#but like i’m not really that good at small talk so i feel like i wasn’t giving enough?
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nichuuu · 2 days ago
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Dinner & Diatribes: Analogous
Shin Yuna x Im Nayeon x M reader
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Word count: 14k+
“A younger girl… And I’m talking much younger. Eight years younger than me I think.”
Normally, it feels like you’re worlds apart from Nayeon in her bed. You’re just her toy, her plaything, her doll.
Tonight though: it feels like she’s in the same world as you. She feels here — emotionally and physically present as her nails trace circles on your bare chest. Maybe it’s a trick of the light, or maybe even classic manipulation, but she feels like more than just someone who you fuck on the weekends.
“And you won’t be jealous?” you ask, indulging yourself and playing with her hair a little. She scoffs.
“You talk like we’re dating.” She shifts so that she has a cheek on your shoulder. A relationship with her wouldn’t really fly: she’s not gonna let you take care of her when she loves control more than anything. Still, it’s nice to dream about holding her hand sometimes. “I have no reason to be jealous, so why would I be?”
(It’s a question you’re asking yourself too honestly.)
“Dunno,” you muse, admittedly a little disheartened, “maybe it’s cause you’re kinda freaky… Just a thought.”
She smirks. “Trust me. A younger girl in this thing we’ve got going on isn’t gonna affect anything.” She starts tapping her nails against your chest. “Besides… You know you’re mine.”
Oh…
(Not sure how to feel about that last part.)
***
Last you checked: you weren’t expecting a guest today. 
“Uh,” you can’t help but mutter past her lips as you stagger back into your own apartment. She lifts her lips off yours out of consideration, and she takes a few moments to soak in the look of mixed emotions that has made its way onto your face. You don’t mean to be rude when you point at the other girl and ask, “do you wanna perhaps wanna, you know, fill me in on what’s going on here?”
Im Nayeon turns, looks over her shoulder, smiles. She turns back, cups your cheek with her hand. 
“Thought I’d bring some company tonight, just to spice things up.” Nayeon tells you, turning your head in a way that lets you get a good look at the younger girl standing at the door to your apartment. “Hope you don’t mind.” With her other hand, she makes a come hither motion, and tells the girl to close the door on her way in. The girl does as she’s told, and when she’s next to the both of you, Nayeon takes her by the hand and pulls her closer. 
“Introduce yourself sweetie,” Nayeon instructs—firm yet almost saccharine. Nayeon lets her thumb rub over the girl’s knuckles, a deceivingly sweet smile playing on her lips. “Tell him what we’ve rehearsed. Go on.”
She’s an eye-catcher for sure—the other girl, not Nayeon. Not that Nayeon isn’t already turning heads when she walks just about anywhere, but more that the other girl is just a rather far cry from what you're comfortable with. You’re so used to Nayeon’s gentle, piercing eyes that can probably break you with a look from her; those small, plump lips of hers that kiss you with precision and passion; those bunny cheeks that you love pinching so damn much that it probably should be considered an addiction. But this girl brings something new to the table, and you have to admit that it’s refreshing. 
Smoky, kinda innocent eyes that have a whole foot in the territory of doleful and another foot in the realm of entrancing; luscious long black hair; a face that could make just about anyone melt. Nayeon’s guest is certainly a few years younger than her, and certainly less lecherous than her senior at first glance. You don’t really know where or how Nayeon could pick up a girl that looks as sweet as this, and you certainly want to find out how a girl that looks like the textbook definition of ‘smoking hot’ could ever end up in a place like this. She’s clearly nervous, but you give her credit for being able to stand perfectly still with Nayeon’s hand starting to roam up her arm. 
“I’m Yuna… But you can call me whatever you want.”
The sentence has Nayeon’s fingerprints all over it, and you can assume with full certainty that she’s had this idea stewing in her head for at least a week or two. The smug grin on Nayeon’s face tells you that things are going according to plan, and her fingers latch themselves around Yuna’s forearm. 
“She’s a fun one to play with.” Now she’s directed her attention to you, looking right at you as she pulls the younger woman even close to the both of you: till you can literally feel Yuna’s breath in your ear. “A young little slut to spice things up.”
Nayeon takes her attention away from you, and with gentle hands on Yuna’s cheeks, she pulls the younger girl in for a kiss. It’s simple—no tongue or anything—but it’s enough to make the younger girl squirm a little where she stands. Nayeon’s clearly taking pleasure in this. Even with her lips locked with a girl younger than her, you can clearly see the whisper of a cheeky smile playing on the corners of her lips. You wonder if she’s gonna get more joy out of this than you at the end of the day.
The younger girl is released from the fierce lip-lock. She looks dazed, like she just took a hit of a blunt. Nayeon admires her craftsmanship for a moment, taking in the look on the poor girl’s face as she chuckles softly to herself, “oh my… Someone wasn’t quite ready, was she?”
Yuna’s at a clear loss for words. She tries to speak; her words fail her. You can’t exactly blame her though. Nayeon just kinda chooses when and where to be a bit of a minx, and you just have to roll with it. It’s fun, kinda hot; but not when you’re in a horrible place to get it and she decides that she just wants to blow you at some restaurant that you’re at. It’s a bit of a handful really, and you don’t quite know what to do with her sometimes. Wonder how Yuna fares?
“It’s okay,” Nayeon assures her, “you’re in good company now, though you're free to just watch if you’re still shy.”
The younger girl looks at her senior, then at you, then back to her senior. “I think I’d like to join in on this.”
Nayeon beams, her smile almost sweet if it isn’t for the fact that she’s quite literally happy to see a younger girl get it on with you and her. “That’s the spirit.”
And it’s confusing really: figuring out which of them is gonna make the first move. Yuna’s energy gives her an air of uncertainty, but you can sense some mischief within her that resonates at the same frequency of Nayeon’s. Yet there’s something a little different about her that you can’t quite place your finger on. Her youth is a breath of fresh air; there’s that young energy in her smile towards Nayeon that tells you that she’s eager but somewhat cautious. You would call her a mirror of Nayeon as they start discussing how she wants it, but you pick up on a bit of pickiness in her voice  that strays from Nayeon’s attitude. The older girl before you will take it however she likes, fuck herself on your cock till she cums and kinda leave you high and dry. Yuna on the other hand has some grungy ideas of where she wants you to cum and how she wants it to happen.
Okay, let’s return to home base and consolidate: they're similar but different; kinda conflicting yet go together like dinner and diatribes on a family reunion. There’s reason to believe that they are somewhat two sides of the same coin, yet simple observation contradicts the notion. Bottom line – it’s confusing.
“You know what?” Nayeon has a finger twirled in Yuna’s hair as she casts a glance at you. “How about we get you naked first… Then we figure out what we can do?”
Yuna seems to enjoy the proposal. The two women look at you, and Nayeon gestures with her head to come closer. As your feet land on the wood floor, Nayeon goes at a slower pace of walking as she rounds Yuna and stands behind her. She’s shorter than her by a considerable amount, but it doesn’t make her any less imposing as she pokes her head out from Yuna’s right side.
“Go on. Unwrap her,” Nayeon whispers, running a hand up Yuna’s stomach. “Let’s see what she has in store for us…”
And Yuna is more than glad to lift her arms up for you as you pull her sweater off her body. The girl has an amazing body – you’d give her that. Slim waist, wide hips, hourglass figures so defined that the sands of time would be jealous. A body to die for really, and the appeal only increases as she reaches behind her back and unclips her bra. Nayeon smiles as she tosses her article of clothing aside. 
“Tight and forthcoming?” The older woman muses. “Looks like we have quite the toy on our hands.”
Yuna’s gaze is almost searing as you step up to her. Her breathing is kinda unsteady, but you can’t exactly blame her. She’s half naked in front of two older people, with one of them running her hands along her smooth skin while the other cock their head and examine her from head to toe. If you were in her shoes, your blood would be racing and boiling fast. 
“Do what you want with me,” she whispers. She reaches forward and grasps your crotch through your pants. “I’m yours to take.”
You raise your eyebrows. “Did Nayeon teach you that?”
“Nope.” Speak of the devil and she doth answer on the younger woman’s behalf. “I only told her how to introduce herself, didn’t tell her what to say after,” Nayeon explains, a glint in her eye as she stares up at Yuna’s face. “Is it kinda fucked up if I wanna see her suck your dick?”
Yuna glances at her senior, then returns her gaze to you. “A little… But we can make it happen.”
Another point of difference – 2 actually: she doesn’t play around with her words and she’s pretty proactive. You like that. 
It’s a mess as you fumble with clothes, but it doesn’t take long for you guys to rid Yuna of the rest of her clothing and have her on her knees in the living room carpet. Her hands are delicate as she pulls down on the waistband of your boxers and frees your cock, and their even more so when she grips your throbbing shaft with both hands. On the chair that Nayeon pushed you onto, you watch her eyes as they survey what she’s working with.
“Wow…” she mutters, looking over to the right where Nayeon’s lounging on the sofa. “You had this all to yourself?”
Nayeon’s lips slant at an angle. “I know right? Better than any dildo you can find on the market.”
Yuna takes a moment to really look at the cock in her hands, eyes full of lustful wonder as she takes it in from all angles. She lets her mouth hang open for a little as she processes what she’s seeing, then she asks, “how does she even walk the next morning? I mean… This thing is girthy as fuck. Would probably split me open if I’m not careful.”
“It won’t,” Nayeon answers rather spontaneously, tapping her finger against a cushion as she watches Yuna pump your shaft with her lanky fingers. “It’ll fill you just right,” she leans against the handrest of the couch, watching intently as you push away some hair from Yuna’s face, “though I think it’ll look the best in your mouth.”
Yuna gets the gist. Her cheek presses itself against the inside of your thigh as she lifts your shaft and kisses it at the base, and she works her way up to the tip while one hand keeps your twitching cock steady. She gets to your head, and her lips take the sensitive part of you about halfway in, making sure you're looking (and you mean, like, really looking) as she lets her tongue lick the precum off from your leaking tip. Once she’s certain that she has your fullest attention, her jaw slacks and her shoulders rise; she takes a breath, closes her eyes.
There’s the hiss of an inhale — from you — as your head tilts back against the backrest while your cock enters the warm wet tavern of her mouth. She’s almost methodical in the way she takes you in, stopping halfway to adjust the angle of her head so that she can push forwards and down and drive the rest of your meat into your mouth. Her hands steady her, resting against your thighs as she tears a little. She’s a little more patient than her senior, waiting for a bit before she starts moving at a steady pace. Spit’s starting to drip down to her chin – will probably ruin the carpet if you cared enough (and you don’t). Nayeon’s been meaning to change this damn thing anyway. It’s seen too many juices and some dog piss in it from when her pomeranian was over those few times.
“Jesus,” is all you can hiss, through closed teeth of course. The young girl is nothing short of heavenly; she’s almost perfect at taking your dick as she starts to bob her head. The gurgling is kinda loud; spit flows like a stream down your shaft, only to be collected by that fastidious mouth as it traces a path – up and down and up and down. You wonder if there’s some make-up to be ruined.
“Won’t you look at that?” And you don’t even need to look over at the couch to know that Nayeon’s playing with herself. The squelching tells you lots, but the way her speech is kinda breathy tells you more than you need to know. She’s probably really turned by the sight of a younger woman taking cock into her mouth, riled up at the sight of tears flowing down her youthful cheeks. It’s borderline voyeuristic, pretty fucking freaky but also kinda hot. That’s her whole brand anyway. “She’s fucking taking your dick. My god…”
Yuna gurgles on your dick – probably some reply she’s trying to give but fails to because she has dick in her mouth. The suckle of her lips; the slide of her tongue against the base of your shaft; her throat kinda convulsing as she struggles and struggles – you don’t know if it’s all gonna be a bit too much, but now you’re really focusing on not trying to hurt her while your hands grab a handful of her hair in a fist. You’re assisting—or maybe forcing… Low-key goes both ways when there’s a very, very fine line between the two in this context—her, pulling her into your crotch and pushing her off just to pull her in again. It’s a vicious cycle – kinda doubling on the meaning while also butchering it: harsh and repetitive but there’s not a fucking instance where this produces a detrimental result.   
She comes up for air, your shaft pretty much dripping with spit as she takes a moment to gather herself. The gasping is hot, and so is the way she wipes her spit towards her mouth with the back of her hand. “God this is… Fuck...” she mutters, licking her lips while her fist is in constant fluid motion. Bruce Lee would be proud: she is like water.
“Keep it up darling,” the motions of Nayeon’s wrist have gotten quite sharp, sudden and lacking interval. Okay, maybe not sudden, but more… Desperate. It’s not like she isn’t gonna get her fair share of cock or anything, but she hasn’t been over for a while. There’s only so much that a vibrator and her fingers can do; she kinda needs to see it and revel in it for her to actually get off properly. You don’t know if watching a young girl take dick into her mouth is softening the blow dealt to her senses, but you kinda know that it’s still doing a number on her because she’s completely hiked up the hem of her dress to fuck herself with her fingers. There’s not much thought behind her actions, but she’s definitely letting herself go a little wild for the night. She is being indulged after all. 
“Am I doing good?” Yuna inquires, and it’s a question directed to both of you really. You give her a nod; Nayeon’s answer is verbal: Keep that up and you’re gonna make two people cum in the next five minutes. The young girl is pleased. She lets her tongue swirl around your tip, lick the cock before her from base to tip and sneak in some scissoring flicks of her tongue. Your hand finds itself on her cheek, thumb massaging the bone just above the flesh as she giggles and tosses her hair.
“You’re a doll,” you tell her. She smiles.
“That’s one of the many names I’ve been called,” she replies, letting your spit-covered head rub against her cheek. “Though I like the name cumslut the most.”
Oh.
Your grip on her cheek becomes more firm. “Okay then,” and your pushing her to the left so that her lips are in line with your head. “Open wide you fucking cumslut.”
The enthrallment in her eyes is apparent. Obedient, subservient, forthcoming, whatever; she parts her lips and lets her tongue hang out. Her eyelids flutter shut. You pull her forward. Nayeon cusses.
You're unbelievably hard in her mouth, and your member is ever so sensitive to every movement inside those cheeks of hers. The softness of her tongue, slickness of her drool, warmth of her cheeks… Too much to focus on with so little space for appreciation. You settle on fixating on the suction, the sweet vacuum her lips form around your length as she quite literally lets her mouth get used. Two hands around her head – pulling, pushing, pulling, pushing. A hot rhythm, not quite a dance but kinda cyclical like a routine. More perverse than any street jazz choreo you’ve seen though.
“Yuna,” you mutter, “ you’re so – fuck I – ugh… Your mouth.”
Somewhere in her throat, there’s space for a hum. Her hands are behind her back, locked in place by her own accord as she lets you fuck her mouth with no qualms. It’s smooth, almost natural till she gags a little on your dick and has to blink a bit. Slip n’ slide; front and back – she just takes your cock like an obedient little slut. It’s amazing, kinda dark, but still amazing nonetheless. The gurgling and the sound that comes from her throat that’s almost like swallowing; your fingers grasping the silky strands of her hair; eyes meeting hers. Fuck. 
You're desperate for a taste of heaven. You pull her down harder, faster. 
She gags, chokes, sucks a little harder. 
“Fuck this,” Nayeon hisses. “I’m joining in.”
And she straddles you before you can even blink, kissing you fiercely like she’s gonna die the next day and this is the last time she’s seeing you. Somewhere along the way, she’d shed her clothes. Now she’s nude and kissing you, jabbing her tongue into your mouth and exploring the feel of your teeth. Your cheeks are hers to hold, your mouth hers to own. 
She breaks the torrid kiss, “Yuna,” she drawls, playing with your hair as she speaks to the girl while looking at you. “Don’t ruin him too much. Leave some fun for me.”
The vibrations sent down your shaft make you tingle from head to toe – a product of Yuna’s attempted reply. You can’t see her anymore, but you can continue to just flow with the movements of pulling and pushing against her hair as Nayeon dives between her legs to get back to work. The older woman lets a sigh escape from her lips, pushing her fingers a little deeper. You can feel the heat against your crotch. Her hands move a little faster.
“Do you have any idea,” she whispers, her voice kind of striking that middle frequency between the gurgling and the squelching. “How fucking pent up I was in that damn dorm?”
Through your teeth, you reply. “No,” and you kinda twitch a little in Yuna’s mouth. “Do tell.”
She leans in, moans into your ear for good measure. “I was dripping every other day,” she reports, a lilt in her voice as she continues her work between her thighs. “Didn’t help that Momo was bringing a guy over and I could hear them fucking through the walls… My vibrator almost died that week.”
“Well…” you shudder as you speak, a familiar tingle building up from the base of your shaft. "You’ll have to wait your fucking turn.”
She smiles, quite sadistically you might add.
“That’s alright,” she tells you. Her forehead pressed against yours. “Just leave a load for me.”
And you have to hit her with an honest reply. “I’ll always have a load for you.”
“That’s what I thought.” She straightens her back and looks down at you. “I own this dick,” she announces to her audience of two. “Now cum in her mouth. I’m gonna get her to fucking swallow your load.” The orders are barked, not said. “I wanna watch.”
And she turns her toned back to you, leaving you with the view of the delicious curve of her back as she arches it while slicking her fingers with her own juices. You’re trying to hold on, desperately, but there’s only so much you can do when the mouth around you and the two women before you are this hot.
You don’t get to see it when it happens, but you can hear it and kinda imagine it when you cum right into Yuna’s mouth. You bet it’s kinda messy, but you’ll never know. Nayeon’s ass blocks the view – a trade off: view for a view. You hear the older woman hiss her commands—“Swallow. Fucking swallow you filthy little whore”—envison the sight of the young woman struggling to down your load as it pumps ito her wet hot mouth. A groan spills from your lips; a long-drawn sigh filters from Nayeon’s chest; Yuna gulps as she takes it all.
Your dick pops out of her mouth, all messy and slick with juices. Nayeon grabs it, pumps it, and without warning – shoves it into her cunt. 
And all at once it becomes too much: your over stimulated member twitches wildly in the grasps of her slick, hot walls as it begs for a break. The pleasure is horribly abundant, so much that it almost hurts. There’s no time to process the tight heat around you, voice your need for a break. Nayeon starts bouncing on her knees.
“Oh fuck yes.” Her hands shoot behind her, the left one failing to catch the handrest the first timebut gripping it tightly on the second attempt. Her knuckles go white. “I needed this. I needed to be filled by this fucking cock of yours.”
It’s too much; another load surges forth almost instantly. The hot semen paints her walls, shoots up from your already over-sensitive head and flows down her cunt. It leaks out; the squelching gets louder. Yuna’s tongue laps up the mix of juices that flow. Nayeon continues to ride.
Your fingers dig into the flesh of her waist, desperate to assist you in grounding yourself in this seemingly unreal reality. There’s a lack of words that can really describe your predicament, and if you’re to actually bring it across in a coherent sentence, it’ll probably something along the lines of “fuck” repeated at least a million times. You’re stuck in the chain of entry and exits of her pussy, a bundle of nerves beneath Im Nayeon while she mercilessly fucks herself on your cock. Right now: your dick is nothing but a mere toy for her to get off on, and she made that very clear from the moment she started throwing herself down onto your dick.
“Nayeon…” you heave. It’s an effort to even breathe.
“Shut it,” she hisses, not even casting a glance behind her. “I’m cumming on this cock one way or another and I don’t care how many fucking loads you give me.”
Yuna crawls around to the side of the chair. You hazard a glance at the young girl. She’s messy, sweaty and has residues of cum and drool at some areas around her mouth. She reaches out into the chair and takes you by the hand, squeezing it tightly in hers as if she knows that you’re fucking fading by the second. Every slam of Nayeon’s crotch against you is a mix of pleasure and pain, her moans almost like animalistic grunts.
“Fuck… You’re really filling her,” Yuna muses, watching the older girl take her liberties with your dick. “She must be so fucking tight right now.”
You swallow. “Yeah… It’s… Fuck…”
Yuna chuckles. Watching you struggle must kinda humour a little. She gives your hand a squeeze, encouraging you to hold on to what grasp of this world you have left. Her eyes sparkle, almost envious as she sees her senior bouncing on the dick she was taking into her mouth just a few moments ago. Her other hands snakes between her legs, flits circles of respite. Two girls getting off before you, similar but different.
Go ahead. Call this shit Tuesday.
***
“Be nice to her when I’m gone.”
You aren’t sure why Nayeon would need such a huge suitcase for a 10 day trip with her family. There’s no doubt in your mind that there’s probably tonnes of products in there that she wants to bring along for the fuck of it, but the damned thing looks like it was harbouring a small child. Not that Nayeon would ever do that, but it does help to paint a clearer picture of the sheer scale of her luggage. The airport X-ray is about to have a field day with this.
“Of course.” You’re kinda obvious about your ogling from the doorway as Nayeon does her hair with nothing but her leggings on. Yuna is still fast asleep in the room that you’d prepared for her, but you still kept your volume down just to play it safe. 
Nayeon smirks at you through the mirror. “I’m sure she’ll feel right at home with you.”
“Is that sarcasm I’m hearing?”
“Take it however you like. My eyes are up here by the way.”
You chuckle and walk up behind her. “Guilty as charged mademoiselle,” you apologise, though you're not all that ashamed of th fact that she’s caught you in th act of fucking her with your eyes.
Nayeon hits you with a scoff, a rather aloof one that screams ‘got you. Thought you were slick huh?’ even though it was within your fullest intentions for her to catch you looking. She had to be fair to you in this situation — kinda hard to look at anything else. Or maybe you’re misjudging her, maybe she knows full well that you were (and still are) catching a good look at those firm, perky mounds that sit proudly atop her chest. They fit perfectly in your hands, quite like a glove—OJ Simpson would hate that it fits that well—and a nicely-fitted set of bed sheets. What the fuck does that even mean? Frankly, you can’t quite put an explanation to it yourself; you’re kinda listing things that sound and feel right to you — things that give something enjoyable that little kick it needs to become something more congenial. 
(That sort of encapsulates her whole personality honestly. She’s already something to relish, cherish; the type of girl that makes other guys say ‘she’s a keeper’ even though they don’t have the slightest idea of what she really was like beyond cameras and public appearances. Kinda horny all the time, but also wants to cuddle you to sleep and call you all sorts of pet names after you’ve blindfolded and fucked her against three different flat surfaces – maybe breaking some expensive furniture in the process. Dominant, a little stubborn and a little pissy. Need you say more?)
“But for real: make her feel at home,” she says, setting down the curling iron and switching it off. She leaves it to cool down, puts on a sweater while she waits. “Poor girl’s been through enough. I promised her a safe haven, so try to make it one.”
The context behind her request is a little baffling. Just this morning Nayeon told you of Yuna’s falling out with an alleged highschool sweetheart, and she's taking shelter with you guys till legal matters are dealt with and she’s safe and sound. Guy started stalking her apparently, threatened her once or twice too. Fun times we live in.
Helping her hook the clasp of her necklace, you assure Nayeon that only your best effort would go into creating a safe space for her younger companion. Not to brag, but you’re pretty good at making friends—trust me. We’ll be tight before you even know it—with strangers. It’ll be like walking the dog; easy peasy. You get the idea right? Kinda running out of sayings. Nayeon seems pretty pleased with your promises.
“If you guys have fun, do send some videos,” she tells you, opening her drawer to pull out a pair of jeans. “I’ll be missing out on a lot if you don’t. That girl has a body even I wanna ravage.”
“So cock is not enough, huh?” you tease. She flicks her eyes to the mirror.
“Who said it wasn’t enough?” She cocks her head and makes eye contact through the mirror. “I literally ride you till you’re sore. Yuna’s just… an add-on. Like a side dish if you will.”
You chortle. “And I’m the main course?”
“Nope,” she giggles, unfolding her jeans. “That would be me.”
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
“If you want an admission of my wrongs, you’ll have to fuck it out of me.”
And she meets your eyes in the mirror. You smile, knowing that she’ll probably let you get away with this one.
“It’s really a shame…” you sigh. “These leggings were, like, really nice.”
***
Couple minutes later you’re giving her a kiss on the cheek as she hurries for the taxi that arrived five minutes ago. In the midst of the commotion, Yuna emerges from her room dressed in one of your shirts – just in time to wave goodbye to her senior before Nayeon slips away. You're not too sure if she’s fully registered the fact that she’ll be stuck with you for a full week, but hopefully once the realisation sets in, you’d already have made her comfortable. 
