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hannieehaee · 5 months

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them accidentally ditching you on your bday pt. 2 - hhu

content: angsty, gender neutral, established relationship, conflict resolution, direct continuation to this, fluff, happy ending, etc.

part 1

wc: 3889

a/n: literally so many ppl requested thisjhdf im glad u guys liked it!! im working on vu and pu versions for this rn btw <3

masterlist

seungcheol -

seungcheol sat there for a minute or so, simply pondering at what had just happened. it was 100% his fault, that was something he was very well aware of. he knew that it had simply slipped his mind, but that did not wipe away the hurt he saw in your eyes upon entering your shared apartment. knowing that you had been waiting for him all day made him feel like an asshole. he couldn't believe that he had forgotten about your birthday even upon coming home at midnight the night prior. he felt like such a hypocrite, always whining at people to give him royalty treatment on his birthday but absolutely ignoring you during yours. you, his most favorite person.

he felt hurt that you had decided to spend the night with some friends, instead of in the arms of your boyfriend, but he understood. this was what he deserved. god knew that he wouldve pulled out all the dramatics if you had done the same to him, which was why he was now at a standstill, not knowing what he should do. he wanted to see you so badly, get on his knees and apologize, letting you know over and over again that you were the most vital person in his life and that forgetting you was something that not even he could forgive himself for.

now, he could've sat there and lamented himself over his stupid mistake, or he could run after you before you made it out of the building. he did not want you going to bed angry, or much worse, sad, so he picked the latter and got off his ass to chase after you, not caring about his current exhaustion as he took the stairs rather than the elevator in order to be able to catch up to you before you made it to your car.

luckily for him, he was able to catch you just as you stepped out of the elevator (having ran down five flights of stairs and almost injuring himself in the process), completely unsuspecting to his sudden ambush. he hadn't noticed until now, but you had dressed up, clearly ready to go clubbing or partying with your friends. he felt bad to get in the way of your plans. no, he felt horrible to accidentally ditch you and then ruin your plans. but he needed to at least try and make amends. he knew that if this were him, he'd want you to try and make it up to him.

you jumped back a bit at seungcheol's sudden apparition as you rounded the corner upon exiting the elevator, seemingly not having expected him to come after you.

"cheol, what are you doing?", you didn't seem mad, but your tone let him know you were clearly not content with him.

okay, he didn't think as far as this. his main goal was just to convince you to stay, then he would come up with a way to make it up to you.

"baby, i ... i'm so sorry. i know how hypocritical this is coming from me. i never meant to forget, you know that! there's nothing i can do to make up for having forgotten about you today, but please, please let me try."

"cheol .. i don't know," you paused, "last year when i texted you at 12:03 you complained about it for over an hour. you're the one always making a big deal about this. i assumed you'd care when the shoe was on your foot, but apparently not."

"i do! i do care. baby, please. let me take you out. ditch your friends. i'll take you somewhere. anywhere. i'll even take you out tomorrow too! i'll take the day off. how does that sound?"

"you cant take the day off, cheol. you're an idol-"

"i dont care! they can come and try to drag me away from you if they want. i want to be with you. please let me. please don't leave. cant stand the thought of you going to sleep alone after what i did."

you chuckled at the first half of his statement, feeling touched at the second part of it.

"are you sure?"

he scoffed, deciding to go on a leap and hold onto your hands, pulling you closer to him, "yes! there's nothing i wanted to do more today than be with you! it mightve slipped my mind that today was the day, but i had a beautiful day for us planned, baby. will you let me show you? please?"

cheol knew it was hard for you to say no to him, specially when he whined and pouted at you, giving you his best performance in order for you to understand how badly he felt. it didn't take much more for you to break, finally letting a smile graced your face as you squeezed his hands in yours.

"you better make this worth my while, choi seungcheol," god, he hated when anyone called him that, but you were the exception.

"always."

wonwoo -

wonwoo was astonished at himself, for lack of a better word. he had never been more disappointed in himself than in this moment. sure, he didn't take birthdays too seriously, and he knew you didn't either, but you always made him feel so special on his day he had only wanted to do the same. he was a lowkey guy, so his ways of showing love sometimes went unnoticed by most people, except for you. you accepted the subtlety of his love, loving him all the more for it. he felt terrible that today he showed you the exact opposite of what he had planned. he had taken weeks to perfect the dinner he had wanted to make for you, having prepared a romantic night for the two of you. all he wanted was to make you feel loved as he held you through the night, but his plan had stupidly slipped his mind.

what kind of asshole ditches their significant other on their birthday? for a stupid video game out of all things? as soon as wonwoo communicated what you had texted him to mingyu, his roommate couldn't help but scold him, telling him this was very uncharacteristic of him. which it was. everyone knew wonwoo to be a very sensible guy. it was very rare for anyone to have their feelings hurt by wonwoo. the guy was just simply too emotionally intelligent to ever be perceived as a hurtful individual. except now he had shown a careless part of himself that rarely ever faced the surface.

he was unsure of what to do. it was clear by your messages that you did not want to see him. you quite literally had asked him to not come. your texts to him were always filled with love, somehow being able to have your affections to him transcend even through text. but these were cold, and with good reason. still, wonwoo did not want to give up. the only thing that would be worse than ditching you on your birthday would be to stay where he was, knowing you were not only upset but also hurt by his actions. or rather, lack there of.

so, wonwoo was now on his way to you. well, to your apartment. you had mentioned in your messages that you would be out with friends due to his absence. it killed him that you had chosen to be with your friends over him, but he was fully aware that he only had himself to blame for that. he was glad you at least had someone to be with while his forgetfulness kept him away from you.

he had a key to your apartment, often heading over to fall asleep in your arms after a grueling day of being an idol. upon arriving there, he knew you'd be gone, so he allowed himself in, hauling in all the ingredients he had packed with him in order to make you the dinner he had been planning all these weeks. he was unsure of when you'd arrive back home, so he needed to hurry just in case. there was also a chance you'd come back in the early hours of the morning, knowing you would sometimes stay out with your friends til 1 or 2 in the am. having practiced this dinner multiple times, wonwoo was able to have it all done by 10, hoping that you'd arrive soon so the dinner wouldn't go to waste. he took care of the ambience, lighting candles and even moving furniture aside to make space for his set up. all he had to do now was wait for your arrival.

it had taken you around two hours to arrive. wonwoo had simply sat there waiting for you, not wanting to contact you as to not disturb you. okay, maybe he had maniacally texted you back earlier, apologizing for his mistake over and over, but had received no response, so he had decided it'd be best to just wait for you to arrive on your own. and now you were here, crossing the door to your apartment.

you stopped upon spotting him, widening your eyes before taking note of the dinner table behind him, "wonwoo? what are you doing here?"

he smiled sadly at you, slightly unsure of what to say, "i cooked for you," he paused, continuing upon seeing your confusion, "im so sorry. time got the best of me. i cant believe it slipped my mind. i knew it was today, but i got too distracted. i never wanted to make you feel like i didnt care. i do. so much."

you stood there without saying anything, still carrying a slightly shocked expression on your face. so he continued.

"baby ... please, have a meal with me. i prepared all this for you. this is what i had planned for today, if only i hadnt forgotten. let me make it up to you, please. i already called off tomorrow. i had a whole day planned for us, but i'll do whatever you want. if you want me to leave, i will. just, please. i need you to know how much i care. i love you, you're everything."

you continued to stare at him for a bit, a soft smile slowly breaking into your features before responding.

"nonu .. you didn't have to do all this. i'm sorry if i made you worry. this is ... it's such a sweet gesture. of course i want you to stay. all i wanted all day was to be with you," it melted his heart that you had wanted him all day, but were separated by none other than himself.

he pulled you into his arms halfway through your response, humming as he felt you hug him back. nothing felt as nice as your touch against his.

"im so sorry, beautiful. this will never happen again, i promise."

"i love you, wonwoo. thank you."

"happy birthday."

mingyu -

mingyu had never hauled ass quicker than at that moment, not even bothering to say goodbye to his roommate before grabbing a jacket and sprinting out of the door.

he couldn't believe his behavior towards you. you had always been a top priority to him, and to now realize he had forgotten your birthday gutted him tremendously. but what got to him even more was the knowledge that you had probably been waiting all day for him, having agreed beforehand that he would make space for you on your special day even through his packed comeback schedule. the sole thought that you, the bestest person he had ever met, had sat alone waiting for him all day, made him feel like the worst boyfriend. so now he was quite literally running in order to get to you.

the dryness of your voice during that call should've been the first hint that something was wrong, but what really made the alarms go off in his head was your lack of response when he said 'i love you' to you. mingyu knew it was dumb to care so much about it, but he thrived off words of affirmation, so your lack of response made him immediately assume something was wrong. you had never not reciprocated his words of affection, much less hung up on him. the moment he expressed his concerns to wonwoo, he was reminded by his roommate that 'oh wait, isn't it their birthday this week?' suddenly his mind started spiraling, now remembering that he had forgotten his boyfriend duties on the most important day.

it didn't take him too long to get to your apartment. okay, he didn't actually run there, he was just being a tad bit dramatic. but dramatics were necessary in this situation, which is why the moment you begrudgingly opened the door after his incessant knocks, allowing him inside, he immediately dropped to his knees, looking up at you as he rambled apologies at you.

"baby, i'm so fucking sorry. god, i don't know how i forgot. i swear the day just slipped my mind. i had plans ready, i swear! i've just been so busy with the comeback- not that that's an excuse! you have every reason to be mad at me. it won't happen again, i promise, i-" mingyu wasn't sure when exactly he was going to stop listing off constant apologies to you. he wasn't really paying attention to what he was saying at this point, just repeating himself over and over again, letting it slip past him that you were now standing above him, holding in your amusement at the state of the pleading man before you.

"mingyu, please get up."

like an obedient boy, he got up, now towering over you as he usually did. he immediately held onto your hands, bringing them up to his chest as he continued his apologies.

"you have every right to be mad at me. i neglected you and forgot about you when i shouldn't have. i didn't even wanna come home to wonwoo tonight! i wanted to come to you! but we have a schedule early tomorrow morning, so it was just easier. but i'll cancel! i'll stay here with you! i wanna make it up to you-"

"mingyu, shut up!"

that was enough for him to slam his mouth shut immediately, looking at you as he waited for your next command words.

"mingyu, listen. i understand. i was hurt you forgot, but i understand you're really busy right now, okay? i'm not angry at you. you don't have to cancel your schedule either. i don't want to get in the way of-"

"i'll do it! you're my top priority, baby. you know that."

"i still don't want you to cancel, gyu. it's fine. i'm not angry. i appreciate your apology. just wanted to be with you today .. i'm sorry if i made you worry," you looked down, almost as if embarrassed by having felt hurt by his actions. this made mingyu melt with guilt.

"no, baby. fuck. how can i make this up to you? can i stay here tonight? hmm? i'll cook you dinner and wake you up with breakfast. i'll even cut my schedule short for tomorrow so i can be back home with you earlier. how's that sound?"

"sounds perfect mingyu, thank you," he took this as confirmation to finally hold you in his arms, swaying you back and forth as he hummed the birthday song lightly against your ear, causing you to giggle against him.

vernon -

everyone was aware that vernon could sometimes be a little too chill for his own good. he didn't make too big of a deal about most things, simply going with the flow and allowing things to evolve on their own. except that could not be done in this situation. right now, he needed to make a choice. give you your space, or run home to you, tail between his legs as he apologized for ever having forgotten about you. the last thing vernon would ever want was for you to not feel the immense amount of love he's always had for you. he knew he could be bad at showing it sometimes, but you were the absolute love of his life, which made him feel devastated over and over again as he kept rereading your texts.

'maybe you should stay at the dorms tonight. not really in the mood for you to spend the night. im sorry. love you.' that was what you had last sent to him exactly thirty-eight minutes ago. how could he just sit with that for the rest of the night? specially when all he wanted to do was be with you and hold you and kiss you and show you how incredibly obsessed with you he was. he was never good with dates, but he had always gotten any and all dates pertaining to you right thus far. he even had a gift for you he had purchased a few months back, but he had stupidly forgotten the day he had been preparing for was this week. this mistake was an outlier, truly, but it hurt you nonetheless, which was all vernon cared about at the moment. he couldn't believe you'd been having to hint at your birthday while your boyfriend remained clueless. you must've felt so dejected. he winced at the thought.

however, right now was not a time for lamentations. even if you kicked him out and told him to get fucked, vernon had to at least try to come home to you now. he quickly went over the situation with his members, explaining that he had been a total douchebag and neglected you. that earned him scoldings from all members present, calling him all types of names and demanding he head over to your apartment right this instant to beg for forgiveness and hope you wouldn't just send him right back.

so now he was on his way to you, despite you having instructed him to stay away. he wanted to respect your wishes, but he couldn't go to sleep tonight knowing your heart was still hurt because of him. he needed to at least see you and have you know that he was willing to try and mend things. vernon wasn't one for public displays, nor was he one for dramatics, but he was willing to pull all stops for you if it meant you'd forgive him. which was why he was currently running through the hybe hallways as he called up his driver to be ready to take him to your apartment as soon as he reached the parking lot.

he had had time to think over a game plan on the way over, except nothing came to mind. the two of you had never fought before. sure, there had been a few minuscule spats here and there, but he had never seen you angry at him before; he'd never given any reason to be until now. he didn't want to freak out over this, but knew how hurtful it must've been for you to feel so neglected by the person who's supposed to love you most, so he felt a pit in his stomach with the worry that maybe this would be enough for you to finally snap at his forgetful tendencies and end it. he didn't have much time to think about this, however, as he now stood in front of your apartment door, fearful of knocking on it.

the decision to open the door was made for him, as you incidentally opened it yourself, yelping at his apparition on the other side of it.

"vernon? what are you doing here?", you didn't seem angry. you seemed more confused at his presence. that was good.

"i- uh ... i'm sorry."

okay, kind of a bad start.

"vernon. i told you not to come over tonight. i'm sorry, i'm not really in the mood to see you right now," even though you didn't appear angry, your eyes wouldn't meet his, making him deflate a bit.

"are you mad at me? i'm so sorry. i didnt mean to forget, i swear," vernon knew there wasn't much he could say past that, but he wanted you to at least know he regretted his neglect.

"i'm not angry, vernon. i'm just a little ... sad. i tried to be subtle about it. i mean, i dont even care for my birthday that much, but i hoped my boyfriend would at least remember it."

"baby, god. i am so fucking sorry. i never meant to make you feel like i didn't care. it just slipped my mind. i know it's not a valid excuse, but i need you to know that it doesnt mean anything. i'm just a fucking idiot. i'm sorry."

he was rambling now. somehow you being hurt by him trumped the chance of you being mad.

"vernon, it's fine. i dont want you beating yourself up about it. i'll get over it. i just need space tonight. i was about to go meet with a friend before you got here," you seemed like you just wanted to get out of the situation, clearly feeling awkward at even expressing your disappointment at him. it made vernon feel like even more of an asshole.

"no! be mad! you shouldn't get over it. i should be making it up to you. stay. please. i'll do anything you want. i'll take tomorrow off. we can do something together. anything you want. i have a gift for you and everything! i got it while in japan, the date just slipped my mind, i swear. please stay. i don't want to leave you alone if i made you sad. please."

"vernon ..."

"please. i don't want to force you. if you want to leave, i'll accept it, but let me make it up to you. i dont want you to feel like i dont care. i do. i know i dont express it much, that's on me. i'll make it known. i'll show you. i don't want to hurt you again, i-"

he was unable to finish his sentence, now stumbling back due to a sudden weight against him. you, with your arms now wrapped around him as your face nuzzled his neck. he instinctively wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you in as he lowered his head to breathe you in, humming as he felt the relief of having you in his hold.

you pulled away too quickly for his liking, eyes slightly glossy but not enough to consider it worrisome, "i forgive you. i'm sorry, i didn't mean to exaggerate. i did feel neglected, but-"

"but nothing. don't apologize, please. this won't happen again, okay? i love you."

"i love you too," you smiled at him before pausing, "i .. do you wanna come in?", you seemed a bit sheepish, probably feeling awkward at hearing vernon ramble apologies at you for the past five minutes, showing way more emotion than he usually did.

"come in? oh, you're not leaving? wait, don't answer that. yes," he held onto your hand before you could say anything, pulling you in for a quick kiss before leading you into your apartment, all under the promise to make up for his previous carelessness and never make you doubt his affections for you ever again.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #seventeen #svt #svt x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen oneshot #svt oneshot #seventeen reactions #svt reactions #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #svt angst #svt fluff

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mrpenguinpants · 21 days

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Darling, Kiss Me.

— Kissing Scenarios with Honkai Men.

— Dan Heng, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Sampo, Welt, Dan Feng + Blade

[Masterlist]

I’m alive, surprise. This is an old fic that I managed to finish but I must have been injected with 40ccs of something because I don’t remember this being so sappy. I’m also editing this on my phone.

Dan Heng

Despite Dan Heng's outwardly stoic and blank expressions, his actions show his hidden affectionate nature reserved for the ones he cares about most. When March wants to take a picture, he will throw up a peace sign even though he never smiles brightly for the photo. When Himeko brews her infamous coffee, he drinks it under the pretense of "stamina training," yet he downs it all the same. But with you, it's slightly different. The intimacy you both share is silent, one that doesn't require flowery words to convey the comfort you find in each other's company. His eyes will soften slightly whenever he looks at you, and even in a crowded room, his gaze automatically shifts to yours as if drawn to you. How he always has an arm around your waist if the ground is uneven and how he doesn't shy away from your touch either but wordlessly leans into the warmth. Likewise, you have a fondness for the simple acts. Stepping to the side to always make space for him in group conversations and most importantly, brushing his hair. It's short and always relatively straight, but it's a simple act that you treasure. Plus he makes a sound similar to a purr when he closes his eyes to relish in your gentle touch that has your heart warming.

"Dan Heng?" you breathe softly above him, and he lifts his head with a gentle hum. Your hands move from his hair to cradle his face, fingertips drawing soothing circles before your thumb rests on his bottom lip. It makes him smile a tad, your unspoken desire is evident and he opens his eyes to peer up at your shy expression. "May I kiss you?"

His silent nod confirms your wish, and the anticipation in his eyes has you biting your lip to stifle your giggle. Without wasting another second, you tuck your hair behind your ear and lean down to give him a deep kiss. The feelings of you so close to him, your chest against his back, his face in your hands, the contrast between his roughness and your soft demeanor sends a shiver of delight through his body. But unlike him, you have to break away shortly to catch your breath. Though he doesn't let you breathe for too long.

"Again," he whispers, his eyes laced with desire. Your giggle rings out, a delightful sound that brings a smile to his face. As you intertwine your fingers with his, you lean in to kiss him once more.

Gepard

Gepard wonders how everyone would react if they knew their disciplined Captain was nothing more than a hopeless lovesick fool. How you would react if you knew how often he sits at his desk and daydreams of you rather than getting any actual work done. He leans his chin against his head, blankly staring at the most recent report that sits on his desk, yet his thoughts revolve around you. The messy bed hair that greeted him in the bathroom mirror, the sleepy good mornings and goodbyes before he left for work, and the small peck on the cheek as you sent him off.

