Bucky plating pasta into two plates. He had a slight frown on his face as he focused on the plates. If there was anything you had noticed about Bucky it was that he was very detail oriented.

Bucky’s frown disappeared the moment he looked up from the plates and saw you standing there. “Hope you like pasta and cheese.” He winked with a maddeningly handsome smile.

“I do.” You smiled back, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach as you handed him the wax sealed bottle of wine. For a brief moment, his hand brushed against yours and you could’ve sworn it felt like you’d been electrocuted.

A strange shiver danced down your spine as you took a seat at the table and watched Bucky break the seal, uncork the bottle and pour it into two glasses before pouring the rest into a large decanter.

All that wood chopping did him good. The man was muscular in all the right places. But his hands… oh his hands. Large, veiny. Imagine those hands all over–

“So, tell me about yourself.” He said, taking a seat across from you. “And what are you doing on this icy mountain?”

The conversation flowed perfectly. You told Bucky about how you were travelling to all the places you wanted to see before you moved back home, and he told you all about his life here. He said he liked the peace and quiet. Even the snowstorms, he grew to love them.

By the time your plates and the decanter were empty, the two of you were laughing and exchanging life stories like you were old friends catching up.

“So wait,” You chuckled, “You built this entire place out of spite?”

Bucky nodded, laughing as well. “Well, I guess. My friend Sam came to visit when I told him I bought some land out here and he said ‘Well what are you gonna do here, Buck? You can’t just build a house in the middle of nowhere and become a lumberjack providing wood to the locals.’ and I thought, ‘Wait, that’s not a bad idea’, then I did exactly what Sam said.”

You laughed, the wine made everything funnier. Bucky’s cheeks were now pink, his lips stained due to the wine and you couldn’t look away from him. Fuck, he really was gorgeous. He must have changed before dinner because he was no longer wearing that tight white shirt. He was wearing loose, beige coloured loungewear and looked just as mouth-watering. His hair was just as messy, but made him look effortlessly handsome.

You eye-fucked him so more before realising that he was checking you out too, and neither of you had said a word for the past minute or two. But it wasn’t awkward. His blue eyes stared into yours and you were suddenly too aware of the thick tension in the air.

The way he licked his lips, the way he toyed with the stem of his wine glass, the way his hand–

Bucky cleared his throat and looked away first. You tried to blink away the tension too but it remained. Then Bucky asked, “So, you have a boyfriend or something waiting for you at home?” He gave you a playful smirk.

Oh?

You shook your head, “Nope. What about you? You came all the way here to live in seclusion, are you running from an ex or something?”

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. “No, nothing like that.”

That tension came back again, filling the air like smoke. You couldn’t ignore it. Neither could he, given how he fidgeted in his seat.

This is wrong. Isn’t it?

He was being kind enough to offer you shelter and you were being inappropriate. So before you did something you might regret, you said, “It’s late. I should head to bed. I drove all day and…” You trailed off, looking away and avoiding his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah of course.” He said quickly, getting up from his seat. He went to reach for your plate but you grabbed it first.

“Oh I’ll load up the dishwasher, don’t worry.” You moved before he could stop you, grabbing your plate and then his. Then the wine glasses and everything else.

You could feel Bucky’s eyes on you as you carefully arranged everything in the rack before turning it on. You washed your hands, and wiped it on a tea towel while turning to leave but Bucky’s heated stare stopped you.

There he was, leaning against the kitchen island and looking even more yummy than the dinner he made. You were glad you had the tea towel in your hands otherwise you wouldn’t know what to do.

Luckily Bucky spoke up first, “If I had known you were coming I would’ve made dessert.”

Such a simple sentence yet it sounded like he’d whispered some dirty, filthy secret in your ear the way your body came alive. You refrained from clenching your thighs together. His voice was lower, deeper but just as smooth and it was driving you crazy just imagining how this man must sound in bed.

And now you were jealous of all the people who had had the chance of hearing what he sounded like, moaning and grunting, whispering out of breath… fuck.

“Uh…” You struggled to find your words, now that the image of him naked in bed wouldn’t leave your head, “That’s alright. I don’t have much of a sweet tooth anyway.”

You didn’t know when you moved, but you found yourself standing closer to Bucky now. He turned to face you completely and there were mere inches between your bodies. You felt… hot. Maybe it was the wine, but you were almost certain it was because of the way Bucky looked at you. Like he’d devour you if he could. You had sensed tension between you and other people before, but it had never been this strong.

“Shame,” He muttered under his breath, his hand coming up to gently touch your face. “I happen to like something sweet before bed.” His voice dropped to a whisper.

All you could focus on was the way he was touching your face. Gently, like you were made of glass. His hand was warm, but rough. You let out a shaky breath as you wondered how his rough hands would feel all over you–

“Go to bed.” He said in a voice that made you tingle all over. He didn’t let go of your face. His thumb caressing your cheek, and his eyes staring into your soul.

You blinked, wondering if you misheard. “What?” You asked softly, leaning into his touch subtly, obviously not wanting to move.

“Go to bed, doll.” He repeated, still not letting go of your face.

You frowned slightly, “But–,”

He cut you off by placing a gentle finger over your lips. His eyes couldn’t look away from where his finger touched your mouth. He leaned in a little, then said, “We shouldn’t.”

“Why not?” You asked, lips brushing against his finger as you spoke.

He gave you a soft smile and said, “I should be a good host, not seduce you.”

You shrugged, “Well I’m nice and seduced, now what do we do?”

He chuckled, leaning in until his nose brushed against the side of your neck. His simple touches were driving you crazy.

“You know what happens when there’s a snowstorm in this town, doll? It lasts for days,” He whispered, lazily kissing your neck. “And by the time that’s over, the roads are completely blocked. And this is a small town so it takes a while before the roads are functional again.”

Your heart fluttered, your body felt too hot and yet you shivered. You gently pulled away to look at him. “So you’re saying I’m stuck with you here for days?” You couldn’t help the smirk on your face.

He caught the hopeful tone in your voice. Bucky nodded. “And if I touch you right now,” He whispered, cupping your face in his large, rough hands, “I’m not sure I’ll let you leave my bed at all for the next coming days.”

It was risky because as beautiful as he was, you didn’t know Bucky. But you had never wanted someone this much before. This felt like a new kind of longing and need. You didn’t care what was right, ethical, or risky. “Then don’t.”

That did it.

Bucky stopped thinking why he shouldn’t and instead pressed his lips to yours, kissing you like he was tasting his favourite dessert. His tongue easing your own as he tasted you leisurely. “We’re sure about this?” He asked, breathlessly.

“Yes,” You whispered against his mouth, gasping as his hands trailed up and down your body, sliding under your sweater and fondling your breasts. “We are.”

Bucky smiled into the kiss, then spoke again. “Aren’t I too old for you, doll?”

You chuckled, your own hands wandering and sliding up and down his muscular back. You wanted nothing more than to just take off that comfy hoodie he was wearing. “Oh, what’s a decade or two?” You murmured.

Bucky’s hands dropped down to your waist, caressing your skin, fingers threatening to slip past the waistband of your sweatpants. You had to bite your lip to keep yourself from moaning too loudly. The storm was picking up outside and it would surely drown out all your cries, not that there were any neighbours to hear to begin with.

“Will you be good for me?” He whispered, kissing down your face as his fingers slowly dipped into your sweatpants. One hand held you at the waist while the other inched dangerously close to where you craved him the most.

His touch, his words, it was all too much. “I’ll be good,” You replied, your hands sliding under his hoodie to finally touch him, exploring and curious. His body was incredible to the touch, hard muscles and warm skin.

He finally slipped his hand into your underwear, hissing as he found you dripping wet. He chuckled against your skin as he kissed and licked your throat, “How long have you been this wet, doll?” He asked, sounding cocky.

You gasped when you felt him sliding a finger inside you, gently. “Since you opened the front door.” You answered honestly.

Bucky laughed, his warm breath tickling your ear. “That long, huh? I’m sorry.” He cooed, “Let me take care of it for you.”

You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your mouth when you felt him slide another finger inside you, fucking you slowly with both now. Bucky kissed your neck, your face, your mouth. Licking and biting your skin as he pleased while he finger-fucked you until you were right on the edge.

“Get up here.” He murmured, pulling his fingers and hand away and pointed at the kitchen island.

You didn’t move immediately. Probably because your brain was all foggy from his kisses and his touch that it took a second for you to register and process his words.

Bucky smirked and repeated. “Come on. Take your clothes off and get up here.”

You did as he asked. Taking off your sweater and sweatpants, followed by your underwear and revealing your bare body. Bucky took a second, letting his fingers trail up and down your stomach and chest before he pointed at the island again.

“Up.”

You hopped on the edge with a giggle, hissing upon feeling the cold surface against your warm skin. Once sat on the edge, you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer. Bucky smiled as he placed his hands on you again, your arms wrapping around his neck as you stared into his ocean blue eyes.

“Such a pretty doll,” He whispered, placing his hands on your thighs and spreading them further apart. He looked down at your wet folds, mindlessly dragging a finger up and down your slit, making you shiver all over again. “Now, lie down.” He said.

You wasted no time. You unwrapped your arms from around him and carefully laid down flat on your back, hissing at the cold again.

Bucky’s eyes trailed up and down your body, his hands caressing your skin. From your thighs, to your hips, to your breasts where he pinched your nipples, making you cry out again.

“Can I taste you, doll?” He asked, pulling your legs up to the edge and spreading your thighs as far apart as they would go. The island was high enough where he only had to bend down for his mouth to touch your heated skin. Lips brushing against your lower abdomen, he asked again, “Can I?”

Your brain was a mess. Yet you managed to mumble a firm, “Yes…”

With his mouth mere inches away from your throbbing clit, he said, “Keep your legs up just like that for me, okay?”

You nodded, looking down in between your legs as he leaned in and pressed his mouth against your wetness. He looked up immediately, holding your stare as he slid his tongue against, the roughness of his beard against your softness was driving you insane.

You held yourself up on your elbows as you watched him eat you out. The warmth of his mouth, the slow caress of his hands against your inner thighs, the intense look in his eyes as he tasted you. It made you feel like you were floating.

It was too much, it was not enough. You wanted him, you wanted more.

“You taste sweeter than any dessert, doll.” He whispered, kissing around your wet clit before sucking on it hard enough to make you come, your back arched off the surface, riding his face as you cried out in pleasure. “But it’s not enough.” He admitted, pulling away and kissing his way up your body. “Is it?”

You barely caught your breath, your heart racing as you laid there in front of him.

“Get down, and bend over for me.” He spoke in that enchanting voice of his which put you under his spell so easily.

You moved immediately this time. He was still fully dressed and you didn’t have a single article of clothing on and somehow that made you feel hotter.

You bent over the island in front of him, your front pressed against the edge. You placed your hands down and turned to look at him over your shoulder. You watched how he grabbed your hips and spread your legs, leaning closer to kiss up your spine.

“So beautiful,” He whispered against the back of your neck. “Now, are you gonna let me fuck you? Hmm? Are you gonna let me put both of us out of our misery, doll?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

He pulled his hands away from you for a moment, lowering his trousers enough to free his cock. You wished you could see it properly. You wished you could kneel down in front of him and take him into your mouth and–

You gasped out loud when you felt the tip of his hard, warm cock pressing against you. Nothing mattered in that moment, not when he was gently rubbing his cock up and down your wet slit, parting your folds.

You squirmed against the hard surface under you, pushing back into him in need. “Please…” You whispered, desperate for him. You had never been this needy for a man before.

You braced yourself for his thrust, knowing it was coming.

Slowly, Bucky slid inside you, filling you up and stretching you out as he did. He let out a sigh of pleasure once he was seated deep inside you, gripping on your hips tightly as he gave you both a moment to get used to it.

You felt so full, like you’ve never been before. So full, you could barely form a coherent thought. All you knew was you wanted more.

You let out a quiet moan as he started fucking you gently.

“You feel so fucking good,” He hissed, “So warm and tight for me.” Bucky whispered, fucking into you with a pace that made you want to scream and shout because it felt so good.

Each time he filled you up, the tip of his cock brushed against your most sensitive spot and you moaned as your walls clenched around him.

“Poor little doll,” He cooed, “This will be your new routine for the next few days now. Just getting fucked, and caressed all the time while the storm rages on outside.”

His thrusts got harder. Your moans got louder. His words made you clench around him even more.

“Look at you,” He growled. “Pretty girl letting a older man she barely knows fuck her like she’s a needy little whore.” His voice was deeper, and as menacing as his words were his touch was just as soft and careful. His fingers circled your clit gently while he pounded into you from behind. “Would you bend over for any man, doll? Hmm? Whoever offered you shelter from the storm, is this how you’d repay him? By letting him fuck your needy little cunt?”

You couldn’t help but cry out, moaning in pleasure as his words took you higher. You did have a little bit of a degrading kink, who didn’t? But never had anyone ever hit the spot like Bucky did. And given how your wetness dripped down his fingers, he could tell.

Bucky chuckled darkly. “Does that turn you on, doll? Knowing that I can selfishly take from you now that you’re stuck here with me?” His other hand came up to grab you by the back of your neck as he whispered into your ear, fucking into you hard enough that your body slammed into the kitchen island with each thrust. “Does it turn you on knowing you’ll have to be my little slut for the next few days? That you’ll have to spread those legs for me and let me fuck you whenever I want to?”

“Yes…” You whimpered as he pounded deeper into you. You didn’t want him to stop. Ever.

He hissed into your ear, “Is that what you are now? My little slut?” He chuckled, rolling his hips in a way that had you whimpering and squirming in pleasure beneath him. “Well, what a perfect way of repaying me for my kindness, hmm?”

“Please, Bucky…” You whimpered.

Bucky hummed, kissing your warm skin, “I know, pretty girl. I know, it feels good, doesn’t it?”

His words made you feel feverish, and wild. Lust-drunk more than ever. You moaned as he sped up again, a familiar warmth taking over you, and a pressure building in between your hips.

You whined, “I’m gonna come.” You cried, and you were pretty sure you had tears streaming down your face.

“Come for me, then. Come all over my cock, doll.”

Your brain was a foggy mess after that. You came hard though, clenching around him violently as you did.

“Fuck… look at you,” He whispered, his cock pounding harder into you until he came as well, spilling all over your lower back as he panted in exhaustion. “You okay, doll?”

You nodded slowly, pressing your forehead down against the cool surface and catching your breath.

“Come on,” His voice was softer now as he pulled you up and held you against him. Your back to his chest as he wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling your neck and leaving soft kisses all over your neck and the side of your face. “Let’s get you in bed, yeah?”

You asked in a shaky voice, “And then can we fuck again?”

Bucky chuckled, hugging you tightly before saying, “Yes we can, pretty girl.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine

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prael · 6 months ago

Text

Not Quite Home

Kinktember Day 15: Stand & Carry

Kepler Youngeun x male reader smut

words: 1,495 Kinktember Masterlist

She is everything you're not. Everything you hate. How can someone refuse to have a place to call home?

All this about being a free spirit and experiencing everything that the world has to offer all sounds well and good but how is a tree supposed to grow if it has no roots? But Youngeun insists that is exactly what she is after, the constant thrill, the constant novelty, the rush and urgency. In every interaction, she seems to have been in search of the next big adventure.

And you think you do her a disservice by not understanding.

Perhaps if you had met each other under other circumstances, things might have gone better for the two of you. But now, you resent how she feels like a stranger whenever you're together. She once brought an element of excitement and risk to a routine, drab life, but that grew exhausting and more than once made you feel like you were suffocating. You grew to loathe her carelessness.

"Your parents?" You ask as she stands in your bedroom for the third night in a row, "Have you even told them you're back in town?"

She shakes her head in lieu of an answer, "You know how they are."

"You're going to blame them for wanting their daughter to visit for once?"

Youngeun laughs. It's one of your least favourite traits—her incapability to take anything seriously. "Not your business. Besides, seven nights, remember?"

Yes. Seven nights. This is what she told you, another expiry date on another chapter of whatever the fuck this is between you. Another unspoken contract was signed for the hell of it. A time limit, for something that isn't even real.

"Just think about it," you continue, hopelessly, "talking with your family. It'll clear your mind."

"Know what clears my mind? The wind in my hair, sun on my skin, music in my ears," Youngeun runs her hand through her silky hair, "Landing in some new town, finding a new local hang out to try something exotic and then exploring whatever is hidden in that town's history, picking up a new person, hooking up with them, letting the excitement course through my veins, knowing there's always something else waiting on the horizon."

Another insufferable thing that she does. It's been maybe fifteen minutes since you tangled limbs in the bed and now she's standing across the room naked making no secret of the fact that she picks up guys and girls wherever she goes. Youngeun looks down at you on the mattress and runs her eyes up and down your body, her fingers resting lightly over her collarbone.

You follow the line of her fingers, nails cut short with traces of peeled black nail paint. A callus on her finger is a reminder of how often she played the guitar. She runs them down her chest, thumb catching a nipple in the process of doing so.

"Look at you. You get hotter every time I come back." And just like that, Youngeun drops a compliment, casual and effortless and you question who's benefiting from this relationship because it clearly isn't you.

You're gonna fuck her again tonight. Tomorrow too, and another three nights after that. After which she'll be gone for another six months to a year. There's a weird emotional emptiness to this routine—you give and she takes and this is all she asks.

"Come here, will you? Pin me to this wall already. Make me feel you." Her hand cups her breast and another traces its way down her abs, a clear intention.

You should hate her, really. Like how you hate the idea that she left home for no reason or how she wasted her potential, hate her for her indifference, for her recklessness and her cold detachment, or hate the fact that it's just meaningless sex.

She doesn't like strings, it makes no sense to her how people commit. If she was the type of person who asked to be understood, you would probably try to, but that's never something she ever expressed.

For all of that, you don't hate her. It's why you're still walking towards her and she's backing up into the wall.

So, what does she ask for? Her answer is pleasure and pain.

She kisses like a raging fire. Everywhere her hands roam leaves marks on your skin; she scratches deep in your back as you hook her thigh up around your waist. A hand between her legs, sliding in without any sort of preamble. She's still dripping wet, though some of that may well be your last load. She tastes of salty, sweaty sex and you relish it. She kisses and she gasps as your fingers work at her entrance; crooking them upward so you can press them into her and rub right against the sensitive spot inside her.

Her tongue slides past yours, hot and wet as she grinds up into your hand, claws digging into your lower back. Your hand fucks into her roughly with reckless abandon and her breathing gets shallow as your fingers bring her closer and closer.

It doesn't take long, she's close, you know that when she throws her head back against the wall. "Stop—wait, fuck—wait," Youngeun barely gasps and then with your name in her throat, the friction of your fingers sends her over the edge. A moan escapes as her mouth falls open, eyes clamp shut as you finger her to orgasm.

It's always been easy to make Youngeun cum, but it never loses its magic. There's something particularly thrilling to the way she moans your name in that honey-laced rasp, to the way her entire body arches upwards as the pleasure mounts. A sharp gasp cuts the air.

Her limbs slacken. She leans her head against the wall. She's struggling to catch her breath.

And this is the fucking problem. For every reason to hate her, there are so many more reasons to enjoy her.

That's when you lift her, hooking up the other thigh and holding her by her tight little ass. Youngeun hisses and she's staring daggers and that's always a part of the fun. She'll give you these looks that could kill a lesser man, but you know the only solution is to pound her into submission.

"Be rough with me. Hard," Youngeun pants, sucking air in, breath ragged. Her skin's hot to the touch.

"Like last time?" Your voice comes low, thick and gruff as you hook her legs higher.

"No, harder, faster," Youngeun replies between rapid, short breaths, she grips your arms, rolls her hips and wraps her body tighter around you, "Want me to stay? Fuck me until I can't walk out."