You turn. The way you meet her gaze is kinda awkward. She has a look of intrigue on her face as she rubs her arms and gazes back at you with those doleful eyes.
You clear your throat. “You uh… You like omelettes?”
***
On your phone screen, Nayeon just kinda stares back at you with a hundred-yard-stare type of look. Hotel wifi has her video freezing at a rate that would make Elsa proud, and she’s barely a human through all the pixelated fuck-what that clouds in front of her.
“I feel like we're focusing on vastly different things here, Nayeon.” You’re hoping that she can hear your voice over the roaring silence of shitty network bandwidth. “Not even a day too… I’m pretty sure the poor girl’s scared shitless of me.”
And while Nayeon’s video and audio buffer, it’s a good time to remind yourself of your mistake. Not that you forgot it or anything, but you just gotta make sure that everything that you tell Nayeon is accurate.
So it turned out that Yuna and breakables don’t really go well together. Nayeon seems to have forgotten to ask you to read some fine-prints, and you basically went in raw when you witnessed  the young girl’s clumsiness. Quite the butter-fingers: she broke a mug and a plate in one slip of her tray from her hands. The sound of shattering porcelain jarred her, and as she attempted to move out of her mess, the Dad in you spurred you to cry out in panic. Don’t move! you practically roar. Poor thing flinched like she’s being held at gun-point, started shivering a little as you rushed over to clear up the shards. You don’t quite know how to comfort her, and so you just tell her to just eat in her room if she’s uncomfortable. She took you up on that, and that ended the first non-sexual interaction you had with her.
Way to go… You deserve a star.
By the time you’re done pacing the room and have thrown yourself onto the bed, Nayeon reconnects back to the call. She’s in a bathroom, wearing airpods and sitting in what looks like a bathtub. From the fact that she's wearing a robe, you’ll bet good money on the really (and you can’t stress this enough) high chance that she’s wearing nothing else beneath that.
“Five star hotel and I get two bars of wifi everywhere except the damn toilet,” she huffs. Guess you were right about what the two of you were focusing on. No prizes for being right though; life’s a bitch. “Anyway, don’t think too much about it. She’s clumsy but she’s not unaware. I’m sure she’ll understand where you’re coming from.”
“Honestly”—you slide under the covers and heave a huge sigh—“I think I might find my thirteenth reason if she hates me tomorrow.”
Nayeon rolls her eyes. Yes: she’s painfully aware that you certainly won’t kill yourself over the fact that you may or may not have made a girl re-live her trauma, but the knowledge of that doesn’t stop her from expressing her disdain towards your little joke.
“Sleep on it. You’ll be fine tomorrow,” she assures you, now in full resolution and crystal clear audio and image. She segways into something else, “By the way, check out the link I’m sending you.”
Toilet wifi is truly doing her wonders cause you get the link in question right after she says it. And you aren’t sporting a fedora when you confidently identify the source as a Reddit thread, but it feels like you should be heading online to buy one and get it delivered via next-day delivery. (Ugh… You can feel the word m’lady threatening to burst forth from your mouth already.) Yuck.
Clicking on the link brings you to a community you’re no stranger to. You’ve heard of it once or twice, but never really had the time or energy to delve into the posts. Nayeon seems to have done some homework though — you’re taken to a very specific post, a clip that kinda blew up when it debuted. 
It takes no Oppenheimer to draw the conclusion that the post addresses Nayeon herself, and she’s clad in that all black bodysuit from that one Talk That Talk performance that hugs her figure and really makes all the curves on her body pop. You’d know: you fucked her in this outfit; railed her on the bed from the back with a pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs on her wrists if you want specifics. And if you want even more details: she didn’t let you cum till she’d came 3 times. Fun.
It’s a stunning outfit, and the appeal of the wonders it does to Nayeon’s body is only emphasised by how she runs her hands up from her hips, tracing the hourglass shape of her figure before she flips her hair. A pretty good Gif. Seems to have all 1410 commenters on their knees.
Now mind you: you’re on speaker phone with her right now. With that in mind, it sure as hell feels like Nayeon’s in the room with you as low sighs and salacious squelching starts filtering through Nayeon’s microphone and into your ears. A quick glance at the call window (that’s so helpfully converted to a small rectangle at the top right-hand corner of your phone) confirms 2 things while surprising you with a third find:
1) She’s very much naked under that robe. A bit of a no-brainer
2) She’s playing with herself – legs wide open and one of them (you can’t be arsed to really say which one) propped up on the rim of the bathtub as juice-slicked fingers work themselves between flushed folds.
3) The whole reason you can see the stuff in 2) is attributed to the fact that she's somehow leaned her phone against something in that bathtub to give you an almost artistic view of her. Emphasis on ‘almost’ because the close-up of her pretty, pink pussy is foreground to an even more sordid display of her half-lidded eyes and parted lips — baseness personified really.
Yuna becomes a secondary thought. “So… Has anyone told you that you’re kind of freaky?”
“Hey. I’m just a girl,” she muses, the look on her face a strong contender for the symbol of pure depravity. “Read the comments would you?”
“Twitter’s a much better place for this if—”
“Just stop being a smartass and read the fucking horny comments.”
You’re not intimidated by the aggression behind her voice for once, and it’s probably because she isn’t here to edge you if you don’t shut up. You take a moment to admire just how good she looks in this seemingly sempiternal display of what looks like lust itself, the Gif looping at least 3 times while you’re at it (and it’s like, the best 14 seconds of your life). The sun hits her at just the right, illuminating the best parts of her while shadows further define the shape of her curves – bringing forth the swell of her hips while making her tits and ass look bigger by a rather generous amount. Frankly, she looks good in just about anything really. Clothes on or off; hair tied up or let down; lingerie or fancy dress; lace or solid, she is the embodiment of sex.
“Hurry the fuck up,” she hisses, and it’s dripping with lethal lust and desire like venom from serpent fangs. Okay… There’s some mutual interest here with you and Nayeon. You’ll oblige.
“How nasty are we getting?” you inquire, all while you work the waistband of your pants down past your crotch so that your cock can spring free. You enlarge the window of the call, silently hypnotising yourself with the sight of Im Nayeon’s hand busying itself between her legs. “Are we going from the tame ones and progressing or…”
The look on her face tells you that she doesn’t give a shit; and she’s about this close to ending this filthy call and getting off on her own. Better conscience guides you to pick a random comment from the middle and get going with it.
“This one’s a thought provoker,” you preempt, scanning through the rather raunchy statement left behind by some undoubtedly turned-on user. “It says, ‘I wonder what she tells her stylist when she has to wear such outfits. It's like she must be really asking: I want something that will reveal my whole curvy figure. Nayeon is really the best girl’.”
“Mnph…” — she tilts her head back and lets out a gasp – an implosive suction of air that’s sharp yet so pleasing to your ears. “Curvy and… What was that again?”
“Best girl,” you reiterate, watching with a half-parted mouth as your hand matches the pace of Nayeeon’s fingers pumping in and out of the wet mess on the screen, “looks like someone’s got an eye for details.”
“They’d better. I think I looked fucking hot in that thing.”
You could second that opinion, though it was probably in your best interest to keep reading. This is basically your equivalent of putting fries into bags. You’re kinda okay with it, but you’re struggling to read this next one because of its horrible grammar, “her pussy must feel like heaven. With a tight body like that, she must know how she’s draining balls around the world.”
In the bathtub, she twitches. Her ring and middle finger are drenched when they’re removed from her pussy, but they don’t rest and find solid ground on her clit. They rub circles into Nayeon’s swollen nub, no doubt applying just the right amount of pressure onto the area while Nayeon is breathing all shaky and sounds like she’s been winded. In your books: this is basically her doing a backflip over the fine line between freaky and kinky, and basically exposing you to some new kink that she’s probably picked up from Sana.  If any of these commenters ever really had a sliver of an idea of what she’s really like behind the scenes, you doubt that the comments would be as merciful as this. Anyway, next.
“I bet she likes it raw. She probably loves being a good little fucktoy who takes unprotected dicks into that tight pussy and letting load after load fill her. I mean” —Nayeon starts to shudder a little, quaking and sighing as you get to the more explicit section of his comment—“she’d probably like it if I just ripped that dress off her body and spread her legs. She’ll moan like a slut when I put it in her and just start doing her raw. Imagine the way her tits will bounce. Fucking slut, she was made to be bred.”
She lets out this moan – inexplicable and undescribable. She urges you to keep going. You do just that.
“I want her mouth so bad. Bunny has those dick sucking lips that are made for cock, probably gives mad head and is so fucking sloppy with it. I bet she’ll let the drool drip from the corners of her mouth while she takes me in all the way, and she’ll probably thank me with her eyes when I grab her by the hair and start fucking her throat. I’m gonna destroy that pretty little face so bad, leave her so fucking messy and ruined that she’ll have to stop singing for at least a week. When I cum, I’m gonna make sure it goes down her throat and get some on that slutty face. She’s earned it.”
You’re watching her, pumping your fist around your cock while she lets her jaw slack and lets her moans sort of tumble from her mouth in batches. “More,” she pleads, fingers trembling as she lets her free hand slip beneath her robe and start giving attention to her tits. You’d kinda kill to see them now, but this view will have to do. “Read more. I want to hear it.”
“They're getting nastier,” you inform her. “This whole thread of comments is just 3 guys discussing how they want to share you in a gangbang.”
“Fuck yes. Please…”
She never finishes the sentence, but you get the gist. You persist. 
The next one is kinda paraphrased, partially because you’re projecting your own fantasies while simultaneously deciphering what this guy is trying to say across 5 separate comments. 
“I want nothing more”—and it’s getting really hard to breathe while Nayeon’s fucking herself senseless halfway across the world. Maybe if she hadn’t worn those damned airpods, you wouldn’t be hearing every single sordid little sound she makes (gasps, sighs, moans and a bunch of phonetic mish-mash that began with the letter ‘o’). You can’t tell if she’s already lost to the haze of pleasure, and even if she hasn’t she’s probably holding on by a thread thinner than hair; on the way there and probably reaching within the next five minutes—“than to pound her little pussy raw and give her a fat load.”
“Oh my fucking god…” she’s descending a little further into her own head, sinking beneath the sheer thrill of masturbating while her partner reads out all the perverse things that people would do to her. Her breaths are almost desperate – earthy and kind of like a product of raw emotion; akin to a groan or maybe even a grunt. At the same time, it’s like she’s struggling to take in the air she needs, fighting to find a reason to take a breath and distract her from this debauched world that she’s dived into. It isn’t just her mind that’s twisted here, but the minds of others too.  “Keep going. I need to know how they’re gonna ruin me.”
You’re trying to memorise the next line so you can watch, watch the subtle twitch in her right leg and the grunt-moan hybrid that’s produced from that pleasure stricken throat; the way she becomes a bundle of nerves like you and just starts losing it; the way her fingers go from rubbing to fluttering small circles of heavenly release into her body; the way the round breast that’s slipped out of the robe ripples with each movement from her shoulder. You’re more than happy to watch really; be a witness to the act of her bringing herself to the point of no return as she practically brims with pleasure and bliss that she’s bringing herself. You’re reading is like an add-on, some sick twisted DLC if you really think about it (you’re not really thinking much, but it’s a fun thing to consider). It’s quite like making a drink, albeit a little bit butchered – she’s pouring herself a glass while you wipe the rim with a lemon. The alcohol can spill on your fingers for all you care, you just wanna watch her make it overflow. 
TL;DR: you really wanna make her cum.
“I’ll fuck her mouth while you take her pussy”—this one is read word-for-word, verbatim, letter-for-letter. You like how it’s phrased, not quite poetry but beautiful in its own way—“make her gag on this cock till she’s ruining her mascara. We cum together. Give this little slut the spit roast creampie of her life.”
She half-sigh-half-moans – the type of noise she’d make when she’s on her back and being fucked into the mattress. She shifts, undoes the knot holding her robe together and lets the thing part from the middle and falls at her sides. Leaning back against the end of the bathtub, her pleading comes in the form of whines, soft ones that kinda float around the room while she endeavours to work her fingers a little harder. A free hand kneads her breast. Your breath hitches, cock pulsing in your fist as she arches her back and starts to gasp. You read the next lines, the boner-fueled words of some guy who probably had his cock in his hand while typing this out.
“I want her ass. I’ll make her ride it while she takes it up that bubble butt, then you guys an still fuck her pussy and mouth. She’ll be so messy, probably dripping from her pussy and her mouth while three dicks fuck the shit out of all three of her holes. You know what? I bet she’ll enjoy it. The slut flaunts her body like it’s a fucking prize. She’s asking for it.” 
There are like 2 more comments, but you never quite make it to the next parts. With a cry, Nayeon leans forward in the bathtub. She digs her fingers back into her slit, restarts the squelching and lets your speakers flood with a sordid symphony; squelch after squelch after squelch feels like music to your ears.  “Your cock.” It’s a demand, really raunchy, kinda racy and really (and you really mean really) fucking raw. Can’t quite figure out which part of her strips her of the filter that takes away the pure intoxicating venom that coats her words, but you couldn’t really give more of a shit right now. It’s hot, like, really fucking hot. “Show me your cock. Let me see you stroke it.”
And it’s almost at once that you switch back to the call and flip your camera around. You’ve been going at the same tempo for some time now, and you hope Nayeon can see the utter mess she’s made of you – precum leaking from your tip and your head all swollen and red. She moans, slips another digit inside of her and starts working all three of her fingers harder inside of her. 
“Ngh… I really wish that I could be filled with your cock right now,” she drawls. You’re not too sure if she knows that she’s projecting a shared desire right now. It’d be great to feel those warm walls wrapped around your shaft, slicking it with her juices while she rides you at a steady pace. Fuck… She’s ruining you, isn’t she? “With me baby. Cum. Make a mess for me.”
Her words are a little jumbled, but coherence doesn't really matter when she’s spitting pure filth from her lips. It doesn’t take long for either of you to get there, but you like to think that you meet her where she already is and kinda just go from there. At least that’s what you tell yourself as she convulses and is marred by her orgasm, and your cum leaks down your shaft and flows over your knuckles while you watch Your respective cameras capture it all – witnesses the mess you make at the hands of each other (and yourselves). You have to take a second, sit in the warm puddle of your own mess. It’s pooled on your stomach; cleaning up’s gonna be a chore.
“God…” Nayeon breathes. “Always wanted to try this.”
“Guessed as much,” you reply, sitting up in your bed and looking around for tissues. You spot a box of them on your desk. Great.
“Gotta go. Be in touch soon.”
She leaves you in the darkness of your room. From the corner of your eye, you spot a set of eyes watching you from the ajar door. You make out Yuna’s features before she closes the door, no doubt fleeing the scene. You aren’t sure how much she saw, but you hope that whatever she did see hadn’t scared her shitless.
Anyway, there are larger issues at hand.
***
It’s somewhere on the third or fourth night where it happens. For the record: you don’t go to her. She comes to you.
Weather forecast predicted hail, and for once they’re actually correct. It’s pissing it down – the glass on your room not left unscathed from the assault of hail falling from the sky. It’s awfully noisy, helluva hullabaloo. Hard to sleep in this weather really. You warned Yuna—who seems to have gotten a little more comfortable around you—about the horrid weather that you guys were about to be blessed with, and you can’t help but wonder if she’s fairing alright.
The knock on your door comes around a quarter after one. Yuna steps into your room, her silky nightdress kinda glowing in the low light as she sort of just stands there awkwardly. It’s quite like a child entering their parents room in the middle of the night to inform them that they’ve shat the bed. You look at her from under the covers for a bit, and when she continues to be a deer in headlights, you sit up in your bed. “You okay?”
“I’m um…” she begins, fiddling with her fingers as she speaks. “I-It’s noisy… And…”
You understand what she’s attempting to convey. You move to your right in bed, open the covers and pat on the space you’ve left for her. She smiles, grateful. When she settles into the space where Nayeon usually sleeps, you tell her to holler if she needs anything else. You leave her with that, and your back faces her when you—by the grace of some divine powers—drift off.
You wake up again in the early morning. The sleep wasn’t bad – kinda peaceful and dreamless and you want to close your eyes and drift back off. Unfortunately (actually kinda fortunately in this case), Yuna’s legs entangled with yours snaps you awake. You’re worried that you might have rolled into her while you were asleep (you really didn’t want to fuck up again), but her arm around your torso tells you otherwise. She’s cuddled up to you, head against your back and hugging you like you’re her personal soft toy – the usual kind of cuddling. Frankly, you’re at a loss for words. What happens in between is kind of a blur. You remember her stirring, and you remember turning around as slowly and gently as possible. What you don’t quite remember however, is how she ends up with a hand on your cheek. You vaguely remember her asking for some sort of permission, but your heart is beating so loudly in your ears that you can’t really hear or process much. She’s in the most vulnerable of positions right now, and the worst thing you could possibly do is fuck up. Your mishaps from the first day have you on edge.
And now you’re running through the events again in your head, doing your best to pick up on critical exposition that probably would explain the situation you're in. Words fail you as Yuna’s thumb traces a path across your cheek, sweeping back and forth languidly with the smallest of smiles on her face. Her eyes—those hypnotic doleful eyes—stare into yours, and you’re sniffing out some longing behind that gaze. 
“Nayeon put in a really good word for you,” she whispers, letting her gaze wander across your face. “She said that you were a trustworthy man… Someone who’ll take care of anyone because you can.”
You’re happy to hear of Nayeon’s positive appraisal of you, but it doesn’t stop your bad habit of cracking a joke in tense situations. “And what’s the customer’s review?”
You’re glad that she laughs. If she didn’t, you’d have to expand your list to include a 14th reason. 
“She told me to trust you and that I can feel safe around you,” she reports. She takes a moment to bring her eyes back to yours. Her smile grows wider. “I’m happy to say that I do… Largely.”
And all at once: a two tonne weight around your chest feels like it just dropped a twenty-story height. You aren’t sure if Yuna’s giggling because of the fact that you’re visibly relieved or because you heaved the loudest sigh of relief of your career.
“Man… I thought I’d completely fucked up after the first day,” you admit to her, relishing the feeling of your body relaxing in bed. “Never quite got to apologise for that.”
“And you don’t have to”—her smile is quite soothing to be honest, puts you right at ease after looking at it for a second or two— “I was just kinda shocked��� And I kinda have a bad experience of being yelled at. Working on it though.”
Huh. Guess Nayeon was right about her.
“Still though,” you raise, rubbing your eyebrow. “I’m sorry.”
Yuna chortles. Her lips slant at an angle. “Forgiven and forgotten. Happy?”
You smile in response to the progress. “Hey. You go girl.”
She graces you with a wink. A moment of silence follows. 
“Did Nayeon ask you to be touchy with me?” you can’t help but inquire. It’s out of the blue, but hey: a burning question is a burning question. “I mean… It’s not everyday that a cute girl just pulls up in my bed and caresses my cheek.”
“She said that you’ll be fine”—she retracts the hand on your cheek. The two tonne weight starts rising to the 5th floor—“and are you flirting with me?”
(Two tonne weight falls. Phew… What a workout.)
“Maybe.” You don’t really like being blunt cause there’s always some merit in a bit of playing around. Now that you think back on it, you may or may not have picked this up from Nayeon. Damn girl is ruining you. “Take it how you want, just don’t think I’m being sarcastic.”
Yuna smirks a little. “Nayeon did say you like to play around with your words,” she lifts a finger and points away from the bed, “not sure if she influenced you,” she points towards you,  “or if you influenced her”.
“What if we’re both a little guilty?”
“Then I’ll be the outlier. Can I kiss you?”
And it feels like time stops. For the seconds that you stare at her in silence, one brain cell exerts maximum fucking effort to process the weight of her words. You wouldn’t have been as hesitant if she’d just kissed you directly, but now that she’s asking for consent first, you’re high-key at a loss for words. The sun’s starting to rise and the room’s being filled with this sorta radiant glow… Or maybe it’s just her.
“Woah,” you can’t help but muse. Of course, you’re exaggerating by quite a bit. “You are… Super blunt.”
“Figured you could use a change of pace.”
Then Yuna closes the distance between the two of you. She hesitates for a little, hovering over your lips for a bit before she finally decides to press her lips onto yours. It’s kinda sweet; her lips feel amazing and she’s really going down on you. You comb your hands through her hair, let the smell of sweet shampoo kinda intoxicate you a little while she tugs at your lower lip with her teeth. Unlike Nayeon, it feels like she’s kissing you because she wants to. The older girl sometimes makes it feel like she’s doing it for the sake of it, and then proceeds to tear through your clothes to get to your dick. Yuna takes her time, lets her hand on your face get familiar with the structure of your jaw as fingers graze them gently; introduces her index finger and thumb to your chin as she tips it to deepen the kiss a little.
“Hey,” she calls once the kiss is broken. She’s glowing in the light of the room, the smile on her face pretty fucking adorable. “Did Nayeon ever tell you that I look the best when I take it from the back?”
Again: super fucking blunt.
Clothes are never a hassle when you’re kinda in a rush, and Yuna’s night dress slips right off her body like the plate she dropped from the tray. You have her on her back, kinda half-mewing-half-keening as you catch a nipple in your mouth and suck on on it. The toned muscles on her stomach tense and relax, the rapid ebb and flow of pleasure in her system making her body move in all sorts of sensual ways as you palm her other breast.
And here’s the thing you like about Yuna: she lets you take her time with her, really revels in the sweetness of the moment while your trailing kisses down to her crotch. She moans for you – sweet music that tells you yeah that’s the spot while you acquaint and familiarise yourself with her body; she shifts herself accordingly – rolls to her side when you were kissing her plunging collarbones and opens her legs for you when you get to that pretty, pink pussy. It’s like she’s wired to please you, responding to your every move with a move of her own like you’re locked in a dance with her. It’s a welcome change of pace from having to fight and dirty talk your way to even get the chance to fuck Nayeon.
(In case you’re wondering: you do eat her out, but you kinda get lazy to really put into words. All you need to know are these few key points:
Firstly, she’s delicious, sweet and salty and kinda tangy. A bit of a subjective taste but you like it.
Secondly, her moans are really fucking adorable. They’re not even, like, purposefully made that way. She just kinda lets them flow from her mouth – choked-up cries of pleasure while warm thighs wrap around your ears. 
Lastly, when she cums, it’s fucking amazing. It’s like she brings heaven down to earth with her cries and makes sure you get to touch it as much as she can. Her body is fucking riveting – arches deliciously when she arrives and makes you twitch in your pants.
Bottom line: she’s really fucking hot, quite like Nayeon in the way she tries you on sometimes but patient and actually giving you the chance to talk dirty with her. Damn… She really is a change of pace.)
And so: reaching between your bodies with her on all fours, you grasp your cock in your right hand, slipping it between Yuna’s legs. The young woman spreads her thighs as best she can – readies herself for entry. Your head pushes between her lips, waiting for only a moment, before you thrust hard inside her, filling her to the hilt with your cock. She’s awfully tight, really fucking wet and God is it hot in there. You almost think molten iron seems to be brewing in her core.
“Tell me,” she huffs, a sly smile on her face as she props herself up on her elbows. “Am I better? Or is Nayeon still the best?”
You caress the swell of her ass. “Baby… I think you’ll be the best fuck I’ll have in a while.”
It’s almost cruel: the way you kinda just start thrusting without any warning. She likes it though, and you only know because she possesses the bluntness to do so.
“God you’re fucking big.” And her ass ripples with each thrust you deliver into that slick little pussy of her’s. “Fuck… How does Nayeon even manage you?”
(The thing you like about her is how she asks a question like it was some sort of objective statement – not a rhetorical question, just something for you to respond to.)
You fuck her harder in response to that, kinda push yourself all the way into her. The tip of your cock slams against her cervix and her cries ring throughout your room. Your room fills with the sort of visceral sound one would associate with skin slapping against skin. There are definitely some more words to be shared during sex – the girl has a little more things she wants to get off her chest, but what the whole exchange boils down to is a back and forth of her gasping and crying out and saying you’re the best dick she'll ever get and you telling her you love the feel of her little cunt.
(It's really not like you're trying to prove something by being super rough. Yuna just happens to really, really like the feel of a thick cock pounding into her. Maybe Nayeon was right – her taking it from the back was a good idea.
Or maybe she's just a slut.
Who knows?)
"Yeah," you growl. You reach forward and grab a handful of her hair, pull her body against yours. "Take my cock baby."