He takes his earlier thought back. He wonders how his younger self would react knowing that the Gepard now can't even get through a few minutes without thinking about his spouse. What reaction would he have seeing the ring on his finger?

"Are you slacking off Captain?" a voice calls from behind as a pair of hands covers his eyes before he feels something soft against his forehead. He nearly breaks his desk when he jumps, accidentally hitting his knee, and the resounding thud has him wincing, but he quickly covers it with a pained smile. It does nothing to placate you as you rush to his side with concerned eyes and your hands already ready to soothe whatever injury he has.

"Are you alright?" you ask, your adorable concern shines through with the way your eyes scatter around to see if he has any other injuries. How meek you look with your hands locked together nervously, the way your lips downturn into a cute pout. But his enamourment time is cut short as he quickly stands from his seat to place two hands on your shoulder and give you a reassuring smile.

"Yes, I'm alright. Although, what are you doing here? Not that I'm not happy to see you of course," he flushes at his startled reaction to your presence, but you don't seem to take any offense if your smile is anything to go by. You tilt your head at him, a cheeky smile playing on your lips, as you wrap your arms around his middle.

"Geppie, it's lunchtime. We're supposed to go out, remember?" You shake your head, but the fondness of your tone and the nickname stir a gentle affection within him. He easily picks you up into his arms, the delighted squeal and another kiss on the cheek he gets for the action that brings a smile to his face, as he waltzes out the door with you.

Jing Yuan

Jing Yuan isn't the Arbiter-Generals of the Xianzhou Alliance's Cloud Knights for nothing. Even with the "dozing" term attached to a rather prestigious title, he is fully aware of what you're doing. The attempts to weasel up to him, practically in his lap as you lean against him, only to pull away at the last moment. You playfully twirl his hair with your index finger before sticking your tongue out and skipping away.

But now it's night time and Jing Yuan can shed his title like the armor he smoothly removes in practiced motions. Right now, he is but a man who desires to kiss his tease of a lover. He doesn't give you a warning, this entire day has been a warning anyway, and he won't let you run away before getting his just dues. After all the playful antics, it's his turn now.

His eyes remain on his papers, but his ears are alert as he waits for your fifth sneak-up attack. Already attuned to the familiar rhythm of your footsteps approaching from behind as he counts down in his head. Your fingers brush against his hair, and he can sense the mischievous glint in your eyes, before he swiftly turns and scoops you up into his arms. The squeal that escapes you is more than worth it as you giggle and wiggle out of his hold.

"Nooo, let me go!" your cries are light-hearted and Jing Yuan revels in the moment of gentle playfulness that's desperately missing in his life as a general. You frantically continue tugging at anything that can free you, from the sleeve on his forearms to the lapels in his coat, you even crane your neck to bite his face as if you're a wild animal. Jing Yuan chuckles with a smug smile, and in the showmanship of strength, he easily stands up, his hands firmly under your knees in a secure but gentle grasp.

"Finally caught you," he breathes out softly before tilting his head down and closing the distance between your lips.

Sampo

"What exactly are you doing?" a voice sounds behind him, causing him to flinch slightly as he spins on his heel, his arms already up. He meets your frown with a cheerful smile and even a playful wink. Sadly, his charming facade has no affect on you, if anything it makes your frown deeper as your hands come up to cup around your mouth.

"Captain Gepard! There's a weird man he-"

"Wait! Wait! Stop! I'm sorry!" Sampo pleads, falling to his knees with his arms outstretched to latch his slimy hands around your waist as he nuzzles his face against your stomach. "Seriously, how could you do that to your own boyfriend?!"

You let out a sigh beyond your years but you sigh nonetheless. Your hands come up to pet Sampo's head, fingers brushing through his blue hair before your hand pushes away the strands lying upon his forehead so you can see both of his eyes. He peers up at you curiously before sending you another wink that you immediately pinch his cheek for.

"You know I wouldn't do that. Besides, what are you doing here exactly? If it is something scammy, I will tell Gepard," you say and Sampo gives you a devilish grin that has you instantly regretting asking. He unlatches himself from you to stand and reach for something in a wooden barrel. Before he pulls his arm out, he glances back at you to make sure your eyes are on him, before he pulls out a single white flower.

"For the most beautiful person in the galaxy. It's called a cecilia flower. A beautiful flower with a name that suits its appearance. It only grows where harsh winds blow, and is just as intangible as the true heart of an unbound soul. Here, for you," Sampo offers the flower to you and you tentatively reach out and grasp the delicate stem. You glance up at him to confirm, and Sampo nods with a sincere smile, and you let yourself fall into childlike glee of being gifted a flower.

"Thank you, Sampo," you whisper, "It's lovely."

A surprised squeak escapes your lips when Sampo nips at you, and then he starts peppering your face with soft kisses. It’s enough to distract you from asking how the hell he managed to get this flower.

Welt

Welt's caring nature knows no bounds for anyone he holds close to. Whether it's making sure the "youngster's" are well-prepared for their journey or making sure Himeko isn't downing her 7th cup of coffee, he ensures each interaction is filled with tenderness and care. Though he understands that everyone on the Express may come and go, he approaches every action with consideration and cherishing the time you spend with each other while it's still here.

In the quietness of the Express, where everyone has retired to their room, Welt sit's alone in the parlor alone. Even Pom-Pom has found a place to curl up and sleep the night away, leaving Welt to sit and bask in the silence. That is until he hears the familiar noise of the automatic door sliding open and he looks up to meet your startled eyes. You're both in a stand still as if he's caught you do something bad, regardless of the fact you're almost the same age, before he sends you a soft smile.

"Can't sleep? I understand — inspiration always comes knocking in the small hours. It's hard to ignore, right?" he asks voice almost a whisper as you sheepishly nod as you approach him and sit down beside him. It's a comforting silence between the two of you, the heat of your bodies drawn close together, as the world outside fades away. Until a soft hum escapes you and you lift your head to look at him, his small smile meeting your curious gaze, as he patiently waits for your inquiry.

"Can I kiss you?" you ask, your voice slightly raspy from the lack of sleep but the amusement that flickers in your eyes is active enough that Welt props himself up to look at you more directly.

"Right now?" he asks, curiosity lacing his voice at your abrupt request rather than scrutiny. You nod an answer as you shuffle closer, still giving enough distance should Welt be uncomfortable, but he doesn't pull away, instead reaching out to brush your hair back and tuck it behind your ears.

In a quiet shuffle, he moves closer to you, his hand tenderly caressing your cheek. His fingers trace the curve of your face affectionately, his movements slow and thoughtful. The earlier teasing gives way to a moment of genuine intimacy, punctuated by the softness of his touch and the warmth of his gaze. As he leans in, you can feel his warm breath fanning your face, his eyes half-closed, as if savoring the anticipation of the moment. As he pulls you in, you close your eyes, the corners of your mouth lifting into a smile when his lips meet yours. The kiss is sweet and gentle, filled with the love that you share.

Dan Feng

Due to his position in the hierarchy of the Xianzhou, Dan Feng's desires are kept under a tight lid outside of his own control. His words and orders are listened to and acted upon, but when it comes to more personal wants, they are shut down entirely and removed. After all, their esteemed High Elder shouldn't be swayed by such material and emotional things. So when it comes to being selfish, Dan Feng will often imply his needs rather than outright stating them. Whether it's a simple request for your time over cups of steaming tea or a craving for the solace of your presence, it leaves you blindly guessing most of the time for what your dragon yearns for.

So naturally, as you walk ahead of him and the distance grows between you, you don't hear his faint coughs and subtle glances to catch your attention. He even makes a desperate attempt, reaching his hand out to catch your shoulder, but his hesitation catches him and his fingertips hover before you step away out of reach.

Thump Thump

He quickly reaches behind him to stop his tail from thumping against the wooden floors but it's too late. The noise makes you turn around, looking around the surrounding area before settling on him curiously. The slight tilt of your head as you silently question him if he heard the same sound as you did but all he can focus on is what that cute little action does to his heart. His grip on his tail tightens.

"High Elder? Is there something that is not to your standard?" you politely ask and he mentally huffs at your words. You're both alone, you don't need to address him like that anymore. A turquois scaly tail shifts out beneath his clothing, looping around your ankle, and with a good tug, he pulls you towards him.

"High Elder?" you asked, bewildered, as you look up to face an awkward Dan Feng. There's a fraction of a pout forming on his lips as he continues to stare elsewhere, his tail rhythmically tapping against your leg as if that will help you understand his hidden meaning. However, when you take too long, Dan Feng's eyes glance over to yours, the drift down to your lips, before snapping back up and away at the wall. He ignores how fast his cheeks heat up when you start giggling, even pressing your face into his chest to try and muffle it.

"Come here," you whisper, your hands trailing up from his shoulders to his cheeks as you pull him gently down. Even if he is the High Elder of the Vidyadhara, he follows your command.

Blade

Given Blade's past and present circumstances, he hasn't had the time to sit down and explore more complicated relationships, let alone friendships, even with his loosely named comrades. His days are restless, and he rarely sleeps much when every time he closes his eyes, a familiar pair of ocean eyes stare back before searing pain over his body jolts him awake.

You find yourself in this strange limbo of understanding but feeling the weight of his absence. You aren't sure where you stand in Blade's hierarchy of concerns. Whether you're on that list entirely or not. There are nights when he stumbles into your bed, but you'll never wake up to him in the morning. There are moments when he'll abruptly flinch away from you before leaving you behind in the comfort of your home. The constant back-and-forth leaves you both yearning for him, yet spiteful that this one man has so much control over your emotions. Sometimes it feels like it isn't worth it anymore.

However, those difficult moments are balanced by Blade's sincere efforts. How he'll turn his back to you when he places his sword away, how he'll bring you things when he's been gone for an especially long time, and how sometimes it looks like he's looking at you and not someone else. They all stir warmth in your heart, and you think to yourself that next time, next time for sure, you'll tell him to never come back.

"Are you leaving?" you whisper behind him as he pulls his coat back onto his shoulders. The low beam of the streetlamps peeking through your window is the only source of light, but it's enough to see Blade nod. Although it's not like you need confirmation, you've been through this song and dance far too many times, "This is the las-".

In a sudden and unexpected twist of fate, Blade turns around and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him. His hand comes up to press your head gently against his chest, so close that you can't see his expression.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs into the quietness of the night as he kisses the top of your head.

"I'll be back soon," is all he says. Those are his parting words before he disappears into the night and leaves you alone in your quiet house once again.

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loaksky · 1 year

Text

— 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴

the lowdown — the one where neteyam is shackled by appearances, but you couldn’t care less.

the who — neteyam x fem omatikaya!reader

the word count — 2.2k

the tags & warnings — language ,, misunderstandings (i love this trope and this is a hill i’ll die on i’m SORRY) ,, neteyam’s friends can be shitty, but mean well ,, reader just wants to love up on her boy :(

the notes — based off of this request! this is another addition to my neteyam content, but ik some of you guys are itching for some other characters, so i'm probably gonna steer in another direction & write for kiri & tsireya so if that interests you, stay tuned! <3

(not proofread well lmao)

masterlist

Neteyam is many things; a kind spirit, a fierce warrior, a loving brother, a diligent son. But Neteyam is also new to love. Not quite new to being in love, but learning the act of loving you.

He’d found so many ways to express his heart’s desire; written notes on scraps, gentle smiles, searing eyes. It was one thing in particular, though, that made his mouth dry, made his brain nearly short circuit, and it was your need to be in his space.

Even after many days that bleed into weeks and meld into months, you make his cheeks warm with every lingering pass of your fingertips, make his stomach knot with every fluttering kiss to his skin.

It’d been a pleasant surprise at first, but now it was a need, an absolute necessity to have you fused to him like a second skin. Your touch was a tacit word and he was learning to speak your language.

The two of you together was normalcy and the clan members were more than delighted to know that the olo’eyktan’s son was lucky in love. But there were teasing whispers, lilting voices in the background that made something uncomfortable pinch the back of his brain.

His skin would light up with equal parts want and embarrassment when you’d hang loosely around him during evening meals and the villagers his age would giggle and murmur behind their palms about the two of you. Didn’t help that you were an oblivious thing, or maybe you didn’t care, when you’d hold his hand in your own, occasionally bringing his fingertips to your lips during casual conversation.

And he didn’t mind loving you endlessly when you were just two souls enjoying each other, but he can’t help but tense when his eyes wander and he sees watchful gazes.

“Mighty warrior is a needy one, huh?”

His friends, comrades since childhood, surround him on a sunny afternoon. Neteyam pauses his actions, arrow in the midst of a sharpening.

His spine goes rigid and his eyes narrow.

“What are you on about?” he asks, jaw locking.

“Even in the moments you aren’t with her, you’re thinking about her,” his friend Marin says with a shiteating grin.

“Don’t even,” Neteyam warns, eyes rolling as he continues with sharpening his arrows.

“Oh, come on,” another one of his friends guffaws, twining a new bow string. “You haven’t said a word since we sat down.”

And he wishes he could form a solid argument, but you are on his mind, all-consuming as always. Can’t help it when he’s pined after you for years and only recently found the courage to act on his heart.

“Maybe I just don’t want to engage with you assholes,” Neteyam bites, fist tightening around his dagger.

“Yeah, because if you open your mouth, all you’ll be able to talk about is my girl this and my girl that,” Marin teases. “Who knew future olo’eyktan was so clingy.”

“Yeah, like it’s me who’s clingy,” he grunts, resuming the task at hand with much more fervor.

“Is it not?” Marin challenges. “Oh, ________, my love, look at these flowers I picked for you.”

The blood is rushing to his ears as his friends howl with laughter.

“Syulang, I wrote you twelve pages declaring my love even though we’ve seen each other thrice since last eclipse.” The taunting makes him seethe, makes the feeling of discomfort surface all over again and the words are spilling before he can plug the dam.

“Of course it’s not me,” Neteyam scoffs. “I keep my composure, but it’s her that insists on constantly reminding the village that we’re together. If I had it my way, nothing would have changed from when we were friends.”

It’s a lie and he knows it, his friends know it. But you, you who staggers outside of the training circle at the sound of multiple voices don’t know it.

It’s like a swift strike to the gut, one that squashes every butterfly that tickled the lining of your stomach on your way to fetch the very man who’d held your heart and crushed it all the same.

Your satchel, heavy with fruits and snacks for after your evening swim with Neteyam, weighs heavy across your front as you debate whether or not you should be listening to a conversation that is obviously not meant for your ear. But it’s like you’re rooted to the soil beneath you.

“Yeah, okay,” Marin chuffs, obviously not convinced. “If you’re so bothered by your dynamic now, there isn’t any reason why you wouldn’t say anything. She’s your second skin and you love it.”

He does, he thinks to himself.

Of course he doesn’t, you realize, horrified, the thousand and one times your hands would find his body and he’d tense or shy away replaying like a horror reel in your brain.

“I potentially hold the future of this clan in my hands,” Neteyam says. “It is my duty to endure all things whether or not I enjoy it.”

It’s like you’re doused with water so cold at the violent shiver that shakes your spine.

Just another thing to endure, you mull over in your brain as the barge of emotions brims dangerously near the surface.

You break from the edge of the clearing and you’re off.

Something is off.

And Neteyam is ashamed to admit that it takes him obnoxiously long to notice. Maybe it’s because he’s caught up in his duties, or maybe for once in his life, he isn’t worrying about meddlesome gazing, but the shift is imperceptible.

You’re still you, so aching beautiful and devastatingly radiant, but something is different. He doesn’t pinpoint it until he’s bidding you a farewell, leaning into your space to plant a kiss on your lips when you ease away to beam at him nervously instead.

His brows furrow when you wave, breaking away from him to scurry home.

He thinks it’s a one off, something he shouldn’t read too much into, but he can’t help it. Not when he’s so used to your touch, so used to feeling the pads of your fingers denting his skin and the scald of your lips.

He tries again a few nights later, after finally getting you alone. He’d been busy assisting his father in planning a raid at the end of the month and you were busy trying to put as much distance between the two of you.

“You’re awfully quiet, bug,” Neteyam observes softly, chin dipping under the water as he swims closer to where you float on the surface, eyes closed.

You only hum, pleading silently that he’ll let it pass. But when his fingers skim your navel, you’re jerking away from him, settling so that a berth of glittering blue separates the two of you.

He forces a laugh, wading closer to you as you seemingly shrink.

“What’s wrong?” he asks when he sees something like discomfort flitting over your expression, concern eclipsing his features as he reaches forward to grab you by your arm.

“Nothing…” you swallow, staring at the rounded stones beaded through the necklace you made him early on in your budding relationship.

He doesn’t buy it, tilting your chin up with deft fingers.

“Hey, hey,” he says softly, searching your face for a tell. “Talk to me.”

“Nothing,” you breathe, peeling away from him to wade back towards the embankment. “It’s nothing.”

He watches as you hoist yourself up from the river, heart in his throat.

He cracks when the others seem to notice, slowly catching onto the fact that the usually doting and loving partner of the olo’eyktan’s son is surprisingly distant. It’s during an evening meal, villagers surrounding the multiple fires, when it comes to a head.

There’s an unusual space between your bodies as you chat with Kiri and a few others and he can’t help but close the gap as something akin to desperation washes over him. His fingers brush the span of your shoulders to pull you into his chest, lips a hairsbreadth from your temple before your palm snakes between your bodies and plants on his chest to nudge him away.

He bites the inside of his cheek in annoyance as Marin and his other friends share knowing glances.

While he boils silently, you ache to tell him that you don’t mean it, that there’s nothing more you’d want than to spend every waking moment in his arms, but that day in the clearing is a humiliating reminder that Neteyam is shackled to his honor and if it means making you happy despite his discomfort, he’d endure it all.

You hate it, hate that he’d let you feel like things were alright leading up to this moment, that he’d suffer at the expense of mocking and badgering from his friends. Makes you feel embarrassed, sorry, that you’d read the two of you all wrong.

You feel his fingers inching towards yours, pinkie overlapping with yours. Your hands involuntarily close into fists and that’s all it takes for Neteyam to shoot up from his perch on the log and take you by the elbow.

There’s a hush as his friends and yours watch the two of you part ways with the group, the nearly feral look in their leader’s son suggestively mistaken.

“Why won’t you touch me?” Neteyam asks fiercely, once enough distance lies between the two of you and the rest of the clan.

His words make your cheeks warm, but he looks troubled, hurt.

“I-”

“Did I do something to disgust you? Did I…”

His words melt into the background as you watch him with teary eyes.

“You don’t have to pretend with me, Teyam,” you whisper. “You can tell me the truth. I’m a big girl.”

“What are you talking about?” he asks, frustrated. “You’re the one hiding something. These past few weeks I’ve been trying to be with you, trying to love you and you keep pushing me away.”

A twinge of annoyance erupts in the pit of your belly as you frown.

“That’s rich coming from you,” you murmur hoarsely.

“I’m so lost right now, ________,” he admits desperately. “We were fine, everything was great, and suddenly I feel like I’m losing you. Did I do something? Are you–”

“Just be honest with me!” you cry out. “Why do you have to put on this front all the time? It’s just me, Neteyam! If I overwhelm you, if I embarrass you, just say it! It hurts worse when you act like it’s nothing.”