You're incensed and sliding your length over her slick, warm, inviting heat, before slamming her back into the wall, entering her in one long hard motion and enjoying the way her lips fall apart; enjoying the way her hot and messy, fucked-out body arches upward as you hit deeper and the way her cries pitch. You don't even wait for her to catch her breath before snapping your hips over and over and giving Youngeun exactly the type of pounding that she wants.

There's a sharp gasp. A second of silence and then a choked-back scream. You feel a palm on the nape of your neck and a sting on your shoulders as her nails dig deep and scratch. She rakes them over the broad expanse of your upper back and it fucking hurts. It fucking stings and it's delicious. You bury yourself deep inside her, stretch and fuck her all open on your dick.

"Like that. Yes! Like that! Fucking ruin me."

"Since you asked so nicely."

Her moans become a struggle now that you've run a hand roughly up her body and planted it around her neck. Squeezing, not too hard, not to cut her airflow, not to bruise, but firmly enough that she will feel it and feel that she is being held. She loves to feel hopeless. And there, that's what you like: her hot, sweaty body locked between you and the wall and helpless against you as you sink into her.

And as much as she says it doesn't mean anything. Youngeun cries out your name like it means something.

The ever-familiar suffocating grip of her wet cunt grips you as she cums again. Bodies flushed together, grinding and sweaty.

"I can't breathe—" Youngeun whimpers in that cracked, vulnerable and submissive way and you snarl. Fuck her up as promised. Hurt her like she begs for. And Youngeun loves it like nothing else, absolutely nothing, her eyes rolling to the back of her head and a strangled groan as you reach another climax and fill up her pussy again. You pound yet another load into her tight hole.

As much as she would hate to ever admit it, this is as close to a home as she has in her life.

#kinktember #kpop smut #youngeun smut #kepler smut #kpop fanfic #male reader #m reader #smut #youngeun x reader #standandcarry #kep1er smut

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neiptune · 4 months ago

Text

this town is fake but you're the real thing

cw: 11k wc, female reader, social media relationship, suna downloads an app that randomly matches anonymous users with each other because osamu thinks it'll help him open up more, strangers to lovers, romance, pining, so much texting, suna is as emotionally constipated as it gets

Against all expectations, it’s Osamu who managed to get under his skin.

An innocent night out to celebrate the new Onigiri Miya branch in Shizuoka, a few beers shared on a bench by the port, what started as innocent conversation about each other’s dating life soon turning into a painfully precise evaluation of why he can’t seem to find someone worth keeping around.

“You don’t really open up to them”, his friend shrugged.

“I open up to them plenty. I’ve been with Yuki for three months”, Suna refuted such harsh remark with a scowl.

“Yeah”, Samu mused, “have you ever shared anything about your friends and family? What’s the most vulnerable thought or feeling you discussed?”.

Rintaro took a moment to reflect, begrudging silence weighing more each second spent quiet.

“She met Motoya”.

Osamu rolled his eyes, “Shit, you’re right— can’t believe ya didn’t propose. Meeting Komori’s the real deal”.

“You know, if I wanted to hang out with the twin who’d be a pain in my ass, I would’ve called your brother”.

With a snort and a handsome grin, Osamu lightly bumped his shoulder against Suna’s. “Ya love us”, then his gaze softened as he took a swig from the bottle, “I’m just sayin’. Maybe a relationship is not what you need right now”.

“Then what do I need?”, despite a fiery remonstrance, Rintaro found himself leaning onto Osamu’s judgement. He’d always been very good at reading people, much like his brother, but Samu’s approach was always balanced and, most importantly, sincere. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps there was something he’s missing about himself, something that shined bright for his best friend to catch instead.

“A connection, dumbass”, Osamu lightly pat his shoulder, “it doesn’t have to be romantic. It definitely doesn’t have to be sexual. You need to find someone you can talk to”.

“I talk—”

“Someone who isn’t us. Not me, not ‘Tsumu”, he ignored Rintaro’s indignant scoff, “not Shinsuke, not Aran. You need to get out of your comfort zone with someone new. A stranger!”.

“A stranger? You want me to stop someone on the street and casually ask them to listen to whatever trauma is tied to my fear of flying?”.

“Start small”, Osamu’s eyes glinted with the excitement that a good idea usually brings, “try that app Bokuto was trying so hard to get Sakusa to download. Matchpal, was it?”.

“Sounds like a great way to have a fifty year old creep flash me with a dick pic. No, thank you”.

“I’d think about it. Ya know, we’re not getting any younger. Like ‘Tsumu said, you—”

“I should hurry up before I grow old with only my emotional unavailability to keep me company, I remember”, Rintaro finished his beer with a grimace. Osamu chuckled, eventually dropped the topic, but the suggestion remained unpleasantly hanging over his head both like a succulent fruit and a risky presage.

So now he’s slumped in the living room of the spacious apartment the EJP provides, a quiet Friday evening spent cooking some stew for dinner and facetiming his family. The tv is on as a distraction and an easy way out should things get uncomfortable. Surely Dwight will keep him grounded.

Suna’s already downloaded the app but it takes one episode and a half to muster the courage to actually tap on it.

The interface is pretty easy to navigate. It seems he’s supposed to create a minimalist profile first and then he’d be free to start a new, random chat. Users can opt out anytime or, if they wish to keep a specific person as their anonymous match, add them as a friend and pin the conversation within their personal directory. Nothing too complicated.

Suna’s patience wears thin easily and after a few attempts at picking unavailable usernames, he settles for crysnoopy. Finally, original enough at last.

Since not revealing one’s identity seems to be the point of the entire thing, he can’t upload a profile picture and instead has to select one random avatar from the default library. He picks a cartoon frog with big eyes and no mouth on a light green background.

There he is, an anonymous online presence on a stupid app. His profile only contains a nickname, he/him pronouns, age and a cute icon. No interests listed, no boundaries, not a single space where he could leave a polite note— please don’t send unsolicited dick pics. Not that he ever plans on requesting one.

Suna starts a few new chats, faceless identities either ending the conversation right away upon his dry and unoriginal hey or being as odd as one would imagine strangers in an anonymous community could be.

Lavenderhaze

-> Hi.

Lavenderhaze

-> How are you?

He sinks deeper into the nice couch pillows Atsumu forced him to get.

crysnoopy

-> hey. all good, wbu?

Lavenderhaze

-> Good, bored.

Lavenderhaze

-> Should we exchange nudes or something?

Rintaro sighs. Hesitation is laced into the delay of his thumb but eventually he taps the skip option, Osamu’s ominous words still ringing loud and clear in his head. It’s not what he downloaded the dumb app for, it’s not what he needs right now. Fuck, maybe he really should’ve called Atsumu instead.

A new chat opens after a short loading time and his nose wrinkles when he realizes that he’ll probably have to send the first message this time. The username staring back at him is original enough to make Suna take a few seconds to think of something equally entertaining to say. The whole thing is never going to work if he doesn’t take it seriously and actually puts some effort in it, right?

He looks up from his phone for a second. Then, a loud ping makes him jump.

Unfinishedusernam

-> When you shower, do you actively wash your legs or just let soapy water rinse down on them?

Rintaro almost huffs out a laugh. Original username and approach? A good enough start to ignite the hope of finally be talking to someone sane.

crysnoopy

-> I don’t shower.

A beat passes, then the small animation of a hand idly scribbling with a pencil indicates that you’re typing something back.

Unfinishedusernam

-> That’s hot.

-> Why the username?

Suna’s lips twitch, not a smile but almost. He wants to type an equally sarcastic reply, brush the question off and maybe ask something more interesting instead. But then he remembers what he’s doing and forces an honest reply out of his fingers.

crysnoopy

-> my little sister used to scream like an eagle when she cried, the one thing that always shut her up was a snoopy plush I won at the arcade.

Suna barely registers that his leg starts bouncing lightly as he watches the little hand appear on the screen once more.

Unfinishedusernam

-> I’m glad it’s something cute :)

-> Lowkey thought you were an incel

This time he really does snort out half a laugh.

crysnoopy

-> if I was I would’ve asked why your username is edging me.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Fair. So… you do shower, right?

crysnoopy

-> I promise I do.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Damn, my incel detector has truly failed me.

-> You seem suspiciously normal btw, I feel like we could have a conversation that doesn't involve dicks

Suna’s hand blindly reaches for the remote to lower the volume of the show he currently doesn’t seem to need as additional emotional support.

crysnoopy

-> likewise. wanna make it official?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Jeez, at least buy me dinner first

Rintaro’s beat to it, before he can even click on the option there’s already a colorful notification popping up on his screen, informing that he has a new friend request.

He accepts it.

It took some convincing for Samu to agree but, eventually, the spot on the pull-out couch became his. Between Hyogo and Shizuoka, with imminent plans of further expanding in Tokyo, he’s always travelling to make sure the shops are keeping their top quality standard high. The Shizuoka branch is still too recent for him to retreat back to his hometown for good, so he’s there most of the time. Suna had to call him an idiot a million times before Osamu accepted his hospitality, never one to ask for anything, always first in line to help others instead. Suna thinks he still didn’t call him an idiot enough times.

They’re both gone most of the day anyway, between the restaurant and training. The season is about to start and the trip to Osaka feels more imminent than ever, Suna knows he has to be at the top of his game to perform exactly how he’s expected to. Which means, no distractions. He does a good job at avoiding those, dating apps left unopened and the way home now shorter than usual, to circumvent his favorite bakery. Those blueberry muffins will have to wait. Samu’s healthier alternative with gram oats and bananas is one hell of a substitute anyway.

Suna loves his friend, he really does. The house feels less empty when he’s around and there’s always a homemade meal tucked somewhere in the fridge. They share breakfast when they get up at the same time and night conversations at the kitchen table if Rintaro manages to stay awake late enough to wait for Osamu to be back.

But sometimes, being alone is easier. No explanations owed for the one distraction he seems unable to give up, no curious raise of the eyebrows he’d have to confront when the familiar ping from his phone prompts an immediate reaction the wrong twin would tease him endlessly for.

He’s always been a dry texter or so his friends, teammates and relatives have always told him. Suna didn’t ever think he was supposed to make an effort to become better at written communication, or communication in general. But now, there’s you. A faceless, perhaps not entirely sane someone who makes him check his notifications way too often, insides spasming when the message doesn’t come from one of his groupchats and the Matchpal icon flashes across the screen instead.

Suna likes talking to you, so much that he often finds himself being the one to text first. It’s okay if you’ll take hours to get back to him sometimes, he knows for certain that the message is eventually going to light up his screen and that’s enough to make him smile. Sometimes you text first, at either ungodly hours in the middle of the night or during the day, if you’re bored at work. He doesn’t know what your job is, you don’t know precisely what Suna does either because, again, anonymity. The only detail he’s familiar with is that you’re often around “wearing but rewarding humans”, as you’d once put it. The one thing you know about him is that he’s an athlete, something you had briefly teased him for.

When he’s not talking to you, when parts or even the entirety of days that used to belong to him and his routine alone are devoid of your messages, Suna finds himself thinking. Or rather, imagining. There’s a lot he doesn’t know and he refuses to overwhelm you with questions, therefore his mind desperately tries to fill in the gaps to no avail. Are you spending the evening reading a book, watching a tv show? Did you cook dinner or order takeout? How happy are you that it’s been raining for three days straight on a scale of ‘I can only function if it’s sunny and bright’ to ‘leave me in a storm and watch me flourish’ ?

Most times, Suna simply plugs the charging cable into is phone, switches off the bedside light and hopes to wake up to one of your texts. They seem to be making an increasingly dangerous difference between a good day and a bad one. He’s not entirely sure it’s ideal.

Unfinishedusernam

-> The humans are testing me today. Whatever you’re doing, I hope you’re having fun!

-> Ah, look what my mom baked yesterday. Told her I have a friend who’d love these :)

-> [IMG_65209]

Rintaro, elbows resting on his knees and towel haphazardly thrown around the neck, smiles at the screen. God, he hasn’t had a blueberry muffin in over a month, but what he’s really focusing on is that you’ve mentioned him. To your mom. There’s a low, static buzz in his ears now, punctuated by the thumps of his heart growing louder. It makes you feel more real, it also makes something simmer in his stomach.

crysnoopy

-> I’m at training.

-> They look really good. Send me one immediately. How was family dinner?

He’s enabled auto-capitalization for the first time in his life, for god’s sake. The Inarizaki groupchat was so disturbed Atsumu decided to apply the same additional authenticator method used by his online banking and forced Suna to reply to a secret question. One only the real Suna would know the answer to.

He successfully demonstrated the needed personal knowledge concerning the color of Aran’s lucky underwear in high school and thus confirmed his identity.

Unfinishedusernam

-> It was nice! I love spending time with them

-> How’s training?

Rintaro finds himself wanting to give his identity shape too. It’s the first time he’s seen your hand, holding that tupperware underneath the dim light of your mom’s kitchen. He wants to feel more real for you, too.

He snaps a picture of his hand holding a half-empty water bottle, careful to hide his shoes. Not that you’d be able to immediately tell he plays volleyball from those, but just in case. You do get to see part of his legs though, shorts and their very recognizable colors kept out of frame.

crysnoopy

-> [IMG_65209]

-> Almost done, very tired

He watches as the little hand scribbles, then stops. It resumes the writing, then stops once more. His leg is bouncing again, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. He straight up jumps when, suddenly, someone loudly falls on the empty spot next to him and the bench creaks.

“We’re on a roll today, my blocks are almost as good as yours”, Washio grins, temples shining with sweat. He briefly glances down at the phone Suna almost drops when it vibrates against his palm.

“You okay?”.

“Yes”, Rintaro clears his throat, makes a show of shoving the phone right back into his bag, “you’re in shape today. Motoya too”.

“Ready for Osaka!”, Komori fist-bumps Tatsuki right before sitting next to him with an exaggerated groan, “hey, is your friend still in town? The Miya twin. We could go out tonight, get some drinks”.

“We literally leave in three days”, Suna’s fist lightly lands on his teammate’s head.

“Mocktails”, Motoya sticks his tongue out.

“I feel like I already see your faces enough. And I’m about to see them even more”.

“Rintaro don’t be a grumpy asshole, challenge once again failed”, Tatsuki rolls his eyes, “you’re always glued to that damn phone when you’re not playin’. Let’s go out, have fun, possibly get laid?”.

Suna sighs heavily. “Fine. I wanted to visit Samu’s new shop anyway, we can have dinner and take him with us afterwards”. He should get Osamu a gift, a nice plant or a maneki-neko. He’ll stop by a few shops on the way home, he decides.

“Now you’re talking!”, Washio smacks his shoulder with way too much energy, “let’s ask Nagito too, he’s gonna love some free onigiri!”.

“Hey, we’re payin’ for those”.

“Sure we are!”.

“I’m serious, you ass—”

“That’s enough gossiping, boys. Get back to work!”, by muscle memory, their legs react to coach’s boisterous voice and all three men jump up from their seats. Suna spends the rest of the late afternoon training thinking about the text message hidden in his gym bag.

It’s way past 6PM when training ends, the last half an hour was spent studying opponent videos and then simulating different match scenarios. Suna’s brain feels fried and on any other day he’d be so ready to get a massage, eat a well-balanced dinner and melt on his couch in front of a good tv show until his eyelids would grow heavy.

Instead, he takes the long way home, legs heavy as he explores different shops in search for the perfect gift. He settles for a very beautiful, handmade, porcelain maneki-neko, left paw raised instead of the right one because Suna knows Osamu will always care about having more customers who trust his restaurant rather than having more money.

The shop owner puts the gift in an elegant box and seals the bag with a delicate ribbon, he thanks the old lady with a deep bow and despite his limbs feeling heavy with fatigue, as he breathes in the cool air of the evening, Suna is content. He thinks of the message sitting pretty in his pocket as he heads home.

Unfinishedusernam

-> You have really nice hands

He didn’t open it, not yet. It’s reassuring to have the notification sitting there, untouched and polished against his lockscreen.

It shouldn’t matter that a stranger on an app is complimenting his hands, it really shouldn’t. Then why does it, somehow? Suna is happy you find his hands nice, which feels like a recipe for disaster. As he walks past his favorite bakery, he remembers you mentioning how you enjoy grabbing croissants for breakfast at times. When he told you that he was about to leave for a retreat with his team, after asking if their destination was one among Tokyo, Osaka and Yokohama, you proceeded to list all your favorite cafes, bakeries and restaurants for each of them. Just in case he had the time and wanted to check them out. As much as he tries to keep his distance, something as trivial as mentioning the correct city possibly resulting too risky, you always seem to go out of your way to reach closer. Taking the time to prepare three separate lists of suggestions while simultaneously respecting his boundaries is an effort he deems… unexpected. It feels weird in the best way. He almost wants to tell you it’s Osaka after all, give you something real, something new to hold on to. Maybe he’ll even tell you it’s volleyball.

“Coming home from another bad date?”, the unexpected quip startles Suna as he looks up from the sidewalk to find his not so friendly neighbor directing a saccharine smile at him, trash bags in hand. Not too long ago, he would’ve asked if she needed help with those.

“At least I still go on dates”, he purposefully eyes her attire, hoodie and sweatpants. Suna knows she’s just trying to annoy him, she can see the gym bag.

“With women who are blind, deaf, mute and desperate?”, she offers a sly smile and he rolls his eyes.

“That’s not a very flattering description of yourself, now”.

She huffs out a sarcastic laugh but Suna can see right through it: the irritation and the embarrassment.

“Always a pleasure running into you, Suna”.

“Likewise”, he smirks, “careful with those bags”.

Suna says goodbye with an unbothered wave of the hand despite her giving him the finger, positively happy that for a good while the chances of running into his neighbor will be reduced to zero. Osaka can’t come fast enough.

The thing is, he was surprised she lived so close when they first started chatting on a regular dating app. When Suna confirmed they were essentially in the same neighborhood, she was the one to propose a dinner right away.

Truthfully, it had been a bad day for him, for a number of reasons. Training was terrible, he was worried sick about his little sister’s sprained ankle, his own tendinitis was giving him hell and Atsumu had decided to call him to talk his ear off for an entire hour about the surprise party they were supposed to throw for Kita’s birthday. Yet, he didn’t feel like bailing on his date, so he forced himself out of the house with the worst mood.

Dinner was terrible. Awkward, tense, her growing increasingly impatient about his lack of responsiveness, him snapping at the tiniest, dumbest inputs. The entire night ended up being such a disaster she left halfway through her creamy salmon pasta, a few banknotes tucked underneath a glass of water, enough to pay half the bill. He remembers deflating in his seat, feeling terrible for five minutes, finishing his own dinner and then leaving as if nothing happened.

Suna thought about texting, maybe even apologizing, but he just never found it in himself to actually do it. It was just a bad date, bad dates happen. He’d never seen her before, or maybe simply didn’t pay enough attention to notice her presence, so there was no way he could’ve anticipated just how fucking often he’d run into her from that day onwards. She never failed to remind him of her resentment and, frankly, that ended up igniting his.

Of course Osamu’s leftovers are on his kitchen counter, neatly wrapped in tin foil. He remembers how hungry he’d feel after training, so when he knows Suna’s going to be busy until the late afternoon, he always makes sure to cook an extra portion.

Rintaro lets the gym bag fall onto the floor, right next to the couch he drops on with a groan. He’s already showered, he simply needs to change clothes and head out once more. When he checks the latest messages, his brows furrow in confusion.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Still at training?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Fuck, sorry, that was probably weird.

Unfinishedusernam

-> I really didn’t mean to sound like a creep

Suna really, actually smiles at his screen. You’re insecure about complimenting him, which is sweet. He should’ve complimented you first.

crysnoopy

-> Just got home

-> You didn’t sound like a creep, I like your hands too :)

His heartbeat picks up in pace when the hand starts scribbling shortly after, indicating that you’re online and were probably waiting for his reply.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Ugh, see? Now you feel like you’re forced to compliment me

crysnoopy

-> No I don’t?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Liar. Here, if you’re sincere, compliment these.