"I can take it," she gasps, the breath knocked out of her. Her fingers curl against the bedsheets and she's just taking your cock. She's a lot easier to please than Nayeon – less stubborn about being in control, but also much, much more willing to please. "Oh God, fuck me, please..."
You slam deep inside her. Her body jerks forward and the sound that comes from her mouth is a mix between a cry and a gasp. "Please what?"
"Fuck me harder," she says. She's practically begging for it. "Make me cum. Please, please make me cum!"
Taking up her request is all you really wanna do. She didn’t need to add the multiple pleads, but you took some pleasure in hearing it.
You grab ahold of her shoulders, pull her close till she's almost upright. "You're gonna cum around my dick," you growl. You start a series of rapid, hard thrusts and her body goes limp in your arms. "And you're gonna make a mess of yourself."
She nods frantically. She's a mess already, all sweaty and red. The sounds that leave her mouth are incoherent. With two fingers pressing hard and directly against her clit, you start circling on it, making her a complete fucking wreck in the middle of your room as you really try to get her off. There's a sweet spot you find after a moment – the pad of your digits slipping around the nub and her knees give, almost making her buckle until she's flat on her stomach on the bed, crying and shaking as you use her like a toy.
"Please... Fuck... Don't stop, oh God don't stop!" Her cries are like a prayer to you. You've never heard anything like it. You fuck her right through it, watching as her back arches and her legs twitch, until she's almost completely gone. There's only a little bit more left. She just needs a little extra push.
So you decide to go a little hard. You hold her by her hips, keep her legs shut, and thrust directly down onto her pussy with a force you'd only reserve for someone like Nayeon. Her eyes roll back in her head as you really take her like you've wanted to ever since you started; it's almost animalistic how you really try to get her to cum as hard as she can. You can almost feel her orgasm build up in her body. Her breathing grows shorter and more erratic and she's mewling in her throat – so close. You can taste it.
"You like my cock don't you?" You reach around, give her tits a squeeze. She almost cums from that.
"Yes," she whimpers. You know she's not playing the part – she genuinely wants your dick. "Please... Let me cum on your cock..."
(You don’t admit it verbally, but you like it when girls beg. Nayeon never does, and it’s a novelty now that she’s doing it.)
You hold her down with an arm on her lower back. Her head's to the side, hair plastered to her skin with sweat as you fuck her from behind. She's panting and whining, begging you for more; “please please more”. You like that. It's cute. You wanna hear it. So you go harder. She screams into the sheets, but the sounds are muffled, but she's pretty loud nonetheless. It's good to see her let go like this, really let loose and not hold anything back. There's a fire that she ignites inside you. "Fuck..."
It's like a little fire that ignites and grows bigger, burns brighter with each thrust. She's so tight and so fucking wet; the wet sounds that accompany each thrust really turns you on. Your body feels so hot. There's this warmth that spreads across your entire body with every passing second. She moans and cries, whimpering as you nail her into the sheets.
Then there's this moment of clarity that hits her, and she looks back at you – she smiles, eyes half-lidded and she whispers something to you.
"Cum inside me," she says. She's shaking. "Please..."
Your rhythm grows sloppy as you edge closer and closer to the climax. Your cock feels like it's growing harder, bigger – there's this throb in it and your body's all tensed up. It feels like something inside you is going to snap, break loose and make you cum. It's not the best feeling in the world, but the way it grows stronger and stronger really makes your toes curl and your skin tingle.
And she's so beautiful like this: spread out for you, skin sweaty, cheeks red, and ass in the air as you fuck her. It's the best way you can ever imagine her – she looks like she belongs to you like this, her body a playground for your lust, and she wants it just as much as you do. There's a mutual feeling between the two of you.
The pleasure comes and it hits you like a train. It feels like something inside your balls tighten and then snap and then there's this euphoria that envelopes you. You feel your cock pulse with every burst of semen that spurts from the head. Yuna cries as her pussy gets filled and filled, until it's running out and dripping from her cunt, but you can't stop fucking her. You want to feel that sweet, sweet release, to see how long it will go, to really enjoy this moment. She feels amazing, and your heart pounds and you want her so badly. You need her.
She cums — It's a hard, shuddering orgasm that wracks her body. She cums and she screams for you, and she makes a mess of herself as promised. It's really fucking hot – the way she completely loses her composure and her legs shudder violently as you pound her pussy through it all, soaking in the perverted pleasure she brings you while you fuck her freshly-creamed pussy till your hips kinda give. You collapse on her, panting and grunting on top of her while she struggles to breathe.
In this moment. She isn’t like Nayeon in the slightest.
She’s a welcome change of pace. 
***
“Thinking back… There were signs in highschool that I probably ignored.”
And the water sloshes around as Yuna shifts a little in the bathtub. She’s found it to her liking to prop herself up against you, let her head rest against your shoulder while you hold her close to your chest. You’ll admit that it’s a bit of an awkward arrangement, but there was no way you could just not indulge her after she asks to take a bath with you. 
“The worst part is that they weren’t even, like, subtle,” she tells you, just sort of staring out into the distance while she talked.  “He’d punch things when he got angry, even slapped a referee after he lost a game… Love is blind huh?”
You held her a little closer to your chest. “It’s okay. We all make mistakes.”
“Yeah, well, my mistakes left me with no physical scars but the emotional ones are plenty.”
You hope she can’t see you grimace. It’s hard to recover from these types of things, especially if you realise the stupidity behind your decisions.
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” you tell her, and you really mean it. “It must be difficult… You know: recovering.”
The front of her lips curve up. “Thanks. I try not to let it weigh me down too much but… Just kinda happens to come out every now and then.”
You get it, you really do. Not that you’ve been in an abusive relationship like hers before, but you understand what it’s like. It’s sad really: being unable to break out of a cycle that hurts you the more you try to stay and change it. You admire the young girl’s strength, envy her courage for finally breaking the cycle and freeing herself for good. 
“You’re safe now,” you whisper, moving some wet hair out of her face. “I will never hurt you. I promise.”
She smiles at that. “Thank you,” she says while pinching your cheek, “that means a lot to me.”
Then you bask in the silence for a little, taking in the smell of the bath salts and the feel of Yuna’s soft skin against yours. It’s a pretty romantic moment till Yuna’s bluntness breaks it.
“I’m, like, really wet,” she announces, gazing up at you from her position on your shoulder. You laugh. 
“Didn’t you just cum?”
“Good things come in threes.”
She fixes you with a look, like she knows that you’re gonna give in.
(And you know what? She’s absolutely right. Can’t say no to a pretty girl.)
***
“Well hello to you too.”
Nayeon sounds almost angry on the other side of the video call. On your end, you have your phone’s back camera pointed to the current situation: Yuna atop of you, thighs locked around your cock as her hips rock up and down steadily. Her thighs are warm, pillowy; makes you grit your teeth while she moves languidly.
“Nayeon!” Yuna exclaims, almost too saccharine as she keeps her eyes locked on yours. “We were just thinking of you.”
She isn’t lying. Just moments before her call came, you two were making a joke about how she’d never let you get away with as much as Yuna did. It was a pretty humorous conversation, almost comedic if it wasn’t for the fact that Yuna was tugging your sweats down your thighs. 
But, there she was, still moving in your lap. Yuna leans forward, hands planted on your chest as she continues to rock her hips, ass bouncing a little against your thighs.
You can hear a scoff from Nayeon.
Yuna turns her head to the screen, eyes looking at the phone but her hands still pushing on your chest, fingers flexing. "We really were," she whines, lips jutted into a pout. You watch her as her lips curl into a small smirk just a second later, her teeth peeking out, and you can feel your face grow warm when she looks back at you.
"Tell her what we were talking about," she orders, her voice soft but firm.
"Um...we were just, um—" you stutter out, and your throat goes dry as her hips keep going, her thigh muscles clenching around you.
"Go on."
"We were...just, uh, talking about how you're not here," you finally manage to get out.
"Aww, baby...” Nayeon is smiling. It’s sarcasm by the way; she's enjoying this as much as Yuna is.
Yuna's pout returns. "See, Nayeon?" She continues to roll her hips against you. "We were thinking of you,” she reiterates, making sure she has your eye contact while she fucks you with her heavenly thighs, “I know it's not fair that you aren't here, but he’s just so fucking hard… Someone had to do something about it.”
Nayeon gives a snort. “You two are lucky I’m not alone in my room right now.”
“And what would happen if you were?” Yuna challenges. You don’t recall her being this daring.
“Playing with myself, obviously,” the older girl replies. “You think I’d just watch you get him off with your thighs? I barely let that boy dominate me.”
Yuna chuckles and smiles your way.
“What a horrible situation,” she whispers, moving a little faster. “Luckily I’m here to pamper him.”
“And he’d better enjoy it while it lasts,” Nayeon smirks. “When I’m home he’s–”
Yuna cuts her off by hanging up. You stare wide-eyed in shock as she tosses the phone aside. “Too noisy. I can’t multitask,” she explains. “Call her back later. Let’s get back to it.”
With that, Yuna leans over you, her chest pressed to yours as she gives a slow grind in your lap, her hips moving in a figure eight. Your head rolls back, and you release a loud, drawn-out groan. Her thighs are so smooth against your cock, so warm, so soft. You wish you could bury your face in between them. The way her hips move is incredible; she knows what she wants, knows how to work you.
You try to sit up, but Yuna pushes you back down by your chest. Her lips curve into a smile, and she shakes her head.
"Stay down," she whispers, "you don't wanna ruin this, do you?"
"No."
"Then stay still. I'll make it quick."
Quick is an understatement. She's barely rocking her hips in your lap, but with how soft her thighs are, and the way they grip you like a vice, you know it'll probably be over sooner or later. You make a note to try and make this last for as long as you can. Yuna leans over you again, hands on your chest as she gives a rough buck of her hips. Your head snaps back and you let out a loud groan. She continues to grind against you, slowly, making sure to hit every sensitive part of your cock. You reach up to grab her hips, but she slaps your hands away.
"No touching," she tuts. "Let me do the work. You relax."
Your lips open to protest. She shushes you with a finger. 
"Own me later," she whispers, sliding the finger down to the point where your collar bones meet. "Let me take care of you now."
You gulp, nodding.
Yuna's hands settle back on your chest, nails dragging across your skin, making you shiver. She's looking at you with those doe eyes, those pretty pink lips curled into a smirk as her hips pick up pace. The friction is incredible; Yuna's thighs feel like silk wrapped around your cock, warm and soft; the way they're clamped around you has you seeing stars. Your breath hitches in your throat when Yuna moves faster.
(And another thing about her: she’s so fucking good at pleasuring you that she always makes you lose your ability to think.)
"Fuck..." You moan, throwing your head back. "Feels so good..."
She smiles at that, giving a small hum of approval. "Does it?" She asks. "Good."
You look up at her, watching her roll her hips. She's really putting in work, moving in all sorts of ways to make sure you're feeling the most pleasure. It's not lost on you; she's an angel, and you thank every god there is for having her. Your cock throbs between her thighs, aching. The head is flushed red and leaking precum, which smears all over Yuna's thighs as she keeps moving. Your toes curl in the sheets, fingers gripping the fabric as she rides you.
Yuna continues to roll her hips, giving a few rough bucks when she feels like it. You're groaning and moaning under her, letting out all kinds of sounds that make her chuckle. She's having fun teasing you, getting you close to orgasm only to slow down and watch your face contort with pleasure.
"Don't cum yet," she says softly, running her hands over your chest. "We just started."
"I-I know," you reply, breathless. "But I...fuck..."
Yuna giggles. "That good?"
"Yeah. Fuck… don't stop."
"Wouldn't dream of it, baby."
You throw your head back, your hips twitching under hers. Yuna chuckles, keeping her thighs locked around you. Your cock aches, throbbing between them as she moves; precum drips onto her legs, which only makes the slide easier for her. You're starting to sweat; your body's temperature rises with each passing moment, the feeling of her thighs overwhelming you. Yuna's so warm against you, so soft and pliable; you can't help but imagine her underneath you, moaning and writhing as you fuck her. The thought has you bucking your hips up into her, causing her to gasp.
"Someone's eager," Yuna teases, running a hand through her hair. "What's going through your head?"
You groan in response, your hands sliding down her sides to grip her hips. "Nothing," you lie.
She snorts, knowing full well what's on your mind.
"Liar." She rocks her hips forward. "What are you thinking about?"
You gaze at her for a moment. "If I said you... Would you believe me?"
She rolls her eyes. "Wouldn't put it past you," she stops moving for a bit to give you the attention. "What are you doing to me in your head?"
"I never said–"
"Please," she interjects "We both know you want to bend me over the nearest fucking surface and fuck my brains out right now."
Her thighs start moving again. Your head falls back and a moan escapes you.
"Can you blame me?" You say. She smiles.
"No, not really. I am pretty hot anyway."
(There’s that little bit of Nayeon in her.)
You nod. "You're so fucking good to me." You manage to get out.
Yuna chuckles. "Wanna know something?"
"What?"
"I love the way you feel between my thighs," she tells you. "And I love how you sound when I'm making you feel good. I want to hear more of it."
With that, she leans forward, pressing her lips to yours. Her hips keep moving, rolling against you at an agonizing pace, causing you to moan against her mouth. She's quite literally giving you everything you want, injecting some mischief here and there that makes it feel like Nayeon possesses her sporadically. She's more gentle though, more kind and more caring too. Okay, not that Nayeon doesn't care, but she's kinda ruthless when she's horny. Yuna's much more caring, and a lot more willing to be a pillow princess. She likes being pampered. She likes being loved on and adored. She wants to be fucked and she wants to be taken care of. It's a mutual feeling between the two of you. You'll worship her, and she'll love you for it.
Yuna pulls away from the kiss, moving to your neck. She gives it a few open-mouthed kisses, nipping at your skin. You sigh, letting your head fall back. She continues to rock her hips against yours, grinding down onto your cock. Her hands slide up your chest, nails digging into your skin, eliciting a gasp from you. 
Yuna chuckles, kissing up your neck to your ear. "You're so big," she whispers. "So fucking thick... Feels so good."
You groan, fingers gripping her hips.
"You like that?" She asks. "Like me talking about your cock?"
You nod.
"I love it," and she talks with a purr. "Love how it feels inside me... How deep it goes... How hard it throbs..." She whispers—no. Moans all this right into your ear. "Fuck... I really want this thing inside me right now."
"Later," you quickly propose. "Please?"
She laughs — sweet and melodic. "Never said that I would put it inside of me," she reminds you. "Now, you zip up and make a mess for me, okay?"
You moan in response, nodding your head. You can't deny her, not when she's making you feel this good.
Yuna keeps moving against you, her thighs clenching around your cock. She moves slowly, her hips rolling at an agonizing pace. Your cock is aching; you can feel yourself getting closer to your climax with each passing second.  Your eyes are glued to her thighs, watching them move. She looks so good on top of you. Her hips are hypnotic; your mind spins as she fucks you.
Your eyes move up to her face. Her eyes are closed, lips parted slightly as she focuses on her movements. Her hands are still on your chest, fingers flexing. Her breathing is heavy, warm breath fanning over your skin. You take in her beauty, letting it consume you. She's so fucking perfect, so angelic. Hard to believe how much of a slut she can be.
"I'm close," you manage to get out. "Yuna..."
She smiles. "Go ahead, baby."
"Don't wanna make a mess." You say.
Yuna giggles, her hips picking up pace. "Too late for that."
That's what sends you over the edge. 
You cum; it’s fucking messy. 
Cum fills the space between your dick and her thighs, slathering and flowing and spurting onto everything it can possibly get on. It slicks the insides of her legs; gets on her ass a little and pools beneath her crotch. Yuna hums in satisfaction, a smile on her face as she turns behind her to survey the damage.
“Clean up on aisle four,” she mutters, reaching back to wipe some cum off her ass. She sends her fingers into her mouth – makes a big show of sucking them clean. You can’t help but chuckle a little at the sight.
“Hey,” you call her, your hands reaching down to grope her ass. “I’m planning to change the sheets tomorrow.”
She gives you a look. “Are you saying that cause you’re actually going to? Or because you just want to fuck me right now.”
Oh and she’s perceiving you almost too accurately. You won’t admit your answer, even to yourself. 
“I dunno,” you shrug. “Either way: we’ll have to change the sheets.”
Yuna matches your game.
“Call Nayeon back,” she instructs. “Let’s show her what she’s missing.”
***
Again: Nayeon just kinda chooses when and where to be a bit of a minx, and you just have to roll with it really.
The decision—for today—was made somewhere halfway through the drive to fetch Yuna. You were just talking about how Nayeon had picked that girl up, and her voice trails off as she passes the exit sign. She just keeps on driving while pretending to look like she’s in the right. The GPS doesn’t lie though: it keeps on promoting her to U-turn at every opportunity that’s available to her. She ignores it of course, kinda tunes it out even though the instructions are really getting annoying now (and not to mention it sounds like it’s demanding her to go back this instant, like a mum who just can’t get her kid to listen). It’s like how she ignores you lately.
“She’s probably gonna think we crashed or something,” you muse, lurching in your seat a little as she takes a left. “We’re like, what, fifteen minutes late or something?”
“Nah,” Nayeon quickly refutes. She stops to let a BMW swerve around the corner before she gently taps on the gas. “She’s probably still packing her things,” the turning signal clicks at a steady tempo, stops after she takes the 3rd exit on the roundabout, “maybe even settling a bit of her make up or whatever.”
This is the most she’s spoken since her return.
You hazard a glance at the GPS. The blue line leading you back to your intended destination only grows longer, sometimes glitching a little as the turn of Nayeon’s car gives it the illusion that you’re heading back when she’s really just turning into a one way street. You can’t tell if she knows where she’s going or if she’s just throwing out random bullshit.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she grumbles, casting a rather nasty glance your way. “I’m just taking a shortcut. That’s all.”
(Is it not painfully obvious where this is going?)
And a few minutes later, she’s got you gritting your teeth in the backseat of her car. No smug remarks from her — she has your balls in her mouth and she’s getting real sloppy in some alley she’s parked in. You don’t know where to begin, where to find solid reasoning for what you’re witnessing and feeling right now. It’s pretty fucking asinine (and she probably knows that it is) and damn straight goes against all branches of logic. In no world does she have a valid reason for being this horny at 11am on a Saturday.
(Actually, there’s one reason: she just feels like it.)
“You do know that we’re both astronomically fucked if anyone so much as glances our way.” You’re ashamed to admit that this actually has you hissing, partly out of annoyance and partly out of pleasure. “You’re fucking ridiculous. I hope you know that.”
Nayeon spits on your cock. Her hands close into a fist around your shaft, her eyes almost empty as she spreads her saliva in a close to even layer over you. “Are you quite done?” She asks. The emptiness in her voice is kinda scary. It makes her sound exasperated, like she’s sick of your reasonings. “You know, you talk an awful lot for someone who literally writhes when I quite fucking literally touch your cock. Don’t act tough on me. We both know who you are. We both know you’re my toy.”
Figuring out if this is part of the bit is the hardest part of your predicament. She plays too much as of late: with her eyes, her tone, her facial expressions… Sometimes it makes you wonder if she really keeps you around just to satisfy her cock cravings or if she really wants you around. Ever since she’s gotten back, it feels like she’s been fucking you and Yuna with nothing but pure hate. You feel it in her eyes, in the violent buck of her hips when she rides you or even in the way she spanks Yuna with a little too much glee. It confounds you; admittedly: you’re petrified of the possibility that she’s straight up jealous of how your relationship with Yuna’s been going since she roped her into this mess.
You can’t help it. You need to know.
You grab her by the wrist, a little harder than you’d like but it’ll have to do. “Stop,” and you don’t mean to be assertive, but it’s all you can summon now. “I need you to answer me honestly.”
In the passenger-side seat, Nayeon fixes her gaze on yours. She tries to struggle from your grasp; you keep a firm grip.
“What are we?” you ask, straightforward; direct. You’ve been with Yuna enough times to know that this’ll elicit an honest response from her. “Cause it just feels like I’m just your piece of meat to fuck and own. We don’t talk, you don’t even look at me when we go to sleep… What are we Nayeon?”
And it makes her freeze. Your sincerity is scary to her — ropes her into your thoughts more than you usually do. She’s silent, face blanker than paper. Her fingers on the hand that you’ve got in your grasp curl a little. “We’re just fuck buddies… That’s all.”
You just stare at her for a second, soak in the weight of that statement. “Then why does it feel like you’re jealous of Yuna?”
“I’m not. What are you even…” You can tell she’s surprised — her eyes do that thing where they widen, and then she blinks. Your question is loaded to her: it catches her in a place where she’s made privy to the fact that her emotions are more out there and perceptible than she’d like.
You raise an eyebrow. “Come on… We both know that’s not true.”
Her plump lips purse. She looks away for a moment.
“And what would you do if I said I was jealous?” she raises. “Kick her out? Stop fucking her?”
She raises a valid argument. Frankly, you didn’t bring this up with the end goal of sorting this out. You just wanted the older girl to accept her emotions, maybe acknowledge that it’s a little petty and then kinda just move on. Of course, nothing with Nayeon is ever really that simple.
“You’re the one that brought her into this,” you remind her, partly because you feel like she isn’t acknowledging her fault in this situation and partly because you have nothing else to say.
She rips her hand away. “So it’s my fault then?”
“What?” you sit up a little in your seat. “No. That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Then what are you saying?”
Her eyes sear your soul with her frustration. This hurts her more than you think. “I’m saying we’re both a little guilty here,” you clarify. “We both have a part to play in how you feel, so maybe we should just talk this out.”
She goes quiet. Too quiet considering the circumstance.
“Later.” She decides. “I think better with a load inside of me.”
***
So to reiterate: they're similar but kinda different. 
“Jesus… Did you really have to get it on my dress?” Nayeon’s clearly pissed. The wet wipe in her hand rubs at the stain of her dress furiously, as if the aggressive motion will kinda just get it out magically. Yuna retires into your arms, her sweat-matted hair sticking to your chest a little. The syntax behind how you got to this point is more complicated that you’d care to elaborate on, but let’s just say: Nayeon was happier a second ago…
(Okay but to be fair: her dress was in the way when you pulled out. So it’s like, half your fault, but you like to play the victim.)
“Relax,” Yuna assures her senior. “It’ll wash right off.”
Nayeon clicks her tongue in annoyance. “You stop defending him. He knows what he’s done.”
Yuna giggles. She smiles up at you. “Yeah… He does.”
They don’t know it, but they’ve got a pretty good dynamic going: Mother-daughter; Spicy and Sweet; Sour Cream and Onion. They contrast, diverge; but they compliment each other almost perfectly. 
(It’s no family reunion; but it’s dinner and diatribes from here on out.)
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. Hope you will be full of joy and fulfill your dreams next year!
Anyway! This is lokwey the start of a series where I just kinda explore more filthy and complicated things, stuff that’s just not quite right but somehow works. I won’t be following the same idols and people, so this isn’t exactly an interlinked series. Hard to explain but you guys can just come to your own conclusions really.
~Nichu
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starkeynation · 3 days ago
Text
I love you, I’m sorry
A letter from reader to Rafe
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Content: Angst, like PURE sad, the lamp looks weird, based on the song I love you, I’m sorry by Gracie Abrams (may or may not be accurate)
A/N: about that cliffhanger and happy ending, I changed my mind… also ignore any writing mistakes if there’s any and this was kinda rushed so I hope it still turns out good
Masterlist
dividers from @anitalenia
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Rafe,
It is Saturday night. I should be out doing something, partying or whatever to enjoy myself, yet here i am, pen in hand, finding myself writing to you again. I know this letter will never reach you- it’ll end up crumpled at the bottom of my drawer or burned to ashes. Still, I can’t seem to stop myself.
It has been exactly two august ago since everything fell apart. I remember the way I laid it all out, raw, I wanted to be real, hoping that honesty would mend us. We weren’t perfect. Hell, we were far from it. We fought like fire and gasoline, burning everything we touched. Jealousy leads us to mistrust each other but even then, I didn’t think it would end the way it did. I never thought that fight would be the last..the final, devastating blow before you ghosted me and blocked me everywhere.
I swear it wasn’t my intention to break up with you, I thought by exposing the cracks, we could patch them together. Instead, the truth just ended up pushing you away. When you drove off in your Benz and left me standing at my gate, it felt like everything had stopped. The time, the world, my heart…everything froze. I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to scream, I wanted to stop you, beg you to stay, to tell you that we could still save us but you didn’t look back, and i was too late.