And Christ, his friends were right. He is needy. Because you’re not a want but a lifeline. A dire necessity that he feels the need to cling to in this moment. This feels a lot like you two are splintering, and he’s about to open his mouth to ask what would compel you to say such a thing, but then it clicks.

The final piece of the puzzle that he’d been agonizing over falls into place and his eyes are widening.

“No,” he says vehemently. “That wasn’t–”

“Is it not?” you cut him off as you dash the threatening tears away.

“God, no,” he breathes. “I was– They were…”

You watch him with wet lashes and his heart aches as he takes the leap and pulls you into his chest with a shuddering breath.

“I’m so stupid.” His chest rumbles as your ear presses to his heart, arms winding tightly around your figure to buoy you to place. “Fuck.”

You hiccup and his hand cradles your head, peppering kisses against your hair as he sways your bodies like it’ll disorient the miscommunication and send it spiraling away.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper. “I didn’t mean to be embarrassing. I–”

“No, no, bug,” he swallows, hugging you so tight, you struggle to suck a breath into your lungs. “You’re not, I promise. I could never be embarrassed by you.”

You shudder so hard his grip loosens, parting with you to cup your flushed cheeks in his hands.

“They were ripping me a new one,” he says shakily. “Told me I was needy, clingy, and I was embarrassed because they’re right.”

Your throat bobs and Neteyam’s thumb brushes over the apple of your cheeks.

“You make me so weak, you don’t even understand,” he laughs humorlessly, body wracked with nerves, with want, with need. “I said it to save face because I never know what to do with myself around you.”

“You—”

“And I know it was wrong, talking out of my ass to get them to shut the fuck up,” his language is a crass reminder that he’s a former marine’s son, “but I don’t think I’ll ever get used to being yours.”

Yours.

It’s a sound declaration, one that makes you crumple like a baby because you’ve missed your person, and Neteyam hugs you close again.

“I’m sorry I’m so clueless sometimes, bug,” he whispers, cheek nuzzling the top of your head. “Love you more than anything, I mean it.”

You hiccup again.

“Love you, too, stupid” you mumble, arms wrapping around the narrow of his waist.

It’s your first meaningful touch in weeks and Neteyam melts under the heat of your body, under the heat of your warm hands.

taglist; @nao-cchi , @jkiminpark , @philiasoul @amart-e , @s-u-t , @netesbby , @tayswiftlovebot , @dumb-fawkin-bitch , @ewackmn , @fanboyluvr , @neteyamoa , @itssiaaax , @girlpostingsposts , @athenachu

#neteyam drabble #neteyam fic #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully #neteyam #avatar way of water #avatar #avatar the movie #avatar the way of water #atwow

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01zfan · 2 months

Text

pray/want | j. sc

bad boy!sungchan x church girl!reader | 9.5k words

back at it again with another installment of my sacrilegious series! hope you guys enjoy heh. loosely based off of it will come back by hozier.

contains: drug mention, hand stuff (f. and m. receiving), biblical references and allusions to mary magdalene

sacrilegious masterlist

you were too forgiving. too merciful. you were raised to think it was a strength. giving extra grace to people who don’t deserve it. forgiving those who took advantage of you.

it was a problem you had since you were a child. you always considered yourself to be empathetic towards others before you even knew what the word meant. if they were mean to you, they must have been having a bad day. if someone took your toys on the playground, they must have wanted it more. if you were pushed, they must be in a hurry. everyone in your life told you this was a strength to have. they presented your patience as if it was a holy virtue, and it was your duty to give it to everyone. your private christian school only further instilled this mindset. meeting everyone where they were often came at your expense, but you didn’t mind. school was an echo chamber of positivity and life was a bubble inside the padded walls of the church.

sungchan was your first introduction to the world outside. he was a new face at mass, round and young just like yours. you remember being confused at the way they scowled at him, how the elders pinched his sides and told him to pay attention to the preacher. he remained unbothered, always picking at the chipping paint on the pews or messing with the flimsy hand fans. you watched as they called sungchan a problem kid and a troublemaker. you think that the words they whispered about sungchan was the first time you were exposed to the harsh reality of people. you watched those words mold sungchan into the very thing they called him. whispers from the elders told you that he was out doing drugs, having sex with women, and hanging out with the wrong crowd. you remember your parents pulling you aside and telling you to not get involved with him, that he would only drag you down.

your empathetic heart couldn’t stop you from extending an olive branch to sungchan. you didn’t see him as the terrible person they claimed him to be. you saw him as a troubled boy with no guidance. he was still so young, the same age as you with baby fat present on his cheeks.

sungchan taught you that your forgiving heart was a character flaw. it was a problem you were developing, not being able to leave him alone. you were like his silent apostle, set on the mission of fixing his tumultuous relationship with the church. you would sit next to him during youth group and answer for him, singing extra loud during hymns incase he didn’t know the words. your voice had gone raw from talking to him constantly. you would talk to him for ages to only get a simple shrug or a one worded reply. it didn’t stop you, only further encouraged you to try and break down his walls.

you came to him in between mass and individual prayer when you saw him sneak out through a door in the kitchen. you found him outside leaning against the church, smoking right below the kitchen window. all someone had to do was look outside and they could see him.

“you know you’re smoking right in front of the window?” you ask him.

sungchan didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. your polite and slightly nagging voice seemed to follow him everywhere. but sungchan found himself looking to you often, loving the shocked look on your face when he’d shrug his shoulders and blow smoke clouds into the air.

“i don’t care.” sungchan says.

his tone had become flatter over the years, losing that playful lift he had when you first met him. his sentences had become deadpanned words and eyes became stone. it didn’t drive you away, it only did the opposite.

you come down the stairs, lifting your sunday dress as you did so. the flowy fabric grazed your ankles, and revealed your cute frilly socks. sungchan watched you let the dress come back down your legs, using the same hand to motion at his cigarette.

“can i try?” you ask.

sungchan has amusement on his lips as he raises his eyebrows at your question. he takes in another drag, turning his head away so he doesn’t blow smoke in your face.

“you smoke?” sungchan asks.

you shrug your shoulders, trying to copy the way sungchan did it. it feels awkward pretending not to care about anything and you’re sure sungchan can tell that your shoulders stayed up for just a moment too long.

“yeah. sometimes.” you lie.

you don’t know why you are lying to sungchan, or why the lie fell so easily from your lips. you were never the type to ever lie, telling the truth no matter what consequence fell upon you. sungchan looks towards the door to the kitchen. someone could come out at any moment and catch you.

sungchan was intrigued by you. he let his eyebrows fall back down his face and looked away from you to knock the ash from the end of his cigarette. he was intrigued how you continue to stay there while all of his attention went to the ash falling from his cigarette, something that came like second nature to him. sungchan let his eyes go to your clear jelly shoes, something he had only seen children wear. he couldn’t stop himself from letting out a little laugh seeing you nervously rock back on your heels while he basically ignored you.

once the ash had fallen to the ground sungchan walked over to you. he looked down with a smirk as he moved it to your lips. when you tried to grab it with your own hand sungchan raised it just out of your lips reach. you looked at him and he lightly shook his head.

“the smell will get on you, let me hold it.” sungchan said.

he watched you as you took your first drag from the cigarette. you almost went crosseyed to focus on the butt of the cigarette lighting up. it was fine only for a moment, before your lungs that were only used to pulling in air filled up with smog. your lungs started screaming at you and you could feel your throat burn, but sungchan looking at you expectantly egged you on.

“attagirl.” he said once he decided you were done.

he pulled the cigarette away from you and watched you intently.

you could only hold in the smoke for a second before you started coughing profusely. sungchan gently clapped his hand over your back, your face started to burn along with your throat and lungs, embarrassed at how you couldn’t stop coughing. the heat only intensified when you looked up at sungchan. being so close to sungchan made you realize how angelic he looked. he was like a cherub, with his soft cheeks and unblemished skin. you were wondering how anyone in the church could call someone so pretty such awful. he had a smile on his face while looking at you, biting his lip to not laugh in your face. he distracted you almost to the point your body forgot it had to cough, having to turn away from his face to cough into your fist. right before you could cough, you heard the screen door of the kitchen open.

“what are you two doing?” a woman said.

you recognized the woman from the congregation. she had a hand on her hip and the other clutching a purse just a little too big for her close to her chest. her dresses always matched her purse, and you always found your eyes ruefully drifting to the fraying garment of her apparel.

sungchan looked at you, like he was expecting you to lie to the woman. your heaves had turns into slightly labored breathing, clearing your throat to keep yourself from coughing. he saw your expression and decided to take matters into his own hands. he leaned against the wall of the church to hide his hand. he dropped his cigarette to the ground behind him, putting out the end with his heel. he cleared his throat and you cleared yours again. when sungchan straightened his back you did too.

“praying.” sungchan said sarcastically.

the lady rolled her eyes. you saw her sneak a pack of cigarettes back into her purse and she flicked her head towards the door.

“go back inside. they need help setting the table.” she said.

sungchan puts his hands in his pockets and starts heading towards the door. he is unfazed by the light scolding, something he has gotten used to over the years. you, however felt your heart drop at the thought of disappointing someone older than you. the shame is doubled when the older lady stops you before you go inside.

“you’re a good girl. you shouldn’t be hanging out with him. he’s a bad influence.” she said quietly.

you know sungchan could hear it, because his steps falter for a moment before he continues walking out of sight. you nod in haste, wanting the interaction to be over. the lady closes the door and you watch sungchan go past the kitchen. he continues to walk down the hallway of the church, far away from everyone else.

the lady’s warning set the dynamic for your relationship with sungchan. it didn’t stop you from seeing him, it could be argued it made you want to hang out with him more. you had become his goody-two-shoes sidekick, tagging along to his adventures and indulging yourself in his lifestyle.

you had your first drink with sungchan. you remember taking the shot, the clear liquid stinging the back of your throat and making your stomach warm. it had become more enticing to you than the blood of christ that touched your lips during communion. the cheers of your name from the unfamiliar faces around you tempted you to take another.

when your hand reached for the bottom sungchan places his hand over yours. you looked up to sungchan and found the same look on his face of when you took your first drag of the cigarette. you didn’t know a look could be so powerful, giving you the courage to do things you would’ve never done in a thousand years.

you watched sungchan’s friend get a tattoo the same day you got your first piercing in the bathroom. sungchan leaned over the sink to inspect your ear, marking the perfect place. you could feel his hot breath fan your neck as he prepped your ear for the puncture.

“you’re parents might be upset.” sungchan said.

he pulled away from your ear to look at you. he was giving you the chance to back out, to refuse the piercing. but it was that look he gave you that had you shrugging your shoulders—it was starting to come to you naturally.

“i don’t care.” you said.

the truth was you did care, but you cared more about the man dangerously close to you. your parents were the furthest thing from your mind as sungchan went back to looking at your ear, sticking a needle through your lobe. the sound you made caught both you and sungchan by surprise. you bit your lip when he did the other ear, not trying to make that sound in front of him again. your teeth nearly drew blood from your lip when sungchan moved backwards to inspect you, making sure the punctures were even.

when sungchan turned you around in the mirror he stood behind you as you checked out the new jewelry. you turned your head, trying to take it all in. you looked to your ears then sungchan, standing behind you with his hand on your shoulders.

“it’s pretty.” you said.

sungchan looked into the mirror to look into your eyes.

“yes. very pretty.” sungchan said.

just when you thought you had sungchan, he disappeared. it was like he was a ghost or a figment of your imagination. one day he was sitting next to you in the pews and the next day he wasn’t. he stopped coming to church, his parents stopped coming too. rumors spread that he had runaway after a particularly bad argument with his parents. the fact that his parents were too ashamed to come back made you assume they did something awful the church didn’t want to admit.

sungchan was even harder to get in contact with. each time you had hung out with him he came and found you. when you wanted to reach him, you realized you had no way to do so.

not being able to see him led to your imagination running wild. everyday you would go outside to the kitchen window where he would smoke, looking out into the forest that surrounded your church. your mind had helplessly come up with a scenario each time you’d walk down the steps. your mind conjured up the image of sungchan hiding in the trees, scared to be seen by anyone else but you. after seeing sungchan you’d stop in your tracks, so surprised to see him standing there. you had practiced your facial expressions, letting your eyebrows raise and your eyes get large. you saw yourself mindlessly walking over to him when he’d beckon to you. you imagined that he would bring you in for a kiss, a type of kiss that would make up for the months of all the yearning and pining.

then afterwards you imagined that sungchan would tell you how much he missed you, not being able to find god at the parties of the bottom of shot glasses. you’d then walk him back to the church and have the congregation apologize for pushing his soul to stray even further away from the path of god. you wondered about a christian wedding, going full traditional. having kids that were baptized for everyone to see. everything about you two would be by the holy book, except for sex. you don’t think you could wait that long.

your manifestation of sungchan coming to you didn’t come to fruition. you didn’t see sungchan until months later as you were leaving choir practice. the expression you had practiced didn’t pan out the way you wanted to. your binder fell from your hands, sheet music falling onto the rocky parking lot.

sungchan came over to help you quickly, catching papers before they could run away in the wind. you had bent down to take the music from him, but you were frozen, stuck in place looking at sungchan. he didn’t say a word to you until your papers were safely tucked away again in your binder, closing it and putting it back in your hands. he looked to you and you couldn’t believe your eyes. your feet were stuck to the ground keeping you both in the squat position.

“hi.” sungchan said quietly.

you nodded you head and cleared your throat. you hung onto your binder, the only thing keeping you present.

“where have you been?” your voice is barely above a whisper.

you had a white knuckle grip on your flimsy plastic binder. you don’t know why you were so nervous to ask sungchan a question. in his absence he had become someone you didn’t want to doubt, scared that he would leave you again.

sungchan’s face flashes for a moment before he stands up. he dusts himself off, metaphorically wiping your question off of him. he holds out his hand for you and you grab it, surprised at how clammy his hand is on yours.

once you’re up you still stare at him like he’s a ghost.

“can i take you somewhere?” sungchan asks.

it was dangerous to have sungchan in your life. you found yourself nodding quickly to every question he had, you think you would leave the church the same way he did if he held your hand while you walked out. seeing sungchan smile outside of the church made you wonder what life was like outside of it. maybe it was nice and you would be happier than you were here. so you nodded as he led you to the motorcycle that looked similar to his fathers.

he helped you to the back and took a helmet out of the side compartment. he coaxed your musical binder from your hands to put it in there, tightening the leather strap to keep it safe. you were nearly shaking with anxiety as sungchan put on his helmet too, throwing his leg over to straddle the seat.

the engine revved underneath you, and your hands that were previously gripping your binder were now clenched at your sides. you waited for sungchan to reach behind him and guide your hands to clasp around his waist.

“hold on tight.” sungchan said as he pushed away the kickstand.

your words were drowned out by the sound of the motorcycle leaving the parking lot. you held onto him, letting your head rest against his back as he hit the throttle. you thought that the road sungchan was taking you down at an unbelievable speed could be comparable to your life. the fear that came with your future turned to excitement when sungchan turned around and looked at you, asking if you were having fun. everything that was scary seemed fun when you had your arms around sungchan’s waist, even the idea of getting into an accident on the motorcycle turned into a thrill for you. it was the same thrill that sungchan always seemed to give you. it was one that only subsided when you used the same hand that signed the cross on yourself underneath the sheets. you pressed your hands flat against his stomach, feeling how solid he was through his shirt. sungchan’s back vibrated against your head from laughing.

sungchan didn’t move your hands until the motorcycle was parked. your eyes didn’t open until the engine stopped roaring and sungchan gently touched you to let you know you had both arrived. you don’t know how long your eyes were squeezed shut to get here. you opened your eyes to sungchan standing in front of you, helping you out of your helmet. this was somehow more intimate than having your arms wrapped around his waist as you two plummeted down the highway. you had to look away for your own good, focusing on the concert venue that had a steady stream of people going in. you saw people dressed like sungchan going in, various crowds of people were around the concert hall smoking while others tipped their heads back and wiped their noses.

“have you ever listened to music that wasn’t religious?” sungchan said.

he had leaned against his motorcycle as you took in the view around you. it felt like you were dropped in a different dimension or alternate reality from your own. you had no idea that people like this existed so close to your modest township. it was all so foreign to you that you couldn’t even find the words to describe the aesthetic. the words came and went, trying to define ripped skinny jeans and people cursing freely. what this had to do with music was beyond you, but before you could answer sungchan’s question you saw him turn his head towards someone in the moving mass of people.

“sungchan! you’re fucking late!”

you followed the voice until it landed on someone dressed similarly to sungchan. black leather jacket and ripped skinny jeans, with hair that was so black it shined underneath the street lamps. he looked younger than you and sungchan, he had an innocent look about him that betrayed the clothes he was sporting. the only thing you had in common with the person in front of you was the same beat up shoes you both everyday. you felt nervous and out of place, like you didn’t belong here.

“who is this?” the boy said.

he seemed to know you didn’t belong here either, his voice significantly lower than when he called to his friend. the boys gaze went back to sungchan after giving you a once over. you did the same, looking to sungchan like you didn’t know who you were.

“this is,” sungchan looked like he was contemplating for a moment. a hand that was supporting his body against his motorcycle pointed towards you. “my friend from church.” sungchan said.

anton’s eyes got big for a moment, head slightly tilting in confusion. it was almost like a lightbulb went off anton’s his head a second later. anton turned to you, his face suddenly neutral.

“oh. nice to meet you. i’m anton.”

he didn’t offer his hand out to you, they stayed stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. he nodded his head and you did your best to copy him. it felt just like when you started shrugging your shoulders to copy sungchan. anton took his phone from his back pocket and showed the time to sungchan. it was about to be your curfew.

“wonbin is about to be on soon.” anton said.

“let’s go then.” sungchan said.

sungchan pushed himself off his bike and started following the crowd heading towards the building. you followed behind the two men, not really having anywhere else to go. you couldn’t help but stare at every face you passed by, wondering where all these kids your age had come from.

the only indication that showed you were in your town still was that the building had the same look as everything else in your town. there was a certain archaic and abandoned look to the building on the exterior. the brick had cracks the painting was chipped, and vegetation grew along the edges. the closer you, sungchan, and anton got to the building you could make out the faded sign of what the building once was. it was a factory who knows how long ago, and judging by the size business was booming at one point. now it was honing beacon for all the rebels in your town, young adults that were the same age as you but looked wiser and seemed significantly more mature. you had always been proud of your innocence when it came to life, but your lack of experience weighed down on you heavy as you looked past the large doors into the unknown.

you saw two burly men guarding the entrance dressed in all black with shades on even though it was nighttime. both of their eyes immediately went to you, and you felt even more out of place than before. sungchan followed their eyes to see what they were looking at. he grabbed your hand and you grabbed it back, trying to seem as casual as possible. sungchan visibly straightened his shoulders a little more, his hand settling on something in his back pocket. you saw anton show his ID to the other bouncer while sungchan’s hand led you to the other one. the bouncer held out his hand but before he could ask for your ID, sungchan smiled big at him.

“she’s with me.” sungchan said cheerfully.