-> [IMG_98279]

A laugh bubbles from his throat when he opens the picture of your feet in a pair of fuzzy fox slippers.

crysnoopy

-> They’re beautiful. I’d kill to have an identical pair

-> So you have nice hands and cool slippers, good to know.

Unfinishedusernam

-> You’re a flirt in your everyday life, aren’t you?

Once again, Suna hesitates. He is, clearly he is. In all likelihood, if he knew you in real life, he would be. You’re nice, intelligent, funny, someone he can easily see himself being interested in. But it’s not what he downloaded the app for, he shouldn’t wander in flirty territory, he really shouldn’t.

crysnoopy

-> Only if they own a pretty set of slippers

When has he ever been good at following judicious advice?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Knew it. Flirt.

-> Can I ask you something?

crysnoopy

-> Ask away

Unfinishedusernam

-> Why are you on this app?

He sighs. Flirty territory is easier than honesty territory. A quick glance at the clock on his kitchen wall instills a sense of urgency as he types a reply, as raw and sincere as it gets.

crysnoopy

-> I wanted to find out if I could open up to strangers more than I do with people I actually know

He really fucking hopes Osamu is proud. Let it be known that he’s trying.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Do you think you could open up to me?

Suna exhales from his nose. This is definitely not the type of conversation he wanted to have while on a rush.

crysnoopy

-> Maybe

-> I’d like that.

He waits for a few seconds, chat gone silent. Maybe you logged off, maybe you don’t know how to reply, either way Suna feels a weight lifting from his chest. It’s true, he thinks he might have a deeper conversation with you of all people. A faceless someone who sends him pictures of stray cats and nice sunsets, who makes him smile at silly jokes. He shortly wonders if you’d like to open up to him in the same way, if being vulnerable will ever be on the table. For now, he’s okay with simply letting you know.

Osaka ends up being extra motivating.

The EJP Raijin players have been training hard, religiously respecting their schedules: there’s no time for slacking off, days punctuated by a disciplined sleep routine, physical and tactical training, cool-down exercises, refuelling afternoons and evenings spent cross-training. The synergy within the team is off the charts, they have won every single practice match played so far and the excitement is palpable as the game with the Black Jackals approaches.

Their training sessions are usually shorter. Atsumu insists it’s because they’re in better shape, Suna’s almost punched him in the face over dinner.

When he’s not too exhausted, against all odds, he enjoys spending some time with old friends and acquaintances. He knows it’s going to be a difficult game, Sakusa is a pain in the ass to block and Inunaki, their libero, is very talented. But he thinks he’s ready.

As they stroll through the city when their free days or breaks coincide, Suna is sometimes hit with pangs of a sentiment not entirely foreign. Nostalgia, regret? He can never tell for certain. He misses having his friends around, being in the same place at all times, travelling less. As he thinks of Osamu currently being the only occupant of his large, painfully empty apartment, while he shares a portion of takoyaki with an ever annoyingly loud Atsumu, when he listens to Bokuto enthusiastically detail his relationship with Keiji, he thinks he’s missing out on too many things and he’s past feeling unperturbed about it.

“Shoyo says he’s very happy in Brazil, asked us to visit soon. Ya should come”, Atsumu lightly bumps Suna’s shoulder with his as they walk by the river, in search of a good viewing spot. The colorful procession carrying portable shrines is quickly filling up the boats to be paraded up and down the Okawa river. While it’s still early for fireworks, oh and bunraku performances are about to begin on different stage boats, and the air is filled with fragrances coming from the endless rows of festival food stalls. What an unexpected fortune, to be in town for the Tenjin Matsuri.

“Not gonna crash on your friend’s couch”, Suna’s peremptory tone makes Atsumu roll his eyes.

“Why are you being so pissy today? What’s up, scared you’re gonna lose?”.

Rintaro searches for something in his friend’s annoyingly familiar, limpid gaze as Bokuto snickers next to him. He finds his own affection, honed by years of joint quarrels, reflected in it.

“Rin?”, Atsumu’s worried now, head slightly tilted to the side. Suna offers a tiny smile.

“Do you ever miss Hyogo?”.

“No”, the answer comes quick, “I miss my family, I miss my friends. Yer ugly face especially. Places are just places”, he shrugs and Suna feels his shoulders relax.

“We’re lucky, we still get to catch up”, Bokuto smiles, “it’s okay to feel sad sometimes though”.

“I’m not sad”, Suna grimaces, “t’was just a question. Shut up”.

“Aw, don’t be shy! Keiji always says owning how we really feel is important”, Bokuto offers him one of his dangos and he begrudgingly takes it.

“I feel like… you should shut up”, he gruffs out. Atsumu snickers at that and Bokuto pouts. Suna doesn’t pay attention to any of them, too preoccupied with taking a decent picture of the boats. He wonders if he’ll be able to make the fireworks look as pretty as they’re in real life, to show them to you.

He doesn’t care that you’ll know where he is, it isn’t but a small part of himself he wishes to unravel for you. It’s what you two have been doing, no? Occasionally sending each other messages that go beyond jokes and memes. You now know he has twins as friends, just how much he loves his little sister, his favorite dish. Suna knows you live close to your family and visit them as often as possible, that you always bring a can of tuna in your bag should you come across stray cats on the way to work. He knows you’re scared of the dark and can’t look at blood without feeling dizzy. You’re trusting, extremely indecisive, a fierce procrastinator, you spend too much time on tiktok and are scared to death you’re not going to be able to keep those who are important to you in your life, forever. Suna gets it, really.

He hasn’t been able to say much, you opened up to him as if it was nothing and he still can’t bring himself to share much more than comforting words and feeble details. Who cares if he likes yakisoba? He hates how detached he feels from everyone else. He feels lonely. He wishes he still lived in the same town as his friends. Sometimes he goes to sleep with the tv left on, to simulate someone else’s presence in a cold, empty apartment. He misses his family, like, all the time. The thought of getting on a plane paralizes him. He doesn’t think he’s good enough at volleyball, his team may lose and it would be his fault. He doesn’t think he’s good enough.

“Taking cute pics for your mystery girl?”, Atsumu grins widely. Suna keeps a composed facade, calmly snaps a few additional shots, but internally he’s screaming. It’s his fault for expecting a twin to keep a secret, really.

“How d’you know they’re not for my instagram?”.

“You haven’t updated your feed in a year”, Bokuto points at his phone screen, sunarin profile open to prove a point. Rintaro almost snatches it from his hand to throw it into the river below.

“She’s not my girl”, he grumbles instead, “just a random person I talk to. It was Osamu’s idea”.

“It was a good idea. I’ve been trying to get Kiyoomi on that app too, you’re both so closed off”.

On any other occasion, Suna would’ve denied that and retorted with an abrasive remark. Not this time, though.

“Yeah. Trying to improve there”, he huffs, to which Atsumu’s ready-to-take-the-piss expression softens.

“Right. So how is she? Can’t remember the last time you texted with a stranger for more than a week before they were either ghosted or became your girlfriend”.

“She’s okay. I don’t know much”.

“Everyone on Matchpal is anonymous”, Kotaro fills in Atsumu’s knowledge gaps.

“She has to be more than okay if you’ve been talking for over a month”, the older Miya insists, prodding mercilessly at Suna’s discretion.

“She’s funny”, he finally concedes, “and smart. Makes opening up to a stranger look too easy”.

“Smart? Okay, ya definitely wouldn’t be her type then”, part of the tightness in Suna’s chest dissipates as his fist collides with Atsumu’s arm.

“I think that’s the point, though. You don’t know each other and will never meet, so you can admit things you wouldn’t normally mention. Be vulnerable”, Bokuto finishes his dangos and crumples up the small disposable cardboard box they came with.

“Yes but at this point she doesn’t really feel like a stranger anymore”, Suna pauses after saying that out loud, surprised by his own words. When has he stopped considering you a faceless someone on a random app, exactly? He realizes he’s given you a voice in his head. A smile he imagines reacting to his lame jokes, when he deflects tentative personal questions. He’s given you a routine, shared most of his. You don’t feel like a stranger anymore but you’re not exactly a friend. What are you, then?

“Uh-oh”, it takes a moment to realize that the teasing sound comes from Bokuto. Crap.

“And we could meet”, Suna pushes, “Shizuoka is not that big”.

“She’s from Shizuoka? Christ”, Atsumu lets out a low whistle, “does she know you live in the same city?”.

“She never asked”, if the justification sounds odd, his friends are kind enough not to point it out. He doubts Osamu would be as lenient. Truth is, he didn’t ask either: after some time, you had just randomly disclosed the information, probably because you perceived him as a very discrete person. Which, for the record, he is.

“I’m going to ask you this question just once. Do ya like this girl?”.

“No”, obviously not, “I don’t even know her”.

“Oh? But you just said she doesn’t feel like a stranger?”, Bokuto’s eyebrows shoot up.

Suna sighs. His limbs feel heavy but it’s a different feeling than the one he gets after practice, more draining.

“He’ll figure it out”, the weight of Atsumu’s hand on his shoulder feels weirdly comforting.

I don’t know what she feels like, Suna wants to say. He settles for saying nothing, as the hold on his shoulder grows tighter for a split second.

Coach is going to have an earful ready for Motoya if he doesn’t show up on time at practice, in the morning. He’s still out celebrating-drinking with other teammates, their first Tenjin Matsuri an excuse good enough to be late. Suna doesn’t mind having the hotel room to himself for the evening, a welcome novelty: he just hopes he won’t have to drag his friend out of bed the following day.

His hair is still wet, the bed way too comfortable to consider getting dressed. You, a distraction that fills his stomach with fuzzy warmth, something that for a second makes him forget why his phone has been exploding with notifications.

It’s that stupid instagram post he decided to share after a year of semi hiatus, online presence proven only by the occasional story he’d upload. Suna feels particularly caught in his feelings today, so why not post the selfie Atsumu took by the river? His comment is pinned at the top of the section, with over 8k likes.

miyatsumu brothers ❤️

Bokuto left a heart too, Samu and Kita some of their usual simple but genuine comments. Love you guys. Miss you :). It’s easy for them, a skill he wants to master as well. It’s not enough for the people in his life to simply know that he loves them, Suna wants tell them more.

He takes a look at other comments, smiling faces with heart-eyes emojis and inappropriate compliments from strangers that make him laugh. He shortly wonders what your instagram looks like. Filled with pictures of you with your friends and family, no doubt. A feed that showcases your favorite food and places, creative outfits, witty captions and sometimes no captions at all. It’d fit you.

His phone pings again.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Osaka!!!!

-> Fuck I’m so jealous, I never got to see the festival :( did you have fun?

crysnoopy

-> I did. Some old friends are in town too, we’re playing against each other soon

Unfinishedusernam

-> Your friends are also athletes???

-> Now I feel bad, this is literally how I’m spending the evening

-> [IMG_62371]

Suna smiles upon opening the picture. You’re sitting on your couch and the hand not holding the phone is doing a V sign, a lidded tray balanced on your legs, tv channel set on a show he’s never been interested in. The lights are dim, the room doesn’t seem too big but it feels so cozy. The way a home should feel. He sees a coffee table and some lit candles by the tv unit.

crysnoopy

-> Looks like a perfect evening to me

Unfinishedusernam

-> I only walked 200 steps today.

crysnoopy

-> I’m like trying really hard to find something nice to say

-> Every morning is an opportunity to create a masterpiece called life?

-> Stop surviving, start thriving?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Fuck you for making me laugh, I almost dropped my dinner

He laughs as well, out loud, then double taps your message to like it so that you know he’s still acknowledging it, despite something more urgent suddenly prompting the quick movement of his fingers.

crysnoopy

-> Hey, remember when we talked about how you’re really scared of losing the people you love?

Suna can almost sense your surprise, it’s evident in the way the little scribbling hand appears and disappears repeatedly as you probably try to think of something appropriate to say.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Yeah?

crysnoopy

-> I feel that too

-> Most days I wake up thinking I’m a bad person

Another pause. This must be the most exposed he’s ever felt and Suna is grateful your replies are not as fast as they usually are because his hands are suddenly cold, palms clammy and disgusting.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Why do you think that?

crysnoopy

-> I don’t do enough to show how I feel and one day that could make them leave

-> Maybe stability isn’t for me and that scares me

-> I get bored easily, I don't want to commit. What if what’s regular, easy for everyone else will never be my thing?

Well, that’s a whole lot of fucking baggage he just dropped on you. His first instinct is to apologize, to ask you to just forget it, deflect with some joke about having had too much to drink and being in his feels. But he doesn’t do that. Why? What makes him want to trust you with all that? Perhaps it’s just curiosity, wanting to find out what a complete stranger would think of the thoughts that eat him alive at night. Maybe he’s hoping for some miraculous solution offered on a silver plate. Or he just wants to check if he’s able to even do the whole being vulnerable thing in the first place.

Your response comes after a couple minutes and Suna doesn’t remember the last time he felt so nervous.

Unfinishedusernam

-> How did you meet your current friends?

He furrows his brows.

crysnoopy

-> Most of them I met in school

Unfinishedusernam

-> So they made the conscious decision of being your friends every single day, all this time

-> Btw getting bored easily is okay. A bad person wouldn’t be asking those questions about himself :)

-> You can always work on what you want to improve

crysnoopy

-> You make it sound too easy

Unfinishedusernam

-> Sometimes it really is tho

-> You’re not too late, you know. Tell your friends that you love them, tell your family that you miss them

Unfinishedusernam

-> It doesn’t have to be easy right away

-> You get to make your own regular. Create your new normal

Suna exhales, reads your messages over and over again. It’s oddly comforting realizing that he is, in fact, not too late yet. Why does he always think that he is?

His phone pings again.

Unfinishedusernam

-> I think you’ll find a person you’ll want to commit to

-> That’s what I tell myself after all my failed dates anyway lol

-> Remember, be the change that you wish to see on tinder

Suna snorts, heart lighter in the hotel room he sits alone in. He could get drunk on the relief suddenly filling his chest, it feels like the touch of a cool hand over a feverish forehead.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Still there?

crysnoopy

-> I’m here

How could he not be?

crysnoopy

-> Thank you

Unfinishedusernam

-> How’s opening up to a stranger feel? :)

Good, if the stranger is you. Apparently.

crysnoopy

-> Mysteriously comforting

-> How are you failing those dates? Do I have to beat anyone up?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Nah

-> It just seems the guys I’m into are never into me

crysnoopy

-> That sucks for them

It really, truly, actually does. He doesn’t remember the last time he felt as comfortable sharing something so personal over text, it’s all so natural Suna is convinced he’d be able to do that in person as well. How would it feel to meet you? Would the magic wear out, is this so easy only because an anonymous profile on a silly app?

Sure, Suna doesn’t know your name or what you look like, but that doesn’t make you a stranger. He knows you enough for the words to almost spill out of his hands, words that press threateningly against the pads of his fingers.

He’d be into you. He’d date you. That’s what he wants to say: there’s no need to know how you look or the name printed on some documents, he knows enough. It’s a weird feeling that scares him and clouds his mind for a brief moment, as he waits for your reply.

Unfinishedusernam

-> That’s sweet of you to say!

-> Last time I went out with a guy I really liked it was a disaster

-> He also lived pretty close to me, thank god he moved now

crysnoopy

-> Well, joke’s on him. He’s missing out big time

Unfinishedusernam

-> Stop being cute, I’ll fall for you

Suna takes a sharp breath. Reading the words does something funny to his stomach, something Atsumu would tease him for.

Shit, Atsumu. The game is so close. When’s the last time volleyball disappeared from his brain like that, with the snap of invisible fingers? Can he afford being this distracted?

Unfinishedusernam

-> This dinner fucking slaps btw

-> They opened a new place in my city, add that to the list of spots you have to visit if you swing by shizuoka

-> It’s called onigiri miya

Suna chokes on his own spit so badly he thinks he’s gonna die as he abruptly sits up, coughing fit that brings tears to his eyes. He stares at his screen in disbelief, sudden reminder of how tangible and close you actually are burning like a slap in the face.

Samu picks up after a few rings, it’s late enough for him to be either still in the shop or getting out of the shower.

“Hey, what’s up? Saw your pic with that scrub—”

“Did a girl come to the shop today?”, the question is uttered with so much urgency the line goes silent for a few seconds.

“My day was great, thanks for asking! I’m okay, eating dinner on your couch right now”, the fake singsong tone makes him roll his eyes.

“I’m sorry, this is an emergency. She just told me she was at your shop today”.

“Really? Did she like it?”.

“Osamu”.

He chuckles lightly.

“Okay. First, please tell me why we care so much that she came to the shop today?”.

Suna loves his friend, he really does. Sometimes he wishes he was close enough to be punched in the face. “Stop being a dick”.

“Fine. A girl did come to the shop today”, Suna’s heart almost stops, “… along with a million others”, he deflates against the pillow once again, defeated. He knows it’s something he really shouldn’t do but he still sends the picture to Osamu, slightly cropped to leave out everything that’s not useful to the investigation. The two things his friend gets to see are your dinner and a V sign.

There’s a pause, one Rintaro swears is filled by the loud pounding of his restless heart.

“I know who she is”, Osamu speaks quietly, in a tone that leaves no room for sarcasm.

“What?”, Suna’s voice comes out thin, incredulous.

“I remember her. Came in as I was about to close the shop, bowed and begged for whatever leftovers I might’ve had. She looked like she had a horrible day, so I just…”.

“Put something together for her”, as you always do.

“Yeah! I usually don’t use those trays but I didn’t have any of the regular ones left”.

“Well, how is she?”, Suna cringes at the impatience vibrating in his voice, it makes him sound desperate. Osamu hums, it’s a voluntarily prolonged sound that makes him scoff.

“She’s really sweet. Apologized a million times, left a generous tip. I think you’d like her”.

“Yeah?”.

“Yeah, Rin”, he’s smiling, “I also think you should tell her”.

“Tell her what?”.

“That you want to meet her, dumbass”.

Suna runs a hand through his now dried hair, lightly ruffles it. This feels dangerously real now, something he could grasp if he so much as decided to hold out a hand. You’re so close. There’s something else simmering underneath the fear and Rintaro recognizes it easily. It’s an almost forgotten eagerness that he’s not entirely stranger to.

“Samu”.

“Hmm?”, he’s smiling again. The asshole.

“I think I like her”.

“No shit”, Osamu full on laughs now, jovial and relieved. Despite the annoyance, Suna feels the exact same way.

Shizuoka seemed different upon his return, an endless pool of possibilities where something would inevitably remind Suna of you. He’d made peace with the fact that he had a crush on someone he’s never met and with that truth also came an endless list of associations his brain couldn’t help but make.

Texting you first, whenever he wanted, became natural. What’s more, it was almost as if you were encouraged by his newly loosened state, that one evening in Osaka opening the floodgates of something else, something different. You trusted him with your most intimate thoughts and so did he. There was no more wondering if you were bothering each other or texting at an unconvenient time. You’d once told him you felt self-conscious about that specifically.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Sometimes I feel like I’m too much

-> Would you tell me if I was too much?

crysnoopy

-> What do you mean?

Unfinishedusernam

-> You know, if I was pestering you

crysnoopy

-> You’re not too much

-> And even if you were, I could handle you :)

You were the happiest when he had told you they’d won the game in Osaka. Heck, you baked blueberry muffins (“to celebrate!”) and asked him to go get himself one so you could pretend he was there to eat yours. And Suna did: he got up from his bed, grabbed a jacket, put on some running shoes and made his way to his favorite bakery with a dopey smile on his face. He then suggested a toast and, what a coincidence, you happened to have a bottle of white wine left unopened for the longest time. The occasion seemed worthy.