Now, i watch you from a distance as you become successful, helping your dad doing business, running Cameron’s development like you were born to do it. I heard your name whispered in admiration at the club where I work, how you charm people the way you trained for. And you know what? I’m so so proud of you Rafe. I always knew you had it in you. I’ll be rooting for you always, even from the shadows.
Maybe two summers from now we’ll be talking again at some point, exchange smiles, our lives untangled and we’re cool again. I can picture you’ll be in your family’s jet, travelling, and me, on my boat moving on with our own lives. By then, i hope..im actually ready to move on. I know you’ve already moved on- I mean, why wouldn’t you? Still, there’s part of me wish that you wouldn’t yet, and maybe, just maybe, you would take me back.
But that’s just selfish isn’t it? I was selfish when we were together too. I made everything about me, i was inconsiderate, I turn something small into raging battles. I didn’t listen, didn’t see you for who you were. I’m ashamed of the person I was, of the mistakes I made. After everything i did, I’m surprised you haven’t send someone to kill me yet.
Lately I find myself sitting on the porch, watching sunsets like we used to, with a glass of something strong in my hand. I laugh at myself, at the crash I made, because what else can I do? It’s a twisted kind of coping—laughing at my own heartbreak. It doesn’t feel real and it’s really hard to let go but i guess that’s just the way life goes.
I know i was a dick, Rafe. I had too many flaws to count but as sick as it sounds, I loved you first. You’ll always be my first love. You were the best and the worst thing that ever happened to me, a storm that left me shattered but alive. Your love had impact me deeply, it is carved in my soul. No matter where we are, i want you to know that I’ll carry the past and the weight of my mistakes with me. Trust me, it will always, haunt me.
I regret every second for not treating you well, for not being the person you needed. Lastly, i want you to know that I still, truly, deeply, love you, I’m sorry.
*Ding* you heard the bell rings. You rush downstairs to answer the door.
“Pizza delivery”, says the delivery boy standing in front of you. You almost forgot you ordered one, an hour ago. You take your prepaid alfredo chicken pizza and thank him. It was Rafe’s favourite pizza, you’re not sure if it’s still his favourite though. After shutting the door, you walk to your kitchen.
Just two seconds later, *ding* the bell rings again. Did the delivery boy forget anything? You thought.
You open the door, “yes-“ you pause. You couldn’t believe it, standing right in front of you,
“Topper?”
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“Topper what are you doing here?” you ask, your voice laced with confusion.
He then steps aside and reveals a man behind him, lying on the steps of your porch- a man whose silhouette you’d recognize anywhere. “Rafe,” you whisper.
“Shit I’m sorry to bother you but this dumbass got into an accident for driving while he’s high,” Topper blurts out, panickly.
Your brow furrowing and your confusion deepens. You walk closer to Rafe and spot the blood dripping from his head, “Accident? What? Then why do you bring him here instead of the hospital?” You ask, your voice sharp, slicing through the chaos of the moment.
“He won’t let me. He insisted I bring him here to see you,” Topper explains.
“Y/n,” Rafe speaks up, his voice low and strained.
Your heart skips a beat. It’s like the universe has stopped spinning again. This is the first time you hear him calling your name after two whole years.
“Hey Rafe, you’re bleeding,” you say, your voice mix with feelings.
“I’m fine,” he says, giving a soft, disarming smile while trying to sit up.
You instruct Topper to go find some cloth to stop the bleeding. As he dissapears, you sit on your knees facing to Rafe, “Rafe, what happened? Why are you here?” you ask, still have no clue of what’s going on here.
“I wanted to see you,” he replies, putting on that damn smile again, the one that’s always managed to unravel you. “I miss you, y/n.”
Your face goes pale, your eyes widens, the words hang in the hair, heavy and unexpected. “Rafe, you’re drunk,” you accuse, trying to make sense of what’s happening right now.
“No, I’m not, i swear I’m very conscious right now,” he insists, his voice firm. You’re still not sure if he’s telling the truth or not. “I really miss you, y/n,” he continues, his voice low but still clear for you to hear it.
Your heart aches, torn between disbelief and the undeniable pull of his words. “How hard did you hit your head? God, you’re still bleeding. We need to see a doctor,” you say, trying to stand up, but he grabs your hand, pulling you back down.
“Stop it, I’m fine i swear…this is nothing,” he says waving off the concern. Just then, Topper returns with a towel in his hand. He hands the towel to you and says, “dude, are you sure you’re okay? When i saw your car there were smokes everywhere. Looks like you hit that tree pretty hard,” his voice fill with concern.
“I’m fine Top, just go. I need to talk to y/n,” Rafe says with a dismissive wave. Topper hesitates, he looks at you for confirmation as if you’re the one in charge here. You nod at him, signalling an approval, “s’okay Top i can handle this.”
“Okay, just call me if anything happens,” he says. “Thank you,” you mutter softly to Topper as he’s leaving towards his car.
With Topper gone, you shift your focus back to Rafe. You take the towel and start dabbing on the blood on his forehead, “we still need to get this stitched up,” you say. Rafe then grabs your wrist, his grip firm but not forceful, “look at me,” he demands.
You look at him straight in the eyes, drowning in his blue eyes. It’s overwhelming- staring at the man that you love but no longer yours.
“I do mean what i said, i miss you y/n and i wanted to see you,” he says, his tone steady and sure.
“But why now?” You ask, your voice breaking under the weight of the question.
“Sar..Sarah told me tonight that you’ve been writing letters about me. She found them stashed under your bed,” he says, hesitantly.
Your stomach drops and you shake your head in disbelief, “God…i knew it there was something wrong. She was acting so weird when she left this morning,” you mutter.
“So it’s true? You’ve been writing about me?”
Your face is turning red, you’re struggling to find the words. “I- yes…I’ve been writing letters. Pretending like I’m gonna send it to you but i never do,” you stutter.
“Why didn’t you just send them?” He presses, his voice low, almost pleading.
“You know why Rafe…you’ve moved on. You blocked me few months after we broke up. You’re thriving now with your job, you got your whole life together, and I- I was the reason why we broke up. I can’t just crawl my way back into your life like nothing happened,” you shatter, your voice breaking as you’re struggling to control your tears.
Rafe shakes his head. He brushes his thumb over your knuckles and kisses it. “You’re wrong y/n, you’re absolutely wrong. I’ve been doing nothing over the past two years except than trying to forget about you. That’s why I’ve been doing all these jobs, thinking it could distract me, but no,” he shakes his head again. “Nothing could make me stop thinking about you.”
His confession leaves you breathless, your tears streaming down your face as he continues. “About the blocking and disappearing, I’m really sorry, I was a coward. The truth is, that day i came to your house to apologize. Then, as I stood outside, i saw you were laughing with jj through your window. I knew you guys were not together cause after jj left, I may or may not have confronted him…” he then mouthed sorry. “But then, I remember the way you looked so happy when you’re with him. At that time, I knew I had to let you go cause you deserve someone better and you deserve to be happy so that’s why I blocked you..as if that makes any difference.”
You idiot,” you scoff. “I never wanted anyone else, only you Rafe, only you. You’re the only one who could truly make me happy.”
His eyes glisten, his smile soft and hesitant. “Please forgive me y/n, I swear I’m a better person now and I love- I love you, so much. I still do.”
You reach up, caress his cheek and pull him in for a kiss. “I love you too Rafe,” you whisper. He cups your face and returns the kiss. The kiss is passionate, slow and tender. His lip is so soft and only god knows how much you miss this. The world fades around you, leaving only the two of you, two broken pieces finding their way back to each other.
You pull away from his face and let out a giggle. “Why are you laughing?” He asks, can’t help but let out a soft giggle too.
“Before you came I was actually writing another letter for you,” you admit, a shy smile appears on your face.
“Oh really? Tell me about it baby,” he smirks. Your smile widens at the sound of the nickname that rolls out from his mouth. “Mm I miss that. You, calling me baby. Anyways, it’s in my room, wanna come in?” You ask.
He shakes his head, pulling you closer as he leans back against the stairs railing. “Hmm in a bit sweetheart, you can tell me here while we stargaze. I missed your porch- and mostly you, of course,” he replies with a faint smile.
So you do. You talk to him about the letter while your head rest on his shoulder and your fingers intertwined. “Lastly I wrote, I love you, I’m sorry,” you say, explaining the last content of the letter. But then, you realise he has gone quiet. His stillness unsettling. You glance up to him, “Rafe?” He’s not responding. You check his pulse but there is none. Panic sets in as you shake him, calling his name.
“Rafe”
“Rafe, wake up”
“Wake up!”
“Wake up!”
“Y/n”
“Y/n”
“Y/n, wake up”
You gasp, your heart is pounding like a drum. You’re sweating all over your body as reality crashes down. It was a nightmare.
“Hey..baby you okay?” You turn your head to your right and realise it’s Rafe. He’s okay, he’s alive and he’s sitting on the bed next to you. Relief floods through you like a tidal wave.
“Is it the nightmare again?” He asks. You nod, signalling him that he’s right.
“It’s okay baby I got you. Here, come back to sleep,” he says, gently pulling you into his arms. You smile and cuddle him, clinging to the illusion of safety his embrace provides. You close your eyes again trying to fall back to sleep till your alarm suddenly rings.
You wake up with a tear running down your cheek. You hit the snooze button and realise that was a dream and this time, it’s the true reality. You look to the other side of your bed, it’s empty. It always has been for quite a while now. The truth is, that night after Rafe collapsed, you called for an ambulance. On the way to the hospital, they try everything to make his heart beat again, but nothing works. It was too late. He had lost too many blood before that you weren’t aware of and that same night, Rafe had died in your arms.
It’s been 3 years since the tragic. You keep having the same dream almost every night. Part of you is grateful that you and Rafe had ended in good terms but another part of you knows that the truth is you’ll never get the chance to redeem yourself and be a better partner. There’s nothing remaining other than the memories that will haunt you forever.
Rafe, if you’re hearing this, I love you, I’m sorry.
Like and reblog if you want to kys after reading this😇☺️
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won4kiss · 2 days ago
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﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ────FOREVER SOUNDS PERFECT.
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(🐚) ── 𝓛EE HEESEUNG﹙희승﹚ ꒰ 𝓰. oneshot ៸ fluff ៸ established relationship ୨୧ㅤㅤ WARNiNGS : not proofread ៸ kissing ៸ petnames ៸ ❞ fiance! 𝓁ee heeseung x 𝑓! reader ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ꒰ WC : 0.6K ꒱ SYPNOSiS 𐙚 in the late hours of the night, you and heeseung indulge in a late night talk about your soon to be married future together .ᐟ ── LiBRARY
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THE APARTMENT WAS SILENT WITH YOUR THOUGHTS.
the world outside could be heard slightly from the open windows, but now, wrapped in lee heeseung’s arms, everything feels still and perfect.
he’s lying on his back, and you’re curled against his chest, your legs tangled like it’s second nature. his fingers play gently with yours, occasionally spinning the engagement ring on your finger like he still can’t believe it’s there.
“you’re thinking about something, aren’t you?” you say, tilting your head up to catch his gaze.
his lips twitch into a small grin, warm and familiar. “maybe.”
you raise an eyebrow, shifting slightly to lift yourself on your elbow. “okay mr. nonchalant, spill.” ── 𝖱𝖤𝖲𝖳 𝖡𝖤𝖫𝖮𝖶!
heeseung sighed dramatically, letting his head fall back against the pillow with a thud. “i was just thinking about our wedding.”
your feel your heart skip a beat, but you play it cool. “oh? what about it?”
he taps his chin as if he’s deep in thought. “i’m still debating if i should cry when i see you walking down the aisle or just faint on the spot. both feel very in character for me.”
you giggle at his words, hitting his chest lightly. “be serious, hee!”
“i am serious,” he insists, catching your hand and pressing a gentle kiss to your palm. “you’re going to look so beautiful. i’m probably gonna cry a little… just so you know.”
you roll your eyes affectionately, your cheeks pink and insides warm. “good. then i’ll cry too, and we’ll be a mess together.”
heeseung grins and tugs you down so you’re lying on his chest again—his arms wrap securely around you, like he’s afraid you might slip away.
“i was also thinking about our first dance.”
“really?”
“yeah.” his fingers traced lazy patterns on your back. “i don’t know what song we’ll pick, but i know i’m not letting you go, even when the song’s over. we’ll probably have to be dragged off the dance floor.”
you can’t help but smile at the image forming in your imagination. “god—you’re such a sap.”
“for you? always.” he presses a kiss to the top of your head, lingering on your skin.
“and then after the wedding… we’ll go somewhere far away for our honeymoon. somewhere with a beach, maybe. just us, no schedules, just sleeping in, exploring, eating too much good food.”
“sold,” you mumble, snuggling closer into his embrace if possible. “but you know the best part?”
“what?”
“coming home.” you trace small circles on his chest, where his heartbeat is steady and comforting.
“starting our life together. making breakfast on the weekends, falling asleep on the couch watching dumb movies, annoying you until you can’t take it anymore.”
heeseung chuckles, tilting your chin up so you’re nose to nose. “i love the sound of that.”
you grin. “even the annoying you part?”
“especially that part.” his voice softens, feeling the seriousness despite the teasing. “i want all of it. every boring, silly, annoying little moment.”
you lean up and press a soft kiss to his lips. he smiles into it, chasing after you when you pull back like he’s not done yet.
“we’re gonna have the best life,” he says so surely, eyes sparkling. “even if we burn dinner or lose our keys or—i don’t know, accidentally adopt five dogs someday.”
“accidentally?” you laugh.
he laughs too, tipping his head back against the pillow. “intentionally. whatever you desire, baby. as long as it’s with you.”
you smile, settling back into his arms, feeling so impossibly safe and loved. “forever sounds pretty nice.”
heeseung hums contentedly, his lips brushing your temple. “forever sounds perfect.”
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© WON4KISS 2024 do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.
NOTE. i love heeseung so much:( i think this will be my second to last fic of 2024!! my birthdays on tuesday that’s the only thing keeping me going rn ☹️ BUT HAIR APPOINTMENT ON THE 30TH GUESS WHOS GOING BLONDE🔥🔥🔥
୨୧ TAGLIST OPEN ‹𝟹 @mioons @nshmuras @suneng @pnghoon @shawnyle @laylasbunbunny @privareum @briefsaladfun @cyjzzl @sol3chu @txtlyn @d-dilemma @deezbin @iluvnikism @rikibwn @wonsprincess @niawonn @pockyyasii @kiss4noo @nineooooo @loves0ft @ancnymcnzjy @dazzlingjaeyun : COMMENT OR SEND AN ASK TBA.
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little-jana · 23 hours ago
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"Good Girl"
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Pairing: postprison!Spencer Reid x reader
Genre: steamy, 18+, fluff, no smut
Warnings: kissing, Spencer calling reader a good girl
Words: 3.4k
Summary: Spencer giving Reader a lot of compliments and one of them makes her blush a lot.
Spencer had been different since prison. Not entirely in ways the team would notice—he still rattled off statistics, quoted obscure literature, and beat everyone at chess. But when you’d known someone as deeply as I knew Spencer, even subtle shifts felt monumental. He was sharper now, his edges honed by experiences no one should have endured. But when it was just the two of us, in those quiet, stolen moments, he softened.
That’s why I stayed by his side tonight instead of joining the team for drinks. Spencer had waved off the invitation, saying he needed a quiet night, and when I hesitated to leave him alone, he’d asked me to stay. It wasn’t much—a shared meal and a chess game in his small apartment—but to me, it felt like everything.
“I can’t tell if you’re planning your next move or plotting my demise,” Spencer said, leaning back in his chair as he watched me.
“I can do both,” I said lightly, though the truth was, I’d been staring at the board for so long because I had no idea what to do.
He smirked, tilting his head slightly. “You’re stalling.”
“I’m thinking,” I corrected.
“You’ve been ‘thinking’ for six minutes and thirty-two seconds.”
“Are you timing me?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“No, but I glanced at the clock when you stopped moving your hand after your last turn.”
“Of course you did,” I muttered, my eyes flicking back to the board. “Not all of us have an IQ of 187, you know.”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. The soft light from the lamp behind him highlighted the sharp planes of his face, and for a second, I forgot what we were talking about.
“You’re better than you think,” he said, his voice low.
“Better at chess, or better in general?” I quipped, trying to deflect the heat rising in my cheeks.
Spencer didn’t answer right away. Instead, he studied me, his hazel eyes unblinking and intent.
“Both,” he said simply.
My heart skipped a beat, but I forced myself to focus. This was just Spencer being Spencer—kind and honest to a fault. It didn’t mean anything. Not really.
Finally, I made a move, sliding my bishop into place. I looked up at him triumphantly. “Your turn, genius.”
Spencer’s eyes flicked to the board, and he moved his queen with a casual grace that made my stomach sink. “Checkmate,” he said softly.
“What?” I leaned forward, scanning the board. He was right. Of course he was right.
“How?” I groaned, sitting back in my chair. “I was so careful!”
“That was a good game,” he said, his tone genuine. “You lasted longer than usual.”
I rolled my eyes. “Gee, thanks.”
“No, really,” he insisted. “Your defense has improved. That last move was smart.”
“Then how did I still lose?”
His lips quirked into a smile. “Because I’ve been playing chess since I was four, and you’ve only been playing for—”
“Three months,” I finished for him.
“Exactly,” he said, his smile widening. “But you’re learning fast. Good girl.”
The words hit me like a freight train. My cheeks burned, and I ducked my head, pretending to fiddle with the edge of the table.
“Something wrong?” Spencer asked, his voice tinged with concern.
“No,” I said quickly, my voice higher than usual. “I’m fine.”
“You’re blushing,” he observed, tilting his head.
“I’m not,” I lied, even though I could feel the heat spreading down my neck.
His lips twitched, like he was fighting a smile. “You’re a terrible liar.”
“I’m not lying,” I said weakly, avoiding his gaze.
“Hmm,” he hummed, his tone teasing now.
Desperate to change the subject, I stood and grabbed the empty takeout containers from the coffee table. “I’m going to clean this up.”
Spencer followed me into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as I tossed the containers into the trash. His presence was a tangible thing, and I could feel his eyes on me as I wiped down the counter.
“Good,” he said softly.
I turned to face him, confused. “Good what?”
“Good technique,” he said, nodding toward the counter.
My cheeks flamed again. “Are you just saying that to mess with me?”
“No,” he said, his expression softening. “I mean it. You’re good at a lot of things, but you never give yourself credit.”
I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest. “I think you’re overestimating me,” I said quietly.
Spencer stepped closer, his gaze never leaving mine. “No, I’m not,” he said firmly. “You’re smart, capable, and one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. You’re… amazing.”
My breath caught in my throat. The sincerity in his voice, the intensity in his eyes—it was overwhelming.
“Spencer…” I trailed off, unsure of what to say.
He reached out, his fingers brushing against mine. The touch was so gentle, so careful, it made my chest ache. “You don’t believe me, do you?”
I shook my head slightly. “It’s not that… I just don’t see myself the way you do.”
His brows furrowed, and he tilted his head slightly. “You should. Because I’m not wrong.”
The silence between us stretched, thick with unspoken words. I felt like I was standing on the edge of something, and for once, I wasn’t afraid to fall.
“You’re doing it again,” he said softly.
“Doing what?”
“Doubting yourself,” he said, his voice laced with a quiet kind of sadness.
I opened my mouth to argue, but the look on his face stopped me.
“You’re a good girl,” he said, his voice low and steady. “You just don’t know it yet.”
My cheeks burned, and I looked down, unable to meet his gaze.
“Hey,” he said gently, tilting my chin up with his finger. “Don’t hide from me.”
“I’m not hiding,” I whispered, though the words felt hollow.
“Yes, you are,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “And you don’t have to.”
Before I could overthink it, I stepped closer, closing the small distance between us. “Spencer…”
“Yes?”
I hesitated, my heart hammering in my chest. But then his eyes softened, and I knew. I knew he would catch me if I fell.
“I want to kiss you,” I said, my voice barely audible.
Spencer's lips curved into a small, surprised smile. “You do?”
I nodded, my cheeks flaming. “Is that… okay?”
His eyes softened, a mixture of surprise and something deeper—something that made my heart race. “It’s more than okay,” he said quietly.
I barely had time to process his words before his hand cupped my cheek, his fingers feather-light against my skin. He was so close now, his breath warm against my lips. For a moment, we just stood there, suspended in time.
And then he kissed me.
The world fell away.
It started soft, tentative—like he was afraid I’d disappear if he moved too quickly. His lips brushed against mine once, twice, each touch careful and reverent. It was everything I hadn’t dared to hope for: tender, consuming, perfect.
But then I leaned in, my fingers clutching at the front of his cardigan, and something shifted. The kiss deepened, and Spencer’s hand slid from my cheek to the back of my neck, pulling me closer. His other hand rested lightly on my waist, steadying me as my knees threatened to give out beneath me.
The softness gave way to something bolder, more urgent. His lips moved against mine with a fervor that left me breathless, and I couldn’t stop the small gasp that escaped me. Spencer stilled for a fraction of a second, as if startled by the sound, but then his grip tightened ever so slightly, and I was lost all over again.
He tasted like peppermint tea and something uniquely Spencer, and I never wanted it to end.
When we finally pulled apart, I was dizzy, my head spinning in the best way possible. Spencer rested his forehead against mine, his breath coming in short, uneven bursts.
“That was…” He trailed off, his voice unsteady.
“Amazing,” I finished for him, my voice barely above a whisper.
He chuckled softly, the sound warm and intimate in the quiet of his apartment. “Yeah. Amazing.”
My cheeks flushed, but this time it wasn’t from embarrassment—it was from the way he was looking at me, like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he admitted, his voice low.
“Really?” I asked, my heart swelling at the thought.
He nodded, a small, shy smile playing at his lips. “But I didn’t think you felt the same way.”
“Spencer,” I said, shaking my head with a soft laugh. “How could I not? You’re… you.”
His brow furrowed slightly, like he was trying to puzzle out my words. “I’m not always good at recognizing when people care about me,” he said quietly.
“Well, I care,” I said firmly, my hand still clutching the front of his cardigan. “A lot.”
He smiled then, a real, unguarded smile that made my chest ache in the best way. “I care about you too,” he said softly.
For a moment, neither of us spoke. The air between us was thick with unspoken promises, the kind that didn’t need words to be understood.
Spencer’s hand slid from my waist to my hand, his fingers curling around mine. “You’re incredible, you know that?”
I looked away, flustered. “You’re just saying that.”
“I’m not,” he said, tugging me closer. “You’re smart, kind, and strong. And you’re a good girl.”
There it was again, the phrase that sent my heart into overdrive. My cheeks burned, and I bit my lip, trying to suppress the shy smile threatening to break free.
“You really like saying that, don’t you?” I teased, though my voice came out softer than I intended.
“Only because it’s true,” he said, his thumb brushing over my knuckles.
The sincerity in his voice, the way he was looking at me—I couldn’t take it. I hid my face in his chest, my fingers curling into the fabric of his cardigan.
“You’re impossible,” I mumbled against him, though my tone lacked any real heat.
“And you’re adorable when you’re flustered,” he replied, his voice filled with gentle amusement.
I tilted my head up to look at him, narrowing my eyes in mock indignation. “You’re lucky I like you.”
His smile widened, and he leaned down to press a soft kiss to my forehead. “I’m the lucky one.”
---
After we settled onto the couch, Spencer pulled a blanket over us, his arm draped around my shoulders as I rested my head against his chest. The quiet hum of the world outside seemed so far away, replaced by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
“Spencer?” I asked softly, my voice breaking the comfortable silence.
“Hmm?”
“This is real, right?” I tilted my head to look up at him, my eyes searching his face for any hint of hesitation.
He glanced down at me, his brows furrowing slightly. “Of course it’s real. Why would you think it’s not?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted, my cheeks flushing. “It just feels… too good to be true.”
Spencer’s hand came up to cradle my face, his thumb brushing lightly over my cheek. “It’s real,” he said firmly. “I’m real. And I’m not going anywhere.”
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them away, focusing instead on the warmth in his gaze. “Promise?”
“I promise,” he said softly, pressing another kiss to my forehead.
And in that moment, with his arms around me and his words echoing in my heart, I believed him.
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penkura · 2 days ago
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Holly Jolly Christmas
Summary: Your first Christmas with the Heart Pirates leads you out on deck for a few moments alone, only to be joined by your captain making sure you're okay.