“still need to see ID.” he said.

you see sungchan pull whatever it was from his back pocket and hand it to the bouncer. it’s something small, but sungchan’s body blocks your line of sight to see exactly what it is. the bouncer gives you one last look and you can’t stop yourself from looking down at your feet. you’re sure it is painfully obvious you shouldn’t be here. the bouncer takes mercy on you for some reason and nods his head. sungchan pulls you by your hand to drag you inside. the bouncer only continues to look at you for a second before tending to the next person in line.

the inside of the venue was completely opposite of the outside. if the outside was worn down the interior looked like it was recently experienced a complete rebirth. the ground you thought would be cracked concrete was reworked hardwood. the mass of people coming in walked towards a medium sized stage, where a curtain was drawn hiding who was behind it. this was what you imagined to be a concert venue now, equipped with stands on both sides for extra people. you didn’t know something like this existed in your town. you stopped for a moment and anton looked back at you smiling.

“first time?” anton asked.

sungchan looked between you and anton with an apprehensive look. you almost felt like you shouldn’t talk to him before you nodded your head yes.

“this is like sunday mass but for a different type of congregation.” anton said.

you don’t know anton said it to poke fun at you, the smile on his lips fading when he looked at sungchan. but it made complete sense. everyone looked the same, dressed in attire for the occasion the same way you dressed every sunday morning. anton and sungchan bobbed and weaved through the crowd, sungchan leading you through the mass of people until you ended up on the side. anton said something to the security guard, leaning in close before turning around and pointing at you and sungchan. the security guard faltered for a moment before stepping back and pulling open the safety gate. the three of you walked through and made it on the other side of the curtain to a smaller room.

immediately when you walk in the something musty and pungent fills your nose. it’s strong and almost skunky. you look to anton and sungchan—they are unfazed. you don’t comment on the overwhelming smell, or the smoke that filled the small room.

you only remember being in the room for ten minutes before your perception of time changed. one moment you just suddenly felt yourself looking to the clock every ten minutes to see that only two had passed. you sat on the couch while sungchan navigated the whole room. they listened to every word and the way they followed him around made you think of disciples. it made you giggle, you smiling into your hand when sungchan came to you on the couch.

“what’s so funny?” sungchan asked.

he had a smile of his own now, and his eyes were low and bleary. when you forgot the answer you just kept smiling. sungchan smiled back at you. you were giggling while sungchan when sungchan told his friend to break a leg, and you were giggling when sungchan grabbed you hand and took you to the bathrooms. you laughed at how piss covered the floors and how there was no toilet paper or soap in the dispensers. you were nearly in tears when sungchan started stuffing pieces of toilet paper into your ears as makeshift ear plugs. he was laughing too, quelling your worries that the toilet paper would get stuck in your ears.

whatever you felt had died down by the time the show started, the loud music pulling you from your trance. the music thumped in your chest, you had to hold a hand to your heart to make sure it was still beating. sungchan seemed unbothered by being so close to the speakers though. he was cheering and singing along with his friend on stage. sungchan smiled more than you had ever seen him do so in church, and he knew all the words unlike the latin hymns he mouthed unsuccessfully during service.

everyone sang along to the lyrics except for you, bodies bumped into yours and everyone was pushing. if it wasn’t for sungchan behind you, you were sure you would’ve been swallowed up into the crowd. the music was nothing like what you were used to, but you tried to enjoy it anyway. it was different to see what rebels your age were doing while you were busy knowing nothing about life beyond your oratory.

the music blared from the stage, the bass made the floor underneath your feet shake. it went right through the soles of your shoes and travelled up from the balls of your feet. the bass went all the way to your head, shaking the individual hairs and rattling your skull. it was like all your senses were being taken away from you and replaced solely with the music that played onstage.

you could barely make out anything from the strobing lights, as fast as you were granted vision it was ripped away. the flashing lights contributed to the energy of the people surrounded you, like a ticking time bomb as gasoline filled all the way to the ceiling. everyone’s restless bodies started colliding when the music intensified. you don’t know if people started forgetting there were bodies around them as the music got louder and louder. it was the same way it was at sunday service. you saw people be overcome with emotion as they pushed to the music. they were swayed by the band on stage the same way your congregation was swayed by the priest. but just like there and just like now, the only thing that swayed you was sungchan. the only difference was that in church you could only dream about how close he was to you now. his hands rested on your hips as he guarded your body from the people moving around you. you felt his wet lips place a kiss to your neck, so soft and gentle unlike the harsh music that played onstage and the hectic crowd of people that surrounded you.

sungchan’s wet lips pressed to your skin. you could feel the heat coming off his body in waves, and you were sweating on your own. the air seemed to vibrate as sungchan worked his way up to your ear before kissing the shell and leaning further in. you could feel his chest come close to your back as he whispered in your ear.

“i missed you.” sungchan said against your neck.

you weren’t sure if you were supposed to hear what sungchan said to you. his voice had intent, but it was supposed to be drowned out by the riffing guitar onstage and the bass that vibrated the speakers next to you. but when sungchan spoke to you, it cut through all the noise. it made the pulsing bodies surrounding you disappear. suddenly it was just you and sungchan in the venue--maybe in the whole world.

you knew that whatever you said would be lost over the sound of the music. you just tilted your head until it rested on sungchan’s and nodded, to make sure he knew you felt the same way.

you knew sungchan understood when his hands on your hip dug into the your church dress. the fabric stood no chance against his grip, it was almost like there wwas nothing there at all as sungchan held you tight.

“i want you.” he said into your ear.

you smiled as you looked ahead to the stage. want was so juvenile to you. you learned about want and have felt want for so long that it came to you like breathing. the want you were taught about in church was subject to god’s will. what you felt for sungchan couldn’t be contingent on anyone, not even if they were all knowing.

what you needed couldn’t be defined as something so simple as want. it was defined as a burning desire and something you pretended wasn’t a necessity until now. the same way you taught sungchan about the bible you planned to teach him about something else. so while you were shoulder to shoulder with sweaty pushing strangers you turned around to face him. sungchan was still leaned over to kiss your neck when you put both hands to his face to pull him in. he kissed you with want but you kissed him back with necessity. it was carnal the way you took his bottom lip into your mouth and the way the bass in your moan rang in both of your mouths. you only took a hand away from sungchan’s face to push his hands lower on your body. he gripped your ass as you deepened the kiss. you kissed sungchan so eagerly that his face was being pushed back as he tried to reciprocate.

when the song ended you pulled away first. sungchan was in the same place you left him, with his eyes closed and head tilted. his lips were red and swollen. want couldn’t compare to what you felt. you could fill this warehouse to the ceiling with want. what you felt for the man before you was something that could only be expressed underneath the sanctified sheets of your bed.

“my parents are asleep around this time. they don’t get up till afternoon service.” you said.

you said it at normal volume, still thinking it was just you and sungchan. the lights around you barely illuminated your face as your faced sungchan. your voice was lost in the screaming crowd, and sungchan could hardly make out the words your lips mouthed. so he looked into your eyes, he let them guide his next actions as he nodded his head. sungchan looked down to see your hand and your gaze fix on the exit.

the show was over when sungchan grabbed your hand and led you to the exit. it was sungchan who was pushing concertgoers now, bumping into people without care if they were in the way. you trailed behind him, bumping into people as a result of it. you apologized to who you could, but someone giving you a hard look was the least of your worries. you would repent for being impatient later.

you and sungchan beat the crowd leaving the venue. he didn’t bother to look for his friend or to say goodbye. sungchan was only focused on making sure his spare motorcycle helmet was secure on your head before kicking his bike off the ground.

you held onto sungchan’s waist as you sped down the highway towards your home. you took the risk to let go of him when he hit the highway. he slowed down on the empty road to let you spread your arms out. you felt the wind around you, and you hoped it would carry away the smell of cigarettes and skunk that stuck to your clothes. sungchan still knew the way, and he knew to park his motorcycle on the side of the road instead of pulling up to the driveway.

you looked to sungchan one last time before opening the door to your home. he was on his own path that deviated from the church a long time ago. you weren’t sure what he was doing besides enjoying music and doing drugs, but it didn’t matter. him being outside of the church as you were leaving had to be something like divine intervention.

it was that intervention that led sungchan down your creaky hallway, sneaking past your parents that were sleeping on the couch. with a finger to your lips sungchan found himself following someone else’s orders for the first time in awhile, taking the same steps as you to be as quiet as possible.

sungchan walked down your hallway that was adorned with crosses and decorations of angels. he was sure he saw the statue of jesus on the top of a table, and a painting of his birth was stuck to the wall. sungchan let you pass by him so you could slowly open the door of your bedroom. he looked down the hallway to see the glow from the television casted on the wall. he heard the low sound of a late night televangelist before hearing your voice.

“sungchan.”

you called to him gently from the depth of your room. he couldn’t see from his spot in the shadow of your hallway, so his feet carried him until he was beside your doorframe.

sungchan saw you sitting on the center of your bed. you were still in your dress, but sungchan felt like you were laying yourself bare before him. he was frozen in place underneath the rosary that draped your doorframe. he was compelled to do the sign of the cross over his body, but nothing could make him move. it wasn’t until you beckoned to him that sungchan took a deep breath before taking a step into your room.

sungchan said nothing about the religious paraphernalia in your room. suddenly the crosses you had collected over the course of your life was humiliating as sungchan looked at every single one of them. you motioned for him to turn off the lights as he closed the door behind him, but the miniature figure of christ you had on your desk could still be seen in the dead of night. sungchan almost felt like something terrible would happen to him if he mentioned it, like getting struck by lightning or your parents suddenly coming into your room.

the only thing that kept sungchan calm was looking at you. you felt unrest seeing sungchan stand still in your doorway. he must’ve still feared something judging him by the way he looked at you. you patted the space on the bed beside you, adjusting yourself on your knees to seem as welcoming as possible.

sungchan sat on the bed next to you, his legs leaning over the side of the bed. he was ready to get up and leave at any moment. you’re body head to toe is tingling with excitement, and you want to remind sungchan about the want he told you about earlier. you turn your back to him and reveal the zipper down the back of your dress.

“can you help me?” you ask.

sungchan says nothing, but you can feel the pads of his fingers hold the fabric surrounding your zipper in place while he brings the other hand to the zipper itself. you can feel the pads of his fingers on the bare skin of your neck that the dress doesn’t cover. you shake as your hear the metal teeth open down your back, and the cold skin of your room touches your skin.

when the zipper is all the way down, sungchan brings his hand to your two shoulders. he slowly helps your arms out of the sleeves, and you let it fall off your body. you can hear him exhale and feel his breath fan the skin of your back. sungchan brings hesitant fingers to the clasp of your bra. you can hear him behind you shuffle to move his body further on the bed.

“can i?” sungchan whispers.

you swallow and nod your head.

“yes.” you say quietly.

sungchan misses the clasp on the first try, and it catches you off guard when your chest suddenly feels free after his second attempt. he helps you out of the bra the same way he did with your dress. you let it fall off your body, falling on top of the pile your dress made.

you stretch the curve or your back. sungchan only looks at your shoulder blades, too nervous to move any further. you lift the top of your dress from the bed and press it to your bare chest. you look behind your shoulder to look at sungchan. his eyes break from your shoulders to your eyes, and then to your lips. sungchan watches you as you move backwards onto the bed, giving him space to move in front of you.

the two of you sit in the silence of your room, looking to eachother. you can hear the sound of the wind blowing outside, and the sound of a loud commercial break on the television in the living room. you move underneath the loose fabric of your dress and bring your legs closer to your body. sungchan shifts too, and you can see his hand reach out before he brings it back to his body. he lets his finger press into the duvet on your bed as you clear your throat.

“do you still want me?” you ask.

sungchan nods his head and moves forward towards you. he still hesitates, not letting his hand that’s on your calf go up any higher.

“i want you so bad. you don’t understand.” sungchan said.

you hated that you understood what sungchan meant all too well. you could sit here and debate the logistics with him, how you could teach him what it feels like to truly yearn something like the way you yearned for him. you wanted to show sungchan about passion that went beyond want, and you longed to drive him so crazy that he would feel the same burning desire you felt when you didn’t see him for all that time. so you grab sungchan’s hand and guide it to the dress you had let go of. it rested on your body like covers, ready to be taken off if sungchan was willing. he looked to you and you nodded your head as he held your dress.

sungchan pulled the dress away from you slowly, revealing more and more of you to him. you gasped as you felt his eyes on you. by the time sungchan takes your dress fully off, you are only left in your cross pendant and underwear. sungchan is entranced, eyes dragging down your whole body. he lifts your legs to help pull the dress off all the way. sungchan gently drops your clothes over the edge of your bed. you point at sungchan’s shirt, and he takes off his shirt and pants too.

you are both left in your underwear underneath the plethora of crosses on your wall. the bible is next to your bed on the table with a rosary piled neatly on top. it’s ignored when you sit on your bed and spread your bent legs slightly. sungchans hand starts from your feet, tracing up your leg slowly until he reaches your knee. his fingers come down your leg as he slots his body in between them.

his fingers don’t stop until he thumbs the cross pendant on your necklace.

“sign of the cross.” sungchan says quietly.

you settle further into your bed, and spread your legs further.

“do you remember how to do it?” you ask

sungchan nods before bringing three fingers from his right hand to your bare body. he touched your forehead, then dragged his fingers down the valley of your chest to your solar plexus. sungchan touched both of your shoulders, using your collarbone as a guide. you let out a breath sigh of amen, but sungchan didn’t do the same. he brought his hand back to your stomach, going lower and lower on your body. he looked at you for permission, and you nodded and spread your legs further.

you felt the carnal desire that evolved from want fill your room to the brim as sungchan let his fingers go underneath the waistband of your panties. he teased you only for a second, the pads of his fingers bumping your clit before his fingers went further down your folds. you gasped when sungchan finally put his fingers inside of you. he kept his fingers still for a moment inside of you, waiting for you to adjust and move first. you wasted no time pulling your hips back to bring them forward again as you used sungchan’s fingers to pleasure yourself.

he brought his other hand to your lower stomach, feeling the supple skin of your stomach.

“i’m so bad for you, you know.” sungchan said.

his actions differed from his words. the way he had his fingers on you made you feel so good, and the high you felt from the drugs in your system and the rush from the night made you want to continue chasing that feeling. so you ignore sungchan’s indirect warnings and continued to push your hips to meet his fingers.

“i can save you.” you whimper quietly.

sungchan looked from your hips to your eyes. he looked deep into you but you didn’t shy away. you continued to push your hips to feel his fingers go inside of you deeper. you didn’t break eye contact until sungchan bent his fingers and hit a spot you didn’t know existed. you bit your lip and tilted your head back. your whole body leaned, forcing you to prop yourself up on your outstretched hands behind you.

sungchan moved from his spot on the bed to get closer you. he hovered over your body, his hand on top of yours as his other hand continued to pump in and out of your body. you looked up at sungchan, spreading your legs further as sungchan took over. he let you rest as he started doing all the work. he wanted it to be fast, seeing your chest jump as his finger started pistoning into you. you brought your hand that was free to hold sungchan’s bicep. he still held your gaze, nodding as you let quiet moans fall from your lips. your eyes closed in bliss—you couldn’t stop the words from falling out of your mouth.

“oh my god.” you sighed.

“i know.” sungchan whispered back.

sungchan kept going, even through the pain of you digging your nails into his skin. he kept going even when you fell to your back and closed your thighs around his hand. sungchan didn’t stop until you cried out his name from your pillow and slick want came from you. you clamped around his fingers and sungchan scissored them inside of you, trying to give you all you could take. he didn’t stop until your legs slid down your bed and you used a weak hand to pull his fingers out of you.

sungchan watched you bring your hand to your chest as you stared at the ceiling. sungchan laid on the bed next to you and placed a hand next to yours. he could feel your heart pounding in its cage. he brought a hand to his heart and he could feel it beat with the same urgency.

you let yourself relax next to sungchan. you let your hand go down his body. you do the same thing sungchan did to your body, your three fingers grazing across his body before going underneath the waistband of his boxers. you look up and kiss sungchan’s forehead as you wrap your hand around his length. it’s heavy and twitches in your hand as you slowly stroke him.

his usual demeanor crumbles almost instantly, he is the vulnerable one underneath your touch. he pushes his body further up until he is resting against the headboard of your bed and you follow him. you face sungchan as you continue pumping his length, and his hands dig into your sheets. you come closer to his lips to kiss him again, trying to swallow the tiny sighs he lets out. sungchan gives you the reins and you let desire take control of your actions. desire makes you pull down sungchan’s waistband and it makes you put your tongue into his mouth. sungchan pulls his underwear off the rest of the way and you take a peak at his length. in the darkness of your room the moonlight comes in perfectly, giving you just enough sight. you can see your hand glisten in the light as it goes up and down sungchan’s dick. it’s a soft wet sound, only magnified by the quiet of the night.

sungchan grips your hand and tightens it around his length. he starts lifting his hips to fuck himself up into your hand and you watch his body work to bring himself pleasure. you can see the sweat form on his taut skin, and his hair starts to stick to his forehead from the exertion. sungchan can barely bring himself to look at you as he chases his own pleasure. you force him to make eye contact when you move his bangs from his face and lift his gaze with fingers underneath his chin. the pace he set with his thrusts falter for a second when he looks into your eyes. you help him by bringing your hand down faster and tighten the grip of your hand. you can feel sungchan’s hand clasp around yours further, and how his thighs start to shake from the work of thrusting.

that’s what separates you and sungchan. his want drives him to hastily fuck your hand, trying to reach a high that only came to him hours ago. what you needed has had time to ferment. it started as want—you wanted sungchan to come to church. you wanted him to find his path. you wanted him to kiss you. but it had time to brew in your stomach over the time time you didn’t see him and when your mind was forced to fill in the gaps. it was like a wound, festering on your skin and reopened anytime sungchan came into your orbit. he knew nothing about yearning or craving something the way you did. but you kept pumping your hand for him, because you wanted to keep him coming back for more. you wanted to become a wound on his skin and burn the fleeting touches into his brain. you were going to become something sungchan longed for, and maybe over that time your own craving would subside. sungchan would need you and you would be able to use a word as weak as want to describe how you feel about him.

when sungchan’s hand go back into your panties, your hand faltered. you looked to sungchan bewildered, but he only looked back at you with blown out eyes. his eyes consumed you while his bitten lips drew you in again. maybe sungchan already felt the same as you, he was just better at hiding it. maybe the plan you had for sungchan would end up destroying the both of you. you didn’t care as you helplessly rutted into his fingers. if desire killed you before it subsided to want you would be okay with it. if you were to die at the hands of something that felt so good, you would welcome it with open arms.

you brought your mouth away from sungchan’s to go to his neck. you suck and bit at his skin, and he brought a hand to your back to bring you closer. you were kneeling beside his body, praying into the skin of sungchan’s neck as he whimpered next to you. in the comfort of your bed kneeling wasn’t painful. you wondered why you spent so much of your life kneeling for forgiveness on the rough ground of the outside world or the padded walls of your church. you wasted your time kneeling to anything but pleasure.

your revelation hits you the same time it hits sungchan. he thrusts into your hand once more before staying there. he whined quietly as his hand presses deeper into your back and inside of you. you can feel his dick twitch and warmth covers his hand and yours in spurts. you continue to pump his dick as he becomes a mess underneath you and you grind your hips on his hand so you can feel your own revelation again. your body turns to jello for the second time of the night as you lean your entire body weight against sungchan’s chest. you can’t stop letting your sounds increase in volume as you lean further into sungchan’s chest. you let your sounds out into his clammy skin as he continues to finger you. you have to take your hand from his dick and pull his hand out so you can calm down.