And so you both ate and drank and celebrated until his cheeks felt hot and your texts started lacking proper grammar. Suna remembers how it felt, slumped on his couch, lights low and mind dizzy as his eyes blinked and blinked and then blinked again while the message sat on his screen, black against white. He just stared at it, not entirely able to discern reality from fictitious.

Unfinishedusernam

-> I wish you were here

-> I’d probly just kiss you

Suna remembers staring at his screen as a wild joy exploded in his heart and took over his entire chest, scorching and vibrant like festival fireworks. He stared at it for so long he still doesn’t quite recall if he wrote the reply or if the reply wrote itself, because the only other solid memory in relation to that moment is drifting off with an empty bottle of wine precariously balanced on his lap.

He woke up the next morning with a sour taste in his mouth, a throbbing headache and sore neck. His phone had fallen to the floor and when he picked it up, it was with a heavy heart that he noticed you hadn’t replied.

crysnoopy

-> I want nothing more

-> I’m from shizuoka too. let’s make it happen?

It wasn’t unusual for one of you to leave the other on read and it wasn’t like Suna to hyperfixate on not receiving a reply but this time, for some reason, it felt different.

As he got up with a groan and shuffled to his bathroom to take a shower, a strange feeling of dread strangled his body from the inside, his mind running a million miles a minute. Were you disgusted? Mad, that he had kept his location a secret? That would’ve been unfair, though, and you had always proved to respect his boundaries. Maybe it was all a joke, then. You thought of all that flirting as nothing short of a game, something stupid to pass the time with a stranger online. Something that wasn’t real. Worse, something you’d never want to be real, especially if given the chance to make that happen. Fuck.

Suna succeeded in keeping himself fairly busy for a few hours that day: he cleaned his whole apartment, did some meal prep, called his mom, called his sister, even called Atsumu. Your silence kept throbbing at the edges of each minute, it became so unbearable he ended up sending you a picture of an aspirin package with a funny caption, to test the waters.

You never replied. Not that day, not the following day, a week later your chat is still painfully empty. Or rather, filled with all the messages he’s sent before giving up.

crysnoopy

-> Killer headache town, population: me

crysnoopy

-> How are you feeling?

crysnoopy

-> Hey, everything ok?

crysnoopy

-> I’m so sorry if I made you uncomfortable.

-> I was really tipsy, I didn’t mean it

crysnoopy

-> Or at least I didn’t mean to sound so pushy.

-> I’d never pressure you into doing anything, let alone meet me

crysnoopy

-> I’ll give you space if you need it, can you just please tell me that you’re okay? It’s been three days

crysnoopy

-> Okay. I’ll be here if you ever come back.

He’s so mad at you. Weren’t you the first one coming forward with all that stuff about wanting to kiss him? Why would you disappear? He’s apologized, what else can he do? Was it all seriously worth so little to you?

Suna feels as if the days are longer now, training unbearable. Instead of keeping his mind occupied, all it does is remind him of how badly his blocks suck lately. He doesn’t pick up when Osamu calls, he’d read everything there’s to read in his seemingly inexpressive tone. He’s mad at himself, for not noticing how stupidly attached he’d become. Is it normal to miss you so badly? He doesn’t remember the last time he missed someone just as much. The world is cruel in relentlessly reminding him of you: an advert you’d find funny, that movie you’d recently discussed making a comeback in cinemas, sunsets painting the sky in orange and lilacs so similar to the ones you’d send him, a pair of fuzzy fox slippers on display in a shop window on the way to the gym.

The toxic part of his brain is ruthless in reminding him that this is why he refuses to open up to new people. That this is why he never lets himself be actually vulnerable and simply plays along: it’s because he’d be left with nothing but mockery, humiliation and loneliness.

But Rintaro doesn’t want to give that part of his brain any more solidity. What he wants, is to be proud of himself. Relieved, even. He wants to feel happy for having been brave enough to take a risk, to trust, to open up. He wants to relish in the joy that the brief encounter with you, anonymous and all, gave him. So what if you never come back or talk to him again? That’s on you. He’ll miss you for a good while, will probably always wonder what you’re up to from time to time, but he’ll be okay. You gave him much more than what you’re probably aware of and truth is, he’s grateful. He just hopes you’ll always be okay too, he hopes life will treat you well. He hopes you don’t regret trusting him with your most intimate thoughts, ever.

It’s not like he doesn’t reread some of your messages, to keep himself company. The most recent ones still have the not entirely pleasant effect of twisting his insides. He’ll have to delete that folder of screenshots eventually.

Unfinishedusernam

-> I’m so glad I stumbled over you on this stupid app btw

Unfinishedusernam

-> You’re sweet, snoopy :)

Unfinishedusernam

-> Today was shit

-> Sometimes I think about how it’d be to have you here, at the end of shitty days

Unfinishedusernam

-> Stop flirting with me, it’s working

Unfinishedusernam

-> I feel so slilly

-> can you evne like someone you nevee met?

Turns out, you really can. He just never fully got around to telling you properly.

And then, one day, Suna’s blocks don’t suck anymore. In fact, they’re just as good as they’ve always been. He speaks with Osamu on the phone, a little bummed that his friend doesn’t have another trip to Shizuoka planned anytime soon: the shop is doing great, his presence is no longer required as often.

“I’ll miss you”, Rintaro still remembers the stunned silence following his words, “come back soon, shop or not”.

The younger Miya twin paused his ministrations, hands sticky with rice, and offered a surprised chuckle, “I’ll be back. Ya can also take a train every now and then, ya know?”.

“Maybe I will. Hey, next time you plan a trip to Osaka, can I come too?”.

“Hell yeah. I wouldn’t have to endure that dickhead alone”.

He talks to Kita and Aran way more these days: when he thinks of one of his friends, he simply grabs the phone and reaches out with a text, a meme or a funny reel. It seems to make them happy.

When his mom tells him that Kaori has been relentlessly asking about visiting her older brother, Suna assures her that he isn’t too busy to accomodate her for a week or for however long she wants to stay. Even if he was, he’d make it work. His mom clicks her tongue, gives her approval for a weekend only, less her daughter falls behind her homework even more. He grins when he hears Kaori scream MAKE IT TWO WEEKENDS in the distance.

Suna hasn’t seen his little sister in months and despite their relationship being exhaustingly conflictual (they are way too similar to each other and she gets a kick out of pissing him off), he loves her deeply and she trusts him just as much. Sometimes being home without him can become a lot and it’s not like she ever directly admits it but he’s pretty sure Kaori misses him, the little gremlin.

He was already 14 when she was born and little Rintaro had faced the news of a new addition to the family (a female, no less!) with infinite crankiness. He huffed and puffed and complained about having to share a room and a bathroom throughout his mom’s entire pregnancy, then a pink little bundle of dark hair and eardrum demolishing shrieks held his pointer finger in her tiny fist for the first time and he swore to guard her with his life, forever.

Suna wakes up extra early to clean the bathroom and his room, which he’s going to give to his sister, and make it girl-appropriate. He always goes on a tiny shopping spree before she visits: kitchen cabinets are now filled with her favorite snacks, there’s a colorful set of strawberry handcream, lotion and lip balm on his nightstand, a sweatsuit set neatly folded on his bed, the expensive vanilla body scrub their mom wouldn’t get her sits pretty in the shower.

He texts her before heading out for practice, demands she keeps him updated about her position. Kaori send a thumbs up and the picture of the blurred view outside the train window.

Unfortunately, as it often happens, coach announces the team is required to stay longer than he had anticipated and Suna doesn’t dare explain that he’s actually in a terrible rush because Motoya has been playing like shit and, of course, that becomes everyone’s problem.

“Get it together, man”, he hisses, way less patient than usual. Komori pouts.

“I’m trying”.

“Try harder!”, Washio snickers from the other side of the court.

It’s not until an hour later that Suna can dash through the gym doors, already forty minutes late to the appointment his sister had agreed on in the morning. When he notified her about the extra training, she didn’t falter.

-> No worries, I’ll find the house.

The train station isn’t at all far from his apartment, a mere 15-minute walk, but Kaori hasn’t visited in a few months and she’s not exactly known for her acute sense of direction. She’d get lost in her own house if it wasn’t impossible to achieve that in a small two bedroom apartment.

“Why is your damn phone going to voicemail?”, Suna grumbles to himself in the middle of the street, torn between running to the station or straight home. It’s not dark yet but the sun has set and Kaori knows very well the one thing she’s never allowed to do is turn her phone off, especially if him or their mom are not aware of where she is.

Right as he decides to head to the train station first, he hears her voice. There’s someone taller with her, which makes the hairs behind his neck stand up right away.

“Kaori!”, he damn nearly trips over his own feet as he rushes towards his sister in the opposite direction, gym bag almost falling off his shoulder while she chats with god knows who without a care in the world.

“Rin”, she stops right in her tracks, “sorry, kinda got los—”

“Why the hell is your phone turned off?”, as if to underline his point, he impatiently taps on his phone screen a few times, another call interrupted by immediately going straight to voicemail. He only now realizes how breathless he sounds.

“Battery died, I forgot my charger at home”, Kaori juts her bottom lip out. She’s the spitting image of her brother. “I was lucky to meet your friend right outside the station”, she looks up and so does he, features morphing into a horrified expression. Out of all people.

“You… what?”, Suna doesn’t know what to say. Was his neighbor even capable of smiling like that?

“It was nothing! We had fun, didn’t we?”.

Kaori nods. “We fed some stray cats on the way here. It’s so weird that you had canned fish in your bag, though”.

“I always carry some! Didn’t you see how hungry Mochi was?”.

For the following seconds, Suna is incapable of uttering another word. It becomes weird enough for his neighbor to wave a hand in front of his face, brows furrowed.

“Suna?”.

“Yeah”, he replies on autopilot, “Yes. I mean, thank you. Kaori, let’s go”, he eyes his sister’s large, pink, glittery backpack. Hanging from his neighbor’s shoulder.

“Uh, actually”, his sister coughs.

“What now?”.

“I kinda need to use the bathroom”.

“You can use it at home? It’s a ten minute walk from here, let’s get going”.

“I kinda need to use it now”.

“Kaori”, he sighs, “it’s ten minutes”.

“I live right here”, the woman from his nightmares indicates the house behind her, “wanna make a pit stop?”.

“Absolutely not”, Suna clears his throat, “she can hold it”.

“She can’t”, Kaori shrinks in herself a little, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

“Fine, I guess we are making a pit stop”, he mutters and his sister exhales in relief, grabs his neighbor by the sleeve and urges her to open the door, quick quick quick please.

Suna watches his sister dash upstairs with a snort as he takes her backpack. It’s heavy as a rock. The hell did she put in there?

“You’re not gonna catch fire if you come in, you know”, his neighbor fixes him with a sarcastic glare as she takes off her shoes, letting her own bag fall to the floor.

“Sorry for the trouble”, he steps in at last, with a low grumble that allows a chuckle to surprise him.

“Don’t be too hard on her. She was panicking, I offered my phone but she didn’t remember your number. I asked where she was supposed to go and when she mentioned the neighborhood, I inquired about her brother’s name. Pretty lucky, huh?”, she’s not looking at him, busy taking off her jacket as well. Suna’s gaze softens.

“Yeah, really lucky. Thank you for taking care of her”.

“I also have a younger brother, I know what it feels like”, she smiles, looking at him at last, “one time we went to a festival without our parents, he thought it’d be funny to play hide and seek without telling me. I think I aged ten years that night”.

“She also used to run away so much as a kid. It’s in our blood, I was the exact same”.

“Doesn’t surprise me for some reason”.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”.

“I’m done, we can go now”, Kaori hops down the stairs, two steps at a time, then glares at her brother. Golden, foxy eyes narrowed. “You’re not being rude, are you?”.

He rolls his eyes but, before he can reply, someone beats him to it.

“He’s never rude to me. We’re friends, remember?”, Suna watches her wink with a smile so warm. Is that really the same person he runs into almost on a daily basis?

Astonished, he witnesses that little, usually quiet, reserved gremlin smile back at his neighbor. Then, remembering how important formalities are in their family, she thanks her with a deep bow. It’s only then that he notices them: fox slippers. Cute, pointed ears, bushy tales and everything.

They both jump when the steel water bottle hits the parquet flooring, Kaori dramatically clutching her chest. “Can you not be a weirdo for five seconds?”.

His neighbor (could it be…???) furrows her brows in genuine confusion. “I think volleyball finally started affecting his brain. Better take him home”.

“Yeah. Let’s go, loser”.

“Shut up, be thankful mom’s not here”, he fires back, fake annoyance to cover the fright that gnome’s actually caused. Suna’s heart is racing for an entirely different reason as he takes another furtive look at those slippers while pushing Kaori out the door, mind racing.

He is completely, absolutely unable to focus. Over dinner, he distractedly listens while his sister paints vivid pictures of boring classes, the art course their mom wants her to give a chance to, the latest fight she had with her best friend. He asks questions and fails to register the answers he gets, over and over again. It’s a relief when Kaori sprints to the bathroom, calling the shots for who gets to shower first. Suna is left rinsing the plates, with a brain that can’t think.

Would it be possible? You’re from Shizuoka. You have those exact slippers. You always feed stray cats. God, the fucking slippers. What are the chances?

He could call Osamu, ask a few questions. Instead, his sister’s voice keeps chipping away at what’s left of his sanity.

Your friend’s cool. I wish my teacher was that nice.

A teacher. Could kids be the wearing but rewarding humans you often mentioned?

He goes back to that disastrous dinner, desperately trying to recall how the conversation felt. What did they even text about prior to that evening? Was that woman as charming as you are? Fuck, he doesn’t remember a single word exchanged that evening. He just remembers being an asshole.

“I’ll be back in ten minutes”, from her comfortable spot on the couch, Kaori watches her brother march to the front door, then bend down to put on the same shoes he wore a few hours before, “lock the door, don’t burn the house down”.

“Where are you going?”, her brows are knit in confusion, never in worry.

“None of your business. Lock the door”.

“Sure, sure, bye”.

“Right now, Kaori”, something in his weirdly brisk tone makes the fourteen year old pause the show she’s watching, not without a dragged groan, and get up from underneath the blanket she had stolen from her brother’s room.

You’re so ready to go to bed early and declare the day officially concluded.

Work was tough, managing a new classroom of overexcited kids had proven to be particularly difficult. Between the increasing pressure from school administrators and the daunting task of creating engaging lesson plans for the new semester, you felt a heavy weariness threatening to swallow you whole.

As you brush your teeth, tired reflection staring back at you, he worms his way back into your thoughts once more. Saying that hearing his name and then seeing him again was unexpected would be an understatement: you were absolutely convinved (and thankful) he had moved. Where the hell did he disappear for over a month? Just to come back and show up like the annoying, irritating nuisance he is. One you can’t seem to whisk away.

Your date was one of the most disappointing nights of your life. Suna, the guy you had talked with for days, the same Suna who was so witty, intelligent and nice, was also just so blatantly uninterested. Bored. He didn’t even make the effort to ask about your day, eyes distant whenever you tried to initiate a conversation. And of course, because life hates you, you have to be reminded of that night every single day because you now see him every single day.

What’s more, you had failed the one person you’ve been able to feel interested in after that big, fat disappointment. Someone who just found himself trapped in the crossfire of your thoughts and stupid, stupid fears. Someone you were selfishly not ready to have so close. Someone wonderful who didn’t deserve your self-serving worries.

You’re already in your pjs when the doorbell rings multiple times, so insistent you almost trip down the stairs as you hurry, terrified that you’re gonna have to face an emergency with pandas printed on your pants.

“What the hell?!”, you instinctively step back as he leans forward, his entire weight resting against the doorframe.

“Sorry, I know it’s late”, Suna takes a deep breath but it’s not really needed. Prior warmup or not, he isn’t at all affected by the sprint through which he covered the distance between his house and yours. “I just had to… hey, can I come in? I’m probably gonna have a heart attack if I don’t sit down”.

You’re staring at him wide-eyed, completely startled.

“Yeah? Sure, come in! Is your sister okay? Did something happen?”, you’re quick to push the door closed as he heavily flops on your couch.

“No, no…”, Suna seems distracted for a moment, eyes scanning the room and zeroing on your tv, which is currently turned off. He stares at it for a while, then lets out a small laugh. “Actually, maybe it’s better if I stand up”.

“Suna, are you on drugs right now?”, the question is serious but his eyes, now fixed on you, don’t reveal any particular emotion besides genuine… amusement?

“I need to tell you something”.

The odd idea that he might be hiding a knife somewhere underneath that leather jacket crosses your mind for a split second.

“Sure…?”.

“When my sister was a baby, she’d cry a lot. I legit thought my ears would explode at some point”, he weighs the words carefully as he approaches you and, for some odd reason, you don’t take a step back. “She’d cry so much, all the time. And then, one day, I brought home a snoopy plush I won at the arcade. It became the one thing that would always shut her up”.

It feels like someone’s toppled a bucket of ice cold water over your head. Suna is standing so close while looking at you in a way you’ve never witnessed, a way so uncommon for him. You can’t focus on the desperation in his eyes and you’d never guess the hopefulness simmering behind a gaze that seems to be discovering you for the first time.

“It’s you”, barely a whisper, but it’s all the confirmation he needs. The relief in Suna’s exhale is intense as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in. Thank god he does, because your knees feel so wobbly.

It’s a weird sensation, being pressed against him, hanging onto his shoulders for support. He’s warm and smells so good, of bergamot and musk. Your brain can’t quite comprehend that he’s the person you’ve been talking to for the past months.

“I missed you. I’m sorry”, he confesses in the curve of your neck and the words dissolve underneath the thin fabric of your pjs, slowly sink into your skin and bones. “I’m so sorry”, he says again, carefully pulls back to look at you, eyes searching for any sign of discomfort. Mirth flashes across his features for a moment. “Hey, are you about to throw up?”.

“No, of course not!”, you take a tentative step back but he doesn’t trust your stability and keeps a gentle hold on your arms, “why are you apologizing? I disappeared. I should be the one… I should be…”, Suna’s gaze softens, one hand rising up to touch your face but then freezing mid-air, deciding against the risk of freaking you out even more.

“Please don’t cry”.

“What?”, you retort, “I’m not crying. Ew”, but when you touch your cheek, it’s shocking to find it wet. What the fuck.

“Oh, god. Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me”, a dry chuckle bubbles up from your throat, “listen, there’s no pressure on you. I’m sure this is a real disappointment so, like, we can pretend it never happened and just go on with our lives. I won’t—”

“Are you sure it’s you? The person I’m looking for is pretty clever”, he attempts a smile when you frown, familiar at last. “You think I’d leave my sister alone and race all the way here for a real disappointment?”.

“I think you just wanted to corroborate”.

Suna rolls his eyes, incredulous. “Well, I corroborated. I’m only gonna pretend it never happened if that’s what you want, because it sure as hell isn’t what I want. If you even care about that”.

You angrily wipe your tears, cheeks burning scorching hot with embarrassment. “I didn’t expect you to be so close. I freaked out. I’m freaking out right now because you’re even closer, apparently”.

“Are you disappointed?”.

You look at him, really look at him. His dishevelled hair, naturally narrowed eyes, the bridge of a perfect nose, full lips forced in a severe line. He’s searching for something in your gaze, with fierce determination. How can one person’s eyes be so penetrating? You feel naked, exposed. Vulnerable.

“No”, you reply, sincere, “no, I’m not”. If only you could feel the relief taking over his chest. “But… what now?”.

Suna feels as if he’s seeing you for the first time and, at the same time, it’s like he’s recovering something important, something precious. He’s already trusted you with some of the most important, hidden parts of himself. He hasn’t liked someone that way in such a long time and he’ll be damned if he lets this chance pass by. Again.

He’s not too late. Why does he always think he is?

You curiously watch as Suna takes his phone out and spends a few seconds tapping on it with a smile he can barely hide.

The familiar ping of a notification you haven't heard in weeks makes you stutter.

crysnoopy

-> Now we do this right.