Note: Just wanted to write something like this, Reader needing to step away to get their feelings in check and Law being willing to listen. :) Again, SORRY IT'S SO LATE. I went to see Sonic 3 this morning after church and it threw my whole day off. (:
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“Oh come on, stay inside with us! It’s chilly out there!”
“I’ll be fine, Ikkaku, I just need some air!”
She rolls her eyes at you but doesn’t fight, instead being pulled away by Shachi for a dance while you laugh and step outside to the deck of the Polar Tang, taking a breath and feeling at ease. The holiday party your crewmates were throwing was starting to overwhelm you, a small break is all you need, some fresh air and the chance to collect yourself. It’s still hard to believe this is your life sometimes, that you’re a member of this crew and have friends that care about you, including a captain that wants you to stay safe. People who like and want you around, it’s so different from before.
Your first year with the Heart Pirates was coming to an end, right at Christmas time too. Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think a pirate captain would request you to join them after seeing you protect yourself from some robbers on your home island, you just wanted to be able to eat that night and keep your hard-earned money from them. Apparently it was enough that day to convince Law you would be a good addition to his crew, for some reason you felt like you couldn’t say no even though he didn’t scare you or anything. It felt like something told you that day to go, not like you had anyone to return to at home anyway. Most people on your home island tolerates you enough to pay you for small jobs, but no one cared when you left, you’re sure of that.
It didn’t matter though, once you were introduced to everyone, they all took a quick liking to you and showed you the ropes, taught you how the ship worked and everything you’d need to know for life as a Heart Pirate. You learned everything as quickly as you could, you didn’t want to be seen and burden or dead weight on the crew, and not one of your new friends thought that about you, they all gave Law good reports when they’d help you with anything.
You’re grateful for everything that’s happened the last year, watching your crewmates have fun tonight and enjoy themselves. It’s really like having a family again.
“There a reason you’re out here alone?”
Hearing Law’s voice just makes you smile at him over your shoulder, before he joins you leaning against the railing. Of course he’d find you, he’s very good at that lately. Sometimes it feels like he's actively seeking you out, though that could just be wishful thinking.
“I just needed some air, captain.”
“You don’t have to call me that when it’s just us, I’ve told you that,” Law rolls his eyes while you giggle at him, “Doing okay?”
You nod with a small hum, you know he won’t press too hard to find out what’s going on, he already knows everything about you. Law never pushed but always listened when you wanted to talk about your previous life, when he noticed you weren’t doing well one day and it ended in you sobbing in his arms for hours about your lost family. He was awkward about it but didn’t make you leave until you were calm again, it made him realize there was more that you hadn’t told him at that point.
You two were more alike than Law ever expected when he brought you on.
“I need to thank you, Law,” he looks over to you with furrowed brows, but you’re not even looking at him, “If you all hadn’t shown up last year, I probably—”
“Enough, you don’t have to thank me again.”
You laugh with a nod as Law rolls his eyes once again, before you reach over and hug him. It’s taken some time but you’ve gotten Law used to these random hugs, he’s even started returning them like he does now.
“Still though, I’m grateful…getting to know all of you and feel like I belong somewhere again…thank you for saving me, captain.”
“…we’re all glad to have you here.”
You both stay like that for a while, even though it’s cold out and you know Law will want you inside shortly to get warm again.  But these moments with just the two of you are rare, some people would question your relationship if it’s just captain and subordinate or something else there, but you’re happy with where the two of you are.
“All right, you lovebirds, everyone’s waiting for you to do Secret Santa already!”
The two of you almost up away from each other, Law giving Penguin a glare while you look away, your older crewmate having a smirk on his face.
“I won’t tell anyone, don’t worry. But really, come on! Everyone wants to open gifts!”
“Fine,” Law sighs, waving Penguin and keeping a hand on your shoulder, “We’ll be there in a moment.”
“Sure thing, cap!”
Penguin runs off to get everyone ready, leaving you and Law alone against. He’s obviously annoyed but it makes you smile anyway. It might be more than either of you are ready for, but you grab his hand and starts walking back into the Polar Tang.
“Better not keep everyone waiting, right, Law?”
“Yeah…guess so…”
You’ll tease him about the light blush on his face later, but tonight, you’ll keep the smile he gives you later on to yourself, and the fact you were his Secret Santa will be your personal secret until Law questions you about it.
You’re the only one who could’ve given him those coins from your home island anyway.
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afterglowkatie · 13 hours ago
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more than christmas | a.k.
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alanna kennedy x reader | 1.4k | ‘I love how you look at me like I’m the only person in the world,’
❆♡────୨ holiday season blurb event ৎ────♡❆
You felt a little tingle in the back of your throat a few days before you were set to fly out. A slight ache in your head and the rest of your body the next day that followed. But you tried to ignore it, hoping that you weren’t really about to get sick right before Christmas.
You and Alanna had planned to spend Christmas with her family this year in Australia. You always looked forward to having a summer Christmas, even if it still felt weird to you to celebrate Christmas in anything other than winter and snow. 
A slight tingle and a dull ache was easy enough to hide from Alanna, knowing if she knew you weren’t feeling the best, you’d be seeing an overprotective girlfriend that wouldn’t stop asking if you were sure you were alright a million times before your trip. Not that you hated it, but you didn’t want to ruin your Christmas and holiday plans, you knew how much Alanna had been looking forward to going home and seeing her family. It was something you knew she really needed lately.
‘What do you mean you’re not packed yet?’ You stifled a small cough, noticing how dry and sore your throat was.
‘Babe, chill, there’s still plenty of time,’ Alanna wrapped her arms around you from behind, pulling you into her, mostly trying to stop you from pacing around the house stressing. You melted in her embrace, the comfort of her arms doing a lot to ease the ache that kept spreading over your tired body, ‘Plus we won’t need much anyway,’ Alanna whispered against your neck, pressing a kiss against it. 
You rolled your eyes, playfully pushing Alanna’s arms away from you despite your body protesting, ‘Yeah we all know the real reason you invite me to spend summer in Australia,’ 
Alanna held her hands up in defence, ‘What can I say? I’m a simple woman,’ She smirked, leaning back against the doorframe, arms crossed against her chest while she looked at you. Imagining how you’d look in a few days time, tanning on the beach.
The day of your flight to Australia, you’d barely slept, being kept away with the ache that had tripled in intensity in the last day. You couldn’t find a way to get comfy, tossing and turning until your alarm went off and you realised you hadn’t actually slept at all. 
You laid on your back, staring up at the ceiling, wishing there was a way to not feel so much pain, a way for your throat to not feel like it’s closing up. When Alanna woke up, she thought you’d turned the heating up too much with how much warmth was radiating. Though she properly woke up when she turned over, lazily laying an arm over your stomach, realising the heat she was feeling was radiating off of your skin.
‘Baby?’ Alanna leaned up on her elbow to look at you, her voice soft and still laced with sleep. You had your eyes closed, your head hurt too much to keep them open, ‘Are you feeling okay?’ She could tell you weren’t really asleep.
Internally you groaned, opening your eyes looking at Alanna. You did your best to smile, though it did nothing to alleviate your girlfriend’s concerns. Your eyes didn’t have the same sparkle they normally did, your smile was barely one if you could even count it as a smile and the biggest giveaway was that you weren’t already out the door talking her ear off about everything you were going to do when you landed on the other side of the world.
Everyone who knows you, knows how much you love your trips to Australia. So much you’d even considered moving over there one day. Retirement in Australia definitely, with Alanna, definitely sounded like a nice idea. So the minute you weren’t yapping about the trip and already halfway out the door before Alanna had the chance to wake up, she knew you weren’t feeling well. Getting you to admit to not feeling good is always a whole other story.
‘Yeah, I’m fine Lani,’ You inwardly cursed your voice for sounding so broken and small, the opposite to how you normally would sound, ‘Come on, there’s a plane waiting to take me to a place I can devour my weight in chilli eggs and soak up three times the sun we’d ever get to see here,’ You tried to laugh but stopped when you realised it’d send you into a coughing fit, not something you needed when you were trying to convince Alanna you were fine.
Trying to convince her was short lived when you willed your body to move, despite it protesting any movement, you sat up seemingly too fast. Your head span, ears rang and your legs and arms were shaking. Alanna was quick to sit up and get to you so you didn’t fall on the ground. Wrapping her arm around you, moving to sit more behind you.
Alanna had a permanent frown etched on her face, only growing in her concern for you. You held your head in your hands, keeping your eyes covered, avoiding any light. Alanna had slowly but successfully moved you back to laying down, making sure to avoid layering you in the blankets since you were still radiating enough heat to heat up your bedroom.
Pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, rubbing your back gently, watching you relax into her touch before tensing as a new wave of pain surged through your body. Her eyes flickering between you and your suitcases that were in the corner of your room, packed and waiting for your flight, ‘I’ll be back in a minute my love,’ You let out a little hum to acknowledge the defender.
Alanna did what any good girlfriend would’ve done, even if she knew you would hate it not liking when your plans don't happen because of you. But if she’d let you decide then despite feeling like you’d been hit by a truck, you’d both still be on your way to the airport right now. She cancelled your flights, called her family and promised to find another time to visit. Ultimately understanding the last thing anyone wanted you to do was sit through like 30+ hours of travelling.
‘I’m sorry for ruining your Christmas,’ You were slightly more alive than before, laying against Alanna’s chest, her arms wrapped around you were better than any kind of blanket you could’ve been wrapped up in.
‘You didn’t ruin anything,’ Alanna looked down at you, pressing a small kiss to the top of your head. When you looked like you were going to protest and disagree with her words she continued, ‘Being with you, making sure you’re okay, matters more to me than any Christmas plans we had,’ You didn’t have the energy to fight Alanna, instead letting her words drape over you like a comforting blanket. You hated when things didn’t go right, but you hated the thought of disappointing Alanna more.
You were still looking in the way of the tv, the quiet sounds of the movie filling the silence of your apartment. Alanna was still looking at you, a small smile on her lips, a softness in her eyes that she only held whenever she looked at you. Her hand found her way to your head, gently playing with your hair, knowing these little things did more to comfort you than anything else. She couldn’t help herself but hold you a little bit tighter against her and press more kisses to the top of your head, letting her lips linger.
Feeling your cheeks heat up, not from your slight fever, but knowing your girlfriend’s eyes were still on you. Even years later you still felt the swarm of butterflies in your stomach whenever Alanna’s gaze was purely on you. You both still felt the same way you did when you’d first met each other when Alanna moved to City.
You looked up at your girlfriend, your smile was bashful when you locked eyes with her, ‘I love how you look at me like I’m the only person in the world,’ Even more years could pass by and you know Alanna would still look at you like that, the thought that made you even more flustered under her gaze.
Alanna’s hands still gently comforting your aching body, she brushed a few strands of hair that had stuck to the light sweat that covered your skin from your small fever, her eyes never leaving yours, ‘Well, you are my world and the most important person to me, my love,’
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misotsukiiyeooo · 2 days ago
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"What's this one about?"
Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x F! reader
A/N: need me a Wonwoo. (I'm too lazy to add photos for this one sry!)
Genre: Fluff
Word count: 3.6k
Synopsis: Wonwoo's curious and interested in the book you're reading, so interested that he accidentally reads ahead.
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On a serene, cozy, rainy night, you stand in front of your kitchen counter, resting your book on it while being completely engrossed in the story.
So focused on the book, that you don't even notice your boyfriend, Wonwoo, walking into the kitchen.
He approaches from behind and wraps his big arms around you. "What's this one about, hmm?" Wonwoo asks, resting his chin on your shoulder.
With a smile, you reply, "It's about a girl on a mission to find out who killed her family. It's so good, and right now, the killer might be one of her best friends! Crazy, right?"
He listens intently as you speak, wanting to ensure you feel heard. He hums in response, "It does sound interesting."
You turn to face him and ask, "Want to read it with me? I could start over."
Wonwoo rests his hands on your waist as you talk. "Are you sure? Reading it over again doesn't sound fun."
You nod reassuringly. "I'm sure! Besides, I'm only like twenty pages in." You wait for his response.
He nods, "Alright then." You grin at him and take his hand, guiding him to your bedroom.
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The gentle sound of rain drizzles against the window, creating a soothing backdrop to your shared silence.
You're both comfortably tangled in bed, feeling his chest rise and fall as he breathes.
"Isn't the book good so far?" you ask. He chuckles lightly, tilting his head. “I’m still trying to figure out if I can trust the second best friend. There’s something off about him.”
"Right? I think he might be the killer!" you exclaim, pointing at the page as if to emphasize the character.
He chuckles again, wrapping his arms a little tighter around you. "Now that I think about it, he's always around when the girl finds pieces of evidence."
You nod, enjoying how invested Wonwoo is in the story. Resting your head on his chest, you continue to read.
As you delve deeper into the book, you begin to feel tired, lulled by the rhythm of the rain in the background.
Gradually, you fall asleep, with Wonwoo remaining oblivious to your quiet state.
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He gasps in shock as he figures out the plot twist. "He was the killer! We knew it!" He raises an eyebrow when he realizes you're not responding.
Wonwoo turns slightly to face you and scoffs. "Really? I guess I'll just have to pretend I didn't read it." He speaks softly, knowing you wouldn’t want to hear the details if he’s already finished the book.
He places the book beside the bed along with his glasses before kissing the top of your head and saying goodnight.
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Sequel You and Wonwoo are both resting on the couch, watching TV.
"By the way, did you finish the book last night?" you ask, looking up at him.
Wonwoo shakes his head. "No, I noticed you were sleeping, so I didn't finish it," he replies, lying.
"Really? Oh…well, I woke up in the middle of the night because I couldn't stop thinking about it. But guess what? You wouldn't believe who the killer was!" you respond excitedly.
He looks over nervously. "Who was it?" He pretends to be curious.
"The guy we were talking about earlier—the best friend!" you reveal dramatically.
Wonwoo covers his mouth with his hand, his eyes wide. "Really?!"
You pause, sinking into the couch. "You read it, didn’t you?" You don’t buy his poor acting.
He sighs in defeat. "I'm sorry, Doll. I thought you were awake, so I kept reading…"
You giggle at his small pout. "It's fine, I guess. I did wake up to read it without you too, so…I suppose we're even."
He smiles. "I guess so." You sit closer to him again and look at the TV. "By the way, you're a terrible actor."
You both burst into laughter, the sound echoing joyfully throughout the house.
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Reqs are open!!
Taglist!!
@jjunie-0 @black-swan-blog27 @allieyaaa @honglynights @bath1lda @hanniehae-yoon @wonunonu
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 22 hours ago
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Barlen
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Summary: The reader is visiting Beau's family for Christmas for the first time...
Pairing: Beau x reader
Word Count: 2,200ish
Warnings: language
A/N: This is a little continuation of Bad Day but it's not necessary to have read that prior to understand this fic. Happy Holidays everyone!
_________
Beau tugged nervously at the collar of his thick burgundy cable knit sweater across the room. Even from a distance, you could see the flush of his cheeks as he was spoken at by his uncle.
“Uncle Cal was talking shit about you coming, you know.” You turned to the left, Emily standing there in a quiet corner of the kitchen sipping on a small glass of white wine. She must have misunderstood your staring because she was quickly shaking her head. “Dad totally said I could have a little cause it’s Christmas-”
“I don’t care if you have some wine, Emily. What exactly do you mean Cal was talking shit about me?” She faked a wave over to Beau when he tried to urge her over, using exaggerated hand gestures likes she was caught up in a deep conversation with you. “Leaving your father to fend for himself, hm?”
“Yup. Last time I talked to Cal at Thanksgiving he was riding my ass about not having enough extra curiculars for college. Or a boyfriend. And for liking you.” 
“Sounds like a dick,” you said, Emily smirking as you took a long drag of your beer. “Beau warned me he’s the family busybody.”
“Yeah but like,” she said, reaching behind you and grabbing a sugar cookie off a tray, “He really doesn’t like you. Rory, that’s my freakishly tall cousin that’s at his girlfriends, well Cal is his dad’s dad and Rory said his grandpa was calling you a slut on Facebook cause he thinks you broke up my mom and dad which is so not true but…yeah, that’s the boomer mentality you’re dealing with. Oh, plus he hates you for being younger than dad so there’s that too.”
“I’m thirty four years old, not a child,” you grumbled, hiding the desire to shoot Cal a dirty look. Emily saw through it though, munching on her cookie with big brown eyes. “Em, you don’t think I’m too young for your father do you? Or-”
“Um, you can stop right there.” She caught your hesitation and rolled her eyes. “You’re both adults and I know you and dad were just friends when my parents were together. Shit, you used to babysit me.”
“I know but I wouldn’t blame you if you thought…” She threw her head back, muttering a curse under her breath. “I’m sure Cal isn’t the only member of your family that’s been hesitant of me.”
“They like you a hell of a lot more than mom.” You blinked, furrowing your brows. “Come on, Y//N. She left dad at his low. No one bats an eye at your age except for the dinosaur over there and trust me, I know dad wasn’t looking at you like that until way after my parents divorced. It wasn’t until after everything with the camp and Avery and you were taking care of me here and you went up to Montana for work that you guys were together.” 
You reached back and took your own cookie, chewing on it slowly. “Well…it made your dad feel better to have someone checking in on you and your mom while he was in Montana figuring out what to do.”
“And then he went on leave for three months to move back here for a bit and suddenly you were moving up to work for him when he went back.”
“You moved back there too if I recall,” you said, Emily smiling at you. “What?”
“I’m just saying, dad is…not the most emotionally available man…but he’s getting there and I know it’s because you have that something my mom doesn’t. So if Cal gives you shit, I got your back.”
“Oh, Emily, you’re as protective as your father,” said an older woman with graying hair and a gentle smile. “I already told Cal to leave Beau alone or I’d make good on that promise I made when I was thirteen.”
You looked between them, Emily smirking. “Cal teased Grandma about a boy she was dating, like relentlessly, and one day she said-”
“I’d bust his balls with a bat if he ever spoke that way about someone I cared about again,” she said, giving Cal a look across the room that could kill. “Especially when it comes to one of my boys and their wives.”
You choked on the beer in your mouth, Beau’s mom smacking you on the back as you coughed violently.
“Arms up, dear, there you go,” she said as you raised them, still coughing as she hit you harder than any woman in her seventies had any right to. You took a deep breath and lowered your arms, rubbing your chest as you caught your breath. “Emily, be a dear and go rescue your father from Cal. Tell him I need his help in the kitchen.”
“But then I’ll get stuck talking to him,” she whined.
“Well…call him a boomer and start talking about tik tok and he’ll just get confused and go have a smoke outside.” Emily sighed but went off across to the far side of the house, Beau’s mom wearing that same mischievous grin you caught on his face and Emily’s. “Don’t get me wrong. I love my big brother but he can be a bit of a dickhead. Beau’s too kind of a soul to tell his uncle to go fuck a cactus.”
You smiled, her arm looping through yours. “I hope I didn’t scare you with that wife comment.”
“No, not at all,” you said, his mom eyeing you up and down with a hum. “Beau and I have only been dating-”
“My boy was broken,” she said as you caught Emily reluctantly join her father and Cal over in the corner. You gave Beau’s mother your attention, her face softening. “And then he broke more and when he started to heal, Emily getting hurt broke him even more and you know him, he hides these things so well. Now…that boy over there is forty six years old and he talks about you like he’s fourteen and has his first crush. He healed the right way with you so you two kids, you do whatever you want to and I’ll deal with Cal, got it?”
“Yes, mam,” you said as Beau approached, heaving a sigh of relief.
“Thank you,” he breathed out, his mom slipping away with a smile. “I thought you needed help?”
“Heaven’s knows why’d you’d think that, Beau,” she said, humming as she skirted out of the kitchen and off to the family room. Beau looked back at you, tilting his head with an adorable confused look to his green eyes. 
“Your mom simply orchestrated an undercover op to get Emily to rescue you. Apparently I’m not as scary as your mom when I ask her to do such things,” you said, Beau smiling.
“Ah, well, she’s got grandma superpowers. You’re just a little detective. So not scary.”
“So not scary,” you said, Beau taking the beer from your hand and taking a sip, interlacing your fingers in the other. You let him lead you to the front of the house where you slipped on your boots and light jacket, Beau popping his feet into his dark brown leather cowboy ones. He opened the front door with a few fingers, tugging you out to his parent’s front porch on the outskirts of Houston.
“I’m sorry I keep leaving you alone in there to fend for yourself,” he said, leaning against the railing, passing the beer bottle back to you.
“Hey, we live in Montana. Your family misses you. I don’t mind sharing.” He smiled, looking out at the dark field across the street. You ducked under his arm, Beau wrapping his own over your shoulders, briefly kissing your temple. His sweater was soft against your cheek, his sharp inhale of your perfume making you wrap your arms around his waist and turn into his side.
“S’funny. This place doesn’t feel like home anymore.” You glanced up at him, Beau smirking and brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. He’d done that move a hundred times over but your breath was catching in your throat tonight as he grasped your chin, bringing your lips to his. He kissed you slowly, gently, like he had all the time in the world to devour you.
“You can’t just short circuit my brain like that you know,” you mumbled, Beau laughing against the column of your neck.
“But it’s one of my favorite things to do.” He peppered kisses up and down your jaw, playing your like a instrument he knew better than the back of his hand. You bit your bottom lip when he ghosted over your ear, hot breath fanning your skin. “Close your eyes, darlin’.”
“Beau, your parents are literally on the other side of that door,” you said as he chuckled. 
“Trust me.” Slowly you lids fluttered shut, Beau’s warmth leaving you. The deck boards creaked although you felt his presence, and smelled his pine and musky cologne, nearby. “Keep em’ closed.”
“Alright, alright,” you murmured before he was kissing you again. “Barlen…”
“I love when you call me that,” he whispered, touching his forehead to yours. There was an undercurrent of tension in his voice, your lips parting. “Did you know I never asked Carla to marry me? She just told me it was happening and I was okay with that because it was all part of her plan and I loved her. And now…I know we’ve talked about the somedays but…”
“Are you scared I’ll hurt you?” you asked quietly, his head nodding once. “Why?”
“You’re so young and beautiful, darlin’. You have no clue. A family with me…you won’t have a normal-”
“Beau. You’re forty six, you’re ripped and so not old. I will never not want you and we could both die tomorrow so do what I always tell you. Relax and trust me.”
“Last chance to change your mind.” You shook your head, tilting your chin up in search of his lips. He met them, cupping your cheek as he took you in. “Open your eyes.”
When you peeled them open, Beau knelt down holding a square black velvet box in his hands.
“Will you-”
“Yes, Barlen,” you grinned, Beau chuckling. 
“Not even gonna let me ask?” 
“I’m excited, sue me,” you said, Beau raising to his feet and opening the box, shaking his head at you as he slid a ring on your finger.
“Want to get married?” You eagerly nodded your head. “Even if you have to deal with Cal?”
“I’m a detective, babe. I can handle a seventy eight year old stuck in the past,” you said, Beau wrapping you up in his arms and hosting you up. “Careful old man. Wouldn’t want you to throw a hip.”
“Eh, watch it troublemaker,” he teased, nipping at your jaw. Your legs went around his waist, Beau setting you down on top of the railing but not releasing you. “So. How long have you known I was planning to ask?”
“Questioning my investigative skills?” you hummed, Beau eyeing you up and down. “I’ve suspected since the fall when we had that kids talk. But I knew for sure when your mom slipped the beans and called me your wife in the kitchen.”
He muttered a curse under his breath, those big green eyes watching you with curiosity. “So you knew what I was doing when we came out here.”
“Most likely,” you said, running a hand over his head, brushing a stray strand that’d fallen over his forehead. “S’okay you got nervous. You’re getting better at the talking thing, you know.”
“What did I do to deserve you?” he said softly.
“Well you are a good kisser, Mr. Barlen.”
“As are you future Mrs. Barlen,” he teased, laughing when a giggle left your lips. “Doesn’t have the same ring to it.”
“Barlen, darlin’,” you said, Beau grinning wide. “See, we’re all set.”
You both jumped when the front door burst open, Emily standing there with an exhausted sigh, staring at her father. She raised her eyebrows, Beau rolling his eyes. “Yes, she said yes, little Ms. Impatient.”
“Thank god. He’s been this close to a coronary all day,” she said, turning to go back inside. “Grandma says we can’t open presents until you get your chicken shit ass in gear and ask so can we go do that now?”