“i’m sorry.” sungchan says.

he wraps both arms around you and brings you weak body in for a hug. you only shake your head, trying to form a coherent thought.

”it’s okay.” you whine.

after you come back from heaven, you realize exhaustion is starting to weigh down on your body. you’ve had a busy day, the adrenaline high crashes down on you fast. you end up drifting to sleep still leaned against sungchan’s body, but he is left wide awake. he only says your name once, slightly shaking your body to see if you will come to. you don’t wake up, and sungchan uses what’s left of his energy to slide down from the headboard so you’re both laying on the bed. sungchan feels the mess he made over his hands and stomach. he believes that he doesn’t have a home here, or the right to lay in your bed. so he gently moves your sleeping body, pulling your hand wrapped around his waist and turning you so you lay on the pillow. your body instantly adapts, pulling in a blanket to hold it the same way you were holding him.

sungchan gets up from your bed and starts putting his clothes back on. it’s slow and hesitant—he does everything in his power to keep you asleep. sungchan starts walking towards your door with his jacket and belt in hand when he hears shuffling on your bed.

“do you need a place to sleep tonight?” you whisper sleepily.

sungchan froze before he could turn the handle. he looked back at you, seeing your state and he nodded solemnly. you thought even in the dark of night you could see his crestfallen face, or maybe it was waves that radiated off of him in droves. you thought for the night he wouldn’t be alone as you lifted up the corner of your sheets, showing an empty spot just for him. sungchan came from your doorway to your bed, setting his jacket on the back of your chair and taking off his jeans. in just his boxers and shirt he crawled underneath the covers. he held open his arms, showing he had a spot for you too. you nestled into him without hesitation, tucking your head underneath his chin.

“i would give you anything you need.” you whispered into sungchan’s chest.

his arms around your body wrapped around you more, pulling you closer. you had almost wished he had drifted off to sleep. you wanted to whisper into his chest that he could come to you like a stray cat, wounded and hungry and you’d take him in each time. you wanted to tell him that you didn’t care if you were too forgiving or too naive. you wanted to be there for him like a saint if it meant you could continue to receive his offerings. if you enabled him until there was nothing left you would savor each moment you had with him. if you ended up saving sungchan you would make a future with him.

sungchan knew that he wouldn’t be able to rid himself of you even if he tried. something about you entranced him and had him wanting to come back. maybe it was the way you prayed with the same hands you used to undress yourself backstage. he imagined nights in the near future of him sitting on the edge of your bed while you gave him a show. maybe it was a trauma response. sungchan knew that the life he was living would drain him emotionally and physically. if he were to appear on your doorstep in the dead of the night after a show or a bender he knew your forgiving heart would let him in. he knew you couldn’t bare to see someone else in pain, especially if it was him.

you both knew the dynamic you two were actively changing all night was going to become volatile later down the line. you would end up taking mercy on sungchan’s self-destructive lifestyle in exchange for the freedom he brought you, while sungchan would use you to recuperate before going out and destroying himself some more. you would try to change him under the guise of showing him “the light” and he would corrupt you under the guise of showing you life outside the church. who needed who more would only become blurred and several lines would be crossed. you both knew you were trapping yourselves in a vicious cycle, one that you would probably go through on your own to keep it a secret from the church and your family.

it didn’t matter when sungchan sighed contently and kissed your forehead. his lips were soft against your skin, it brought you the same comfort the church used to bring you. so you sighed from the comfort and settled further in your tomb, underneath the six layers of your clothes and blankets. your body was still cold, the only thing that brought warmth was sungchan’s body. it made you feel like you were alive, like you would be reborn when you emerged from the covers in the morning.

“you know i’ll be back.” sungchan said clearly.

when you woke up the next morning, sungchan had dug himself out from under the blankets. he had risen revived from your forgiveness while you were left alone in the grave.

#01zfan: sungchan #seriez: sacrilegious #sungchan smut #riize smut

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heliads · 1 year

Note

Hello <3 I was wondering if maybe you could write a charles leclerc fic?? Reader could be in charge of social media and fans start to realise that charles flirts with whoever is behind the camera? Sorry if its too vague, but I love your writing and had to send something in

i cheered audibly when i saw this, please let me write more f1 fics

masterlist

When you were just getting started with your career, someone once asked you if you’d ever consider running a social media campaign for something cute, like a zoo or rescue company. You answered them with a firm no; everyone knows animals never work on camera the way you want them to, and you didn’t want that sort of stress in your life.

You think the universe must be laughing at you, because funnily enough, what you’re doing right now is exactly like herding cats, but you don’t even get adorable animals for your troubles. No, the Formula One media circus is a nightmare, but it’s a well televised nightmare, and that means your job as head of social media for the Scuderia Ferrari F1 team entails a great deal more metaphorical manhandling of the drivers than you’d ever envisioned.

It’s not even metaphorical all the time, the manhandling. Sometimes it’s just you sending out a great deal of mass emails when someone says something they probably shouldn’t or the Ferrari TikTok page is going through a content drought, but sometimes it’s more. Sometimes it’s like today, when you’re forcing the two drivers to go through yet another competition so the YouTube channel can get another push of subscribers.

You’ve done a lot of careful research over the months that you’ve been here, all dedicated to finding out just what sells the best, so to speak. As of late, you’ve learned that the viewers at home really like competitions and challenge videos. Apparently seeing two men who are obviously great friends go head to head over something as pointless as music trivia or Ping Pong is the pinnacle of motorsport content.

It’s not like you’re complaining. More views means a better paycheck for you at the end of the year. The fans like what you’re producing, and Ferrari likes the fans. It all works out in the end, and who are you to deny the Tifosi their favorite entertainment?

Of course, if you were to actually tell the two red-suited drivers that you refer to them as content and entertainment in the private recesses of your own mind, they probably wouldn’t be too happy. That’s why you keep that to yourself. Besides, they’re your friends. Charles and Carlos may make a lot of problems in your life, but who doesn’t? You’re not exactly perfect either.

You don’t have to be perfect, though, you just have to come up with good ideas and let the boys be funny on their own. Charles said he liked that best about you, actually, that you let them do their own thing most of the time. The previous social media managers had tried to get them to fit this specific picture of what a Ferrari driver should be, but you never did that. You just wanted them to be them.

You’re perfectly willing to brush that off as a compliment to a coworker, though. In truth, you’re working constantly to paint these two in the best possible light. It gets stressful sometimes, constantly wracking your brain to make each video work, each post take off. You are affecting how millions of people see Charles and Carlos. Hell, you’re practically filtering their legacy all by yourself.

It’s not a task you take lightly, to say the least. Maybe that’s why Ferrari is content to keep you around. This is a job that you’d like to extend as long as you can. Just like Charles has worked with overly pushy social media handlers, you’ve worked with total diva clients. Neither of the Ferrari drivers are like that in the slightest, which you appreciate more than anything.

That isn’t to say that they only ever make your life easy. Right now, for instance, you’ve been begging them to focus for the better part of ten minutes. It’s like working with elementary schoolers. You put anything in front of them and they’re totally distracted before you’ve so much as told them what they’re supposed to be doing.

Today’s video of choice is a long-anticipated cooking video. Charles versus Carlos, the drivers have been given a mystery basket of ingredients à la Chopped. They’ll have half an hour to come up with a dish of choice, and if the time crunch weren’t enough to stress them out, you’ll be judging their culinary creations when time is called. It’s the perfect setup for a hit video, so if all goes well, you’ll see this on the trending page soon enough.

That is, if you manage to survive this encounter long enough to post the results. By the time you manage to wrangle the drivers’ attention back to you, Charles has attempted to learn the contents of the bag through interpretive dance and hand gestures with the cameramen and Carlos has accidentally turned his stove on thrice. The third time the fires clicked on, he almost set a napkin ablaze. Both drivers are red faced from trying not to break into mad laughter again.

You clap your hands once. “Alright, are we finally ready to get started?”

Carlos nudges Charles in the side. “Look, she’s disappointed in you already and she hasn’t even tasted your cooking. This means I am going to win by a lot.”

Charles scoffs, but you swear his barely suppressed smile drops in a second when Carlos mentions your disappointment. “Y/N would never be disappointed in me,” he protests, “I am her favorite, obviously.”

He turns to you, raising his hands in your direction as if asking you to prove his point. You shake your head. “I don’t have favorites, Charles. That would not promote a fun workplace environment.”

“Of course,” Charles nods sagely. “If you had a favorite, though, it would be me.”

Carlos snickers, and in an effort to keep their focus with you before you lose them again, you clear your throat and read out the rules of the cooking contest. The drivers say their dutiful bits about how they’re each going to win this by a landslide, and then time begins and they’re off to the culinary races.

The covers on the baskets go flying. Charles holds up each object in turn, announcing them in tones of increasing panic. “Butter. Flour. Eggs. Green olives? Three strawberries? A box of spaghetti? Pepperoni?”

“You forgot the chocolate and red onion,” Carlos points out helpfully.

Charles tosses his teammate a withering glare, then turns the full force of his vexation back to you. “Y/N, you are trying to kill me.”

“Charles,” you say, “we talked about that.”

Charles’ brow furrows as he tries to remember what you mean. It hits him as last and he groans, slapping a hand to his forehead in mock desolation. You’ve noticed that Charles has been mentioning you by name a lot in videos, leading to general confusion among fans. As you’ve reminded him many times before, you’re not supposed to be the focus, he is, so he needs to stop bringing you up all the time. Viewers don’t care about who’s filming the content, after all, just who’s in front of the camera. It’s a tip handed down directly from your boss to you.

Charles still grins at you even as he continues unpacking his ingredients. “I can’t help it, you know that. You’re too good, I want to mention you all the time.”

You scoff. “Good at what? Keeping you in line?”

“Everything,” he says, and raises his eyebrows suggestively.

You roll your eyes and tell him to focus, but even this instruction doesn’t last long. Barely five minutes later, Charles is bringing up the fact that he’s going to totally win this thing because cooking is, like, a love language, right? And he’s the best at love, he declares, winking conspicuously in your direction. Carlos launches an oven mitt at his head and mutters something that the microphones don’t pick up, something that conveniently has the same number of syllables as stop flirting.

Charles is steadily making jokes the entire duration of the video, actually, and usually you wouldn’t mind this but they’re all spoken with the intention of getting you to laugh. Not the camera, as he’s been told to do before. You.

You do your best to keep it off your mind. Both drivers have gotten better about opening up on camera since they started, and this is probably just Charles trying something new in an effort to improve his on-screen personality. After all, it can be hard to direct all your charisma towards a camera, why not aim all your smiles at the person filming instead?

The contest ends soon enough. You end up awarding Charles with the win, mainly due to the fact that Carlos’ hand accidentally slipped as he was attempting to strain his pasta and he ended up losing all of his spaghetti down the sink. His plate consisted of sauce and decorative strawberry slices, which, although tasty, did not contain several key ingredients and resulted in an automatic disqualification.

Despite the rather shaky grounds on which his cooking victory stands, from the way Charles is acting, you’d think he’d won the WDC. He’s beaming at you, talking about how he’d called this from the very start and was proud that you liked his stuff the best. He even offers to wash the dishes, which is very un-driverlike.

The video ends up a success by all accounts. Even days later, it’s still trending in Tifosi circles, and the view counts are way higher than expected. Curious as to why, you decide to do the unthinkable and check the comments section of the cooking video.

What you find is– unexpected, to say the least. Usually, comments on any post, whether it be Instagram, TikTok, or YouTube, will range from fans lamenting race outcomes to people mentioning their favorite driver to random spam accounts offering thousands of dollars to the lucky person to message them first.

On this video, though? Most all of the comments are about you. This makes no sense, because not only were you on camera for about one minute, you didn’t do anything other than give instructions and judge food. Antonio Giovinazzi did the same job on a video last year, and no one cared at all. Antonio’s actually well-known in the world of motorsports, so why is it that you, someone who largely operates behind the scenes, would be the cause of so much fuss?

Curious, you start scrolling in depth, but find yourself more confused with every reply you see.

He’s totally flirting with her, right?

Is anyone else seeing the fact that Charles is freaking out over trying to impress this girl?

His face when she declared him the winner… I can’t even with him!!

Charles trying to protect Y/N by refusing to let Carlos salvage his sink pasta– they’re dating, right???

You find yourself laughing over it. This can’t be real. Surely nobody in the world actually thinks that Charles Leclerc– F1 driver, Ferrari superhero, Il Predestinato and supporter of all Tifosi hopes and dreams, multi-millionaire– would ever have a crush on you. It’s absurd. It’s so absurd that you find yourself racing to the office of another one of your friends in social media to get her opinion on it.

Your friend looks up at you, startled, when you burst into her office. “Has someone died?”

“No,” you gasp out, “worse.”

Her eyebrows raise. “One of the drivers had a scandal? We can fix this. Get me B-roll of them volunteering or something. We can turn this around in no time.”

“No,” you say weakly, “the Internet thinks I’m dating Charles Leclerc.”

Your friend freezes in her seat, finger still hovering over the call icon on Fred Vasseur’s contact in her phone, then slowly sinks back again. “Well, yeah, I can see why.”

You gape at her. “What?”

Your friend spreads her hands. “He follows you around everywhere you go. He’s always asking about you, you know. I kind of thought you two had a thing as well, it’s not just the Tifosi.”

You break out into somewhat crazed laughter. “Charles? You think Charles likes me? No, that’s ridiculous.”

Your friend, however, looks less skeptical of this news. “Is it really? I mean, he spent the entirety of shooting just cracking stupid jokes so he could make you laugh. You should have seen the way he stared at you whenever you so much as smiled. Man was transfixed.”

You shoot her a disbelieving look. “No– transfixed? Are you kidding? He wasn’t transfixed. He wanted to win a contest because he’s a racing driver and they like to be the best at everything. I’ll tell you what it was, he was trying to win me over so I’d decide the competition in favor of his cooking.”

Your friend chuckles. “You really are oblivious, aren’t you?”

You take a careful seat opposite her desk. “You’d better explain to me what you mean by that right now, or I swear, I’ll make you brainstorm TikTok ideas for the next month.”

Your friend shudders. “Anything but that, please. Those trends are so bad. Anyway, look, Charles has been obsessed with you since, like, the day you joined. I remember introducing you that day, actually, he was practically stammering over his words. Imagine that, someone who’s always so controlled with what he says whenever he talks to the press, and he can’t even say his name properly because a pretty girl is smiling at him.”

This whole situation feels insane. “Maybe you’re remembering it wrong or something. He wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t like me like that.”

“Wouldn’t he?” Your friend asks slowly, and, well, it makes you think.

It makes you think about all of the videos you’ve shot with him, every discussion after a press conference. How taking candids for the Instagram of Charles always takes ten times longer than it should because he never looks at the camera, only at you. How you greeted him earlier this year at the first race of the season and he said what he missed most of all over winter break was you. How he wasn’t even kidding when he said it, just smiling, smiling like he’d never meant something more in his life.

“Oh my God,” you breathe, “Charles likes me.”

Your friend slaps her hand on the desk, startling you. “See? This is exactly what I’m talking about.”

“What do I do, then?” You ask.

Your friend looks like she’s about to scream. “You tell him how you feel, obviously!”

“I do?” You repeat haltingly.

“You do,” she says, “And he’s right across the hall now. Go talk.”

She all but pushes you out of her office, and then you’re alone in the corridor with Charles, who has just spotted you and is heading your way with the brightest grin you’ve ever seen.

“Y/N!” He says, clearly pleased, “It’s so good to see you. I didn’t think our paths would cross until the next race.”

“Yeah?” You eke out, “Me neither, actually. Strange how things happen like that.”

Strange like friends with overly aggressive relationship advice. You’re certain that if you turned around now, you’d see her peering through the window in her door like some kind of stalker.

Charles nods. “I’m glad to see you, though. Did you notice that the last video did really well? I think that means you have to come around more often. You know, it’s what the fans want.”

“Speaking of the fans,” you say, “I happened to read through the comments and a lot of them seemed to think that you were flirting with me.”

You swear you can see Charles’ confidence fall in a flash. “What?” He protests a little too quickly, “that’s crazy. That’s, uh, really crazy.”

You nod. “That’s what I thought, but, on the off chance that you were flirting, I wouldn’t mind it.”

A small spark of hope forms in his eyes. “You wouldn’t?”

“I wouldn’t,” you decide at last, “because I like you too. If you like me, that is, and it wasn’t too crazy of me to say that.”

He’s laughing now, and you– well, you really do like him, you do, and something about seeing the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkle up when he smiles makes you think at last about how long you have liked him, all the ways you realized you loved him but never admitted it to yourself.

“Alright,” he says, “Maybe it wasn’t too crazy after all.”

A pause, then: “This does mean that you’ll be coming around more often, right?”

You smile. “Yes, Charles, I think it does.”

f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc oneshot #f1 #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 oneshot #formula one #formula one imagines #formula one x reader #formula one oneshot #f1 charles #f1 charles imagines #f1 charles x reader #f1 charles oneshot

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rookthorne · 7 months

Text

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧𝐤

Fairy Tales and stories always had one ending, that the prince would find his princess and all would be well; a masterful, happily ever after. You had never believed that would be you, not in your wildest dreams. Until the day that two knights in inked armour walked through the door of your castle and made themselves at home in your heart.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𖠺 Tattoo Artist!CW!Bucky Barnes x Florist!F!Reader x Tattoo Artist!Nomad!Steve Rogers

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 𖠺 6.7k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𖠺 Fluff, light show of dom/sub

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 𖠺 I sincerely blame my hype squad for this, but a very special thank you to SC for her genius mind for helping me build this world, and to @sebstanwhore for putting up with my screaming about it constantly. 𖠺 This is officially my longest published fic as of September 2023!

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔 𖠺 So This Is Love by Ilene Woods, Mike Douglas 𖠺 I See The Light by Mandy Moore, Zachary Levi

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒂 𖠺 @smutconnoisseur

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 𖠺 @stuckybingo 𝗚𝟰 — Tattoo Shop AU (September Adoptable) — Masterlist 𖠺 @allcapsbingo 𝗕𝟰 — Old Married Couple — Masterlist 𖠺 @anyfandomfluffbingo 𝗕𝟭 — Florist AU — Masterlist 𖠺 @mcukinkbingo 𝗚𝟱 — Poly Relationship Negotiation — Masterlist

𝐆𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐧𝐤 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Sunlight streamed through the window as you stood behind the shop counter. It was a bright, clear day, and the possibilities that a new day could bring excited you.

The perfume of freshly bloomed buds and bouquets filled your senses, each petal of the flowers that surrounded you just as pretty as the last. Walking into the place you built from the ground up since botany had run in your blood for generations. The love for floristry, specifically, had been passed down from your mother, then her mother before her, and her mother before her.

As a child, with their guidance, you grew up with such kindness and compassion for all flora and fauna, and you were an avid daydreamer.

Your daydreams of fairy tales, of wonder and love through the petals and veins of the ages, was how you came to affectionately name your haven and shop Fantasy Floristry.

Lanterns softly lit the way between the rows of bouquets and arrangements in the shadier corners of your store, and the walls, which were devoid of shelves with bouquets, were covered with pencil drawings of fantasy creatures and characters from many Disney movies – all signed by a local artist. That of which, was you.