#suna x reader #suna x you #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro x you #hq x reader

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blushweddinggowns · 7 months ago

Text

Eddie sighed as he turned to the bartender, “Can I have the cheapest beer you got? But you only let me have one?”

The guy nodded at him, passing one over with a sympathetic smile, “Designated driver?”

“Something like that,” Eddie said, his eyes wandering back to the dance floor. At least the two of them were having fun, giggling and twirling each other around. They were cute together, always were. No one could make Steve smile like Robin could, a fact that Eddie was just going to have to accept.

He sipped his beer as he watched them, smiling to himself a little at how happy they looked. Until someone was tapping on his shoulder. Eddie glanced up, surprised to see a guy standing there. He looked… good. J.Crew-esque with a bright smile.

“You don’t really look like the type to come in here,” He said, taking the bar stool next to him.

Eddie gave him a once over, deciding to be quick about not leading him on. He shrugged, “I’m not, but the people I love are.”

The guy nodded along, his eyes trailing to the dance floor. Eddie followed the line of it, frowning when he realized he was looking right at Steve. Robin was in the middle of dipping him, both of them laughing. Eddie swallowed as he looked at them, watching the shine of the bright, colorful dance light cross over his face. He looked gorgeous, relaxed and giggly as he went to return the favor to her. Though now that Eddie was looking around he was realized he wasn’t the only one staring.

“Speaking of that,” The guy went on, “What’s the deal with the guy you came in with?”

Eddie’s frown only deepened at the question, “Who, Steve?”

“Is that his name?” The stranger asked, obviously interested.

At least he had good taste, Eddie had to give him that. Even if the question had his eye twitching, “Yeah, that’s his name.”

"So is he single or is the blonde a permanent fixture?" He asked.

Eddie snorted, “She’s a permanent fixture, all right. But she’s queer as a three-dollar bill, so not much to worry about there.”

That was the wrong answer if the excited look on his face was any indicator.

“You know what kind of drink he likes?” He asked, already motioning for the bartender.

Eddie swallowed, the sick feeling coming back. The worst part is that he could see it. Steve with someone like this. Handsome, self-assured, confident. Actually comfortable in their own skin. He couldn’t help but think they would look good together.

The thought just wasn’t enough to stop Eddie from blurting, “Of course I do. He’s my boyfriend after all.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, why did he just say that? Eddie bit the inside of his cheek at the stupid lie. At how easily it had rolled off his tongue.

“Oh yeah?” He asked, disappointment coloring his voice.

Eddie had ample time to correct himself, to say my bad. He’s my best friend. That was a slip of the tongue. To say anything else.

He doesn’t.

No, not when the anxiety he had firmly nestled in the pit of his stomach finally started to soften. Besides, Eddie liked how disheartened he looked.

He liked it enough to keep lying his ass off. He took another sip of his beer, feigning casual, “Hard to tell since the two of them have been hanging off each other all night. But yeah, he’s mine.”

He hadn’t expected for those words to feel so good.

The guy sighed, “Well, good for you man. He’s a looker, I doubt I’m the only one who had my eyes on him.”

“He has that effect on people,” Eddie said, his eyes trailing around the room. Watching every face that was looking Steve’s way. He hated it on them just as much as he did on the stranger next to him.

Fuck it, he was already in this deep. He might as well keep it going.

“Feel free to spread the word,” Eddie added as the guy stepped away, “It will save me some time.”

“Will do,” He sighed again before walking off, setting his sights on someone else.

The bartender chuckled as he wandered off, clearly eavesdropping in, “You want me to spread the word too? I’ve already got four guys who are looking to buy him a drink when he gets off the floor.”

Eddie was barely surprised.

“Spread it like wildfire,” He said easily, his eyes going straight back to Steve.

Part of him had expected some guilt when people started looking his way. Whispering to each other while Eddie glared at anyone who even looked like they wanted to get to Steve. He knew he could cut an intimidating figure when he wanted to. The way he dressed usually did most of the heavy lifting, but he didn’t doubt how harshly his expressions were coming off. It also helped that every last guy who came to saddle up to the bartender to try and get a drink going for Steve walked away disappointed once he pointed a thumb towards Eddie’s direction. It definitely earned him a disproportionate tip, despite the fact the Eddie was internally freaking the fuck out.

He didn’t feel guilty, but he felt… possessive. Offended almost that people didn't just assume he was taken. Something that he didn’t know how to rationalize. But that didn’t stop him from trying.

from the latest chapter of this fic

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #stranger things #oh no not me i'd never lose control

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adventuringblind · 10 months ago

Text

The Thrill of It (1.8K Words)

LandOscar x Reader

Genre: Street Racer AU, Smut

Summary: Sometimes the boys come back from races a little riled up, it doesn't help tonight that they get a bit possessive when someone lays a hand on what's theirs.

Warnings: PinV sex, unprotected sex, public sex, exhibitionist Lando, Sub reader, Dom Oscar, Oral, face-fucking, Hair pulling (?), minor degradation, Oscar being stressed after because AFTERCARE IS IMPORTANT OKAY

Notes: I'm back! Did you miss me? I think this is the most lewd smut I've ever done... But reminder that comments and filling my inbox with nice things motivates me to write!!

Side Note: MINORS AVERT YOUR EYES!! ADULT CONTENT AHEAD!!

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

The lights amongst the crowd flitted about in shades of neon. The people are rowdy tonight on the sides of the street. All of them handing off their cash to each other to bet on which driver they think will win.

It’s a dangerous game with no medic on scene. She supposes that’s the thrill of it. Knowing there may be no return once they put their foot on the pedal.

Lando and Oscar are practically swimming in the cash now. While she isn’t in the spotlight, they certainly are. These are their streets. They know Woking like the back of their hands now.

Lando says he drives by feeling where Oscar has a map of the turns memorized. It speaks volumes about their character.

You’d think these idiots would stop betting so much on other drivers. She’s been here enough times to know they never learn. Always lured into a false sense of hope. She doesn’t mind it, simply finds it funny.

She finds herself entranced by the sounds of the engines, the people chanting their names. She sees other people oggle the two, hands becoming a bit more than friendly as the night progresses and alcohol is consumed.

A car pulls below her hiding spot. The second car driven, a truck she can sit in the bed of when things get overwhelming and the people too much.

Those friendly hands tend to slip when they see a pretty stranger. Boundary lines are crossed. Another thing they should know by now: Oscar and Lando are the kings of these streets and it’s best not to mess with their queen.

The bed of the truck shakes as they climb in with her. Their faces are half hidden in the dark. The other is illuminated by intermittent flashing lights.

Lando looks all too happy about the stunt he just pulled. A dangerous thing that could have killed him if not done right. The adrenaline has his pupils dilated. “Don’t think he’ll be coming back again. Gave him a run for his money… Liturgy!”

“Literally-”

“Yes, that’s what I meant - Literally!”

She tilts her head back and laughs. Drunk off the atmosphere of the night and maybe the fumes of whatever people have been smoking all night. “Scared him off then?”

“You know it baby!” Lando latches right onto her exposed neck with his teeth for all of two seconds before Oscar is dragging him off. It leaves them both whining. “Osc! I’m doing things!”

“You’re doing our things.” The dehumanizing language should not have her this hot and bothered, in Woking, in October. She’s wearing a skirt with nothing aside from panties underneath and one of Oscar’s zip-ups with a tank top. Not the best choice of clothing all things considered, but she could care less. Not when it gives them easy access when they are all riled up like this.

Oscar drags her into his lap. The feeling of strong thighs underneath her in almost the right spot has her whimpering. “Didn’t realize you’re already so needy for us darling. Forgot how much seeing us drive turns you on.”

She nearly cries when Oscar pulls her underwear to the side and slips a finger through her slit. “Look at this Lan! She’s a mess already!” Oscar’s free hand grips Lando by the collar and pulls him closer; nearly choking him out in the process. When his fingers are pulling obscene sounds from her, he brings them away. Up towards Lando’s mouth which unlatches to suck on them eagerly.

The Brits eyes roll back as Oscar jams four fingers down the back of his throat just for the sake of it. “S’pose you’ve earned it tonight, Lan. You’re already a mess anyhow and I think you’ve been leaking since you got out of the car.”

Lando mumbles something around Oscar’s fingers. It’s unintelligible - or she’s too lost in her haze to comprehend anything. Having slotted down on Oscar’s thigh to get some kind of friction.

The sound of Lando’s belt buckle coming undone becomes louder than the engines. Then the wet sound of lips clashing together. The hand Oscar previously had in Lando’s mouth is now around his neck.

The same story time and time again. Lando goes by feel where Oscar exudes superiority in how he has them memorized.

She clocks the hand on her waist moving to the back of her head. Oscar switches to kiss her instead. The filthy kind - all tongue and teeth. It keeps her occupied long enough for Lando to shimmy his boxers just far enough down.

“I knew you were leaking.” Lando makes a weak noise at that. Oscar’s words seem to have that effect on him. Both of them - really. “I bet you like showing off for all these people, huh? The possibility of us being caught like this. You get off on the thrill.”

The boys help her reposition her boy. Oscar gets two of his fingers in her, hovering just above Lando’s cock. Which - to Oscar’s credit - He’s not wrong. Lando is leaking like a faucet that has a consistent drip. It is mesmerizing and should be illegal.

Oscar gets a third in her, dutifully stretching her open despite having to support her weight. Lando thrusts into the air out of impatience which earns a lovely smack to the side of his ass. “You should know better, Love, that all good things come with time.”

She feels empty for all of two seconds before her body is plunging down onto Lando’s cock. She can feel him twitching behind her - trying to remain still until given the go-ahead to move. His hands paw at the slope of her back and curve of her ass.

In front of her, Oscar is undoing his own belt. She should’ve realized sooner how he had positioned them. How the truck bed is conveniently long enough to let Lando work out his residual energy by thrusting into her while Oscar makes use of her mouth.

He’s always three moves ahead of them.

She leans down, ready for him without him even having to ask. “Spit,” He commands. She does it without hesitation.

Oscar makes use of the makeshift lube and gives himself a few strokes before motioning her forward. She unhinges her jaw and relaxes her throat and still - she gags.

“See Lando, patience works wonders.”

“Please Osc, please - I’m dying over here-”

“Go ahead baby, you’ve earned it.” Oscar chuckles.

They find a rhythm. When one is going in, the other is going out. She’s drooling all down the exposed skin Oscar is showing.

“Best. Fucking. Reward. Ever~” Lando punctuates each word with a particularly hard thrust. The sounds are ridiculous and they are lucky that the sound of engines revving is drowning them out. If anyone is watching - well - they are certainly getting a show.

Oscar’s voice cracks. “Fucking hell, you two look so good.” She concludes the walls of his resolve are starting to crumble. That the grip she has on his waist to ground herself is enough to make him snap and throw him over the edge.

“You like the show, Osc.”

“You could say that.”

Lando likes to be seen and Oscar likes to watch. She likes everything in-between that. To be the object of their affections and an element of desire. Something they covet enough to lose themselves like this.

Everything gets messier - if that was even possible. Oscar snaps his head back and grips the back of her head so he can hold her stead and fuck her throat. Lando grips her hips and sets an unrelenting pace. Each movement is sloppier than the last. Each moan is more pitched.

She swallows. Her throat constricts enough for Oscar to growl from somewhere deep and sum without any warning. The tears are streaming down her face as she gags on the new and sudden change of consistency.

He drags her off and gives her no time to recover. Simply lunging forward and nearly sending her crashing backwards onto Lando. His hand goes back to the Brits throat while his tongue goes so deep into her mouth that there is no way he can’t taste himself.

Lando is a mess of high pitched whines. “Please - please I’m close-”

She inhales desperately as Oscar unlatches from her mouth only to find the sensitive spot on her exposed collarbone. “Osc-”

“I could keep you two like this forever. Desperate and whiny. Leaking with the thought of how good it would feel to cum.” They are both letting out desperate sounds. “I bet that guy from earlier would have stayed away then. So consumed by us that he could smell it on you.”

“Yesyesyes - please-” She’s going to lose her mind. Lando might be closer than she is and yet he won’t slow down. There is nothing but this until Oscar tells them yes. Because it feels better waiting for it.

And Lando will always go by feel.

“You’ve earned it Lando, fill our girl up yeah? Make her cry harder.”

Oscar has to cover her mouth as everything goes white. Her ears are ringing - swimming in the sounds of their voices and nothing else. It’s white hot blissful nothing. No thoughts or anxieties, no worries about some guy making passes at her.

Here she knows the two men who want nothing but to see her smile and cry for their cocks. Which is a stark contrast considering - but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Oscar recovers the quickest. Swiftly jumping out of the truck bed to grab their extra blanket and hoodies. “I can’t really clean you two up yet, but will this do for now?” He shifts his weight between feet. Normally more prepared, ready to meet the needs of physical pains and emotional needs that come with the aftermath.

They both nod and excitedly wait for him to climb back up. “That… was amazing,” she laughs. Her voice broken and hoarse from her throat being used.

Oscar winces. “I need to get you some water.”

“Osc-”

“Yeah.”

“Relax! It felt good! It was great and we’re okay.” Lando gestures to the two who can barely move. Bodies still twitching from the overwhelming sensations. “Now we shall bask in the glory that is the ridiculous amount of cash we made tonight!”

“What are you gonna spend it on?”

“You, of course!” Oscar leans her into his side as Lando throws an arm around her shoulders for good measure.

Cars begin to drive past. Leaving for the night either to wherever they are staying or another race. They wave off some of the familiar faces and flip off the annoying ones. Yeah - she wouldn’t have it any other way.

598 notes · View notes

pparadiselost · 9 months ago

Note

could you write sae x reader x shidou? if not, then shidou x reader would be fine

and im absolutely inlove with dacryphilia.. so if you could include that too thanks ^^

deux et trois.

shidou ryusei x fem reader x itoshi sae your wild boyfriend has always been a handful, but him tagteaming you with a rather trusted teammate might be more than you can chew. warning(s): nsfw, dacryphilia, dubcon, exhibitionism, cucking, degradation (from sae) minors do not interact.

dating someone like shidou ryusei feels a lot like a dream come true in the conceptual sense. you could easily imagine a whole plethora of young women who would give up everything they ever knew to date a handsome, successful soccer player like him and to essentially live a guaranteed life of glamor and luxury. and this much was your reality, and it was a fact that you accepted with as much humility and gratitude you could.

you were never someone who enjoyed letting such superficial things get to your head and pump your ego up; you falling in love with him and him falling in love with you was nothing more than chance, and nothing on the objective level separated you from any other girl in the world.

and shidou treats you sweetly, a surprising contrast to his maniacal behavior on the playing field. he’s still energetic and gets a kick out of teasing you playfully whenever he gets the chance to, but everything he does shows that he cares for you. perhaps in that way you two are really meant for each other; he would never purposefully do anything to upset you, and everything he involved you with was because he genuinely thought it would be good for you.

his coworkers, be they opponents or teammates, also all treated you with a degree of respect. they were intimidating and constantly raring to go, as if each of them were starved beasts, but they knew that you were simply shidou’s lover but not him himself. you grew accustomed with some of them. isagi sometimes gave you a shy smile and a greeting, igaguri would beg you to tone down your boyfriend to no success, and even the icy rin would peer at you with his cold teal eyes and nod curtly in your direction.

but exceptions were always to be expected.

“hm…,” a callous voice hums to no one in particular from above you. “...i can’t say i knew what to expect from you, but this certainly wasn’t it, little demon. well, i suppose that is my fault for letting you have too much free rein.”

your core burns, and every part of your bare body prickles with heat and shame. you don’t know how this happened or what pieces fell into place to bring you here, but you were here nonetheless. shidou’s dick is stuffed into you, your boyfriend bucking his hips wildly into you while you’re perched helplessly on his lap, and your thighs are spread apart nice and wide to give the other man in the room a perfect view to how shidou’s cock stretches your pussy apart.

you recognize him vaguely. unlike shidou, this man’s face is unreadable and frosty. his jaw is set as if it were carved out of stone, beautiful but unapproachable, and long under eyelashes escort you mockingly upwards to his unimpressed eyes. his irises are the same shade of breathtaking teal that are rin’s, and your stomach flips.

“whaaaaaat, i thought i’d offer you the best!” shidou sings from behind you. you whimper as he leans forward, trapping you in between his arms and his toned chest. “c’mon, why are you acting so shy all of the sudden, sae-chan? if i brought you anything less than acceptable to your impossible standards, you’d call me all sorts of ugly names and kick me out!”

this whole thing is embarrassing. you’re already so shy about having sex with your boyfriend, let alone have sex with him while someone that might as well be a total stranger watch you bouncing on top of shidou’s dick like tomorrow doesn't exist. and you weren’t given much space to hide any of it either. the very instant you’d make an attempt to even close your legs, shidou would be spreading them right apart and bullying his throbbing length into you even deeper, as if to offer your stuffed cunt up to itoshi sae and brag about it to him.

sae frowns, and his pretty lips twist into something that almost looks like a scowl. the temperature in the room feels as if it’s mounting into a dizzying heat but also plunging into an arctic chill between the two men. “but to think you’d bring me your girlfriend… i’d be impressed, if it weren’t for the fact that you brought me such a perverted girl.”

your breath hitches in the back of your throat when he points an insult at you. you’d believe that sae hated you with an unspoken passion if it weren’t for the fact that he was also naked and you could see how his cock was hardening, his dick twitching slightly whenever you glance towards the midfielder with watering eyes and short-lived gasps escaping your mouth. still, his words hurt, and you can feel tears invade the corner of your eyes. you rapidly try to blink them away; you’re already ashamed of the fact that he’s watching you getting railed by shidou, let alone cry like a baby in front of him.

“‘m not- ‘m not a pervert-,” you somehow manage to choke out, and your chest immediately tightens. you sound more like an out-of-breath porn star than you do the normally sweet and assertive girl that you are, and your gut spasms with shame. fuck, fuck, fuck! this shouldn’t feel good, you really shouldn’t be getting off to something as wicked and shameful as this. but the throbbing in your core tells you otherwise; you’re enjoying being watched as shidou dicks you down mercilessly.

as if on cue, shidou laughs heartily. you grip at his arm when he snakes a hand down to pinch at your clit. heat jolts straight up your pussy, and you let out a strangled cry.

“but isn’t she beautiful, sae-chan? looks like you hit a nerve with what you said to her. she looooooves to act all shy and cute, but i’ll have you know that she’s really fun to play with.” he fucks his cock up harshly into you as if he’s making a point, and you’re practically drooling from the way he forces you to take it, your pliant walls molding to the rough lovemaking he’s showing you, all of the pleasure making you feel lightheaded.

you’re not sure what to do. you feel so good, you love having shidou’s cock inside of you. and the new angle of having him fucking upwards into you makes your pussy drool with anticipating, desperate to cum. you want him all over you: touching your bouncing tits, torturing your clit, making sure your pussy only feels good from having his length inside of you. but as much as you want to lose yourself to this world-shattering pleasure, you can’t really succumb to it because of how hyperaware you are of the little voyeur in front of you.

sae makes it clear that he’s observing every detail. his eyes glaze all over the curves of your body, and you shudder when he stares right in between your legs, where shidou’s fucking into you. it feels like he’s judging you, like he’s telling you that he clearly has the upper hand in the situation, and that you having sex with your boyfriend only exists for his amusement.

you try your hardest to bite back how much your eyes are watering. but everything feels too good, and you’re quickly crumbling in shidou’s arms. shidou’s doing his best to get you to cum. his mouth sucks all over your neck and leaves open-mouthed kisses on your skin, and you whimper loudly when he bites and sucks on your earlobe.