“Welcome to motherhood,” said Beau, shaking his head at her. “We’ll join in a minute.”
Emily left, leaving you to smile up at Beau. “Wow. I never knew your mom had such a potty mouth. She’s always been so sweet.”
“Oh, she can swear like a sailor all she wants but heaven forbid I cuss in front of her.”
“I think it’s a mom thing, hun,” you said, Beau rolling his eyes when you heard knocking at the window. “We better get back in there before the whole family is ragging on you.”
“They can wait,” he said, holding you close to his chest. “Right now, the only present I want is you, darlin.”
_____________
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dilf-luvr-4evr · 3 days ago
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Last Christmas | John Price x F!Reader
mdni!!! Tiny nsfw implied (this is so random but I thought it fits the holiday season hehe inspired by wham! ofc)
Something something the base decided to throw a Christmas party after a successful mission and you showed up in the most ravishing dress, a far cry from your usual uniform. Price choked on his drink the moment you walked through the door.
George Michael ridiculed him from the speakers. I kept my distance but you still catch my eye.
Your relationship with him was.. complicated. You broke up with him over a year ago. Though you weren’t sure you were even dating him. Again, complicated. The concept of working together while secretly fucking didn’t really go hand in hand. Oh the fucking was simple. The feelings that develop each time you do it? Not so much.
You were the one who broke things off. Stating you wanted to stay professional. You just didn’t want to confront him about the three forbidden words that lodged in your throat every time he kisses you so gently while his cock roughly pistons in and out of you.
Price physically felt his heart sink to his stomach when you told him. Though he would never admit it, thinking you were just bored of your fuck buddy. He just uttered a simple “Alright.” Idiots really, the both of you.
You dawned more drinks than you should, having just recently broke up with a guy. Price pretends to stumble into you as if he hasn’t been burning holes on the back of your head the entire party. And maybe your ass too. Hell, your tits, your thighs.. It was like he was trying to snipe you with the way he never let you out of his sight.
“Oh God, I’m so sorry sir,” you giggled, slurring all over the place. Your face was a little flushed, hair slightly disheveled and he had to swallow the hitch in his throat, shift his weight. As kids these days would say: he was down horrendous.
“S’fine,” he chuckled, steadily holding your arms to prevent you from falling. He missed your soft skin. He was so close, it made him nervous. Girls don’t make him nervous. He reluctantly let you go once you got back on your feet, his touch lingering. Just to make sure you won’t fall. And maybe just to feel you a little longer.
“Let me-“ you hiccuped. “Let me clean that up,” you say, reaching in your purse to see if you could find a napkin. Price had to look down his shirt to notice the small champagne stain you spilled. Bloody hell. Had he been so focused on you that he didn’t feel it? Must’ve looked like an idiot.
“Forget it, love,” he said, instinctively reaching out to your hand before he even realized it. He closed your purse, giving your hand a little brush of his thumb before letting you go again. He felt like a thief, stealing little touches whenever he could. You nodded sheepishly.
None of you said anything after that. None of you left either. He kept his eyes on you as you looked at your kitten heels. The first time in over a year you talk about something other than work and it’s about spilled champagne. He figured you’re still sober enough, your shy nature still peeking through.
“How are you?” You blurted out, tilting your head to look up at him. No sir, no captain, no nothing. How are you? The question and the way you caught him staring almost gave him whiplash.
“Good,” he says a second too quick, not even having thought of it. Miss you, his brain says, delayed. The words echoed in his head, desperate to leave his mouth. “You?” He asked back, deciding and hoping that the first part didn’t make it out.
“I- I think I need help with something,” you say before hiccuping again. Price raised a brow. Concern? Confusion? Intrigue? You can’t really tell. Perhaps it’s all three. “I can’t talk about it here.”
He nodded before he could stop himself. Let his feet follow you somewhere secluded. It seemed that his pride had left him a couple minutes ago, the thought of getting you alone again getting to him. Just to make sure you don’t trip again, right? And especially not fall into another man’s arms.
You turned around to face him when it was just the two of you, the music a blur in the background. Price searched your eyes, waiting for you to say something.
You held his face and kissed him.
And it was like you turned off a switch in his brain, his lips moving with you like autopilot. His hands find their way back home to the back of your neck, your sides, wherever he could touch you.
“Missed you,” he murmured against your lips. You don’t say anything.
But if you kiss me now, I know you’d fool me again.
my masterlist
thank you for reading!! 🫶🏼
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lowkeyerror · 12 hours ago
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Help With The Curriculum Pt 4
Agatha x Rio x Reader
Word count: 4.2k
Notes: Smut, choking, fingering, cunnulingus, daddy!kink, mommy!kink, dacryphilia, dirty talk, edging, mentions of overstimulation, begging degradation, praise
Summary: Rio gets herself a chance with you and Agatha. The only caveat is that she has to follow instructions and even then, she might not get a reward.
An: The Ao3 curse hit me, but part 4 (potentially last part) is here, hope you like it.
Previous Part | Masterlist | Series Masterlist
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“Y/n, wake up.”
You groan, snuggling further into Agatha’s warmth. She chuckles a bit, scratching the top of your head.
“Baby, you have to let me get up. I have to go home.”
That only causes you to hold her tighter, “No.”
She sighs, “I have class later, I have to go home to change.”
“Wear mine,” you mumble against her collarbone.
“You’d love seeing me in your clothes, wouldn’t you?”
You pull away from her and wipe your eyes, “What time is it?”
“6 am.”
You shake your head, “We’re college professors, 6am is high school teacher hours Agatha.”
“Well, I need time to go home and get ready. Someone didn’t want to let me go last night,” she gets up, causing you to sit up right in your bed.
“It was late, and besides your legs could’ve given out on the way over,” you tease her.
Agatha rolls her eyes, “Funny, I’ll see you on campus.”
“Wait,” you get out of bed clumsily, she laughs at your movements. “Let me walk you out.”
“Adorable.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you lead her to your front door.
“I have a gap around 2, if you want to do lunch?” She suggests and you nod.
“I’d like that,” you smile at her.
“Text me your order, I’ll pick it up,” she says and for a moment it feels like you’re both prolonging the goodbye.
You kiss her sweetly, not really wanting to stop, “You need to go before I take you back to my bedroom.”
You push her lightly out of the door. She starts walking to her car, but she turns back half way just to blow you a kiss. A small chuckle escapes you before you shoo her away with one last movement of your hand. You wait for her to drive off before going back inside your home.
Since you were awake so early you decided to make breakfast and get ready for work. By the time you were dressed and finished eating it was time for you to go.
Today was the day of the exam, so it was going to be relatively easy for you. You arrive to your classroom a bit early to make sure everything is set for the exam.
“Exam days always seem to drag on forever,” you lift your head at the sound of her voice.
“Professor Vidal, what do you want?” Your voice is dry when you speak to her.
“Think I made that quite obvious yesterday,” she stalks her way over to your desk.
“And why would I reward such a brat?”
She puts her hands behind her back and tilts her head. Her eyes get big and glossy, “But I’m a good girl.”
You could see why Agatha would easily cave in to the woman. She is hot; her body is damn near perfect and her beauty is undeniable.
“No you aren't, because here you are begging me like a needy slut. When we both know you should be talking to Agatha, instead,” you give her a pointed look.
“She doesn't want me anymore,” you hear a vulnerability that you aren't sure she meant to convey.
“Who said that?”
Rio frowns, “She did, literally yesterday. She told me to move on.”
You sigh taking a bit of pity on the woman, “Listen Rio, your problem is that you push too far. Agatha can't handle you being a brat all of the time. I don't think she wanted to end things with you, but if you're never going to listen to her, what's the point?”
“And you listen to her?”
You nod, “Of course, I listen to her, she listens to me.”
Rio focuses on the ground, “She listens to you. She never let me- I wanted to be in control sometimes.”
You cross your arms leaning back against the chair, “Sounds like a reward. I wonder if you could earn it, somehow?”
It's Rio’s turn to sigh, “I need to talk to her, don't I?”
You nod, “I think it’d benefit you.”
She groans, but make her way towards the exit, “You know, I'm not all bad Professor L/n.”
“I know, but you have some lessons to learn. Hopefully rewards to gain, Professor Vidal.”
When she leaves your eyes linger where she stood. It felt like she was the embodiment of temptation. You could imagine what she looked like bare, her look playful, and eager. You’re sure that her neediness clouded any sense of obedience in her body.
When the class piled in you gave them the exam instructions. While they were testing, you let your mind wander to what you could do with Rio. How you could help Agatha tame her.
You were thinking about it until it was time for lunch. Agatha said she would meet you in your classroom.
“What did you say to her?”
Agatha sits the food on your desk.
You shrug, “I told her she needed to talk to you, why?”
Agatha begins to take out the food, “She apologized for being such a brat all the time, said that what we had was important to her, and that she didn’t want to lose it.”
“And what did you say?”
Agatha sighs, “I told her that I wanted to believe her.”
“But…”
“But she would have to prove that she could be good.”
You take a sip of your drink, “And how should she do that?”
Agatha’s eyes met yours, “I was hoping you had some ideas.”
You smirk, “I’ve been brain storming since she left my classroom. I was thinking, maybe we could put on a little show for her, but the rules prohibit her from touching. If she lasts, she can have a reward, but if she can’t… we can give her a very memorable punishment. Thinking either edging or overstimulation. Depends on her attitude.”
Agatha levels with you, “I doubt she can hold out. I mean I doubt that I could if I was watching us fuck.”
You lean back in your chair, “This test isn't about her obedience, it’s about her willpower. I want to see how quickly she cracks, if she’s remorseful, or if she’s going to be disrespectful. If she meant what she said to you, she will try her hardest. Tell her to meet us Saturday at your place. I assume she knows where you live.”
Agatha snickers, “Why do I hear some jealousy in that last part?”
“I told you, I’m not fond of sharing. Don’t worry though, I plan to work through that when Rio’s watching me make you all desperate. I know what she wants from you Aggie, and I’m going to show her how much you love when I give it to you,” your jaw twitches slightly.
“I’m looking forward to it,” she begins to eat her food.
The days seem to pass slowly as anticipation builds inside of you. You’re excited but you don’t necessarily know if that’s appropriate. In truth you wouldn’t describe yourself as a naturally dominant person but something about being with Agatha and something about the thought of being with Rio really made you want to take control.
With Agatha there was much more of a give and take nature to your encounters. Sometimes you would be in control and sometimes you’d crumble under her gaze. However, with Rio’s needy eyes on you, you didn't know if it would be appropriate to crumble.
This time would be somewhat of an example for any times that would occur in the future. It was like you were setting a precedent for how things would unfold and whatever kind of relationship you decided to pursue. There was a lot of confliction inside of you the moment he saw her you did want to put her in her place. You were serious when you said you weren’t sharing but now you didn't know if that was true.
Was it really sharing if you had decided you wanted both?
“I can feel you thinking from here,” Agatha’s hand cups your face.
You’re both in her bedroom waiting for Rio to arrive. You let out a relaxed sigh as her thumb starts to caress your face.
“It feels silly, but I think I’m nervous. I’ve never done anything like this before. I know I was talking a big game, and that was real. I want this, I just don't want to fuck this up,” you admit.
“You’re adorable,” she says.
You whine, “Agatha.”
“Baby it’s not just you in here, I'm here too. I doubt you’ll struggle to preform because you haven't before this. In the case that you do, I’ll be here to get us back on track. Trust me?”
You nod and lean in to peck her lips, “I trust you.”
The doorbell rings breaking the endearing moment. You want to rush to the door but a gentle tug from Agatha has you walking at a slower pace.
“Compose yourself,” she whispers to you before opening the door.
Rio stands on Agatha’s porch in a short sundress. The nerves on her face are present, but she tampers them with a smile.
“Looks a little different than last time I was here,” Rio says peering into the house.
“You know I get bored with décor quickly,” Agatha says stepping aside to let her in.
“And how different is the bedroom?” Rio says slyly.
You speak up, “You should see for yourself.”
Rio hums at your words, making her way towards the bedroom. Agatha and yourself follow her side by side. When you’re all in the room, you’re the one to close the door.
There’s a tension in the air, anticipation of what will happen.
“So…”
“Sit in that chair,” you command Rio, before she can further speak.
She complies, sitting in the chair in the corner of the room. You keep your eyes on her, “Good listening, today we’re going to see how long you can keep it up for. You’re going to sit here and watch while Agatha and I fuck. You aren't going to touch yourself at any point.”
Rio’s eyes darken, “And what do I get for sitting here?”
You tilt your head to the side, “Why would you get anything? This isn’t a reward, this is your case to Agatha that you can be a good girl, and follow simple instructions without being a brat.”
“I can be good.”
You grip her chin so she looks into your eyes, “I hope so because I think it would be fun to play with you.”
You kiss her cheek before turning your back to her and heading towards Agatha. You stand in front of her, eyes locked on each other. Your hands find the bottom of her shirt. You raise it slowly giving her a chance to stop you.
She doesn’t, when her shirts off your hands trail up her soft skin. You let out a shaky breath, trying to control your impulses. Your head dips down so that your tongue could swirl around one of her nipples. The other nipple was occupied in between your fingers.
Periodically you look up to take in the details of Agatha’s face. The light moans and delicate tensions on her face are not enough for you. You want more, you start to use your teeth and soon her breathy moans become more fleshed out.
Agatha couldn’t take any more of the teasing, she pulls your face up so that your lips meet. It’s hungry, and you swear her lips get softer every time you kiss them. You moan as she sucks on your bottom lip.
You hear a whimper in the corner of the room and you break from the kiss. Rio looks like she has a sweat building up on her forehead. You pull your shirt from over your head and see her eyes widen as she takes in your body.
You don’t miss the way her hands grip the chair. Agatha hugs you from behind, her hand traveling down your body with no hesitation in sight. You moan, keeping eye contact with Rio as Agatha’s hand disappears into your pants.
“You’re so wet for me baby,” she trails kisses up your neck.
“I need you,” you say bucking into her hand.
She guides you so that your back hits the wall. In a swift movement your pants are down and Agatha is on her knees. She spreads your legs and your breathing speeds up a bit.
You grab a handful of her hair and laugh lightly, “Isn’t this familiar?”
She chuckles the same, “Not until you start moaning professor.”
Her hands rest on your thigh as her tongue swipes through your folds. Your grip on her hair tightens, as her pace increases. She hums in satisfaction, not caring about how far her face is buried into your cunt.
“How you doing over there Vidal?” You manage to glance at her and she looks in utter discomfort. She doesn’t answer, “I asked you something.”
“S-soaked,” she grits out.
“Fuck, Aggie were you starving or something?” You feel your legs begin to shake a little from the intensity of her movements.
She pulls away, “You just taste so good.”
“Should we give her something?” You nod your head towards Rio.
Agatha nods, “Whatever your thinking, I’m in.”
Rio sighs believing that the challenge is over and that she’s won a reward. You smile sweetly at her, “Strip.”
Her clothes are gone in under a minute and she stands eagerly.
“Ok sit back down, you were a little uncomfortable in the clothes,” you speak dismissively before returning your attention to Agatha.
“You want to taste yourself?”
You nod, “And I need those fingers inside of me professor.”
“Suck,” Agatha pushes two fingers into your mouth.
You obey her and as soon as her fingers leave your mouth her lips are on yours again. As your kiss echoes in the room, she slides fingers into you.
You gasp in pleasures as she quickly begins to pump in and out of you. Her thumb finds your clit and you can barely keep up with the kiss. Your head falls onto her shoulder.
“You like when I burry my fingers in you, baby? The way my thumb presses down on your clit? Fuck, I can feel you clenching against me. You going to cum on my fingers that fast? God you’re needy today, or is it cause Rio’s watching? You want her to see how I make you cum.”
You lift your head from her shoulder just enough to look at Rio, “I want her t-to see what she can’t have.”
With her now naked you can see every little twitch her body makes. The look of anger on her face only makes you cum harder. Agatha fucks you through it, and as soon as she pulls her fingers out of you, you’re guiding her towards the bed.
You sit with your back against the headboard and Agatha sits in between your legs.
“Open for me baby,” she follows your instructions opening her legs.
One of your arms secure around her waist while the other rubs small circles around her clit. You give Rio a perfect view of Agatha’s dripping cunt.
“You ever have her like this Rio?”
Your fingers glide through Agatha’s folds in a teasing manner.
Rio shook her head, “N-no.”
You chuckle deeply as you plunge two fingers into her, “Oh Aggie, that's so mean of you. Never opened up for your little plaything?”
“Never earned it,” Agatha says breathlessly.
You can see Rio fix her mouth to say something, but she holds back.
“Speak up bunny, I want to know what's on your mind. You think you deserved something like this?”
Your fingers work faster, intoxicated by the sounds of Agatha’s hungry wet hole.
Rio begins to shake in her spot, “I wanted it so bad.”
“Wanted what?”
Her head drops, “To fuck Agatha. To have her whimpering because of me, to give her so much pleasure that she'd be drunk on it. Maybe, maybe I didn't earn it. Hell, I doubt that I deserved it, but I wanted it. She deserved to be worshiped and I thought that would've been enough.”
You can feel Agatha’s breathing quicken at the words, “If you can't handle instructions, you couldn't handle fucking me.”
Your thumb presses against her clit and she throws her head back. You begin sucking harshly on her neck as it becomes more accessible.
You lick a long stripe along her neck sparing a glance at Rio, “Beg for it Rio.”
She’s quick to fall to her knees unceremoniously. Her legs are shaking and you can see her arousal glistening down them. Her eyes are large and filled with tears.
Her voice is hoarse with need as she speaks, “Please, please. I-I can’t watch anymore, I need to- please. Tell me to do something, I’ll do it. I-I can be good. I can listen. I’ll do anything.”
You can feel Agatha clenching around your fingers as she watches Rio beg.
“More,” Agatha growls at Rio.
“Mommy please, I’m sorry. I should’ve listened. I shouldn’t have been so bratty. I was bad, but not anymore. Please, touch me. Let me touch you. Anything, please,” Rio cries fully now.
Agatha begins to rock her hips against your fingers, “Ask Y/n.”
“Daddy please, I’m sorry for being such a slut in your classroom. I need you, I’ll do better, I’ll be better. You don’t have to share, you can own me. Please, please, please.”
Agatha’s body jerks forward as she cums. Your arm around her waist is the only thing keeping her grounded. You slow your fingers, waiting for her to ride out her orgasm before removing them from her cunt. They find their way into her mouth and she sucks them delicately.
“Come here,” you murmur to Rio.
She stands, quickly walking over to you. You unhook your arm from around Agatha, using that hand to lightly grip Rio’s jaw. She nearly flinches in anticipation from your grasp.
You swipe at her tears with your thumb. Slowly you pull her face towards you while craning your neck up to her. You kiss her and it’s a fragile thing. You can feel her holding back. Trying to restrain herself, from taking more than you’re willing to give.
She whimpers into your mouth and her legs begin trembling even more than before. Your eyes widen and you break the kiss.
“Did you just cum?”
Rio’s face tints red with embarrassment, “I-I-"
Agatha intervenes lifting Rio before tossing her gently on the bed, “God, you’re so beautifully pathetic when you listen.”
“I want to taste her, she wants to taste you. I think we can all be winners here,” you look at the tanned woman in a predatory manner.
“Can you handle it baby? You couldn’t even manage a simple kiss, without making a mess of yourself,” Agatha questions her.
“Please, sit on my face mommy,” she pants out.
You decide to give Rio some relief, “Don’t hold back, but I’m telling you right now, I’m not stopping until Agatha cums again. So if you cum before her, we’re going to keep going, understand?”
She nods the best she can, “I understand.”
Agatha grabs Rio’s wrists, holding them above her. The older woman straddles Rio’s head, not loosening her tight hold on the submissive’s wrists.
“You know the signal if it’s too much,” Agatha speaks tenderly.
Again Rio nods the best she can.
That’s the only sign Agatha needs before fully sitting on the woman’s face.
Rio’s legs open for you with the sound of her sticky cunt echoing in your mind. She is absolutely drenched, you can see her clit twitching in anticipation. You can tell she’s sensitive, but you can’t help yourself.
Without hesitation you got straight to sucking her clit. Her back arches off of the bed, and you have to hold her legs in place. You can hear the low groan she let slip into Agatha, causing the other woman to grind down on Rio’s face.
Every calculated thought or worry that you previously had leaves your head as her taste seeps into your brain. All you want to do is make her cum. You eat her sloppily, not holding anything back. You can feel your jaw growing tired from how obsessively you’re eating her out.
You assume she’s doing the same to Agatha as the woman with the unoccupied mouth has not stopped making sounds since Rio’s face has been in her pussy.
When you finally detach your mouth from the woman, you stay close to her cunt. Letting your breath fan over her as you try to form any type of coherent thought.
“I understand why Agatha let you be a brat for so long. Your taste is so intoxicating baby, I just want to drown in it,” you say as you slide your middle finger into her.
You feel her cum instantly at the sensation and it makes your eyes roll back.
“You close professor?” You ask Agatha who only answers by nodding vigorously. “You’re going to give me one more then Rio.”
Feeling your own orgasm build, you began to feel needier. You want to feel Rio against you. So you change your position so that your cunt is aligned with hers. You hold one of her legs up and begin to grind against her.
The feeling of her hot sticky cunt rubbing against yours is bliss. You could feel her hips bucking into yours and it made you smile sadistically.
“Feels so good when you fuck yourself against me like that baby. Make us cum, like you begged for. Show us how desperate you are. Suck her clit, swirl your tongue around it, graze it with your teeth. Make her cum in your mouth, like the good girl you are. Don’t stop meeting my hips either, want you to show me you can multitask.”
Your words send Rio into a frenzy. She begins to speed up her movements, even though her body is fatigued. She works hard to send you both over the edge and she does.
Agatha cums first her hands abandoning Rio’s wrists to grab a fistful of her hair instead. She removes herself from atop of Rio only to meet the woman in a sloppy kiss. Rio doesn’t stop grinding against you even when fresh tears prick her eyes.
“Make daddy cum, baby,” Agatha kisses the top of Rio’s forehead moving stray hairs off of her face.
You fall apart at the same time Rio does, nearly collapsing against her. Agatha’s arms hold you up so you don’t flatten the woman beneath you. You can feel her squirt dripping down your abdomen, which sends a strong aftershock down your entire body.
“Fuck,” you say rubbing your hand against the mess she made on you.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, exhaustion hitting her like a truck.
You shake your head, “You’re perfect.”
Rio blushes and then cover her face with her hands.
Agatha laughs softly at her behavior, “Underneath all that bratty attitude, is one of the softest girls in the world.”
“You’re just a sweetheart trying uphold some bad boy image aren’t you,” you run your hand through Rio’s hair.
She leans into your touch, “I’m a badass.”
You indulge her for a moment, “For sure. I know plenty of badasses who beg mommy and daddy to fuck them.”
She shoots back at you, “Whatever you say miss ‘I don’t share’.”
Agatha intervenes, “As much as this bickering turns me on. I’d say it’s time to clean up, because I’m going to have to wash these sheets before sleeping tonight.”
“So now what?” You prompt.
“Aggie?” Rio’s voice holds a vulnerability to it, “Can I stay?”
Agatha looks at you, a small uncertainty passes through her.
“Let her stay, the brat is growing on me,” you say, smiling down at Rio.
“She tends to have that effect on people,” Agatha also gives her a small smile.
“We usually just eat and watch tv after the mind blowing sex, so don’t expect too much excitement Vidal,” you say, getting out of the bed.
Agatha follows suit and Rio just sits up.
“I’d offer to cook, but I don’t think I can stand right now,” she laughs.
“Do not worry professor, we’ll help get you all cleaned up,” you send her a cheeky wink, before scooping her up in your arms.
She yelps in surprise, but wraps her arms around your neck so she doesn’t fall.
“Well aren’t you charming?”
You smile, “So I’ve been told.”
True to your words, the three of you clean up. It’s a group effort as you shower, Rio seriously having trouble standing up right. Agatha lends you both some comfy clothes to lounge in and you find yourselves on her couch eating takeout and watching Glee (your request).
“So she sent that girl to a crack house?” Agatha questions.
“It’s inactive,” you and Rio say at the same time.
“You two might just be too similar,” Agatha chuckles.
You and Rio share a look.
“Good taste,” you say at the same time.