It was a slow morning, customers sparse and fairly few between. Which, in itself, was never unusual, and afforded you the opportunity to potter about. Each bud you passed had a loving caress and gentle touch before they were spritzed with a soft spray of water, and you hummed along to the music playing over the speakers, a classic, timeless Disney tune.

You smiled as you looked upon the shelves fit to burst with blooms – each bunch set to a theme of a movie. Red and yellow matched with a brown ribbon for Simba and his mane, black and white with a red ribbon for Patch and his collar, and your most popular theme, one for Rapunzel; purple and yellow, with a gold ribbon to tie it in.

The chime of the doorbell sounded at the front of the store, and you looked up just in time to see your best friend and employee walk in, steaming to-go cups in hand. “Late again,” you scolded, and she smiled sheepishly.

“I brought us coffees to make up for it, darling,” Wanda simpered, holding out one of the coffees and a small brown bag. “And I bought you a bagel. Don’t say I never do anything for you.”

You rolled your eyes and took the coffee. “Thanks, Wands.”

“I’ll be out back,” Wanda called as she strode to the cool room. “See you later!”

Things progressed as usual after that – customers came and went with bright smiles as they left with small or big bouquets.

You were behind the counter working away on the store’s social media when the bell chimed loudly, followed by two sets of heavy footfalls and low voices. “She’s off with Ma, you know that, punk,” one of them said, almost as though they were exasperated. “It’ll be nice for them to come back to something, don’t you think?”

“Alright, alright,” the other voice replied placatingly. The door closed behind the newcomers with another chime, and their boots thumped quietly over the tiled floor. “Which do you think- Oh, wow. They’re beautiful.”

You looked up from your phone just in time to see two men approaching, only they had stopped at the Rapunzel and Simba bouquets, the blond one of the two pointing at the purple roses and yellow lilies. His other hand… was holding the other’s – interlocked so their tattoos aligned, and a wedding band shone brightly on his ring finger.

They were beautiful – far more so than any bouquet you could imagine or conjure. The blond was broad and lithe, his long hair swept back and beard neatly trimmed. A black plaid shirt covered his frame, and the top two buttons were undone, revealing coloured ink creeping up his collarbones. A bright, intricate yellow sunflower was tattooed along the contours of his neck, from the back to the front of the pale skin.

It seemed to match the other man’s, who, in place of a sunflower, had a bunch of purple daisies arranged in a loosely assembled heart. His hair was dark and long, down to the top of his shoulders, and he was bigger, broader than the blond man, though they stood at the same height. His skin was covered in ink – visible under the rolled up sleeves and open collar of his navy henley.

“Oh, lord,” you whispered, blinking rapidly to try and discern if you were dreaming.

You were, in fact, not dreaming.

The dark-haired man looked up at the counter and sent you a charming grin, pointing at the flowers himself. “Did you do these?”

Don’t make a fool of yourself, you chastised silently. “Yeah, they–yeah, I did them,” you stammered in reply.

“They’re stunning,” the blond offered, awestruck. “You’ve done an amazing job, doll.”

The two men walked to the counter, hands still interlocked as they neared, and you gulped – they were married, keep it together.

“I’m Steve,” the blond said happily, holding his hand out to shake, which you accepted politely, with an added bonus of being able to look at his tattoos. “And this is my husband, Bucky.” He pointed at the dark-haired man who also offered his hand, only he brought it to his lips and kissed your knuckles – just like a prince would. Your stomach and heart swooped at the gesture when Steve continued, “We own the tattoo shop next door.”

“Oh!” you chirped, immediately cringing internally. You offered your name, then, “I’ve seen the art in the windows, and it’s all so beautiful. Have you been here long? I know I’ve only recently set up shop, but business has been so busy I haven’t had a chance to come and say hello.”

Bucky grinned. “Too long, we would say,” he chuckled and glanced at Steve. “We saw you set up shop back when you moved in, and I have to say, we were very intrigued.” Both men looked around your store before their focus was back on you. “It’s a beautiful set up, nice ‘n cosy.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, shy but proud.

Steve smirked and nodded to the display of Rapunzel flowers. “What would a professional recommend for two hovering mother hens–just to remind them that we love ‘em.”

“Oh, that is so sweet,” you rushed before you could clamp your jaw shut, and Bucky snorted. “What? What’s so wrong with that?”

“Nothing,” Bucky rushed, still grinning. “It’s just–if you met them, you wouldn’t be saying that.”

A loud smack sounded as Steve slapped Bucky’s shoulder and shoved him away. “Stop being such an ungrateful son, honey,” he teased as Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Anyway,” you said haltingly, making your way around the counter. More to yourself, you mumbled, “You can do this, it’s fine, they’re just handsome men, keep it together.”

Coming to a stop at the far corner, you stopped and watched both of them as they bickered, much like an old married couple, “You know Ma would like that more. She likes teddies and shit-” Bucky emphasised, but Steve raised a brow.

“You’re telling me that you want to shell out for a damn bear–well, aren’t you son of the year,” Steve teased, staring at the shelf full of small, soft stuffies. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.”

“Oh, now he agrees with me-” Bucky was cut off by Steve’s hand, who covered his mouth and held his thumb under his chin to keep his mouth shut. The display made your lips part in surprise, though it went unnoticed. Bucky’s brows furrowed, and it looked as though he was pouting. You made out a muffled but determined huff of, “Lemme go.”

“Do as you’re told then, boy,” Steve whispered harshly.

Internally, you were screaming at the show of intimacy – albeit restrained, and you couldn’t help the shiver that crawled up your spine at the sound of Steve’s command. You shook your head and cleared your throat to get their attention.

Both of their gazes snapped towards you as though they had forgotten where they were. “D-Do you still want–want help?” you stuttered.

“Yes, please, doll,” Steve said happily, and he wandered over. Bucky followed soon after and rested his chin on Steve’s shoulder, wrapping his arms from behind – the creak of leather made you look down to see Bucky on his toes to have the slight height advantage.

You realised a second too late that you were still staring at them because they chuckled and winked at you when you glanced back up at their faces.

A sudden shyness blanketed your mind at their undivided attention, but you pushed through the murky waters of confused intrigue and desire – the latter a shock to your system. “So, we have these, especially for motherly bouquets,” you explained, pointing at the purple, pink, and yellow hues of petals. “Otherwise…”

The tour of the shop was an eventful encounter. Both men were enraptured and entranced by the beauty of the flowers, and each compliment to any arrangement made your heart soar with pride. It was only when you made it back to the Disney themed arrangements did Steve’s eyes light up.

“Mom would love these,” he breathed, gently brushing the petals of a yellow lily before doing the same to a purple rose. “She loves this movie. It’s a job to convince her to watch anything else.”

You giggled and nodded in agreement. “I have to say it’s one of my favourites, too. So beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said suddenly, and you looked at him. He was already staring at you. “Really beautiful.”

The humming of Ilene Woods came over the speaker at that moment: “So this is love, so this is what makes life divine.” Steve nodded in agreement and looked at you with a fond smile.

It was surreal, and it was all you could do to hold in a squeak of shock. On autopilot, while you recovered from such an insinuation, you blurted quickly, “I saw the tattoos on your necks. What do they mean? They’re so beautiful, and I adore them.”

“Oh, these?” Bucky pointed at his and then Steve’s, the flower tattoos bright in the sunlight from the window. “My Ma loves purple daisies, loved ‘em since she was young. I always bring her some each time I visit, and since she and Steve’s Mom are best friends, it’s only natural that this punk has to get Sarah some of her own. Don’t want him lookin’ like the bad son, after all.”

Steve shoved Bucky off and sighed heavily. “Yeah, shut it, jerk.” He rubbed at the tattoo, smiling absently. “Mom loves sunflowers. Dad used to get her a bunch every Friday night.”

You smiled softly at his words, feeling the pain of them. “That’s beautiful, Steve.” Bucky’s hand found Steve’s, and you saw him squeeze once. “Would you like two Rapunzel bouquets, then? I can add a sunflower and a daisy to each at no charge–I want to make your mothers smile. They deserve it.”

“Sweetheart, we can’t ask you to do that,” Bucky interjected. Steve hummed an ascension as you grabbed a bouquet. “Seriously. Your arrangements are stunning. We can’t ask for anymore.”

“You’re not asking,” you whispered quietly, looking at the bouquet in your arms. The beat of your heart thundered as you wondered if what you were about to say would spook them off, but their presence had flourished something inside of you – a boisterous and courageous thing. “I am offering, and I want those who leave my shop to be happy, to smile. If I can do that for your mothers too? You bet I will.”

You turned your back and walked towards the counter, entirely missing the look Bucky and Steve shared – one of adoration and affection.

The bouquet sat proudly on the counter as you turned to grab the next one, when you gasped in shock. Bucky had grabbed the second one, while Steve had picked up one of the largest and most expensive arrangements.

“Oh, Steve! Bucky, wait, I-”

“Nope,” Bucky cut in, and he placed the Rapunzel bouquet down next to the other one. Then he turned to Steve to help him lift the bigger arrangement onto the counter. “How about this–would you make us something for our shop? We want something on the front desk. This big one,” he pointed to the elaborate piece, “is going in our home–away from Alpine.”

“Alpine?” you quizzed. Steve nodded, and Bucky pulled out his phone before turning the screen to you – a photo of a fluffy white cat with piercing blue eyes as his lock screen. “They are beautiful!”

“She’s an attention whore, but she’s our baby,” Bucky said fondly, a small smile on his lips. He looked up at you and that smile morphed into a grin. “Now, how ‘bout it, sweetheart?”

You blinked. “Sorry?”

“The arrangement for our shop, doll,” Steve answered, and you started – how had you forgotten that?

“Right!” you rushed, flustered. They watched you, but their gazes were gentle, almost coaxing. “Sure–I, uh, I can do that for sure. When do you need it by?” Your trusty paper pad and pen felt comforting in your hands, and you looked between them expectantly.

They shared a look, and then Steve spoke up, “Are you busy now, honey?”

Mentally, you catalogued the tasks for the day. There were no urgent appointments to meet nor any commissions, and Wanda was around… “No, I am–I am free, today, that is.” You cursed the softness of your voice. They’d see your shyness, your absurd ability to become flustered with the slightest push.

Bucky grinned and then winked. “Perfect, why don’t we take you to the shop? See how quick our clever girl can whip something up.”

By heaven and earth, how you were unprepared for such a statement. Your mouth opened and closed as the words settled in the cogs of your brain, jamming them with the assurance and praise.

“That’s a good idea, doll. You can get a sense for the colours and contrasts.” Steve turned to you more fully. “We can walk you back–do you have someone to watch the store…?”

“Yeah–I, there’s-” You squeaked, gesturing over your shoulder. “I’ll just- Um, go get her.”

The back cooler room couldn’t have been further away at that moment. You rushed towards it, arm outstretched when you heard Steve whisper behind you, “She’s so sweet, don’t you think?”

“She is,” Bucky agreed easily. The words made your heart thump, and you didn’t linger, pushing open the door to the blast of the cool back room air.

“There you are-” Wanda greeted, but she fell short.

You shut the door and rested against it, holding a hand over your hammering heart.

“What the–? Are you alright?” she hurriedly asked, her face pulled taut and brows furrowed. “You look like you’ve… Wait, are you-”

“I need you to watch the shop for me,” you barrelled, breathing deeply in an effort to calm your racing heart. “Please–just look.” The door creaked open to reveal a slither of the front counter where Bucky and Steve stood, conversing and looking around the store. “They want me to make a–a bouquet for their shop, the tattoo–?”

“Oh, babe,” Wanda whispered, pushing the door closed gently. There was an impish smile curling her lips. “Go on, I’ve got this. If you don’t come back tonight, I’ll close up.”

“What do you mean not come back–?” You stared at her, unable to comprehend her secret, double meaning.

“Don’t you worry, sweet summer child,” she said, winking. “I’ll see you later.”

Before you could protest or question why everyone kept winking at you, Wanda had undone the bow of your apron, whisked it off of your uniform, and forced you out the door ahead of her.

“There she is!” Bucky called, his signature grin curling his lips. “Are you set to go?”

Wanda stood beside you, her hand on your shoulder, and she surreptitiously pushed you closer to the counter. She had that same coy smirk on her lips. Both Bucky and Steve waved and greeted her. “Just take care of my girl–she’s going to make you the best arrangement,” Wanda said.

“We will,” Steve assured, and he pulled out his wallet. “I’ll pay for these now, ladies.”

After completing the transaction for the two bouquets and singular larger arrangement, Wanda’s hand found your back, and she forced you forward, closer to Bucky. “See you three later.”

Steve saluted and walked forward, and you followed, your footsteps quick compared to the heavy boot falls of your companions. As you walked behind Steve, Bucky pointed up to a canvas on the wall – a scene painted straight from the movie Tangled, the beautiful soft hues of yellow and gold of the lanterns in the sky. “Who did this?”

“A local artist,” you whispered, glancing between the canvas and Bucky. “She sells her work here–I wanted to help an old friend.”

Bucky stepped closer to the canvas, and by doing so, he stood right next to you. The smell of his cologne and close proximity made your heart skip a beat – even his voice sounded deeper this close. “Whoever she is, she’s very talented. Pass that on for us, yeah?”

“Okay,” you squeaked, and you cleared your throat. “Yeah, I- I will pass that on for you. She would appreciate it.”

“I would be tempted to hire her,” Steve said quietly, voice awestruck. “Her colour work and ability to capture the moment is beautiful. She has a gift.”

Do not faint, you repeated in a mantra.

“Alright, c’mon,” Bucky urged. “Let’s take our Petal to the shop, or we’ll never leave.”

“Petal?” you whispered, and Bucky rested his hand on your lower back, gently encouraging you forward.

“Yeah, that’s you,” he said softly. “Precious and pretty–jus’ like a petal of a flower.”

The outside air was a reprieve from the stifling tension of your shop, and Steve turned around and looked at you, then Bucky, and he slowed to walk beside you – opposite to Bucky. You were walking between them, and could not calm your heart’s thunderous beat.

It was a short walk, but nonetheless, it left an impression. People had hastened to move out of your way as you walked between the two men, both brooding and you had guessed intimidating – if the shocked and double-takes of all passers by were anything to go by.

A dark brick building came into view – black awnings and dark accents made it feel rustic, paired with the striking art on the windows of a star and a set of wings set just below the artistic calligraphy of Quartet’s Tattoo.

“Here we are,” Steve said, gesturing at the front door. “Come on in, Petal–Buck, babe, you picked a nice one. I love the way it sounds.”

“What?” you sputtered. “I-”

‘Yeah,” Bucky breathed, then slung an arm over your shoulder, pulling you close. His lips were suddenly on your temple, a soft kiss that left you reeling. “I agree.”

The door, artfully carved with more stars and in place of wings were skulls, opened with a creak to reveal a dark and moody waiting area. Wooden beams were visible over the ceiling where lights with black shades hung in increments, and designs were all over the walls, each as intricate as the last. Dark slats of wood lined the floor until they reached an open space towards the back of the shop where you guessed the booths were situated.

“Take a seat, sweetheart,” Bucky said, pointing to a black leather couch that seated three, a glass table in front of it. “Do you want a drink–?”

“Water, please,” you replied, sitting down. You suspected you’d need something stronger to dull the nerves, but you refrained from mentioning that aloud. “This is beautiful.”

Art was everywhere, in every nook and cranny. You could see four booths, and managed a peak at the names lining the walls – Steve, ‘Cap’; Bucky, ‘Sarge’; Nat, ‘Widow’; Sam, ‘Falcon’.

“Thanks, doll,” Steve said happily, and he took the seat opposite you. “It’s our pride and joy.”

Bucky appeared with a glass of water and sat on the other end of the couch, tucking his leg up so he could face you. It was silent for a moment as you took the space in. Choices flooded your mind the more you stared around – reds and burgundies to compliment the dark stained wood, but then, whites and yellows would contrast against the deep, rich hues of the mahogany.

You blinked and looked back at Bucky and Steve, only they were already watching you. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you breathed, smiling nervously as you placed the glass of water on a coaster on the table. “I- I was just looking so I could, um, get a feel for the arrangement for you.”

“Oh yeah? And what are you thinking?” Bucky asked, his tone teasing.

Frowning slightly, deep in thought, you looked around the shop once more before finally settling on the reception desk.

The wood was stained dark, like the rest of the shop, but the accents of lightened, bleached knots and ridges caught your attention. Whites and yellows would bring that to light, and then, a fiery arrangement for the glass coffee table… “Uh- Well, I have two ideas,” you began.

Both Bucky and Steve raised their brows, and placed their drinks on the table. Steve leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees and letting his hands fall between his thighs. Bucky, back still against the arm of the couch, leaned against it and put a heavily tattooed arm over the back of it.

“Let’s hear it then,” Bucky said, his grey eyes bright with curiosity. “What’s our clever girl imagined?”

“Let her talk, Buck,” Steve chastised.

You took a deep breath and fought against the urge to run and hide – it was strange to feel so safe and attended to by these two strangers, but they had done nothing to warrant suspicion, at least, not that you had thought.

“Well,” you began, fidgeting in your seat as you nodded to the reception desk. “I thought a lighter arrangement would work. See how the wood is stained dark, but there are lighter streaks and knots?” You pointed at the spots you could see from your vantage point. “Whites and yellows would soften the–I think saturation is the right word?”

There was an affirming hum from one of them, and you continued. “Then it would make the entry feel lighter, as the room feels broody–it isn’t a bad thing,” you rushed to assure, looking at the two men with wide eyes. “The space is beautiful, and I love it–just, some softness might brighten it a bit.”

“Huh, you’re right, doll,” Steve considered, his hand now rubbing his chin as he stared at the desk. “I think we’d do better–maybe attract more clients. What do you think, babe?”

“It would work well, yeah,” Bucky agreed.

He shifted closer, almost imperceptibly, but your keen, anxious senses saw it immediately. What frightened you more was the fact you were not scared of it. The thought of him being close made your body heat up from some depth that had been untouched. They were married, you intoned. They were married to one another, no less.

“What would be even better, though,” Bucky continued, his tone impish. “Is if you told us the second idea.”

“Oranges and reds–fiery colours to bring attention to the mahogany wood and dark stain,” you said in one breath. Nerves had started to make your stomach roil and flutter with butterflies. As you stared at your hands while breathing shallowly, a tattooed hand rested over your fingers, effectively stopping your bad habit of picking at the skin. “I-”

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” Bucky said quietly, squeezing your hands. “You’re alright. It’s cute that you're so shy, but trust us, you’re okay. If we are comin’ on too strong for you, we will stop.”

The world stopped. Time froze, your place in the expansive universe suddenly too much to comprehend. “Coming on too strong–?” you asked hoarsely, unable to take in the words. “Are you- You two are flirting with me?”

There was a chuckle from the seat across from you, and you looked at Steve sharply. A bright smile was on his face, one of which conveyed affection, not patronisation. “Yeah, we are, doll. Do you want us to stop?”

You blinked, looked at Bucky, then back to Steve. “But you’re married!”