“n-not there…! please- ryu, i can’t take it! be nice to me… no- gonna cum-,” you moan out. you’re shaking your hips lewdly, and your inner thighs burn. but fuck, you’d be damned if you said shidou wasn’t making you feel good. like the dedicated boyfriend he was, he knew exactly what he needed to do to get you to fall apart. you’re crying out, and there’s a ring of frothy white forming at the base of his cock. his balls twitch under you, and your pussy clenches and tightens up ruthlessly around his girth when you start thinking about having him creampie you.

“gonna cum already? we just got started though! i promised sae-chan such a good show too…” shidou makes an exaggerated kissing noise, and one of his big hands squeezes encouragingly at your hips. sae lets out a quiet huff as if in disagreement, but there’s a few drops of prominent pre-cum that bead at his tip. you’re not sure if sae is a masochist or just downright prideful. probably both, but despite how red and angry his cock looks, he refuses to touch himself to the sight of you.

your vision is hazing over with tears. you really don’t want to cry, don't want to look weak in front of a stranger, don’t want to look like you’re falling apart this quickly. but trying to regain control of your body when so much is happening to you feels impossible, and everything is going to your head. your core is tightening up dangerously, and the pleasure is overwhelming every part of your mind. you whine and whimper, mewling like a wounded animal, and a few scalding hot tears slip past your lashline.

it doesn’t go unnoticed.

“are you… crying?” sae spits out the words as if they’re toxic and bitter in his mouth. you shake your head feebly and try to turn your face away from the redhead, but your body seems to answer instead of your mouth. your pussy clamps down on shidou with renewed vigor, and the boy lets out a gruff “fuck!” through his gritted teeth before laughing loudly and speeding his pace up.

you hiccup. “no- ‘m not crying- not so fast, ryu, please…! you’ll mess me up, you’ll mess up my pussy if you fuck me like that-!! ah- feels so good- you’ll kill me- i’ll die from having sex with you!”

more tears are streaming down your cheeks, leaving hot trails as they fall. sae’s eyes are blown open wide, and something akin to fear settles deep in your body when you notice how entranced he looks. it’s like he wants to gobble you whole, like a man possessed by something unholy, and you cower against shidou’s chest as if he’s able to provide any protection.

shidou giggles delightedly against your ears. “you’re saying such lewd things… you’re making me really happy, did you know that? yeah? is your boyfriend’s cock making you feel that good? gosh, you’re so naughty… i didn’t know you liked my dick that much.”

you sniffle, suddenly feeling as if all the strength was being sapped from your body. you can barely see as the tears fall freely from your eyes, staining your face. you’re aware of how awful you must look, turning into goo in shidou’s arms as every part of your body shakes. it’s horrible and vulnerable, but at the same time, it turns you on so badly with a high so unexpected that you’re scared you’ll get hooked on it. it’s the kind of pleasure that runs so deep, you know it’s going to ruin you the moment you let it fully take root inside of you.

“gonna cum- please- please, slow down- not so deep, ryu, not so deep! i can’t take it-,” you squeak out. your head lolls back weakly against shidou’s shoulders, and you moan when shidou captures your mouth into a deep kiss. his tongue swirls all around your defenseless mouth, and you sob and cry all throughout the kiss. your pussy won’t quit squeezing and hugging his cock, and being kissed through it only makes you tighten up that much more.

the friction is just so, so addictive. you want more. you need more. you don’t want anyone else to see you falling apart in such an unglamorous way, fucked dumb and reduced to tears over a man’s dick, but your boyfriend is determined to show you off to his friend and to rip an orgasm out of you one way or the other.

a strand of saliva clings to shidou’s mouth when he pries his lips off of you, and he glances over at sae with a smug grin. “uh-uh, none of that, babe. i know you can take it, know you can handle my cock. look at you! you’re doing so good… it’s like your pussy wants my cock more than you say you do- don’t lie to me. bet you want me to cum inside you too, fill that pretty hole of yours up with aaaaaaaaaaall of my semen. what do you think, sae-chan?”

“do you think a girl like that deserves it? look at her, crying over something as trivial as this. does the thought of being watched make you want to cry?” sae’s voice is as sharp and cold as ever, and the edge to his words make you sniffle. “what a dirty girl… it makes me almost pity her. almost.”

shidou pretends to pout, and he sticks his tongue out. you moan, your cheeks feeling sticky and hot from all of the dried tears smoothing over your skin. everything feels heavy and good, your pussy being pounded into a senseless mess from how rigorously shidou’s fucking his cock into you. it’s like he’s trying to force more and more of his cock up into your tight hole, attempting to spear himself all the way in until your hips hit the base of his cock, like he wants his tip to pry open your womb and flood you with all of his cum.

“i don’t know what else i expected out of the big meanie sae-chan… well, too bad that i’m the one that’s actually fucking her. you can be mean and awful all you want, but i think i want to cum inside of my girlfriend.” shidou laughs against the shell of your ear. a cold shudder runs down your spine when he nips at your skin again, your neck and face vulnerable to his teeth. “ooh, you’re tightening up against me again…! fuck- so fucking tight- so eager for cock, huh? yeah, i like this side of you sooooo much… you’re just sooooo cute when you can’t resist me!”

you sob openly, not sure who to turn to for help. sae won’t lift a finger, not when his tip is leaking angry pearly white beads of pre-cum and not when he’s more fixated on the fat tears welling at your eyes than anything else. you’re no better than a prey animal when shidou’s like this, determined to creampie you and imprint himself even further onto your pussy. no matter how much you writhe and try to catch a moment to breathe, he pulls you down even further on his cock and sends a jerk of hot pleasure straight up your crotch.

“cumming-,” you choke out, your words slurred out. if you were any more coherent, you’d be embarrassed with yourself for letting another man watch you orgasm this shamelessly on shidou’s cock, thighs pried and held open so that sae doesn’t miss a single detail of your pussy being spread apart and stretched out mercilessly on your boyfriend’s length. “ah- ryu- i can’t hold it in any more… your cock feels- feels too good…! ‘m cumming- ‘m cumming, i’m cumming- fuck- oh- ‘m gonna cum- gonna cum- gonna cum so- sooooo fucking hard…!”

your pussy clamps down like there’s no tomorrow around shidou’s dick when he angles his hips just right and yanks you down as far as he can down onto his lap. you let out a loud cry as heat rips through your body as if you’re made out of nothing. your brain is thrown into overdrive, your nerves and synapses working overtime to flood every inch of your body with pleasure and heat, your stomach furling in on itself almost painfully, pussy gushing lewdly as your juices soak shidou’s cock and your hole spurts and drools out your orgasm.

it’s like something inside of you breaks. sex with shidou always felt good, but something about this felt as if you had crossed a point of no return. you shudder and shake, reeling in the newfound pleasure. it’s like the pulsing nestled deep in your stomach pushes and pulls, like a second heartbeat tugging you downwards. it feels good, it feels so good, and you feel like a broken shell of something that was before, unable to push past the fog in your brain or the haziness in your eyes.

you can vaguely make out the sound of shidou’s adoring laugh, and you cry out once more when he grinds up against you, rocking his hips into your ass and keeping you stuck down and trapped on his entire length. you’re squeezing him so nicely, your pretty pussy all fluttering and desperate around him, clenching him and milking him despite how shy and insistent you are that you’re above all of this. but you aren’t, and everything in this room knows that.

“hah- ahhh, you’re gonna take it all, aren’t you?” shidou breathes, his voice suddenly high-pitched and tinged with a crazed lust he reserves solely for you. your breath hitches in your throat when he leans towards your face and buries his head into the crook of your neck, and he inhales deep, greedy breaths of your scent. his cock is about to burst, all swollen and thick and wanting nothing more than to stuff every inch of your cunt with his semen. “that’s my girl… take it all! it isn’t meant for anyone else!”

you nearly go limp in his arms when his cum gushes into you. you can feel it shoot straight into your stomach, quite literally flooding what feels like every part of your insides. it’s hot, and it burns. and yet some part of you inwardly croons at how good it feels, like your pussy was made to catch all of shidou’s cum and to store it deep inside, to feel it swirl around you and leak out of your pulsing entrance, dripping down shidou’s engorged length and joining with the rest of the ivory ring built up at the base of his cock from all of your lovejuices mixing with his as he fucked you like an animal gone wild.

shidou smiles to himself as he lets you sit there, with no choice but to be impaled on his dick, and he makes sure most of his cum is safely lodged deep into your insides before he maneuvers you expertly off of his length.

you feel weak, and your limbs dangle limply as you slump over onto the mattress. shidou presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head and wipes at your eyelids carefully, and you bite back a shudder when you see him lick your salty tears from his thumb. he looks down at you with a look laced with both love and desire, and you’re brought back to reality.

“i think i’ve given you a good show, sae-chan,” he coos, glancing towards the stoic redhead. “she’s all yours now! don’t have too much fun though, you hear? even though i like you quite a bit, it’ll make me sad to see my girl feeling too good from another guy’s cock.”

“your mind knows no limits,” sae breathes as if he’s annoyed with shidou, but he still steps towards you without any hesitation. you choke back a teary-eyed hiccup as he looms over you, and you let him grab onto your thighs and spread your legs apart. your cunt still feels spent and sticky, and globs of shidou’s pearly white cum drips from your fluttering hole.

sae’s adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly. you can’t tell if he likes the sight or not. he slots himself in between your spread legs, and he watches you with his pointed eyes. silently, carefully, like a snake laying in wait in the tall grass waiting for the moment you come down back fully to earth and understand the gravity of the situation you’re in.

your belly coils with the familiar thrums of arousal when his tip prods at your swollen clit. you let out a small gasp as sparks climb up your insides, settling somewhere deep in your stomach. you just had your brains fucked out by your boyfriend, your cunt spread apart by his thick cock, but you want dick inside of you again.

you wiggle your hips, and you think you see the edges of sae’s mouth twitch. he stares at you and the way shidou’s cum leaks out from your pussy and onto the tip of his cock.

“do you want it?” he asks plainly. you nod, knowing he’s going to be mean to you. he seems to get off on it, hurling insults at you and seeing your face stricken with tears. he seems like he’s just about to sneer at you, like he’s disgusted at the fact that he’s even in the same room as you, despite the fact that he’s literally grinding his slick cock against your sensitive folds.

“how awful. begging for another man’s cock right after having sex with your boyfriend… is this a part of some weird perverted fantasy you have? you two are perfect for each other, did you know that?” he clicks his tongue. you shudder uncontrollably. the edge to his words are sharp, and despite bracing yourself for it, you can feel hot tears kissing the corners of your eyes again. it hurts, it laces against your heart, but fuck, you’d be damned if you said it didn’t turn you on a bit.

your tears hang heavy off of your lashes, threatening to drip over your waterline, and for the first time since you’ve bared yourself to the two men, sae’s expression actually softens. you sniff pathetically, unable to form proper words, but he grabs at your hips. he leans in, and you stiffen, unsure whether to avoid him or to let him continue to come closer. you’re mesmerized by how unrealistically beautiful the redhead is: the fiery red strands of his hair are nothing like the icy turquoise of his eyes, and if you weren’t already so overwhelmed with the sensation of having an orgasm ripped from you and another man on top of you, you might have been starstruck truly.

his lips part slightly, and his tongue sneaks out from between. you clench your eyes shut, and something warm laps at your eyes, stealing your tears from your face.

pressure taps at your cunt, and you let your head go limp as the stretch of penetration slowly grips you all over. you should be tired, should be worn out, but as the dull pleasure flickers inside you again, you find a moan bubbling up in the back of your throat. god, taking dick feels too good for you to ever not want it this badly. whereas shidou is always quick and skilled at drawing out an orgasm from you in record speeds, sae takes his time in penetrating you. it’s like he wants you to feel the stretch, wants you to feel the presence of his cock as he slides himself into you, and while your walls envelop his girth fully, he laps greedily at your heady tears.

“ah- sae…! ah- please- fuck me…,” you choke out. he bottoms out inside of you, and you can feel his balls pressed up against your hole. one hand reaches down, and you clench up around him when two fingers start to slowly rub circles into your puffy clit. it’s simultaneously too much and not enough at once, feeling him play with your clit while not moving his cock. the tender wetness of his tongue gliding over your face makes your head spin, and your pussy won’t stop gripping onto his length.

he breathes over your cheeks, the hot breath leaving you shivering. “dirty girl… who said you can demand things from me like that? shidou might let you get away with things like that because he likes it, but i’m not an easy man like that.”

“please-,” your voice sounds strained and needy, unlike your normally sweet but still firm cadence. “having your cock inside of me feels good- wanna feel more of you, please… please fuck me! i wanna feel you thrusting into me- wanna feel it, wanna have more of your cock inside- please, sae, please…”

“you don’t get to tell me how to move,” he hisses. he throbs and twitches inside you, and you can feel his balls tense up against your ass. but he draws his hips back slowly, giving one slow stroke, and that’s almost enough to make you fall apart. you throw your head back and let out a drawn out whine, your cunt fluttering violently against his swollen cock. he’s being mean to you, he’s being so, so mean to you, but your pussy feels full and good when his dick’s kissing your deepest parts.

if shidou had been pounding into you, sae keeps you begging for more. he treats his dick as if it’s something for you to earn, despite how he grinds upwards into you, the leaking head of his cock pressing straight into what feels like the entrance of your cervix. he keeps degrading you, muttering words that swim straight through your ears, and you keep crying those beautiful pearly tears that mar your vision and stain your cheeks. it drives him crazy, to break down such an innocent, beautiful girl into the worst, senseless version of herself, and he makes sure you know it, feel every second of it.

his pace is a bit faster now, but far from the animalistic sex you need to feed this uncontrollable side of yourself. the sound of your bodies connecting is nothing short of obscene, and sae drinks it all up as if you’ve mixed it personally just for him. you might as well have; you were meant to be offered up to him like some kind of sacrifice on a silver platter from the start, before you were even aware of the predicament you would be in.

“harder- harder- want more- please, fuck me harder…!” you sob pathetically. it’s humiliating, having to beg for a man’s cock in such a demeaning manner. you know words alone can’t convince sae, so you press your aching thighs apart further, using your hands to press them closer to your chest. the change in your position has his cock hitting deeper and more roughly into you, and your moans go from desperate cries to throaty chokes. you feel like you’re suffocating over your own breath, but the way you buck your hips against sae’s proves that there are far more pressing things in your mind than self-preservation.

sae grits his teeth, and he slams his hips into you. his cock pumps in and out of your greedy hole, and your cunt grips onto him like it doesn’t want to let go. fuck—it almost makes sae mad over how good your body feels, especially after getting what feels like shidou’s sloppy seconds. his abs tense up as he sucks in a deep breath, the focus in his teal eyes starting to shake around the edges.

“thank you- thank you, thank you, thank you-,” you pant out helplessly when the full strokes are finally, finally where you wanted them to be at the start. you shake your head back and forth, entire body trembling and overwhelmed by the pleasure that consumes you. “feels so good- cock feels so good inside of me, sae- want to cum on it… want your cock to make me cum- make me pussy cum…!”

“you really are the worst,” sae laughs. his hair is sticking to his forehead, and despite how awful he is to you, he looks beautiful. “begging for another man’s cock in front of your boyfriend? don’t you have any sense of shame?”

“feels good-,” you weakly choke out, as if that was an excuse. you know shidou doesn’t mind. he was the one to drag you into this mess in the first place. sae really enjoys this farce, this holier-than-thou act, when everyone in the room knows that he’s just as twisted and depraved as you are. it takes two to have sex like this, and you sure as hell aren’t alone. “make me cum- please, i wanna cum…! i’ve been so good for you.”

sae hums to himself. his cock pulses inside of you. your pussy’s just as shameless as your mouth is, milking him every second he stays buried into your hole, and it feels like your inner walls are begging him for his cum too. you must really like being treated like this, your pussy filled up over and over again with cum, not caring if it was your boyfriend or a man that your boyfriend happened to feel comfortable handing you over to. what a greedy girl you were.

“you wanna cum?” he sneers. “do you think you deserve it? all you’ve done is lay there and cry and take my dick. so demanding…”

you shudder, seeing stars. you can feel your orgasm building up and laying in wait deep in your belly, just begging for a few more harsh thrusts to topple you over the edge. shidou had fucked you out so good before, and you needed a taste of that pleasure again. you already felt so good stretched out and humiliated like this on sae’s cock that you could only imagine how much better finally getting your release would feel.

“you’re so mean to me… just wanna cum-,” you sniffle out. your voice wobbles, and sae grunts when a fresh wave of tears threaten to overtake you. it’s embarrassing how a crying girl might be the thing that gets him to snap, so he grits his teeth and bucks his hips harshly into you.

it’s your fault. all of this is your fault. he can’t admit to himself that this turns him on, that seeing you sob and wail and writhe has him wanting to blow his fat load inside of you. that would be too much for him, to cum inside of you and then have you cry just from the sheer pleasure of it. to take dick so good that it makes you fall apart and bawl senselessly as if you’re his girl, not shidou’s.

“yeah, that’s right-,” he grunts under his breath. “go ahead and cum then. if you really want to end up as a mess on my cock, then i’m not stopping you. make a show for your boyfriend then, huh? let him see you crying and screaming from how good you feel on my dick. you have him to thank for landing you in this position to begin with.”

you swallow back a shaky inhale. your vision had been blurred over a long time ago, but right now, with your entire body weighed down with nonstop arousal, you feel like you’re seeing stars. it feels so good and it hurts, but it hurts in a way that has you moving your hips lewdly and wanting him to stuff your already cumdrenched pussy with his load.

he thrusts sharply in you. again and again and again, until his entire length is stretching you and bullying your cunt open, his cockhead slamming into your g-spot over and over until the pangs inside of your pussy start pounding against the inside of your skull. your moans are melting away into incoherent slurred noises, barely gasping out his name.

“sae- sae…! ohhhhh, fuck- fuck, so deep- so hard…” your body shakes, and your voice sounds unrecognizable. sae likes this too much, likes seeing how broken you are because of his own machinations. he grits his teeth, the bed shaking and his pace nearly falling apart, his thrusts messy and awful and everything you need.

you cum with a silent cry. your back arches, and your hands scramble to try to grip onto anything to steady yourself. your fingernails dig into your own flesh, your thighs aching and screaming in pain despite the numbing pleasure that crashes entirely over you. fuck, everything feels so fucking good, and your brain feels like it’s melting out of your ears as your orgasm grips every one of your synapses. tears glide down your face without any restraint, and your sobs echo throughout your ears as you turn into a truly fucked out mess.

sae grunts, his own voice low and muffled, when he feels your cunt clamping down on him and a sudden warmth engulfing his whole cock. his self control wavers when he feels you creaming around him, your pussy milking his cock. it’s like your walls are clinging to every inch, every ridge of his length and refusing to let go, pulsing all around him like you want him to unload inside of you and paint your insides completely white again. of course you do, you’ve been begging for it this entire time. being creampied once by your boyfriend isn’t simply enough for you anymore, sae knows, you need him to do it again and to overwhelm you with his twisted desire.

you gasp when he fucks you roughly through your orgasm. it’s almost too much, your stunned cunt keening with overstimulation when the faint sparks start flying again. sae mutters something you can’t quite pick up, and he slams into you hard, enough to have you recoiling backwards.

his cum explodes inside of you as he hangs his head, his breathing unsteady as he stays buried deep inside of you. it’s as if he wants to drown out shidou’s cum with his own, scalding lines of white cum. it’s blasphemous, how good it feels, and if sae wasn’t feeling so out of body right now, he would be mad at the fact that a mere girl—shidou’s girlfriend, no less—could knock him off of his high throne like this.

you don’t get any reprieve from the whole thing. sae yanks himself out of you the moment his grounded rationale seeps back into his brain, and you whimper in protest. your spent hole feels so empty without a cock to stretch you out, but you feel dazed and heavy and warm. their cum mixing together fills you up, and some of it leaks out of you in a lewd rivulet, dripping in such a tantalizing manner down the flesh of your ass.

sae leans over to grip your face harshly, tilting your face so that you meet his eyes. his hold on you tightens to an almost painful extent when he sees the final remnants of your tears swimming in a clear layer over your puffy eyes, the evaporated marks on your damp cheeks, your lashes wet from everything that you had faced.

you’re pretty, pretty when you’re stained with cum and tears and all of the filth that sae’s dumped onto you.

shidou slinks up behind him with his usual strange smile, and he snakes his arms over sae’s neck from behind. “what a good show, sae-chan! my girl’s amazing, isn’t she? look at her now… ooh, it makes me want to fuck her all over again.”

sae sucks in a deep breath as he watches shidou prance over to you to press a sickly kiss to your forehead, and his adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. shidou peers up at sae as if to mock him when he kisses your eyes, the taste of your salty tears spreading across the inside of his mouth.

it’s irritating. it’s annoying. his cock stirs again, and his lower stomach flares with warmth again.

was this the game shidou had planned from the start? sae didn’t care; the result wouldn’t have changed. the only certain thing now is the way these two men circle you like a pair of vultures descending upon their next meal, the hunger in their eyes primal and filled with an unspoken anticipation. you should be cowering away from the intensity, but you’re right there with them.

shidou giggles as a large hand caresses your bare knee. “that’s a good girl… now that you’ve taken each of us individually and sae-chan’s gotten all nice and warmed up, it’s time to get to the main event, don’t you think?”