Agatha rolls her eyes, “A few hours together and she’s already corrupting you, Y/n.”
“I actually think you might be the biggest brat here Agatha. Lying about needing help with the curriculum just so I’d fuck you silly… pretty brat like behavior,” you retort.
Now it’s Agatha that is blushing and Rio who is cackling.
You smile innocently, taking in the moment. Though it’s unconventional, this is something that you hoped you wouldn’t lose. Moments like these that transcended the bedroom always put it into perspective for you. You wanted to build something with these women. Unbeknownst to you they both wanted that very same thing.
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messenger-of-babel · 14 hours ago
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Three Year's the Charm
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Summary: You're nervous to make yourself known as Bruce's partner at his annual winter gala. (Bruce Wayne x reader)
Word Count: 1.4K
Notes: Please see the note attached to the Christmas Masterlist! Due to unforseen circumstances I've had to slow and put a pause entirely for some places. I'm going to try and double posts when I can. Much love and Merry Christmas!
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Christmas was supposed to be a time of peace, of getting together with family and friends. To open presents in front of a roaring fireplace, to eat baked treats with festive drinks. 
Your Christmas was shaping up to be wildly different. Sips of alcohol or eggnog made you more nervous as you watched guests pile in, filling the foyer of the manor.
This year’s tree was magnificent, covered in blue and silver and stretching to the ceiling of the ballroom. You had watched Alfred give harsh instructions to the workers setting it up, standing at the top of the stairs like a foreman till it was perfect. Bruce had told you it was his pride and joy each year, and it was better to not get involved when Alfred was tasked with decorating the tree. The year before Alfred had often for a beautiful golden look, and the year before had been a wonderful red and white combination.
This was like any other Wayne Christmas Gala, (you had attended three so far) except this time, you were going to be introduced on the arm of THE Bruce Wayne, the namesake and host of the entire thing.
While you two had been in the talking phase Bruce had an excellent handle on his public image, and any paparazzi that managed to steal a snap from you was unable to locate it when they went to work the next day. You relationship had been reduced to his hand on your thigh when you went for late night drives, or even later romps in the back of his car with tinted windows. Stolen kisses normally held behind the enormous Christmas tree once all the guests had gone were now to be on display for all to see, and more accurately, for every glare. 
You weren’t a stranger to the way that the public cast looks to every supermodel, reporter, and actress that had been on the playboys arm over the years. You had seen the snide glares and haughty stares afforded to his partners, and you know that once you walked down those steps on his arm you’d be next. 
When you feel him step behind you, warm palm on the hand of your back, you tense. “You’re worried.” He murmurs, voice low as he scans the ballroom below. “It’s not a good look on you.”
You cast your eyes back. “It’s hard to not be. I’ll be torn apart by angry women and billionaire men alike. What a Christmas.” You mutter back. 
“It won’t be so bad, baby, I promise.” He says, moving his hand in circles to try and sooth you. “But if you prefer we can-“
“No.” You sigh. You had thought about that all day and had been half tempted to ask him to call it off. But you couldn’t.
In The early years of your relationship you didn’t mind being a secret, knowing that Bruce wished he didn’t have to keep you out of the light either. Yet as they wore on and you fell for him more, you got selfish. You wanted him to yourself.
So even if it came with the stares and made the pit of dread coil in your stomach, there was still the part of you that wanted to be with him down there under those Christmas lights.
“I want this.” You say softly. “I mean, I want to be with you. Properly.” You give him a small smile. “Besides, I’ve just gotten Damian to like me. I’m not going to back down at something infinitely less scary.”
Bruce gives a chuckle to that and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. “You really did get him to warm up, in the end.” He teases.
“I don’t know if I’d consider him warm, but he’s definitely less cold.”
“Oh come on, he shows affection.”
“Just last Tuesday he rolled his eyes in my direction and muttered something under his breath in Arabic.”
“See? He does that to me all the time too.”
“I don’t know if that’s an affectionate thing either.” You laugh, grinning wider when he lightly pecks your shoulder. His warm hands pat down your sides and you step towards the staircase yourself.
The chatter was like a low hum as Gothamites socialised below, drinks in hand as they circled the floor like well dressed sharks. “Don’t worry,” Bruce whispers, smiling softly as if to encourage you. “I’ve got you.”
With a squeeze of his hand you moved your other to the banister, steeling yourself as you both begin to descend the stairs. As if your first step set of an alarm, heads began turning your way and narrowing in on your form. Each step down, every inch down the curved staircase made conversations hush. You could feel the stares piecerce through your outfit, discoing you from the inside out.
Were you good enough for Bruce? Had they seen you before? Were you famous? What were you this time? A swimsuit model? A CEO? From old money? New money? A stray from the side of the street? An accountant on wall street?
The questions were heavy in the air, easily crushing out the Christmas spirit that the band weakly tried to keep alive. When you hit the final step and felt the smooth marble of the ballroom floor beneath you, the feeding frenzy started. They began to circle you and Bruce, smiles shining and fake.
They offered you greetings, and handshakes and smiles,  but the beating of your heart made it hard to focus on them. Silently you looked up for Bruce, and he understood what you were asking.
“Everyone,” He called into the crowd, tone charming and sly smile on his face. At the sound of their host the guests turned like dogs, focusing in on the billionaire in front of them. “I hope that everyone is enjoying the festivities, please, help yourself to the drinks and more, God knows I can pay for it.”
Theres a scattering of laughter as he jokes with them, flashing them that billionaire grin. “I want to take the time to introduce my partner here,” he looks down at you, tugging you closer to him. “No better time than Christmas, I think. So on behalf of us Waynes here,” his hand tightens around you. “and all of my sons, we wish you a very Merry Christmas.”
Theres applause after he raises his glass in a toast, and the band starts again with full force. You flick your eyes up to Bruce, who is currently studying the chattering that has spread across the guests with a smirk.
“What did you do that for?” you hiss, tugging him closer to your face. He smirks back, that boyish glint in his eye returning.
“You wanted me to fix it, darling.” He chuckles. “I did.”
“You called me a Wayne.”
“That I did.” He grins. The band starts a slow rendition of ‘Last Christmas’ and he tugs you towards his chest, feet already moving in a lazy waltz. “It’ll keep them guessing for a while. They’ll try to figure out what we are, but they’ll behave in case you’re already my spouse.” He smiles down at you, watching you follow his waltz.
“Already?” you raise your eyebrows and he shakes his head softly, lowering his head towards yours. “What do you mean already your spouse?” you ask.
“It means,” he murmurs, spinning you till you were dancing under the light of Alfred magnificent Christmas tree. “That I may have just spoiled my New Year’s surprise.” He huffs.
You study him under the LED’s, how the light flickers off the edges of his face, highlighting the contours and shadows of his skin. You raise a hand to trace them softly and he turns his cheek into your palm. This was Bruce Wayne, the man who fought for the betterment of Gotham every night. Who looked nothing but weary standing in front of you now, about to mark the end of another year.
“Merry Christmas, Bruce.” You say softly, offering him a small smile.
“Merry Christmas.” He rumbles back, eyes lighting up again. He dips his head down to press a kiss to your lips, and you can feel the corners of his mouth tilt upwards when he does.
You loop your arms around his neck, foreheads touching. You could only wonder what tree Alfred would put in the manor next year, and if once you were officially a Wayne he’d let you help choose the colours.
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lacydollette · 3 days ago
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BLESSING IN DISGUISE — CHAPTER SIX
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PAIRING rafe cameron x lovely kook!reader x jj maybank
WARNING(S) trauma, flashbacks, alcohol, mentions of drug abuse, verbal fights, rafe being a dick, suggestive content, explicit language, angst, slight fluff between reader and jj
SUMMARY after days of painful silence, with Rafe pulling away and you still drowning in the aftermath of the incident, the annual bonfire becomes the breaking point. unable to hold back any longer you confront him, but rafe’s cold, detached demeanor cuts deep, leaving your heart in pieces.
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“Waah, john b stop!!” Sarah screeched as her boyfriend chased after her, running around the sand like little kids. Oh, they were so in love. jj was nursing on a half-empty beer bottle leaning back in the sand like he didn’t have a care in the world. Everyone looked relaxed, like the weight of the world wasn’t sitting on their shoulders.
Everyone except you.
You sat a little off to the side, poking at the sand with a stick, dragging lazy patterns that the waves would eventually wash away. Your head felt fuzzy, likeyou were watching everything through a haze, the sounds of Sarah’s giggles and crashing waves muffled and far away. You knew you should be here, should be present, but you weren’t . You were somewhere else—thoughts still messy after the incident with Nate a few nights ago.
Of course the lack of your usual sunshine smile and teasing behavior didn’t go unnoticed, reverting back to the pogues questioning you and asking if you were really okay. You weren’t. But somehow you couldn’t bring yourself to talk to them about it. Cause if you were to talk about it, you also had to talk about Rafe. And you couldn’t.
It wasn’t fair, but your brain kept circling back to him. The way he’d looked at you that night, torn between fury and guilt, like the whole thing was his fault. And maybe it was, in some sick and twisted way, but you couldn’t let yourself go there. Not again.
Suddenly jj’s smooth voice broke through your dissociative haze, “Yo, earth to y/n,” his laugh cutting through your spiraling thoughts like a knife. You blinked, looking up just in time to see him toss a beer to john b, who caught it with a slick motion. JJ’s grin was infectious, his whole face lighting up like he didn’t have a single worry in the world. For a second, you felt your lips twitch, almost smiling. Almost.
“You good over there, sunshine?” JJ asked, leaning back on his elbows to look at you, his blue eyes practically glowing under the late afternoon sun. “You’ve been, like, a hundred miles away all day.” You shrugged, trying to play it off. “Just tired, I guess.”
JJ raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. He pushed himself up, brushing the sand off his hands as he scooted closer, closing the distance between you until he was right next to you. “Tired? Or, like, tired tired?”
“What’s the difference?” You asked, your voice coming out sharper than you meant it to. JJ didn’t flinch, though. He just tilted his head, studying you like you were some kind of puzzle he couldn’t figure out. His hand brushed against your knee—not in a creepy way, just JJ being JJ, always touchy, always close. And usually, you didn’t mind. But today, it made your skin prickle, like you were too aware of everything.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asked again, his voice softer this time. You forced a smile, knowing he wouldn’t let it go until you gave him something. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just had a huge fight with my parents yesterday. You know how it is.” JJ made a face, clearly skeptical but not wanting to push. “Parents suck,” he muttered, leaning back again. “Tell ‘em JJ Maybank says to chill out, or I’m coming over.”
That finally got a real smile out of you, small and fleeting, but real. JJ grinned, clearly proud of himself, before turning his attention back to sarah and john b. But even as the conversation shifted, as JJ joked and teased and kept the energy light, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being… disconnected.
It wasn’t just Nate, the incident or the weird distance you felt with your friends lately. It was Rafe.
You two hadn’t spoken since that night. Not a single text, not a glance, not even one of those tense run-ins you always seemed to have. He’d disappeared as quickly as he’d came, like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t held you while you were shaking, hadn’t promised to keep you safe.
It hurt. And while you had slowly tried to piece yourself back together, he had distanced himself from you further.
Rafe thought it was his fault—just like he thought everything was his fault. The fight at Midsummers, the way you’d both blown up at each other, the reason you were even out that night in the first place. In his mind, he’d set the whole thing in motion, and now he was punishing himself for it.
The images were haunting him at night, you, crumpled in the dirt, nates bloody face gasping underneath him. The fear in your eyes. And worst of all—himself, standing there, realizing it was all his fault. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. How it all traced back to him, like a sick domino effect.
He tried drowning his thoughts with the usual, alcohol and coke. It hit hard and fast, just how he liked it, but it didn’t do much to quiet the voice in his head—the one telling him that you’d be better off without him.
That was why he hadn’t called, hadn’t texted, hadn’t tried to see you since that night. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to. God, he wanted to. Every time his phone buzzed, every time he heard a car door slam outside, his heart jumped, hoping it was you. But he didn’t deserve to see you.
Because this was just like before. Every time he got close to you, every time he let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, he could be good enough for you, he proved himself wrong. He was like poison, toxic and consuming, dragging you down with him no matter how hard he tried not to.
So, he stayed away. He told himself it was for your own good, that he was doing the right thing, even if it felt like hell. But the silence was unbearable. And that’s why he was going in and out of every bar on the island—spending almost every night in places like that, drowning in alcohol, drugs, and meaningless noise. He thought maybe if he leaned into the chaos hard enough, he could lose himself in it. He thought maybe he could forget. But it wasn’t working.
He couldn’t stop picturing the way you’d looked at him that night—so broken, so fragile, but still trusting him enough to let him carry you home. The way your hands had trembled as you patched up his knuckles, comforting him while you were the one hurting.
The way you’d pulled back, hesitated, like you didn’t know if you could let him in again. And who could blame you? He’d screwed up too many times to count. He wasn’t sure why you’d ever let him in to begin with.
He hated himself for what had happened to you, hated himself for not being there sooner. But mostly, he hated that even after everything, some selfish part of him still wanted you.
Wanted to see you, to hold you, to tell you he’d do better this time—even though he didn’t know if he could. But that part of him was buried under the guilt, the anger, the deep rooted belief that he didn’t deserve you. That he never had. So, he stayed here in the dark, hiding between drinks and strangers, telling himself it was better this way.
For you. For both of you. Even if it was killing him.
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the gravel crunched underneath your shoes as you walked to the annual bonfire, the kind of event that blurred the lines between Kooks and Pogues. It was the one night that made everyone forget the labels, at least for a little while. You were standing with the Pogues, tucked close to JJ as his arm casually looped around your shoulders. His warmth was comforting, familiar even, and for the first time today, you let yourself relax into it.
But no matter how hard you tried to focus on the moment—on JJ’s laugh echoing through the crowd or Kie’s attempts to roast a marshmallow without setting it on fire—your eyes kept wandering, scanning the crowd like your body couldn’t help but search for him.
Where is he?
You told yourself you were just curious. That’s all it was. But deep down, you knew better. It was like he’d vanished entirely, except you could still feel the weight of him pressing against your chest every time you closed your eyes.
And then you saw him.
Rafe was standing near the edge of the crowd, a bottle in one hand, the other shoved into his pocket. He looked the same but different—his jaw tense, his shoulders hunched like he was holding something back. And just then eyes caught yours across the fire, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you.
Every part of Rafe screamed at him to stay away, to let you have the life you deserved, but when your pretty doe eyes pierced through his, the air was sucked from his lungs. For a moment, everything else disappeared—the music, the voices, even the ache in his chest. All he could see was you.
You felt your body temperature rise, cheeks burning up. The pull of him was undeniable. It always was. You needed to talk to him.
“I’m gonna grab a beer,” you mumbled to the group, pulling away from JJ’s arm. “I’ll come with you,” the blonde offered, his voice easy, like he didn’t notice the shift in you. “No, I’m good. Be right back.” JJ shrugged, distracted by Pope’s latest story, and you slipped away before anyone could stop you.
Your feet carried you in the direction of Rafe, each step faster than the last. By the time you found him, he was leaning against the side of a column. Yet you hesitated for a moment, nerves twisting in your stomach as you reached closer.
“Rafe,” you said, your voice cutting through the noise of the bonfire behind you. His eyes flicked to yours, forcing his features into something cold, detached, hoping it would keep you at arm’s length. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “Why are you hiding out over here?” He let out a hollow laugh, taking a swig from the bottle in his hand. Your boldness had always disarmed him, even now. Especially now. “Not hiding. Just avoiding the circus.”
“Avoiding me, you mean.”
Rafe’s jaw tensed, his gaze dropping to the ground. Don’t do this. Don’t let her in, he thought. “Maybe you should take the hint.” His words hit like a slap, but you didn’t back down. “You don’t get to do this, Rafe. You don’t get to disappear and act like nothing happened.”The flash of hurt in your eyes nearly killed him, but he held firm. Better to push you away now, before he dragged you down with him.
“Nothing did happen,” he snapped, the lie lingering bitter on his tongue as he was still avoiding your eyes.
“What is your problem, Rafe?” you sighed, the frustration in your voice obvious. “One day you promise me that you’ll keep me safe, that you would stay by my side and now you can’t even look at me?”
Rafe laughed, but it wasn’t the kind you remembered. It was bitter, empty. “Look who’s talking. You seemed pretty cozy with jj back there.” He hated the words even as he said them, but he couldn’t stop himself. It was easier to let anger take over than to admit the truth—to admit he wasn’t strong enough to stay away from you.
Your mouth fell open, stunned by his accusation. “Are you serious right now? JJ’s my friend. He’s just—”
“Sure he is,” Rafe cut you off, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He took a step closer, his eyes narrowing. “this is how you thank me? By fucking around with a Pogue?” Your chest tightened, tears burning at the edges of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Not here. Not in front of him. “Go to hell, Rafe,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt.
But then you noticed it—the red rim around his eyes, the way his body trembled faintly like he was barely holding himself together. It wasn’t just the alcohol in his hand. He was using again, spiraling. But before you could say anything, JJ’s voice cut through the tension. “Hey! What the hell are you doing talking to her?”
You turned to see JJ storming toward you, his face dark with anger. He stepped between you and Rafe, his chest puffed out like he was ready to fight. “Back off, JJ,” Rafe said, his voice low but dangerous. “Or what?” JJ snapped, his fists clenching at his sides, “She’s with us now. Stay the fuck away from her.”
“y/n is not a damn possession,” Rafe snapped, his voice low and dangerous. “You don’t get to decide who she talks to.”
“Oh, and you do?” JJ sneered. “At least I don’t fuck up everyone I get close to.” The words hit their mark. Rafe’s face darkened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He took a step closer, his voice trembling with barely-contained rage. “You don’t know anything about me, Maybank.”
“Yeah? I know enough,” JJ shot back. “Like how you treat everyone like shit, especially the people who actually care about you.” Rafe wanted to hit back, to make JJ feel even a fraction of the pain he carried every second. But then your voice cut through the chaos.
“Enough!” you shouted, stepping between them, trying to cut the tension between the boys while no one seemed to notice the rising tension between you and Rafe except Sarah, who was standing a little further away, her eyes narrowing as she watched the scene unfold.
Rafe turned his attention back to you, his face twisting with anger and something deeper—something like pain. “You don’t get it, do you?” he spat, his voice cracking. “You’d be better off without me.”He saw the way his words cut you, saw the way you fought to keep your composure, not being able to look away from him. But it was true. He couldn’t give you what you deserved. And the only way to protect you was to keep you as far away from him as possible.
“Let’s go,” JJ said, grabbing your arm gently but firmly. “He’s not worth it.” You let JJ pull you away, your mind spinning as Rafe’s words echoed in your ears. But as you glanced back over your shoulder, you caught one last glimpse of him—standing alone, his body stiff like he was trying to hold himself together.
Sarah was looking at you as you returned, her brows furrowed as she pieced everything together. You knew she’d ask questions later, but for now, you let JJ lead you back to the group, his warmth steadying you even as your heart ached for the boy you couldn’t seem to leave behind.
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LINKS .ᐟ series’ masterlist
TAGS .ᐟ @gibson-g1rl @beausling @littlelamy @rafescokewhore @starkeysprincess @starzify @rafeysbunny @rafeslacy @whinyangel @dolcekissy @httpsdrewstarkey @cherrygirlfriend @drewspinkbunny @rafesangelita @drewspinkbunny @rafey-baby @cameronsprincess @maybanksbaby @nativegirltapes @lilithblackkk @maybankslover
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sinnabarmoth · 16 hours ago
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Tribute for the Dragon (7/18)
Pairing: Dragon|Sylus x Fem|Reader
Summary: You and Sylus exchange stories.
Content Warnings: Mention of past suicide attempt.
Length: 2k
Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6)
Read on AO3
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In the morning you went about making breakfast and found Sylus waiting there for you. You felt a bit ridiculous thinking back to last night and how Sylus had to carry you back to the room like you were a child. He seemed to do that a lot, carry you around. Always made you feel light as a feather too. No grunting or huffing, he just swept you up like you were an empty sack of flour.
“Morning,” he said.
“Good morning.” you came in and started cooking some breakfast. “Sorry to make you carry me back to the room last night. I really tried staying up till you got back.”
“And why was it you were so insistent on waiting till I got back?”
“Because I wanted to talk to you.”
“I gathered as much.”
You rolled your eyes. “I just wanted to apologize for going through your stuff and figure out where we stood. I know I crossed a boundary and poked my nose into something very personal to you.”
“If we’re making apologies then I have to apologize too.” he said. “I scared you yesterday. I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t--”
“I could smell it. There’s no use denying it.”
You squared your shoulders and turned to look at him. “I wasn’t scared of you. I was more frightened about having been caught. Surprised really. Not scared.”
“If you say so.”
“If I was really scared of you wouldn’t I be stinking up the place right now?” you divided up the food onto two plates and set one in front of him. “Although, I will admit it unsettled me seeing you angry like that.”
“It shouldn’t be a surprise that dragons have tempers.”
“But I’ve yet to see it before yesterday. You’re usually very level headed actually.”
“I never had reason to lose my temper before. I regret that you had to see that.”
You waved it off. “I think maybe we should think of it as getting to know more about each other. You promised that we’d do that today. Get to know one another.”
“I did say that.” he pushed the meat around on his plate. “Alright, ask whatever you wish.”
And just like that, it was as if the previous day had never happened. You fell back into easy conversation. The best conversation you had ever had with him in fact. Over the next several days you kept having great conversations.
You learned a lot about him in that time, much more in depth than what you had learned already. A lot of your questions had to revolve around dragons and their culture. It was fascinating to hear everything he knew and it gave you a better understanding about who you were living with. Some of the things he explained to you included him taking you into the hoard room and explaining why he was attracted to certain treasures and not others.
Apparently while dragons all had a taste for treasure, their hoards were actually rather diverse. Most liked gold but there were some dragons that dealt only in gems. There are sea dragons who sometimes only collect pearls for their hoards. Sylus was one of the dragons that was attracted to gold but primarily he was attracted to gold coins in particular. He couldn’t explain why but the shape and plentifulness of it attracted him. Hoards could get cluttered with many large objects that get caught up in the mix and buried, by coins are small and can scatter. There is something in all the sameness he had said. That didn’t mean he didn’t like gems or the occasional other treasures but coins were his favorite.
He told you about dragon traditions, celebrations, species hierarchies, family dynamics, and special rites. You had never thought of dragons having traditions or parties before but it was nice to hear.
You liked especially when he told you about how hoarding worked in adolescent dragons, hatchlings is what he called them.
“Hoarding is a kind of instinct for dragons.” Sylus explained. “When you’re a child you don’t have the means to plunder castles and whatnot stealing treasure but you still want to collect something. So they’ll run around and collect little things like pinecones, feathers, bottles, that kind of thing.”
“Did you collect anything when you were a child?” you asked.
“Nuts.”
“Nuts?”
“Acorns. Walnuts. Chestnuts. Whatever I could get my hands on.”
You snorted. “Are you a dragon or a squirrel?”
“Har har, yes, I didn’t get enough of those comments when I was little.” his tail poked you in the side. “If you were a dragon as a kid what do you think you would have collected?”
“Me? Buttons.”
“Buttons?”
“Why not?”
“Certainly a new one. But it fits for you.”
In turn you told him about your own life. You told him about your childhood growing up with just your father in the village and how you had worked in his glass shop with him. You had pulled out the pendant your father had made for you before you left and showed it to him to see the kind of wonderful work he was capable of.
“It’s beautiful.” he held the charm up to the light. “What sort of flower is this?”
“It’s a moonflower, specifically a blood moonflower. They’re a rare breed of moonflower that grows in shades of red. Strangely enough they’re also the only ones that aren’t toxic.” you took the charm back, holding it close to your chest. “My favorite story growing up was actually about the myth of the blood moon flower.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know that one.”
“Want me to tell you?”
“Sure. Tell me a story.”
“There once was a little girl that lived in a small village. One day the village was attacked by foreign invaders and everything and everyone was lost, except for her. During the chaos of the attack she had ran as fast as her feet could carry her and went up into the mountains seeking protection.”
“Wait, this sounds familiar. A girl whose village is under attack so she flees to the mountains searching for help. Where have I heard this before?” Sylus tapped his chin.
You rolled your eyes. “May I continue?”
“Go ahead.”