“We are, happily so,” Bucky said, and he took his hand away. You suddenly missed the warmth of it. “And we know what we want. We were in your shop today for more than just flowers, sweetheart. I wasn’t lying when I said we’ve been curious–a pretty Petal like you, clever and downright beautiful, both generous and kind… Well, we were intrigued.”

The words flushed your system and left you hollow with shock, akin to an overwhelming giddiness. “I don’t understand,” you breathed, staring at Bucky. “You want- What do you want?”

“We want to take you on a date. If you are interested, and want to,” Bucky offered gently. “You can say no, and we won’t think any different of you, don’t you worry ‘bout that. Like hell would we skip on your skills as a florist, and we’d still be friends. If you wanted to be, of course.”

“A date?”

“A date,” Steve affirmed. “We know polyamorous relationships aren’t everyone’s cup of tea-”

Bucky snorted a laugh and shook his head. “You sound ridiculous saying that, Stevie.”

“Shut up, punk,” Steve sighed. Then he looked at you again. “As I was saying, yes, it’s not everyone’s favourite. We just- We became smitten with you, doll. So, if you would be interested, we’d like to take you on a date.”

“Oh.”

The world, still tilted on its axis, started spinning once more, taking your insides with it as it moved. You blinked rapidly, and your hands curled and relaxed on your knees.

Truly, the offer didn’t scare you, per se. It was the reality shaking thought that not one, but two men found you intriguing enough that they wanted to take you out on a date–a traditional date.

A truly old fashioned notion, you thought.

Their presence seemed to bring out your reckless, wild side, and you took a deep breath. They said they would still care for you as a friend, even if you said no, and it comforted your heart and screaming, anxious mind. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Bucky asked, brow raised. “Do you want some time-”

“I’ll go on a date with you two,” you interrupted before you could stop yourself. “I would love that.”

Bucky beamed at you while Steve rose from his seat to lean down and kiss the crown of your head. “Perfect, doll. Why don’t you do both of your ideas, and we can pick ‘em up when you’re done?”

Feeling emboldened, you grinned up at Steve and then at Bucky. “I will have them done in a few hours. Walk me back?”

“You heard the lady,” Bucky murmured, his eyes slightly wide at your eagerness. “Someone’s excited to get to work.”

“Well, you have me motivated,” you explained with a shrug and a shy smile. “I won’t let you two down.”

Steve shook his head and helped you up before leading you to the door. “You could never let us down, honey–remember that.”

The two of them walked you back to your shop, opening and holding the door for you. “Such gentlemen,” you teased quietly. They only winked.

“There you are,” Wanda called happily as she rounded the counter to greet you. “Have you organised a theme?”

“Two,” you supplied, chipper. Wanda’s brows raised at your enthusiasm. “I’m going to be doing a light arrangement and a fiery toned one, too. It’ll set the colours off nicely, I think.”

Wanda nodded and grabbed your hand. “You’re the expert,” she said, leading you towards the cooler room. “See you boys later!”

“No, wait,” you rushed, looking back at Steve and Bucky as you pulled away from Wanda’s grip. “Can–can I have your number? So I can text you when they’re done–?”

The smiles on their faces could have made the toughest rose bloom, you swore. Once their numbers were in your phone, they walked from the store, arrangements in hand for their mothers.

As you worked on the bouquets while Wanda minded the store, you thought long and hard about their proposition. They were grown men. It was not like you were dealing with the decisions and minds of growing boys – marriage was a big deal, and opening it to a stranger was even more risky. Did they truly want to risk all of what they had built?

Thoughts spiralled, and your mind whirled with all the possibilities – rational thought long cast out of the equation. Until, “You keep pulling a face like that, babe, and it’ll get stuck.”

You looked up to see Wanda standing in the doorway, hair tied up and a soft, kind smile on her face. Her eyes were bright, glinting in the way that told you she knew something was amiss. “What’s got you all tied up, love?”

The stem of the rose was smooth against your fingers, and you considered the thorns that adorned it – helpfully comparing it to your current predicament. “I just, I don’t know. It seems so sudden–doesn’t it? Them just waltzing in here–”

“Hold on.” Wanda glanced back to the store and then stepped into the room, her arms crossed over her chest. “You will not second guess this. I have seen those two make heart eyes at you for the longest time.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, astonished.

“I meant what I said,” Wanda said a little too easily, and she shrugged. “Have you not seen how those puppies look for you as they walk by the store window almost every single day?”

Your mouth parted in shock. Had they? “No…”

Wanda shook her head slowly, a slow smile pulling the corner of her lips up. It wasn’t a condescending expression, but rather, one of an older sister who cared beyond words for the one they loved. “Babe, you… You have to give this a shot. Give them a chance. I do not know them well, but I know they are kind, and gentle–gentle giants, if you will.”

A strong feeling of ease settled in your gut and over your mind, cancelling out the cacophony of nerves that screamed and pitched their fits. If Wanda, the one you trusted the most, could see something, maybe, just maybe, it would be worth it.

You looked at the bouquets before you, one of angelic and pure white to sunny, happy yellow; the other bright, cheerful orange and fiery, passionate red. It was symbolistic of the clash in your mind; resemblances to the possible opportunities. White for the softness of your soul, and reds to Bucky and Steve’s desire.

“Alright,” you said aloud, voice firm and unwavering. “I’ll do it. I- I want this.”

Wanda grinned, a blindingly prideful smile. “‘Atta girl. Now, get to it!”

A few hours later, as the sun had started to begin its descent, you stood in the back room of your shop filled with awe. The bouquets had turned out perfect – each petal and leaf in place. You snapped a few photos with your phone and then sent a text to Bucky’s number, asking if they would come around after they closed up.

Your ringtone made you jump in place, and Bucky’s name flashed across the screen.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Bucky greeted, the low hum of a tattoo machine in the background with the lull of quiet music. “Did you finish the flowers?”

“Yeah, I- I did, do you think you could–?”

There was a huff of breath, a chuckle, and then a sudden yell of “Babe!” before another voice came through the speaker.

“We’ll be round in about twenty minutes–that okay, doll?” Steve asked.

“That’s perfect,” you replied, looking at the clock. “I’ll be here–I’ll close up, so just knock when you get here.”

“Alright, see you soon.” The line clicked, and you put your phone back in your pocket.

Closing the shop went quickly, and after you had said goodnight to Wanda, you were on your own in the office, waiting as the minutes went by until you heard a knock on the store’s door. “Coming!”

Steve and Bucky were waiting on the sidewalk, huddled in coats as they watched you walk to the door. “Hey, come in, come in,” you rushed, stepping aside. “Thank you for coming and picking them up so late.”

“It’s nothin’, sweetheart,” Bucky yawned. “If we’re honest–we wanted to see you before we headed home.”

You smiled and looked at the floor, unable to look him in the eye after such sincerity. There was suddenly a hand gripping your chin gently, and you automatically moved in tandem with it until you were staring into Steve’s handsome face. “That we did.”

Blinking rapidly, you pulled back with a shaky laugh. “Did you guys have a good rest of your day?”

“Yeah,” Steve answered, looking around happily. “Normal shit with walk-ins and then we got started on a back piece. Poor bastard had to tap out.”

“We warned him.” Bucky shrugged. “Not like the poor fool didn’t know what he was gettin’ into. Anyway–how about those flowers?”

You led the two of them to the counter, where you heard two sharp intakes of breath as the arrangements came into view. They were extraordinary, and you had gone above and beyond for them – using flowers and buds that were yet to bloom to fill the spaces, each and every one placed with care and consideration. All of the colours complimented; a true masterpiece.

“Holy shit,” Steve gasped, and Bucky rushed forward to look at the bundles closer. “Petal– look at them!”

“You are amazing,” Bucky said quietly, his fingers brushing the petals of a white rose. “Absolutely fuckin’ amazing, look at this. You did this.”

“Oh, my gosh,” you whispered, hiding behind your hands. “It’s just two bouquets-”

Steve looked at you, aghast. “No.”

Both of them stepped towards you, and the next thing you knew, you were between them, squished to their chests and their arms around you. “Don’t you dare discount yourself, sweetheart,” Bucky murmured. “Be proud of yourself–it’s not a bad thing to be proud of what you create. And what you created is fuckin’ stunning.”

Many emotions swirled through your mind until you sniffled, pushing back against the burn of tears in your eyes. “O-Okay, thank you,” you whispered. Steve pulled away from the embrace to look at the flowers again, his face slack with awe, and Bucky held you tighter to his chest.

You felt a kiss at your temple suddenly. “Don’t you listen to those voices, alright? We’re louder and you’re gonna learn to love what you do, no matter what.” Unable to answer, you just nodded jerkily, wiping your eyes. Bucky’s thumb brushed your cheek, and he smiled softly as he pulled back.

“Why don’t we get dinner?” Steve asked suddenly, and you looked at him. “This isn’t our date, Petal, don’t you worry. Let’s just get dinner. How do you get home–drive, walk?”

“I walk-” You tried, but Steve shook his head.

“Not anymore, can’t have our Petal walking home on your own, okay?”

Ordinarily, you would have grimaced and grumbled at the commanding nature of such a statement, but somehow, this didn’t feel out of place. They cared, they just wanted you safe, you reasoned. “Okay, but Wanda normally walks with me, so–”

“That’s fine, we’ve got you both,” Bucky said simply, as though giving you both a lift was, in fact, not a big deal.

“If you’re sure,” you said quietly, and Bucky squeezed your shoulder.

“Let’s go, I’m starved,” Steve said loudly, almost obnoxiously. Bucky rolled his eyes and grumbled under his breath. “Don’t start with me, babe. You know how I get when I’m hungry.”

Bucky looked at you. “Yeah, he becomes more of a pain in my ass.”

“Literally,” Steve chortled, and you gasped in quiet shock as Bucky hit Steve on the shoulder.

“We are in polite company, you fucker!” Bucky shoved Steve, and the two of them bickered as they arranged the flowers in their arms to better carry them out of the store.

Finally, Bucky huffed and stuck his tongue out at Steve. “Let’s get these in the shop, then we can go to that diner.”

The three of you wandered out of your store, bouquets in hand, and Bucky took them into the shop. “How about here?” he wondered aloud, placing the red bouquet on the table, and adjusting it slightly.

You strode forward and adjusted it again, turning the vases and humming to yourself as you righted it. When you were satisfied, you stepped back and nodded. “How ‘bout that?”

Steve hummed approvingly as he placed the white arrangement on the reception desk – perfectly, you may add. Bucky looked between you and the flowers once, twice, then, “You’re decorating from now on, sweetheart.”

“If you say so.”

“We know so.” Steve’s hand was warm on your shoulder, and you briefly glanced down at the intricate designs that covered the back of his hand, the swirls stopping at the gold wedding and engagement bands. He flexed his hand and raised a brow. “What is it, doll?”

You considered your answer, and then ploughed on. “How long have you been married?”

“Feels like our whole lives at this point,” Bucky answered before Steve could open his mouth. “I’ve been with this punk since, what–college? Before that, even.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “We’ve been partners for a lifetime, and all those before-”

“Don’t go gettin’ all poetic on me, honey,” Bucky hushed, and he kissed Steve on the lips, then the cheek. “You said you were starved.”

“Can’t I be soft on my love?”

Bucky laughed and shook his head. “You’re a punk–c’mon, Petal, let’s go.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you along – it was hard to ignore how warm his hand was or how your hand fit so perfectly in his. “And, just so you know, we’ve been married for nearly a decade now.”

“Wow,” you breathed, impressed. Neither gave the impression of being much older than yourself, but you supposed they were youthful in attitude, and that was one thing they had in abundance.

“So, what about that old diner on the corner–?”

“Yes!” you cried, brightening at the mention of your favourite spot to eat. “I love it there.”

Steve came up behind you and took hold of your other hand. “Alright, that’s settled then–off we go.”

They led you to a sleek, luxurious looking car parked a few feet from Quartet’s Tattoo. Bucky opened the back door for you, and you slipped into the leather seats with an awestruck gasp. The interior was immaculate and, for lack of a better word, rich. “Whoa–”

“We figured rather than letting that money sit and collect dust, we thought we should spend some of it,” Steve explained as he turned the ignition, and all the screens along the dash lit up. “Bucky spent more on his bike.”

You quickly looked at Bucky, who grinned proudly. “You have a bike?”

“Sure do, sweetheart. I’ll take you out one day,” he promised with another wink.

Steve sighed. “That’s enough, you. Don’t want her passing out before dinner, at least.”

Bucky snorted a laugh, and Steve backed the car up before you were on your way to the diner. For dinner, with the two men that had asked you out on a date. The two married men. Wow, you thought to yourself.

There was a slither of hesitance, but it was nothing next to the bounding hope of your heartbeat. For too long had you been shy and hesitant to take life by the reins, to take control and make something for yourself – your shop being the only proof that you could indeed take risks.

That would end now, you intoned, promising yourself. Maybe this would be okay, maybe it would work.

You could only try.

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

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panstarry · 6 months

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‼️ DONATION SKETCH COMMISSIONS OPEN ‼️

hello! i'm xin and i'm opening comms to support organizations in palestine right now — i will draw for you if you dm me proof / receipt of your donation (minimum of $20) to any of the groups listed here:

FUNDRAISER FOR THE FAMILY OF WADEA AL-FAYOUME

MEDICAL AID FOR PALESTINIANS

PALESTINE CHILDREN'S RELIEF FUND

DOCTORS WITHOUT BORDERS

PALESTINIAN PRISONER SOLIDARITY NETWORK

ANERA

BUILD PALESTINE ORGANIZATION MASTERLIST

MIDDLE EAST CHILDREN'S ALLIANCE

BAITULMAAL

‼️ NOTES ‼️

i'm taking as many as i can until i burn out. turnaround of a few weeks; incredibly swamped w/ work rn so i may not get to all of them

if u cant give directly, dm me. u can send the money to me + ill donate it for you + send a sc as proof

here is one of many reading lists and further resources that you can check out. please also see PYM's reading list as well as decolonizepalestine's website.

@/palipunk also has a robust masterlist of resources and @/lesbolshevik has another list of organizations to check out.

you can vet any of the above charities and others using charitynavigator or charitywatch; feel free to add on.

if you are unable to donate, consider taking part in boycott/divest/sanctions or hopping in a protest near you. if you get into any legal trouble while there, reach out to palestine legal for help.

thank you for reading. stay safe, take care.

#pan doodles #donation commissions #boosts are appreciated!#i am super super busy right now and have crossposted this across 3 platforms so i'm not sure exactly how many i can take on #but i will do my best o7 there is also a prints for palestine fundraiser coming up so keep your eye out for that

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bloodyymaryyy · 6 days

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Gossip girl xoxo

F1 grid x driver reader

This is part 3

Part 1 / part 2 / masterlist

((Side note : I can't find the interview where Charles got in the way when an interviewer was interviewing lando on the pit lane so you have to use your imagination for that bit. Also those are not chronologically correct))

Request : no

Type : smau with texts, tweets and a plot in between those ( also I think the narrative is going to change a few times so beware to to get confused

After meeting up with your colleague / friends and whatever you were with them you had a lot to talk about because you went out with your friend group 2 and saw your friend group 3 and heard stuff that wasn't for your ears and an argument broke out saying stuff that they would regret after and naturally you had to tell your friend group 1 about it aka the grid.

It started with max when you found him entering the same time as you, it took you an hour to tell him everything, while you worked out both, next came lando and Oscar which you told them the half off it to save it for later because you had to go to a meeting with max and the time, after you found yuki and Pierre but you didn't name dropped most of it to save yourself from something that may came out to bite you because everyone knew that Pierre like you are big yappers but you knew when to stop talking about something that did not had to be said... Or at least outside because inside secrets spilled.

Then after a couple of hours before the race you went to your track walk and meet up with Charles and you spilled the tea with details and you accidentally went into the frame with Charles and almost immediately stopped talking and your facial expressions were everything like you were caught red-handed about something.

The interviewer quickly tried to include you both but you nudged Charles took his had and ran away.

Lewis knew about it right after you got home that day so he was unbothered driving his scooter behind you with one headphone on and sunglasses. Lando was left behind laughing but longing to know the rest when you could talk next.

( the second pic on the first tweet it this. Just pretend that y/n is like in the middle on the space )

Texts

Landinio

Y/n

Hello?

I know you are reading them anwser me

Yourusername added a new story after a while!

Liked by landonorris charlesleclerc lewishamilton and 2.986.832 others

Replies:

User1 replied to your story!

Wow mommy

User replied to your story!

Holy shit you hot asf

User 3 replied to your story!

One chance I am begging 🙏

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

Landonorris replied to your story!

Answer my texts!

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

Lewishamilton replied to your story!

Nice pic and car wanna go for a ride some time?

Yourusername : yeah sure tomorrow I am free all day so I can do that whenever you can! Just text me time, place and I will be there!

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

Texts

Landinio

Bitch answer me

The fuck?

I have tea!

You: oh do tell!

I was busy having a life

Sorry

Landinio

Okay whatever!

You know my friend Philip?

You:

Who?

Landinio : the one that is same height as me with the short hair and brown eyes that had a really annoying gf which is a nurse!

You : oh him yeah I remember! What happened?

Landinio :

Okay so he got into a car accident and he got to the hospital! And you know he wasn't exactly loyal... He got into an accident with his side chick and injured both but they are okay but! His girlfriend was examining the side chick and the girl was asking about Phil referring him as her bf and they were in those rooms where there are only curtains and he wasn't injured much and opened the curtains and saw his gf and his side chick speaking and the sc said : oh my god baby!? Are you okay?! And the gf was like... What are you talking about he is my boyfriend while looking between those two and long story short now he is without a gf and a side chick 👀🤭

You:

Holy

Shit!

You never fail to get me more juicy tea every day wow! I raised you well 🥺

Landinio:

oh shut up I shouldn't have even told you because you were ignoring me but anyway

You didn't raise me? What are you talking about we are the same age dumbass

You :

Whatever you say dude anyway gotta go I have something to do rn ttyl<3

Okay done! I hope you like it!

#x reader #f1 x reader #drive to survive x reader #marriswriting #max verstappen x reader #my writing #charles leclerc x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #max verstappen x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris #lewis hamilton #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc #fake texts #fake tweets #send help #bloodyymaryyy

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sunflower-lilac42 · 4 months

Text

✧ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞 | hey baby au ♔

summary: anna takes asher to the first game of the season

warnings: none, at least i think so

notes: part of the 'hey baby' series. welcome back everyone, sorry i haven't done this series, i didn't know what to write (please send asks and thoughts). hope you guys enjoy this and yeah. add yourself to the taglist ➵ taglist!

series masterlist | nhl masterlist | main masterlist

“Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!” Nico groaned from the extra weight on his bed and turned over.

“Asher.” Nico’s accent came through and the boy giggled, “Uncle Nico! It’s time to get up. It’s your first game today.”

“Yes, I know, meine liebe. But that means I need my sleep.”

“Uncle Nico what does ‘min- mina- lib-lirba’ mean.”

Nico sits up and scoots back so his back is flush agains the headboard and moves his nephew into his lap, “It’s meine liebe, schatz, and it means ‘my love’. And before you ask, schatz means hon.”

Asher nods excitedly, thoroughly entranced with his family’s native language. Nico continues to speak and tell Asher different German words when Anna knocks on his door, “Ash, what did I tell you last night about waking your uncle up?”

“Not to do it.”