“...the way you talk about it like it’s some game makes my skin crawl,” sae’s cold voice sighs. something sticky and hard brushes against your calves when two hands coax your legs open again, and your cunt clenches weakly with arousal, heat licking around your insides shakily. your cunt, still leaking with cum, is bared fully for the two men to enjoy in their own respective ways.

you close your eyes momentarily, your tear-filled vision finally turning to black.

“ready to take both of us at once?”

if you enjoyed my writing and would like to show appreciation, you can do so by donating to these vetted gofundmes to help families!

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #bllk #bllk x reader #bllk smut #ryusei shidou #sae itoshi #x reader #fem reader #my writing #house of solis occasum

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hollyhomburg · 2 months ago

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Prey Animals (1)

— Pairing: Yoongi x Jin, Yoongi x reader, Bts x reader

— Genre: Omegaverse, Mafia au, Polyamory au, Found family, Suspense, Eventual Smut, Enemies to friends to lovers, Angst with a happy ending, Hurt and Comfort,

— Summary: In a world where Beta's are rare, valuable, and often have more than one pack; Beta Min Yoongi does everything he can to keep his mafia heritage a secret from his primary pack. Little does he know he's not the only one who's living a double life.

— Words: 2.3k

— Warnings: Coffee shop au, Depression, hopelessness, grief and grieving, strangers to friends to lovers, referenced harassment, catcalling, Themes of poverty

— Check in at the end for my notes on this chapter! —

(Last Chapter)

Here's the thing; Someone always has to leave first.

Whether it’s through divorce or death, through separations happy and healthy (even if they hurt at first) someone always always leaves first. Sometimes it's easy, sometimes it happens naturally when a lover slides from living into the end and there is nothing to do but beg; please treat them gently, please hold them tenderly like I did.

But nothing is safe and nothing is holy when it comes to death. Death takes and takes and takes. Death keeps the people you love forever, even when you can’t.

Kim Seokjin often felt like he walked hand in hand with death, which was honestly a little annoying.

He’d much rather ignore how death seemed to follow him like a curse, lingering at the corner of every moment and in every hollow promise. He'd much rather have shucked death off like an ill-fitting shadow in favor of holding on to the people he loved for as long as possible. Love is that way; intoxicating, even though you know it’s going to end.

Kim Seokjin loves his pack whole lot. A fuck ton. Enough to spit in death's face, enough to burn buildings and salt cities, to bring the sky down upon anyone who dared to take them from him. An omega in love is a dangerous thing, and Kim Seokjin was already dangerous before he met his pack.

He loved them all desperately, even though each one of them had a secret.

Seokjin is the first one to fall in love with Yoongi, and while it’s happening, he never thinks about the other leaving. He doesn’t think about how he’ll go and leave Seokjin’s heart in wreckage. It never even crosses his mind.

For Seokjin, Min Yoongi comes just in time.

~-~

(6 Years Before, Seokjin)

Seokjin looks down at the text on his phone, the hiss of the expresso maker and it’s leaky connections a distant hum that grates on his brain. A welcome departure from the silence shadowing the coffee shop at this time of night.

Auntie <3 (10:26pm): I’m sorry, but we’re busy with the pup, you know how it goes, are you free to babysit anytime soon? Happy birthday anyway! Sorry we can’t make it that day!”

Seokjin knows his usually creamy omega scent is going rancid; he should maintain it for the sake of the customers that are bound to come into the shop at some point tonight. But he can’t manage it, looking down at his phone screen, the crack at the bottom. His heart in his throat feeling impossibly sharp.

There are hardly any people here at this time of night, haunting the red pleather seats or the dusty butcher block countertop that has seen better days. The dated Halloween decorations on the wall and the black and white checkered linoleum floor offer Seokjin neither company nor comfort.

He wishes he was at home, in his nest (Can you even call two curled up blankets thread bear and ancient a nest these days?), then this devastation would be easier to compartmentalize. But Seokjin is not so lucky no- Seokjin has to work.

God, what he wouldn’t give somedays to become a house omega. Seokjin should be a house omega, he’s pretty enough. Nice enough, smart enough. And yet-

The coffee shop he works at is open 24hr a day and it’s too early for midterms at the local college. Every hour or so someone comes in, a truck driver, or a late-night food delivery alpha with eye bags worse than his. Other than that, he’s on his own feet aching in his shitty old shoes.

Seokjin’s own hot chocolate with a triple shot of expresso goes cold on the counter. He likes the smell of the coffee more than the taste. But he needs the caffeine to stay awake. His body has never quite adjusted to the night shifts.

But Seokjin takes what he can get.

He looks at his aunt’s text. As if the inclusion of a few exclamation points makes him feel any better. As if an ask for babysitting (Something Seokjin usually enjoys) will be enough to dull the ache of being alone on his birthday in a few short weeks. Seokjin blinks away tears as he looks down at the text. Fighting away the clawing feeling in his neck, his throat closing up and his vision going blurry. It’s so pathetic to cry over this but it’s hard to imagine that just last year- Seokjin had more than enough people to celebrate his birthday with.

That’s the thing about dead parents, they have a tendency to make you emotional.

Seokjin walks to work because cars still make him dizzy, the jerk of them too fast reminds him of that night. Although he wasn’t in the car with his parents he still can’t so much as ride the train without thinking about it. The screeching impact fear of it all. He can tell himself at least it was quick, at least they didn’t suffer.

And yet-

when he’s not busy drowning in his grief, Seokjin gets by. He makes the minimum payment on his student loans that he can. Tolerates his shitty apartment with barely any furniture. He buys rice in bulk and sneaks’ bananas from the coffee shop when things get truly lean. It’s not terrible. He’s not homeless but his shoebox of an apartment doesn’t feel like home. In the basement below the ground floor, too damp and too dark. Things could be worse, and they could be a lot better. He could still have a family- still have a mom and dad.

It doesn’t matter to his aunt that she’s the only family he’s got left, it doesn’t matter to her that if he doesn’t spend his birthday with her- he’s going to spend it with no one. He feels as warn through and unwanted, as fragile and in decay as his shoes and the hole in the heal, the graying laces tangled into a bow.

If he looks in the reflective glass of the pastry cabinets, he can almost see a pretty omega staring back at him. Can almost recognize his own face beyond the deep bags under his eyes, beneath the ridges of his bags and the downward quirk of his face, muscles atrophying with nothing to smile about.

Seokjin should smile more; it would keep him from getting jowls. His beauty might as well be his only attribute that matters to society. Not his degree or his intellect. When Seokjin has time to feel bitter about it, he tells himself things could be worse.

He could be an alpha.

Greif and money are wearing Kim Seokjin thin. Sure, he’s legally an adult but he feels so childlike, full of hopes too high and a sadness too deep. School and his chances at an internship have long dried up, hopeless and directionless. Most of his Uni friends moved away for bigger and brighter prospects. And there’s not a soul to help him navigate life after college, let alone tell him what to do with his bullshit psychology degree.

The world turns on, but Seokjin can’t. Stuck in his grief like a statue. Constantly missing out on what could have been.

He should have believed his mom when she told him that he'd need to go to medical school or choose a different specialty. Should have believed his teachers when they told him that abnormal psychology was an oversaturated and hard to break into field. That's the thing about dreams- they're elusive, effervescent, and often just out of reach.

But it won’t be long before he has a reason to smile. Just a few more minutes now, just wait a little longer. This is the last moment Seokjin will ever be lonely. The last moment for the rest of his life, he just has too-

The bell dings but Seokjin doesn’t hear it. He doesn’t hear the footsteps either until they’re already rounding the counter, sliding open the hinge on the countertop pass through with a rusty shriek that makes Seokjin flinch. Lips open, greetings hover nervously on the tip of a tongue.

“Jesus Christ-”

Seokjin jumps and it’s more out of instinct than any fear. Anyone would jump. Seokjin has definitely not seen him before; Seokjin is definitely the only person who usually works the graveyard shift. Prefers it this way, there’s less people.

This stranger is so pretty that Seokjin does a double take, hand over his heart, thundering beneath his long pretty omega fingers. He’s got long hair; it lies over a forehead in a small curve. His dark cat like eyes flash at odds with his broad shoulders and even bigger and more disproportionate hands beneath an old flannel. His mouth twists downward with unintended mirth.

The strangers scent fluffs over him, chocolate- the kind that drips on your tongue like smores at a campfire or from a chocolate in your pocket. Warmed by the heat of a hand that’s not yours.

This stranger smells like hot coco on the coldest of days but Seokjin still shivers. A Beta. He can taste it on the back of tongue. There is a separate undercurrent to his scent. A silvery slipperiness to it.

What is a Beta doing here? Surely he has better things to do than grace Seokjin’s corner of the world right now.

“Hi ugh- you’re Seokjin, right?” Seokjin blinks, first down at his shirt to check he’s not wearing his nametag and then across the counter at Yoongi. He’s too pretty to be shy, and beta’s shouldn’t be shy at all. Yet a faint blush covers his cheeks. he’s got a face a bit like a cat, a bit like Gigi from howls moving castle. “Sejun hired me over the weekend, to help with the holidays.”

“Holidays?” Seokjin asks, eyebrows furrowing.

“You know- Halloween and then Christmas and stuff.” The beta goes plucky, the hair at the back of his neck sticking up like he actually is from some studio Ghibli movie. “I ugh- I’m Yoongi.”

He holds out his hand. Seokjin takes it. Yoongi’s hands are just as big and warm as they look.

“Jin.”

Seokjin checks his phone again when Yoongi’s not looking, as he puts on his black apron, and combs through his hair with a finger, anxious.

Sure enough- there is an open but unanswered text from his manager Sejun when he looks for it. Warning him to expect a new coworker. Not much else. Seokjin must have forgotten to answer.

“Did Sejun bother to train you?”

“No.”

“Have you ever worked at a coffee shop before?”

“No,” Seokjin is already looking dubious, but Yoongi is quick to reassure him, “but I want to learn.”

“Okay, then your first job is to make me an americano to apologize for startling me.”

Yoongi huffs, and its sounds close enough to a laugh that it has Seokjin’s instincts perking up. Stupid omegan instincts that like pretty things. Instincts Seokjin has long buried in self-preservation and grief.

Seokjin is not an introvert. Seokjin needs people like plants need sunshine. Needs touch and love just as much as any other omega in their prime. It’s getting it that’s always been an issue. But Seokjin does not let himself have the things he needs often. Seokjin does not let himself do an awful lot of things. Like walk home at night more than he has too or wash his pj’s after wearing them only once.

It’s easier to boil love down to something trivial like laundry.

Seokjin shows Yoongi how to operate the expresso machine and the oven they use to heat up the baked goods (mostly frozen, some baked) in the small kitchen in the back. Everything. Showing him the ropes.

They both leave when the sky is just starting to lighten, not light enough that all the nightcrawlers and alphas that linger on the street corners do not recede at the sight of the oncoming morning, but daylight is a distant promise in the night sky. Yoongi thanks him for showing him the ropes and Seokjin tells him he’ll see him in 12 hours, and they go their separate ways.

Seokjin always passes a few alphas and night crawlers on his way home. The coffee shop is just on the edge of where gentrification turns bougie but Seokjin like most poor omega’s his age- lives on the other side of town. he always contends with a few of alphas of an unscrupulous nature and tonight is no different. Usually keeping his head down keeps him safe enough.

Maybe he’d get harassed less if he wasn’t pretty. The very thing that earns him the tips that quite literally keep him off the street, the pretty tuck of his white shirt and the bit of gloss to his plush lips earn him unwanted attention. He scrubs the lip-gloss off, puts his hood up, and walks as fast as he can. It’s lucky that no one’s ever done more than catcall him.

It’s not like anyone would care if something bad happened to him anyway.

He can’t cross the street to avoid all of them, there are gangbangers on every corner between here and his apartment. He’s tall enough to be considered an alpha from a distance. Seokjin just hangs his head and tries not to look too conspicuous. Turning away from them so they can’t see the omegan curves to his face and his eyes and lips, the things that usually betray him.

It hardly ever works.

The alpha’s growl out their taunts, their insults masquerading as compliments and threats disguised as flirting. “I’d love to get my knot in that, you tight pretty?” one of the alpha’s sneers, Seokjin ignores it. He’s got a few inches on the alpha, but alphas are naturally stronger than omegas. If there is a fight, Seokjin will have to run.

“Bet you’re tight and warm and wet down there huh? Wanna give us a taste? I’ll make it worth your while. How much?”

Seokjin turns away from the streetlights and walks quicker.

(Next Chapter)

~-~

(Read the first Version of this story Here)

Notes:

- It was a bit of a struggle to write small ‘wrong’ things into Seokjin’s character arc. Because I realize that he is supposed to be a psychopath who doesn’t know he’s a psychopath. But the beginning is so sweet I almost didn’t want to change it too much.

-I wonder if my own personal interjections to the story are welcome or annoying. I guess we’ll wait and see! You’ll tell me if you hate it lol

-Some of these chapters are going to be longer than others! But I want to split it up more thematically than anything else. Unlike the other version where I went by every 10k (unless something thematically dragged it over the line) this version is split up by mini arc.

-Ahhh reading it back I wonder if I made Seokjin’s beginning too depressing?

-I realized while editing this story that if I ever made the jump into traditional printed publishing that I’d have to do more work to set up the Omegaverse aspects of the story- and that’s what a good part of this chapter is doing- setting up the societal expectations of omegas in this universe and the challenges that they face.

-Looking back on this I also can’t help but think that the m/c was probably an omega in a similar position to Seokjin and she actually took the chance that the alphas offered to get out of poverty via a relationship and it so severely backfired on her.

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kayhi808 · 5 months ago

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Please feel free to ignore this if you have done this already but your recent post made my day that it’s got ideas HAHA. Thank you for sharing us this Bucky and his family!

Anw, what if it’s the reverse? Abby doesn’t really understand much of her mama and bucky’s dynamics but she knows, Bucky is her’s and mama’s. AND her mama is HER mama and bucky’s Doll. They belong with eachother. What would happen if there are scenarios where men or even young adults find her very attractive (she’s a milf like that) and/or talk abt her and flirt with her? Will she confront them like what she did with Megan’s mom? Or call help from Bucky? Or Both?

Thank you for this Ask! Abby doesn't like other men giving you attention either. In her brain, the 3 of you need to be together. No one is going to bust that up. Haha! Bucky may have to step in.😉

You and Abby are at a coffee shop waiting for Bucky. His meeting is running long and The Tower is just around the corner. You order yourself an iced tea and a juice for Abby. The young barista included a lemon cake when you picked up your order. "Oh, I didn't order this."

He winks at you and smiles, "It's on the house."

Blushing, you thank him and walk Abby to the benches outside. You catch Abby frowning at you. "What's wrong?"

"Who dat man?"

"A worker at the coffee shop "

"Why he winks at you like dis?" She blinks.

"I don't know, maybe because he was being sneaky and gave us a lemon cake."

With raised eyebrows "Did he steals it?"

Probably. "No, I'm sure he bought it for us. If you don't want it, I can eat it myself."

"No! I wants." Abby laughs and does a happy wiggle.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" You look up and a man is asking to sit on the the other side of the bench. You look around and you and notice most of the seats are taken. "Sure." You gather Abby closer to you.

He looks down at Abby, mouth sprinkled with crumbs. She just stares at him."That looks really good." Abby nods and wipes her mouth off on her arm. Looking back at you, "She's adorable."

"Thank you," you smile down at Abby.

"Like mother, like daughter." Abby frowns at that. "I'm Mike." He hold his hand out to you.

"Stranger danger, Mama!"

You bite your lip, holding back a smile. "You're right, baby."

Mike laughs, "Sorry. Smart girl. We can still talk and get to know each other so we aren't strangers."

"Bucky not liking that."

"Who's Bucky?"

"He's my Papa & he's big and strong and angry."

You laugh, "Baby! I'm sorry, I am seeing someone." To Abby, "Finish your cake."

Mike produces a business card, "If you change your mind."

"Mama not changing mind!" Abby mumbles around a mouthful of cake.

In the blink of an eye, the card is snatched out of Mike's hand. "Change her mind about what?"

Abby's face lights up with a smile, "Papa!" She launches herself off the bench before you can stop her. Bucky effortlessly snagging her mid air. The Winter Soldier glare never leaving poor Mike.

"He talk to Mama & she said she seeing someone so he try give her card. If she change her mind."

"is that so," looking at the card, "Michael?" Bucky flicks the card back at Mike and he flinches.

"S...sorry. It was a mistake." He quickly gets up to leave.

Abby cackles at his retreating back.

"Was that really necessary?"

Bucky leans down to kiss you, "Evidently it was." Turning to Abby, "Did you just call me Papa?" The Winter Soldier glare is no where to be found, but in its place is a look of joy and wonder.

"Yous my Papa Bear. Growly and scary," squeezing his face between her palms, "but I no needs be scared cos you my Papa. You scared them nots me."

"That's right, my girl. You never have to fear me." Bucky hold her close and presses a kiss to her forehead.

@waywardhunter95 @rebeccapineapple @ordelixx @onceithough @thezombieprostitute @ilovetaquitosmmmm @julvrs @unaxv @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @winterslove1917 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @mrsnikstan @hisredheadedgoddess28 @itsteambarnes @otterlycanadian @purplecolordeer @samsgirl93 @buckitostan @littleredwolf @mcucatlady @silas-aeiou @hzdhrtss @florie1 @thecubanator2 @enchantedbarnes @selella @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @cjand10 @pancake-05 @ozwriterchick @crazyunsexycool @baw1066 @nommingonfood

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #abigail rose

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jaysgirlx · 1 year ago

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Airport Au!Jason gets coffee spilled on him right before he boards his flight back to Gotham and of course, he's the victim of hot coffee spilling all over his crotch. The good news is, Jason didn't suffer any burns and you were quite apologetic to him, nevertheless, he was still pissed at you and those clumsy hands of yours. To make matters worse, the two of you are seated next to each other on a 15-hour flight.

Airport Au!Jason lets you have the inside seat even though you ruined his favorite Wonder Woman t-shirt and kinda fucked up his black jeans. He even puts your suitcase away for you and he has no fucking clue why. Jason knew he didn't help strangers like this, not just be nice and flirty to girls like Dick did. But didn't do things like this for no reason especially not for pretty girls who- wait did he just call you pretty? Oh, he was so fucked.

Airport Au!Jason can't tell if he's mad at you or if he wants you. To him those feelings could be the same, he has no problem with wanting to make out with the girl who spilled coffee on his shirt. He didn't see a problem with wanting to make you his, it was an accident and you apologized a million times so maybe he should just forgive you, especially since you actually tried to clean his crotch. His self-control stopped him from letting you, but now he wishes he had let you.