“Anyway, the girl makes it to the mountain and starts to climb it. She climbs and climbs and climbs till her shoes have worn through and she has made it to the top. There she finds a huge empty nest with a patch of brilliant white moonflowers growing all around it. Inside the nest were dozens of huge feathers. The girl, being cold, decided to rest there and use the feathers as a blanket.
“The next morning she awoke to find the giant bird whose nest she was resting in had returned. She feared that this would be her end but the bird saw the blanket of feathers surrounding the girl and mistook her for a baby bird.
“For years the girl lived with the bird, eating the food the giant mama bird had brought and resting warmly under her feathered body during the long windy nights. All was well until one evening under the light of the full moon the mama bird had decided that it was time for the girl to leave the nest. The girl naturally did not know what to do since she was not an actual bird. She was liable to fall and die if she leapt from the nest.
“But the mama bird kept on pushing and pushing, edging the girl out of the nest. Without any other options the girl took the feathers of her blanket in hand and held them tight. The sharp ends of the quills dug into her palms and blood seeped from her hands. The blood that fell from her hands landed on the white moonflowers around the nest and when they did it created magic. The girl stared out at the starry sky and wished with all her might, and she jumped. The moment she leapt her wish came true and the girl was turned into a bird and she flew off into the world.”
You looked back at Sylus, “And that’s why blood moonflowers are red.”
“That is a fascinating story. I do not think such magic is actually possible but it makes a nice tale.”
“Whether it was actually possible or not wasn’t what I liked about it. I don’t know why but I found it comforting. It made me believe that even in a world where I’m backed into a corner there’s another way out, another way to do things. I don’t have to plummet, I might fly.”
“It’s a lovely message my little bird. I’m afraid the tales dragons tell do not have such heartfelt meanings.”
“What kind of stories do dragons tell?”
“You want to hear one?”
“Yes.” you scooted closer. “Please?”
“Fine. Fine.” Sylus sighed. “I have a story for you.”
You smiled at him expectantly. Sylus cleared his throat and stared off into the distance. “This story does not begin with a dragon. It actually starts with a human.” he said.
“A long time ago there was a human woman who had longed for a child. She went to every healer she could find but no matter what they tried, she remained barren. So, one day, she decided to seek out magic. Not just any magic, dragon magic. Said to be the most powerful of all.
“The woman had come into their land hoping to steal some of their magic for herself so she could have her child. The dragons asked her what she was doing in their land and when she told them she came to humbly ask for their assistance, they saw through her deceit. She had not just wanted a child, she wanted a strong one. She longed to give birth to a warrior that would bring fame and glory to her family’s name. That is why she truly came to the dragons.
“The dragons decided to punish the woman with exactly what she wanted. The elder of the dragon tribe plucked a scale from their body and gave it to the woman. They told her to eat the scale and that the magic within would make her fertile. And so the woman ate the scale and returned home. Soon after she became pregnant.
“Because she had eaten the scale though her pregnancy was no normal human birth. Instead of birthing a human child she had birthed a giant egg. She realized then that she had been cursed by the dragons and tried to destroy it, but the egg was too strong. Not with a hundred hammers could it be broken. So she abandoned the egg in the forest.
“The egg was found by some passing dragons and taken back to their land. When it hatched though, what emerged was neither human nor dragon, but some monstrosity stuck in a crossroads between the two.” Sylus’s face twisted, loathing you had not seen before etched into the crease of his brow.
You wanted to reach out to him but you were scared he’d stop if you tried to comfort him.
“The dragons could not abandon this thing because it was of their kin, but they did not embrace it either.” Sylus said, his hands balling into fists, “The hatchling grew, neither a part of either world. So they decided to cut off their horns and their tail and go to live with the humans.
“For a while life with the humans was good, until his horns and tail started to grow back. He was driven out again. From town to town he went, cutting off his horns and tail over and over. When scales started to grow along his arms he scraped them off too. What no one knew was that every time he cut off his horns and tail the appendages were sinking into the earth, causing the land to fallow. Soon word had spread of a silver haired boy that would bring famine to your land if allowed to remain. Village after village he was driven out.”
Sylus had gone quiet again. The rage had swelled but smoldered into ashes before it could erupt. When he spoke again, he sounded weak and tired. “One day,” he muttered, “He came to a great cliff. Feeling he had nowhere in this world, he jumped. He fell and he fell…then, a pain exploded from his back. A pair of large webbed wings caught the air and he soared across the sky. Why it happened then he could not say but he thought perhaps it meant something. Perhaps there was a land yet that would accept him.”
For a long time neither of you said anything. Sylus was stone faced but the way his tail twitched from side to side let you know how he was really feeling. “This is a story that dragons tell their children?” you asked, quietly.
“It is.”
“Is it true?”
“What do you think?”
You lapsed back into silence. You looked him up and down, your eyes lingering on his horns. You brushed a hand through his hair. “Did it hurt?”
“What?” he looked at you out of the corner of his eye.
“Your horns. Maybe that’s why they’re so sensitive.”
He looked back out into the distance. “Maybe.”
You could not imagine what his childhood was like if that was what he had lived through. It was the most he had ever confided in you. You wanted to say something. Encourage him. Assure him. Tell him in no uncertain terms that he was not a monstrosity. You wanted to let him know that it broke your heart to hear what he had tried to do. You could not imagine being in so much pain and being so alone for so many years.
Words would not come. So instead, you pulled yourself into his lap and hugged him tight. His arms closed around you, holding you close to him. His tail even had curled around you, pushing you as close to him as you could get.
You didn’t know how long you stayed like that but it did not feel at all long enough. One hug could not put all his broken pieces together. But maybe the fact that you embraced him at all let him know that he was not alone in this world. Not anymore.
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admirationandromantics · 3 days ago
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Teacher's Lounge
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Another request! I'm thinking about not posting updates to anonymous requests, and instead just pasting said request in here? I'll tag you if you didn't ask anonymously. It's easier and more neat.
🍋‍🟩 Hear me out, Josh becoming a temporary teacher for film with his own office, he often let you study in there seeing as the campus didn’t have enough study space to accommodate everyone and you become quite overstimulated on a normal day (@b3rryb3t)
This is therefore maybe a teacher x student thing, but you're roughly the same age anyway (maybe 2 years difference), since he graduated before you and has already come out with his debut movie. You're still hanging out with the friend group as well.
Word count: 1,6k (Unedited)
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It’s hard to find good reading spots on campus. My messy room could be an option, but I can’t get inspired there. I need different surroundings than what I’m used to. Booked rooms are a no-go, especially now that exams are coming closer. They’re always booked, and everyone uses them. I’ve tried going to the library, but if there’s room, the place is never quiet. The librarians don't care. I get it though, everyone is stressed, and the only place you can work on a group assignment is the library. You have to talk, you have to discuss. This means that I’m still left without a spot to study. I’ve tried other libraries, other cafes and even at my friends place. Nothing works. Maybe there’s something in the other buildings? Somewhere quiet where I’ll feel content. 
The first building that comes to mind is the Teachers house. A large building with some group rooms and many small study sofas. Many of the teachers have offices there, but if I'm quiet, they won’t mind. These spots are usually also taken, but maybe I’ll have a chance if I’m quick. 
I walk down the hall, stopping when I see the old abandoned office. This room is usually always empty, waiting for someone to inhabit it. But it’s not empty anymore. The previously collected dust is cleaned away, the wood door has a new furnish and a brand new slide-on plate reads a familiar name. Joshua Washington. 
I widen my eyes in surprise, it cannot be. Why is he here? Didn’t he already finish his degree? He just finished his debut movie, which was excellent. I saw him at one of Emily’s parties too, which was not long ago. About three weeks. He looked good then, very good. Like he felt fulfilled and accomplished. He should feel good about himself. Not many people do that on their first big project. He did talk about a new job he got, but I assumed it was another film-related gig. Was this the job? 
My curiosity gets the better of me, and I carefully knock three times. The sound is beautiful, hard and dark wood which doesn’t vibrate as I hit it. I wait, hearing shuffling and metal clinking inside. 
“Um, yeah, come in!” 
I open the door, holding the handle hard. If I was wrong, then this would be an awfully awkward encounter. The door glides easily without making any sound. They have really improved this place. He lifts his head, meeting my stare as he does. A smile creeps on his face, eyes lighting up by the sight. I stand still, mouth agape and furrowed brows. He’s really here. 
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite student” 
“You teach here?” 
“As of this Monday, yes” 
I close the door behind me, looking around the room. It’s cozy, filled with family pictures and a couple of movie posters. His diploma is also on the wall. On one surface are many small film trophies from his childhood, and in front of all of them, the price he got last year for his first debut Hollywood movie. I look around in awe, the yellow light making everything feel so professional and real. 
“And by the way, I’m not your student, I take another course” 
“That can’t stop me from stating that you’re in a superior’s office” 
“How did you get this job?”
“They offered it to me”
“Just out of nowhere? You don’t have experience in teaching. You’re not even a professor” 
“I guess my talent shines through”
I look at him and his smug face. He’s leaning back in the roller chair, feet upon his desk. Everything here is so neat, so unlike him. He also loves being able to joke like this, but honestly, I’m still surprised by the circumstances. He made one movie, and now, the university wanted him to teach a course? 
“If I know you correctly, you’ll probably be fired by the next month” 
“And why’s that?”
I take a seat in front of him, not surprised that the chair is lower than him. Oh, how he loves his power trips. The chair is comfortable, and suits the surroundings, but I feel small. 
“Because you can’t keep your hands to yourself” 
“That’s true” 
“There’s only a question about time, when will you fuck one of your students, and when will you get caught” 
He laughs, shaking his head as he fiddles with an expensive ball pen. He looks at me in disbelief, maybe a little surprised that I said exactly what I thought. 
“Who’s to say I haven’t done it already?” 
“One week into the job?” 
“Maybe” 
“You’re disgusting, Washington” 
“That’s Mr. Washington to you” he corrects, pointing at me with the same pen. I smile at him, almost unable to hide my laughter. 
“I’m not gonna start calling you that” 
“Ugh, damn you” 
A slight silence follows, and analyse his desk. Many, many pens, his laptop, a stack of papers and a couple of memory sticks. Again, everything is so neat. It makes me feel weird. 
“By the way, I actually haven’t had a teacher-student relationship” 
“You shouldn’t” I quickly shoot back. It would not be a good idea. Being in the filming industry is hard in itself, but he also has a shot of doing something more. This was not something to take lightly. 
“At least not gonna with my own students” 
“Jesus Chris Josh”
He laughs again, loving my overdramatic reactions. He knows what gets me to tip over, how to make me irritated and upset. Of course he’ll use it to his advantage. 
“Anyways, what are you doing here? Isn’t your building on the other side of campus?” 
I sigh loudly, leaning back in the chair and letting my head fall back. I’m tired, exhausted even. But just two more weeks, and I’ll be finished with the exams. My diploma isn’t far away. 
“Trying to find a study spot, but everywhere is taken”
“Why don’t you just use your dorm?”
“Easy for you to say, you never lived in one”
He leans back, furrowing his brows and being deep in thought. 
“You could sit here?” 
I look up, surprised by the offer. Is that even okay, am I, as a student, allowed to do that? I think about it, the place is quiet, cozy and a completely different atmosphere than usual. It could work. 
“Can I?” 
“Of course, it wouldn't be the first time you’ve been in my quarters” he teases, leaning back over the desk. 
“Haha, very funny, but are you serious?” 
“Yeah, I mean, my students usually don’t come here, too busy actually understanding the material, compared to some” he points at me and my backpack. I roll my eyes. 
“Well, if getting my degree consisted of knowing the on and off button of a camera, I would excel at it”
“Careful, or you might not get to study here” 
“Okay, okay, sorry. You’re an accomplished producer and teacher who’s totally awesome” 
“And you have to call me Mr. Washington”
I scoff at his request, shaking my head. He’s still smiling, biting casually into his lower lip. 
“I draw the line there”
“Fine”
I take up my laptop, immediately starting to type. This was gonna be great. Might have some negative effects though. We’ve got a history. Too much time spent together has usually led to more uncivilised activities, but that’s not something I have to worry about now. 
***
The weeks pass, and I truly enjoy his company, even if it’s in silence. He’s busy grading papers and making schedules. I’m prepping for my exams, writing, reading, and memorising. Everything was going great, and the day of the exam finally came. 
I took one look over the questions, and my heart fell. What the hell was this? I did my best, drawing out a mind map to help me refresh my memory. It actually went quite well, if I do say so myself. Not the best, but I’m definitely not failing. 
I walk down the hall yet again, not bothering to knock on Josh’s door. His head rises, noticing my presence, and he smiles. God I love how he smiles. 
“So, how did it go?” 
I close the door, biting my lip as I turn to face him again. He looks up expectantly, eyes big and round. He rises, walking around the desk to face me. 
“It went great!” I blurt out excitedly, arms going out. He smiles, meeting me in a hug as I throw my arms around him. His hands go to my waist, pulling me closer against him. I bury my face in his neck, warm skin against mine, smelling his expensive cologne. 
“See, you just needed a place to study”
“I indeed did”
We break apart a little, arms still holding tight so none of us leaves. He leans in, eyes lowering to my lips. I know what’s about to happen, it has happened a million times before. In his bedroom, a couple of random bathrooms, the mountain lodge, but never in an office. My finger finds its way to his lips, stopping him in his tracks. 
“Mr. Washington, what do you think you’re doing?” 
“Just celebrating” he whispers against my finger, hand going up to take it away. He finds his way to the back of my head, tangling in my hair as he pulls me closer. 
“You can get in trouble”
“Never stopped us before”
His breath feels hot against my skin, head getting dizzy and body warmer. How long were we going to keep this thing alive? 
“Fuck it” I whisper against him, capturing his lips on mine.
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crimsonwolf715 · 1 day ago
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Anaphylactic Response
(Not me having to read four of @Moonlight1234’s fics {on Ao3} to properly portray Damian 😭. Don’t worry, I talked with them about it first. Eventually I’ll be able to do it without help, y’all. 🙏 Thanks to my beta reader for reading over everything. 🎉 Also as a random little note, happy birthday to Barbara Gordon! TW: Anaphylaxis and hospitals)
Damian comes downstairs to find Barbara and Dick talking in the entryway. 
“Is something happening today?” Damian asks. 
“No,” Dick answers. “Barbara’s just here to help me.” 
“Help you with what?” 
“Making cupcakes for the police station’s bake sale to help something. The hospital if I remember correctly,” Barbara answers as Dick nods. “Do you wanna help, Damian? I have to because your brother will burn the house down, but you’re free to join us if you want.” 
“I’ve baked with Alfred once or twice, so I guess I could be helpful,” Damian replies. “As long as you’re fine with it, I’d like to assist.” 
“Of course you can help,” Dick says, giving Damian a side hug. A gesture that Damian returns with a small smile. 
Barbara and Damian work on the cupcakes. While Dick originally tried to help, he was banished to sit on a bar stool at the counter because he almost put salt instead of sugar in the mix. So he fills the air with conversation about the upcoming gala. 
“That sounds super boring,” Barbara says. 
“They always are,” Damian replies. 
“We can always get ice cream after,” Dick offers. “It won’t make the event any better, but something to look forward to, right?” 
Damian thinks on the offer, then nods. 
“That’s the spirit,” Dick says, ruffling Damian’s hair as Damian walks past. 
Damian swats at Dick’s hand. “Stop that, Grayson. Cleanliness is important.” 
“Fine.” 
“Alright, time for you to put yourself to use, Dick. Get the first batch of cupcakes out of the oven and if you drop them, I will cut you,” Barbara says. 
Dick sighs and rolls his eyes, then gets the cupcakes out of the oven. 
“Beautiful,” Barbara says. “Thank you, tough guy.” 
She pats Dick’s shoulder, then rolls over to Damian. “You good?” 
“I don’t like the way this whisk’s handle makes my hand feel. It’s irritating,” Damian answers. “I’m done with it though so there’s no need to worry about it.” 
“I’m glad that you’re good. Your brother does not look fine.” 
Damian nods, then gives them a sly smile. “He has FOMO.” 
Barbara nods. Damian looks up in enough time to see Dick smiling at the two. Damian hands Barbara the batter and she pours them into the wrappers. 
“Alright, let’s get the second batch in and once they’re done, I’m gonna head out. I promised the girls that I’d chaperon their trip. Thanks for helping, Damian.” 
“You’re welcome,” Damian says, then goes over to wash his hands to get rid of the irritating feeling. 
Dick pulls the second batch out and after being checked, Barbara claps. 
“Alright, we’re good to go. You have to frost those, but it’s just store bought frosting and Tim can help you if you really need it. I have to go, but I will see you guys later,” Barbara says. “You two should try the cupcakes before you send them.” 
“I will later,” Dick says. “I think I’m gonna nap.” 
“Lazy bum,” Barbara teases. 
Dick sticks his tongue out at Barbara, who laughs. 
She grabs Damian’s hand. “Goodbye, Damian.” 
“Goodbye, Barbara.” 
She gives his hand a gentle squeeze, then Dick walks Barbara out. Damian goes into the kitchen and looks at the two plates with a single cupcake on each. He grabs them and takes them into the living room. He puts them on the table. 
Dick walks back in with a smile. “I’ll eat mine a little later Dami, but feel free to eat yours now.” 
Dick sits down on the couch and leans his head back. 
“Are you tired, Grayson?” 
“Yeah, I haven’t slept the last couple of days. Been busy.” 
“Take care of yourself, or I’ll tell Father and he’ll make you stay here.” 
Dick laughs. “You wouldn’t.” 
Damian smiles. “Try me, Grayson. I’ll do it.” 
Dick sighs, but he’s still smiling. “Fine, I’ll get some sleep after patrol tonight.” 
Damian looks back at the cupcake on the plate, contemplating actually eating it. He meticulously unwraps it. 
“Any particular route you wanna take through Gotham tonight?” Dick asks. 
“I don’t care as long as patrol gets done properly,” Damian replies, then takes a bite of the cupcake. 
He puts it back down on the plate. Almost immediately after Damian feels like something is wrong with him. After a minute, his face starts to feel warm and he starts coughing. 
“Damian?” Dick’s voice sounds far away. 
He feels his throat start to close up. 
“Dami!” 
Damian’s legs give out and he falls. Someone catches Damian and he feels something stab into his leg. Instinctively, he lashes a hand out. It’s caught by the wrist and Damian doesn’t have the strength to fight back before blacking out. 
Damian wakes up to hear a worried voice. There’s beeping. He opens his eyes and sees hospital equipment. Dick’s in the doorway, talking to someone. 
The worried voice is his.  
Damian hears the beeping picking up speed, then Dick turns. 
“Hey, Dami.” 
He goes over and sits in the chair at Damian’s bedside. 
“What happened?” Damian asks, his voice coming out a little hoarse. 
Dick cringes. 
“You had a bad reaction to something in the cupcake. Considering the recipe, we’re leaning towards something in the avocado oil,” Dick says. “I’m so sorry, buddy.” 
“What are you sorry about? It’s not like you knew what would happen and gave it to me anyway.” 
“Yeah, I know.” 
“So don’t apologize. There’s no need. Is it just us?” 
“You wish,” Dick replies. “Stephanie and Cass are the only ones not here because they’re off with Barbara. Everyone else is here. Most of them just got here, but all of them are here.” 
Damian fights the urge to groan at his family’s absurdity. 
“Dad’s talking to the doctor right now for us to set up a time for you to get an allergy test. Damn, I feel stupid for not thinking of this before.” 
“It’s not like any of the rest of us thought of it. You’re too hard on yourself.” 
“Maybe,” Dick mutters. 
Jason and Tim poke their heads into the room and look relieved to see Damian awake. 
“Hello, Todd. Drake.” 
They settle down in chairs around the bed and Damian feels an odd sense of gratitude. Even though he feels that it’s ridiculous that almost his whole family showed up, he’s glad they’re there. Jason and Tim attempt to distract Damian until Bruce comes in. 
“How are you?” Bruce asks, standing behind Dick’s chair with his hands on the headrest. 
“I’m fine,” Damian answers. 
Dick and Tim raise an eyebrow while Jason scoffs. 
“Stop that, Todd.” 
Jason shrugs. 
Bruce and Damian make eye contact for a moment, then Bruce nods. “Alright, I’ll take it for now. The test is set for a month from now. They want you to have time to fully recover from this before they expose you to anything else.” Damian nods. 
“Thank you, Father.” 
Bruce nods. 
While listening to his family talking to each other, Damian falls asleep again.
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himasgod · 3 days ago
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Gaming x Reader
Where you are a craftswoman, and he always make sure that your orders arrive correctly
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You work as a craftswoman in Yilong Port, creating small sculptures that merchants sell in other regions. Although you've seen Gaming many times helping merchants, you've never had the chance to talk to him. Everything changes when a problematic delivery leads you to cross paths with this energetic and lively escort.
(HAPPY BIRTHDAY GAMING I LOVE YOU SO MUCH <3)
At Yilong Port, work never stopped.
Every day was a dance of activity: merchants haggled, fishermen unloaded their loot, and you immersed yourself in the workshop, delicately carving small sculptures. The pieces you created, from animal figures to ornaments inspired by local legends, were in high demand in other regions. Although you loved your craft, there were days when exhaustion caught up with you, and this was one of those days.
“This order is a mess!” you muttered to yourself, looking at the pile of sculptures that still needed to be packed.
You had worked tirelessly to complete an urgent order, but the merchant who was supposed to pick it up never arrived. Now, you were at the port, carrying the box yourself and looking for the delivery man.
That was when you saw him: Gaming, with his unmistakable red amd brown hair and his smile that seemed to light up the place. He was helping a group of merchants load their ships, moving with an energy that seemed inexhaustible.
“Do you need help with that?” he suddenly asked, coming closer as he saw you struggling with the box.
“I don’t want to bother you…” you replied, but he had already taken the box with ease, as if it weighed nothing.
“It would be bothersome to let you continue carrying this alone. Come on, where are you going?”
His tone was carefree, but there was something in his eyes that made you feel like he really wanted to help.
From that moment on, Gaming began to appear frequently in your path.
He always had an excuse to stop by the workshop, whether it was to “make sure the merchants weren’t late again” or just to see how your projects were going.
At first, you found him a little annoying; his energy contrasted with your calm environment. But over time, you realized that his company made the days less lonely.
“Your sculptures are amazing,” he said one day, as he watched you work on a dragon figure.
“Thank you. I always try to make each piece tell a story,” you replied, without taking your eyes off your work.
“And what is the story of this dragon?”
You paused for a moment, surprised by his genuine interest. “It’s about a guardian who protected his people, even when no one believed in him.”
Gaming smiled, but this time his expression had something else, something melancholic. “I like it. The dragon looks like the Wushou dance's one. I also dance."
His words intrigued you, but you didn’t want to push him. It was during another conversation, while sharing an improvised Honey Char Siu, that Gaming began to open up.
“Before I got here, I traveled a lot. I’ve always wanted to see the world, meet people, help them fulfill their dreams. But…” He paused, his gaze lost on the horizon. “Sometimes I feel like, while I do that, I forget my own.”
“And what are your dreams?” you asked softly.
He laughed, though his laugh didn’t have the same energy as usual. “I guess I’m still trying to figure it out.”
It was at that moment that you realized that behind his energetic attitude, Gaming carried a burden that he didn’t always share.
Over time, your relationship became closer. He began helping you in the workshop, though his attempts at woodcarving often ended in disaster. In return, you taught him to appreciate the tranquility of the creative process, something he admitted he needed in his life.
One afternoon, as the sun set over the harbor, Gaming appeared with a surprise: a small wooden box, clumsily carved, but clearly made with effort.
“It’s not as good as your sculptures, but I wanted to make something for you,” he said, handing it to you with a nervous smile.
Opening it, you found a tiny figurine of a bird in flight. It wasn’t perfect, but that made it all the more special.
“Gaming, I... it's beautiful...” you said sincerely, feeling a warmth in your chest that you hadn’t experienced in a long time.
Gaming scratched the back of his neck, clearly relieved. “I wanted you to know that even when I’m busy with merchants or travel, I always think of you!”
That confession, simple but full of meaning, marked the beginning of something new between you.
From then on, every day at Yilong Port was a little brighter. You were no longer just a craftswoman working in solitude, and Gaming was no longer just an escort carrying other people’s burdens. Together, you found a balance: he showed you how to find joy in chaos, and you taught him to appreciate peace in the small moments.
Under the warm lights of the port, the two of you began to build something more lasting than any sculpture or journey: a connection that made every day worthwhile.
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