Airport Au!Jason gets immediately bored after the plane takes off, he hadn't pack much because he likes to travel light. When his gaze falls in your direction, he notices that you are reading and annotating one of his favorite Sylvia Plath books and quickly starts to chat you up. You immediately light up when you find out he loves reading, especially classics and poetry. The two of you quickly got acquainted and introduced yourselves which was quickly followed by an apology. You didn't think boys who were smart and hot truly existed, you thought those were myths but Jason Todd was indeed very real.

Airport Au!Jason lets you nap on his shoulder and even orders your lunch for you so that you'd at least get some food when you woke up. You wake up to the boy thumbing through your annotations. You point out your favorite scenes and quotes and go into detail about what you thought their meanings were, well at least to you. You rambled for what might've been a good hour and fuck, Jason knew just by hearing you talk like this, he wanted to put his lips on yours so bad. Maybe shut you up for a second, not because you rambled but because your lips looked so delicious like he could devour them if he wanted. Maybe it could last more than a second, but that depended on what you'd let him do to you.

Airport Au!Jason can't help but want your attention sooo bad. He's chatting you up, making you laugh and for fucks sake why was your laugh so cute?? Why were so pretty to him? Why did you make him question every part of his being? It was like you were this missing piece he had finally found and he needed that piece. He needed you.

Airport Au!Jason jokingly warns you he's not good for you but that only makes you tilt your head with a big grin. You told him that you didn't want a "good" guy. You wanted someone morally grey, someone who understands that just because you've done bad things doesn't mean you're a bad person. You of course cleared up that you didn't support racists, homophobes, and such but you weren't past dating a criminal or even a vigilante if they matched your vibe. For a moment, Jason felt like you already accepted who he was, that you would still want to know him as the Red Hood. He hoped that maybe that was the truth.

Airport Au!Jason sneaks you into first class, pulling the "Bruce Wayne is my dad" card with the flight attendants, who swoon when Jason brings out the stolen Amex card. He'd give it back to Bruce another day or maybe just sneak it back into his wallet. The reason he gets you in so you can sleep comfortably because he knew there would be free seats (he's done this a bit too many times). You told him you didn't need to, that you liked napping on his shoulder, that he was enough but he said you deserved the luxury treat, not crappy shoulder. And it made you laugh because it was so cheesy, and Jason wished then and there, that he could hear you laugh like that for the rest of his life. Now, did he hate having to pull the "Bruce Wayne" card? Yes. Did he regret it? Hell no. Would he do it again? Yes…

Airport Au!Jason lets you play with his hair and even touch his neck scar while you lay in first class. You graze your finger across it and you feel him tense until he relaxes when your fingers lace with his. He lets you believe the white parts are dyed and tells you the scar was from a kidnapping incident that happened in his teens. You don't question him on it but instead, ask him if he still wants to know once the two of you land in Gotham. He looks at you with a cheesy grin. He says he doesn't have his phone on him but you could write your number on his arm. You knew he was joking but he was just so attractive. He enjoys the feeling of one of your hands combing his locks and the other intertwined with his.

Airport Au!Jason falls asleep with you in first class and when you two finally wake up, you decide to check how much time is left on the flight: 2 hours. A soft whine left your lips, from the thought of having to wait a a little longer to be able to kiss him. You could just tell Jason wasn't a fan of pda and if you did kiss him you'd definitely want it to be private. You told yourself to be patient and you knew you could be just a little longer, just for him. Jason on the other hand was an impatient asshole who ached for you, especially after hearing that goddamn whine. Were you trying to tease him? Because if you were it was definitely working. Jason couldn't wait 2 hours.

Airport Au!Jason brings you into the first bathroom and locks it behind him, even after receiving about of weird looks. He kisses you in with your legs almost instantly hooked around his waist and his arms holding you up against the wall. Your arms are wrapped around his neck bringing him as close as possible, while you clawed at his clothes. You weren't exactly sure where this was going but you wanted that coffee-stained shirt off him. You hooked your fingers on the ends of his shirt whining desperately to feel him. Maybe those clumsy hands of yours were good at something. And when he finally breaks the kiss, he only mutters out these words just for you, "Wanna help me get out the shirt you ruined, sweetheart?"

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abyss-seer · 3 months ago

Text

Soul Soothing Messages

Pick any one of the 6 piles

****Viewer Discretion is Advised****

Tarot Readings are meant for entertainment purposes only, take them as a second opinion only. The purpose of these readings is to bring insights into a person's life, hence only take the guidance with your own free will. Tarot Reader is/will not be held responsible for the viewer's actions. Viewer Discretion is strictly advised and to be adhered to while watching tarot readings for themselves.

USE YOUR DISCERNMENT. DO NOT FOLLOW ANYTHING BLINDLY. THESE READINGS ARE MEANT FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY

*******INDIVIDUALS SEEKING LEGAL, MEDICAL, OR ANY PROFESSIONAL ADVICE ARE ADVISED TO SEEK PROFESSIONALS OF THESE RELATED AREAS. ********

Individuals seeking mental, emotional, or psychological attention are advised to seek mental healthcare professionals, or the National Health Care Helplines of their respective countries and consider the opinions, resources, and guidance of these professionals as their first priority and the tarot reader's words as a friendly opinion or as a friendly advice

Pile 1

Confirmations: Golden hour - JVKE, Magic Shop - BTS, Moon - Jin,Bts

Seaweed grass, neck problems, back problems

Dear Pile 1,

My loves, you are amazing, radiant, and beautiful exactly as you are. There’s nothing you need to change about yourself to win the love of someone special. You’ve never had to become someone else or mold yourself into a fictional ideal to be worthy of love. True love comes when you are unapologetically yourself.

Pile 1, take care of yourself—especially your neck and back! Don’t strain them by staring down at your phone all the time, and maybe turn down the blasting music in your ears. There’s a whole world around you waiting to be explored.

Why let the fear of judgment hold you back? Break free from the imaginary cages you’ve built and step into the light. The internet might feel limitless, but it’s still another cage if you use it to hide from the real world. Are you constantly doubting your looks or imagining what kind of person you think others want you to be? Stop overthinking!

The world will love you for who you are. There are people out there who won’t judge your views—some will even find them inspiring and find you incredibly attractive. You have unique perspectives, and people can learn from them. So, ask your questions openly, share your thoughts freely, and embrace this world as a classroom where we are all students, each learning at our own pace.

Take a moment to reflect on what you want in a soulmate and the kind of people you wish to surround yourself with. Let this be a reminder that your authentic self is enough. There are people who will love and accept you wholeheartedly for who you are, who you’ve been, and who you will become.

No matter what happens, someone out there will always cherish you just as you are.

With love,

Your Friend

Abyss Seer

Pile 2

Confirmations: very mindful very demure trend, very subtle, slow and steady, stand offish, emblem, victorious, knowledgeable, September, Virgo Season, Virginia

Dear Pile 2,

Contemplative, introspective, patient, victorious, revolutionary—how many more labels do you need to define yourself? Do you really have to carry the weight of this "serious identity" of being a leader? Do you think anyone—or anything—could truly define who you are?

Why look at yourself through a stranger’s lens? Does that perspective truly capture your essence? Who are you at your core? Is the person within you the one calling the shots, or have you let someone else take the reins? Even Girish (Lord Shiva) himself couldn’t define you—only you can. (Some of you could love mountain strolls, ‘Girish’ means one who resides in mountains. Maybe some of you worship a mountain deity like a Shinto deity)

This isn’t something a tarot reader can tell you because deep down, you already know it. So, what’s holding you back? Are you unaware of your own potential? Haven’t you seen the hurdles you’ve overcome to reach this point in your life?

Why feel embarrassed about being in a better position now? Why isolate yourself when you’ve already earned your victories? Do you really need to shrink yourself to fit into the mold of others, or should those trying to limit you rise to meet your level? Which path sounds more empowering and true to growth?

Pile 2, stop accommodating people who judge others based on superficial flaws. Instead, move at your own pace, staying true to your ethics, standards, and values. Ask yourself: what do you really love to do? What would you pursue if judgment didn’t exist?

Because here’s the truth: it’s possible to live that life. And not just live it—leave a legacy that others will remember. Your soul’s unique signature is meant to inspire, to create waves in the world.

So, go after what excites you. Reignite that spark. Make life worth remembering.

With love,

Your Friend

Abyss Seer

Pile 3

Dear Pile 3,

Alright, Pile 3, who’s the person that’s stolen your heart? Do you feel sad about not being noticed or seen by them? Does this person inspire you in some way? Do they leave you at a loss for words?

Aww, my sweet little angels, don’t be sad! Your heart doesn’t deserve to carry this kind of ache. Let me tell you something: you’ll never know what could happen unless you express your feelings.

This lesson applies to more than just love—it’s the same with your career. Some of you might have experienced hardship, maybe even violence or exclusion, possibly because of poverty or feeling left out. These moments can make you question your path in life. When it comes to love, you’ve been hesitant to take risks. And in your career, you still feel uncertain.

The real issue, Pile 3, is that you’re not standing up for yourself. You fear judgment and hesitate to take bold steps. Your Manipura Chakra (solar plexus) and Visuddha Chakra (throat) are calling out to you. They’re urging you to be honest, make a strategic move, and take charge of your life.

Remember your Shakti! You are not here to be preyed upon or diminished. You’re here to walk this Earth like a tigress—strong, proud, and full of grace. You have the power to reclaim your rightful space and radiate light onto others.

Now is the time to cleanse yourself of negativity, self-doubt, and unrequited energy. Clear your mind, space, and body of anything holding you back. Take a moment to stretch, breathe deeply, and let happiness fill your soul. Go for a walk, feel the freedom, and let yourself reconnect with your purpose.

I promise you, success is within your reach—whether it’s in love, your career, or life itself. Take a step back, relax, and trust that Devi Durga is with you, guiding you toward your light. Embrace who you are, do what excites you, and show courage when it’s needed. Take risks, stand up for yourself, and trust that you’re on the right path.

You’ve got this, Pile 3! Shine bright, take the leap, and know the way will reveal itself.

Good day, my loves. Bubbye!

Your Friend

Abyss Seer

Pile 4

Confirmations:

Film based, happy hare,638,368,63,36,93, multiples of 3,21, sea monsters, percy Jackson, someone’s nickname could be or mean ‘monkey’, mooncake, mid-autumn festival,707,909,yoy,LOL,

This pile reminds me a lot of PJ series and all the sea goddess, Beren and Luthien, Lord of Rings and Hobbit, 3 letter palindrome with letter ‘o’ in the middle could be significant, Having Strict teachers and parents growing up,Sailor Moon, religious leaders like pandits or priests forcing culture on you, Character of Father Nelson from Hilda Furracao, Guru Dronacharya disabling someone's growth to enable someone else.

Dear Pile 4,

Are you constantly changing yourself to be loved by others? Are you holding on to the idea of a “dream partner” from childhood, wishing for someone as idealistic as the fantasy? Do you find yourself torn between loving the real person in front of you and the ideal person in your mind? My loves, isn’t it exhausting to hold people to the impossible standards of your favorite anime or fictional character?

It’s time to stop wasting your energy trying to change people or resenting them for not meeting those expectations. Real love doesn’t come from forcing others to fit your mold. Why do you feel the need to change others? Is it because you struggle to accept them—or maybe even yourself?

Are you in connections where you pretend to be someone you’re not? Does the idea of looking beyond the “mist” of a perfect life seem unbearable? Pile 4, take a deep look within. Where is this mist coming from? Is it the people around you or fears rooted in past trauma? Whatever the source, clarity begins with you.

For some of you, this mist may stem from childhood expectations. Perhaps a mother figure or other authority figures imposed strict control, criticized every small mistake, and denied you the space to fail and learn. Maybe decisions were made for you, leaving you fearful and indecisive despite knowing what you needed to do.

I sense echoes of Eklavya from Indian mythology but in a negative context —someone who was subservient and maladaptive because they weren’t given the freedom to adapt or grow cause their thumb was cut off to stop their growth. You might have faced harsh punishments, controlling parents, or strict teachers, which instilled meekness and fear of failure. For some, even religious or cultural traditions may have felt stifling, leaving little room for individuality.

Pile 4, I’m so sorry if you endured any of this. Do you settle for what you’re given because you were taught that’s all you deserved? Have past experiences, like being bullied for your accent or identity, left you afraid to ask for more or show your true self? (I am specifically getting Kim Kardashian's NYC accent, its as if someone was bullied for their accent which ended up in them never asking questions again out of embarrassment, aww pile 4, iam so sorry for what you went through. This should have never happened, I hope you know that and beleive me when I say so. It should have never happened you, alright? Love you so much 🩷)

Listen to me: you don’t have to be the person others forced you to become. Let your soul breathe. Release yourself from expectations and labels that don’t align with who you truly are. Life is full of gifts if you choose to see them. Heal from your fear of delays and failure. Let go of hyper-independence and control.

You weren’t meant to carry the weight of the world alone. Let others help you. Don’t let past bullying or harshness keep you from caring for yourself or connecting with others. Recognize these patterns, ask yourself the right questions, and start your healing journey.

There is help out there—mental health hotlines, domestic abuse support, and professionals ready to assist you. Please know you never deserved to be treated poorly. You are unique and worthy of expressing your true self. Don’t suppress your light; don’t let these experiences turn into controlling tendencies or victimization.

Pile 4, you are bigger and better than the labels and burdens placed upon you. Let go of the harshness of the world and embrace the beautiful soul you were born to be. Celebrate yourself and find joy in the things that resonate with your spirit.

You might enjoy songs like “Just Right” by GOT7, “Nunu Nana” by Jessie, or “Born to Be” by Nano. Let them remind you of your worth and strength.

With love,

Your Friend

Abyss Seer

Pile 5

Confirmations:

child,baby,chidren,111, zen meditation, earth sign, mother mature, river goddess, mother gaia, a very beautiful meditative spot, a very good ecosystem, jeji,jiji,gg,gigi, shaktivism, devi energy coming through,

Jeju island in korea, best childhood memory relating to cellphone ringtone, come hard at me, hard carry got 7, alternating current, bird sound ringtone, nokia cellphone, 1980s to 1990s, remembering taking a phone call of a beloved family member, message of concern, coffin, news related to someone’s death, one question that doesn’t change in your mind,Rishab or bishop, motherly nature, very organized.

Pile3 and pile 1 could be significant for you

Dear Pile 5,

It seems you might be in a very vulnerable place right now. I’m sensing deep emotional struggles, and for some, even thoughts of self-harm. My dear Pile 5, if this resonates with you, please seek help immediately. If you’ve experienced abuse, emotional suppression, or even substance struggles, know that you are not alone. There are people who care, support systems available, and resources like suicide helplines to turn to.

If you feel lost, start small—reach out to a trusted friend, a past colleague, or someone you feel safe with. Don’t let the doubts planted in your mind stop you from seeking the help you deserve. You are worthy of healing and support.

For those of you who have endured this pain, justice will come—but don’t focus on revenge or the past. Instead, focus on you. Build yourself up, prioritize your mental health, and reclaim your strength. Therapy, support groups, and professional help can be lifesaving. There is no shame in seeking help—it is an act of courage.

You may feel like your dreams, energy, and hope have faded, but that’s just an illusion. You still have strength within you to start over. Listen to “N’y Pense Plus” by Tayc or “Daisy” by Stereo Dive Foundation—they might bring some solace. Remember, no matter how exhausted or defeated you feel, this heaviness is temporary, not your reality.

If your mind replays past memories or clings to moments of comfort during abuse, that’s your trauma talking. Be patient with yourself. Trauma takes time to heal, but healing is possible. If there’s someone you trust—someone whose words could lift you up—reach out to them now.

If you’re in an abusive relationship or situation, get out of it right away. Your intuition already knows who to turn to for safety and support. Listen to that voice inside you. You deserve love, care, and peace. Don’t carry this burden alone—talk to someone, even if it’s online. Vent, share, cry, but don’t keep it bottled up.

Pile 5, I love you, and I want you to take care of yourself. Healing starts when you reach out and let it all out. You are stronger than you think, and your life is worth fighting for.

Take care, my dear. I’ll leave you with this: you can and will rise again. You are not alone.

With love,

Your Friend

Abyss Seer

Pile 6

Confirmations:

Nature sound, bird watching, chirping of birds, nightangle, happy hare song, I need u by bts, run by bts, something about doing drggs in bathtub, Suffered by a bunch of goons, heart shapes, dwarf, someone breaking up on phone due to the other cheating, Taste – Sabrina Carpenter, Someone saying they have been known to share their (cookies) or (peonies) everywhere, hiring a Private Investigator to uncover that the person was lying about their misery to get money out of you 🫠🤷🏽‍♀️, Seven by Jungkook, you could want the cookie or peony seven days a weeks, 24x7, 365 days, s*x addicted, Dimple - BTS but all of it feels heavy illegal so it increases the taboo, Serenity by Jimin. I channeled "Kpop Singers, Kpop Band and Kpop Man" in my head, wanting to commit some sort of treason or illegal deed (or idk make them cheat ) for a lover, 100 ways by Jackson Wang, Pretty Please - Jackson Wang, Pretty Please by Dua Lipa, Someone's beggin someone to bite the forbidden apple, What the heck! Pile 6 you are interesting af, seems like you are hanging on the line between good and bad.

Dear Pile 6,

You’re not just a chess player—you’re the grandmaster of strategy! Your message carries the wisdom of ancestors, and you radiate a fiery resilience that reminds me of Daenerys from Game of Thrones. Like her, you’ve endured pain, abuse, and underestimation but transformed it all into wisdom. You waited, learned, and now stand ready to claim your crown. You’re the underestimated force no one saw coming—what a powerful energy!

Pile 6, I see you. You’ve worked hard, earned your success, and now indulge in the fruits of your labor. Luxury suits you. Seven by Jungkook? That’s your vibe, along with 365 days. But beneath it all, loneliness lingers. You may wonder if you’ll ever find true love or family again. Some of you may even feel orphaned in spirit, longing for connection.

You’re being asked to let things flow. Don’t overthink or take shortcuts to cope with disappointment. If a dream or relationship didn’t work out, stop replaying it in your mind. Release it. Change your perspective and focus on your growth. Your work likely involves communication or intellectual skills, so channel your energy there.

For those who feel a deep sadness from broken relationships or missed opportunities, let go of trying to rationalize what went wrong. The answers won’t soothe you. Focus instead on your aspirations. Someone here might resonate with country music, rural living, or have a love for animals like horses. Express your desires boldly—don’t shy away, even if you’re on the closeted side. Someone here could be from the year of horse or Ashwini, Shatabhisha, moola and Ardra (I was getting dog yoni) Nakshatra or a Sagittarius or can have a pet shop or stable full of horses.

If conflicts around family property, betrayal, or unresolved commitments are weighing on you, it’s time to release the baggage. Feeling cheated or betrayed, especially by family or a past lover, can be overwhelming. But holding onto anger only prolongs your pain. Stop revisiting old wounds or seeking validation from those who wronged you. If a cheater or manipulative ex resurfaces, don’t let their sob stories reel you back in. Protect your peace and move forward.

You’ve been blessed with a fresh start—don’t waste it looking backward. The attachments you hold to past people or situations may feel familiar, but they are chains. Trust me, better people and opportunities are waiting for you. If anyone from your past tries to return, proceed cautiously, and never let them exploit you again. Friends and lovers who only take from you aren’t worth your time.

Pile 6, you’re a star, and you deserve relationships that uplift you, not drag you down. Let go of anyone who dims your light. Cut the snakes from your garden and welcome those who genuinely care for you.

Stay radiant, stay strong, and have a fabulous day!

Bye-bye 😊

Your Friend

Abyss Seer

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