“It’s alright, schatz. No biggie.”

“Mommy! Did you know that sc-schatz means ‘hon’?”

Anna shakes her head, “No, I did not know that, my love. Now how about we make some breakfast.”

Asher nodded his head once more and raced out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, “I’m sorry about him waking you up, Neeks. It’s been a long week.”

Nico gets up and throws one of his shirts on before going over to his sister, “I promise you, it’s okay. I can only imagine how draining it is, You’re doing great.” He kisses her on the forehead and she smiles walking away to make some food.

✧༺✎༻∞

Asher could not contain his excitement. Anna was lucky that she even got him to go down for a nap earlier right before the game. He made Anna get to the Prudential Center before the doors were even open, having Nico go and get them.

Asher excitedly clambered down from his mom’s grasp and went to grip his uncle’s outstretched hand. Anna followed behind the two, looking around at the arena along checking her phone whenever they stopped so Asher could ask questions. When the clubhouse came into view, Asher ran to the door and tried to open it, “Woah woah woah, there kumpel.”

“I wanna see everybody!” Asher bounced on his feet, extremely tempted to start running around the hallways.

“One moment, Ash.” Nico knocked on the door making sure it was decent before tkaing his nephew into the crowded room.

“Hi everyone!”

“Hi Asher.” Everyone let out their greetings and Asher went around saying hi to everyone.

“Hi Uncle Jesp. Hi Uncle Gravy. Hi Uncle Dougie. Hi Uncle Cloudy. Hi Uncle Jonas. Hi Uncle Tater Tot. Hi Uncle Dawson. Hi Uncle Bernier. Hi Jack! Mommy this is my new friend Jack!”

Anna looked up from her phone and in between her son and Jack, “I see honey. Go ahead and ask him, if you want.”

He nodded, “Jack, can you guess my five favorite things?” Asher loved to have people guess his favorite things. Nobody knew why he did, yet it was always funny how mad he got if someone got it wrong.

“I’m gonna say dinosaurs, airplanes, rainbows, and chicken nuggets.” Asher nodded his head as Jack spoke looking happy that he was gonna get them all right, “And the New York Rangers.”

Asher gasped in offense, “No! Why would I like the Rangers, Jack?” Jack shrugged, “I’m just joking, little man. You’re favorite team is obviously the Devils.”

He nodded in approval and walked back over to his mom, “Bye everyone. Good luck!”

Everyone waved at the little boy as he and Anna walked out of the locker room. She took him to their seats, right near the glass per his request. They waited until warmups, Asher making Anna take pictures of him and the rink with his jersey on as people piled into The Rock. The boy made friends with the poeple who sat around him, a nice young couple, a family with two kids, and a group teenage boys, who he was the biggest fan of.

The boys played rock, paper, scissors with him along with allowing him to play on their phones. When warmups started. Asher was standing and banging on the glass trying to get one of his uncles’ attention. When Ryan came over he started chanting, “Uncle Gravy! Uncle Gravy! Uncle Gravy!” IN reutnr, Ryan threw him a puck and he squealed.

The people beside them laughed at the boy’s antics, yet that wasn’t the last that they would hear from the boy. Whenever the Devils would score, he would chant their scorers name and then those who got the assist. Whenever the Blackhawks scored, he would boo saying something about how it wasn’t Bernier’s fault. And when the Devils got into the penalty box Asher would look towards his mom and “whisper”, “Mommy, Uncle …, did something bad.” When the Blackhawks got a penalty he screamed “Sentence to life” which Anna has no clue where he learned it from but had a sneaking suspicion.

When Jack got the OT winner Asher was beyond happy, screaming, “Jack! Jack! Jack! Jack! Jack!”

Anna took him to see the boys after the game and even allowed them to take the two out to dinner to celebrate the first game, and win, of the season.

✧༺✎༻∞

anna.hischier

liked by nicohischier, dougieham, taliaforester, and 4,673 others

anna.hischier Asher's (and the devils) first game of the season. congratulations on the win boys. Ashy even got a puck from Uncle Gravy

tagged nicohischier, dougieham, ryangraves27

view 62 comments

nicohischier I think he should come to all of our games

⤷ anna.hichier @/nicohischier haha you wish, neeks, not happening

⤷ ryangraves27 @/anna.hischier I agree with cap

dougieham Thanks for bringing him, Anns. I swear he's our good luck charm

⤷ anna.hischier @/dougieham I'm glad we got to come! We'll see you guys in a month!

taliaforester he's so adorable!!! Love his Hischier jersey

jackhughes followed you

𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

if your name is crossed out it means i couldn't tag you

#sunny lune writes #sunnyluneheybaby #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jh86 #nico hischier #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier x sister!reader #jack hughes x hischier!reader #hischier!reader #sister!reader #nj devils #devils #hockey #nhl

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fairykazu · 4 months

Text

NOT-SUPER-SECRET-CRUSH FT. SCARAMOUCHE contents: fem! reader, friends to lovers, requited love, highschool au, zhongli is ur dad, modern au masterlist | series masterlist | part two | part three

it was too early for this, the flickering fluorescent lighting overhead, snapping scaramouche's tired eyes awake. it was obvious he didn't get much sleep as his eyes were sunken in as much as he tried to hide it with concealer. putting his head down in his arms, yawning as ms. yae's aggravating voice rang in his ears. "scaramouche, lift your head up. you of all students need to pay attention." scaramouche took a deep breath as he rolled his eyes, what was the point of dissing him in the class when there's a student named itto who regularly skips this class? "scaramouche."

"ok." he lifted his head up, his hair disheveled. miss yae walked closer to the end of the classroom, her heels clicking with each step. "mr. raiden, don't make me call your mother."

scaramouche hissed back, "you would like that wouldn't you."

the silence filled the room as the pink haired teacher looked taken back. "just because of that, i'm calling her."

"whatever." after his last word, the class spilled back to normal as scaramouche felt as if he had to peel his eyelids back just to pay attention. but the noise was overwhelming as the lesson yae is making is coming out of one ear and out the other. trying to fight back the urge, he pinched himself but fell victim of falling asleep in the boring english class.

school wasn't the greatest for you because you're failing the two requirements to pass. math and science... screw the people who created this topic. if school was solely history and english, you would be flying out of the teyvat with rainbows, and you'd become the nyan cat or something.

when you arrived at your class, slightly late, miss guizhong greeted you with a smile, motioning you to come closer to her. she announced to the class to check their answers for homework as it was on the board. she turned to you, "name, you are not surviving this class."

"i know..."

"im not sure how you're not grasping this concept even if i had given you one of my best students to tutor you."

to be fair, haitham wasn't the greatest. he was the best student in your class, but he spent most of the tutoring with his not-boyfriend, bickering at any chance he could get.

"i know." it's really tiring to hear this even though you know you're failing, and you know you should get better by now. after all you are a junior now. but it's hard after years of getting used to being the bottom of the barrel. you tried to joke with yourself, 'at least, i have english and history!'

"if you know, scaramouche raiden, then you could ask him. he's one of the top students for these subjects." guizhong said, jotting down his name on a post it notes, giving you the yellow-colored paper.

oh wait, you forgot that scaramouche was a student that is soaring in the skies in this subject. maybe he'll help.

it was break and you spotted the familiar purple haired male from afar. you ran after him, attacking him from behind by pulling back on the lash tab. halting his way to his spot, scaramouche only turned his head to you. he was greeted by your smile, you tugged on the lash tab again, "hey, scara, can i ask you something?"

letting go of the back of the backpack when scaramouche turned fully to you, he rolled his eyes, as his friends walked ahead, assuming he'll catch up, "you did."

"haha, you're so funny." you glanced back at him, his face only told you to "get to the point."

"um, can you help me with ms guizhong's math class and miss nahida's bio class..."

scaramouche scoffed at the idea you just proposed, helping you? why would he even help you? you noticed how his face is not changing from his resting bitch face. you feared that you had to resort to older measures. "scaramouche, pleasseee! if you don't help me, my dad's going to kill me."

"how would mr. morax kill his favorite kid?" scaramouche raised a brow. "'cause, i'm literally failing like ... some of my classes... especially the class, my auntie is teaching...." you admitted, sheepishly. scaramouche's eyes widened, the daughter of one of the best teachers are failing. either you're really stupid or she sucks at his job. if he's being honest, it's probably the former. miss guizhong was great at her job.

seeing how scaramouche's porcelain poker face break, you took this as a chance to jab him where it hurts. you know that scaramouche isn't particularly good at the subject of english, especially when his teacher was literally his mom's girlfriend. "can you please help me with math and biology?" you began to whisper, "after that, i can help you with english homework from ms yae."

his face scrunched up as you could tell he was breaking resistence to your idea. itching the spot on his neck, he sighed, "fine. i will."

"alright! when do you want to meet up?"

"for?"

"the tutoring stuff."

"i did not agree to tutoring you."

"yes you did." you played a recording of scaramouche saying yes to the convo. just to annoy him, you started at the beginning and played his voice slower, a masculine voice going, "fine. i will." in reverb, basically catching the male red handed.

"you're insufferable."

"i know." you giggled as turning the opposite direction of scaramouche, not even looking back. unbeknownst to you, scaramouche was hiding a small smile.

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sweetestdesire · 8 months

Text

THE ICE BREAKER — P.4

WARNINGS: absolutely none. Just some pure, sweet content. 18+ readers only

PAIRING(S): NHL hockey player!Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: in which sometimes the greatest gift is a second chance.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I hope you angels enjoy part 4 for The Ice Breaker series! You can find the series masterlist here.

"Why do you want to watch the hockey game?" Lindsay asked as the two girls got their jackets and shoes on.

"I want to see Rafe play." It was the truth. In spite of how he'd made her feel the night before, Y/N wanted to know more about him.

"Is Maria going to come, too?"

Y/N glanced at her roommate with a frown.

"Why not? What happened? Why were you guys fighting last night?"

Y/N blew out a frustrated sigh and zipped her jacket up. After her disastrous evening with Rafe at the restaurant, she'd come back to the dorm and confronted Maria. It hadn't been pretty and she was still smarting over her supposed friend's betrayal of her confidence.

"Come on, Y/N. You can tell me anything.” Lindsay pleaded as they headed out of their shared room.

Y/N offered her friend a half smile. "I know. Maria and I... she just did something stupid and it hurt me."

"What did she do?"

Hesitantly, Y/N explained to Lindsay about what Rafe had said and his emphatic apology. She'd been hurt by his words and the fact that he'd even repeated them to her. Since his apology had been so sincere, she'd decided to give him another shot. She couldn't deny that she liked him and wanted to get to know him better.

Maria on the other hand, had no business saying anything about Y/N. She had unleashed all her anger and hurt at her friend after changing out of her date outfit. Maria had at first denied saying anything to Jordan, but Y/N had pressed on. Eventually, Maria had admitted that she'd said something, but it was supposedly because Jordan had been asking about Y/N.

"That shouldn't have made a difference!" Y/N had yelled at her. "You're supposed to be my friend."

"I am your friend!"

"Then why did you tell Jordan that I'm a slut?"

Maria had gaped at her before giving an indignant reply. "I didn't say that. I only told him that that wasn't your first one-night stand."

At which point, Y/N had thrown her hands in the air. "You may as well have. That's how he took it, anyway."

"That's not my fault if he did. It's not my fault he said anything to Rafe either."

"You shouldn't have said anything about me at all!" Y/N had exploded.

"What was I supposed to do?"

"Anything but talk about me, Maria."

Maria had stared at her with a wounded expression, as if she were the wronged person. Y/N had been so upset that she'd stalked away without another word.

Although she and Maria hadn't been the closest of friends, they'd known each other for long enough that Y/N would have thought she could trust Maria. What hurt the most was that Maria didn't think she'd done anything wrong. She hadn't even bothered to offer an apology.

"That's crazy, Y/N.” Lindsay said after Y/N finished recapping everything. They were outside, walking to a nearby bar to watch the hockey game. "I can't believe Maria would do something like that."

"Neither can I.” Y/N replied with a heavy sigh. "Whatever. When she's ready to apologize for what she did, I might listen."

"I hate to see you guys fighting."

"I don't like fighting either, but she was being stupid."

They fell silent for a block and then Lindsay shook her head. "What was she thinking? That spilling some gossip about you might get that Jordan guy to like her, or something?"

Y/N confessed that she hadn't given much thought to Maria’s side of the story. She'd just been furious with Maria for betraying her. Y/N had told Lindsay and Maria about her one-night stands and no one else. Now Y/N felt like she couldn't confide anything to Maria.

"Is this the place?" Lindsay asked as they crossed a busy intersection.

Y/N nodded and they went inside to find a place to sit. The bar wasn't busy, being a Sunday afternoon. There was a big screen TV on one wall and the two girls sat across from it just as the first period was starting.

Y/N’s knowledge of hockey was limited. She recalled the basics from her childhood of watching with her father, but most of the rules and nuances were lost on her. After their first round of drinks and some appetizers, Lindsay made an annoyed sound.

"I don't get it." She shoved a nacho heaped with salsa in her mouth.

Y/N laughed as she glanced at her friend. "I'm not up to speed on the rules either."

"Which one is Rafe?"

"He's the center for the Hurricanes."

"How much longer is this going to be?" Lindsay asked at the start of the third period.

"You're not having fun?" It had taken Y/N a little while to pick up some of the plays, but now that she was staring to remember different things, she was enjoying it.

Lindsay shrugged and turned her glass around in her hands. "I don't mind staying if you want to."

"It's alright.” Y/N said and downed the last of her drink. "We can go. I should get in some studying before classes start tomorrow."

Lindsay nodded and they waved the bartender over so they could pay their tab. They chatted as they walked back to the University and up to their room. Lindsay left right away again, going to the library for some research.

Y/N straightened out her desk and sat down to get some work done. She'd been at it for about half an hour when she realized she wasn't getting anything accomplished. So, she moved to her bed and made herself comfortable with a book.

Dinner time rolled around and she went down to the cafeteria with Lindsay. They ran into Maria who gave them the cold shoulder. Miffed, Lindsay told Y/N she was on her side, no doubt about it. Y/N merely smiled and shrugged. She didn't want Lindsay choosing sides, but if Maria was going to continue to be so immature, Y/N wasn't going to dissuade her.

While Y/N headed back to their room, Lindsay caught up with some of her other friends from one of her classes. As Y/N was settling on her bed again, her phone rang and her heart leapt in her chest.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Y/N." Rafe’s smooth voice came over the line and Y/N suppressed a shiver.

I guess I'm over what he said to me last night, she thought with an idiotic grin. "Hi, Rafe. How was your game?"

"Good. We won."

"That's great!"

Rafe chuckled. "It is great."

"Lindsay and I went to a bar down the block to watch."

"Did you?" He sounded surprised. "What did you think?"

"I was kind of disappointed that you weren't on screen more.” Y/N confessed.

Again, Rafe’s deep laugh filled her ear. Y/N reclined on her pillows and squeezed her eyes shut. She was so attracted to this man and knew she should still be at least a little upset over what he'd said last night. Somehow, she just wanted to see him again, preferably naked.

“If you'd wanted to watch the game, why didn't you tell me? I could’ve got tickets for you."

"Really? Oh, I couldn't ask you for tickets, Rafe."

"Why not? It's the least I could do."

Y/N didn't reply at first. She knew he was referring to last night, but she was reluctant to bring it up. She supposed that the mature thing to do would be to discuss it, not pretend it never happened.

"How about I get you tickets to the game on Tuesday night?"

"Tuesday?"

"Shit, you have school this week, right?"

"Yeah, but I don't have a class on Wednesday morning. I could go."

"Great! Check with your roommate and I'll get you two tickets."

"You'd do that?"

"Of course! I'd like to see you there."

"See me?" Y/N laughed. "Won't you be busy?"

"A little.” He agreed with a chuckle. "But I'll look for you during timeouts."

"Why?" She bit her lip as soon as the word slipped out and she wondered what he'd say.

"I want to see you again, Y/N."

She was unbelievably pleased that he'd confessed that to her. "There are easier ways of doing that."

"True, but I don't want to rush you."

"Rush me?"

"Yeah. After last night, I thought you might not want to see me for a few days."

"Me too, but I'd be alright with seeing you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? Really?"

"Sure. Are you busy?"

"Uh, won't you be? It'll be Monday."

"Well, if you can come to the University, or somewhere close by, we could meet for lunch or coffee or something."

"I can do that. My practice is in the morning."

"Great! I'd like to talk to you."

"Oh, yeah?" He gave a nervous laugh that Y/N found adorable.

Who was she kidding? Everything about him was adorable and impossibly sexy, from his hair to his wide, dimpled smile.

"Yeah. I think we need to talk about... about last night." Y/N started to sweat the second she said it, but she was proud of herself for being the one to bring it up.

"I think so, too."

"Okay."

They fell silent and Y/N stifled a giggle as she listened to Rafe sigh heavily on his end.

"So, I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Yes." She told him about a nearby cafe and they agreed on a time to meet.

"I'll have the tickets for you as well."

"Sounds great."

Y/N was still lying on her bed, her phone cradled against her chest and a dreamy smile on her face when Lindsay walked into their room.

"What's up with you?"

"Nothing.” Y/N replied without looking at her friend. She couldn't believe her mood had turned around so completely from last night. She'd gone from total embarrassment to excited giddiness in less than twenty-four hours. "Hey, you want to go to a hockey game on Tuesday night?"

Lindsay stopped and stared at her roommate. "Are you kidding?"

"Nope." Y/N sat up on her bed and tossed her phone on her nightstand. "Rafe said he can get me tickets."

"You talked to him? Oh, Y/N, that's great!"

Y/N grinned. It was fantastic.

Rafe told himself to concentrate on practice and not worry about his afternoon date with Y/N. Ever since he'd watched her walk away on Saturday, he hadn't been able to get her out of his mind. It was a lucky thing that his teammates had been so on the ball on Sunday afternoon, otherwise that game could have been a disaster for Rafe. He'd even had trouble lacing his damn skates.

"Cameron!"

Rafe looked up from his stretching to see Brent gliding across the ice towards him.

"What's up?"

"Have you talked to your lady friend lately?" Brent asked with a grin.

Rafe rolled his eyes. It had been almost a full day since someone had last teased him about Y/N. He knew Brent wasn't doing it to be mean. More than anything, the other man was curious and probably hoped that things would work out.

"I talked to her yesterday. We're meeting up later."

"That's good. You're not taking any more advice from Jordan, are you?"

After his terrible date with Y/N on Saturday, Rafe had confessed his gaffe to Brent the following day at practice. Brent had been good about it, not laughing outright. He had, however, berated Rafe for taking anything Jordan had to say seriously.

"I didn't get the chance to talk to her myself, but Y/N seemed nice.” Brent said. "Try not to be such a douche next time, alright?"

Rafe barked out a laugh and nodded. "I'll try."

Brent nodded and tapped his stick against Rafe’s pads. They skated around the ice together before gathering with the other players around the head coach to begin the day's practice.

Several hours later, Rafe climbed out of am Uber in front of the cafe where he was meeting Y/N. He thought that he'd be the first one there, but when he walked inside, he spotted Y/N at a table near the window. She looked up as he entered and a shy smile touched her lips.

"Hi, Y/N.” Rafe greeted as he approached the table.

"Hi."

Rafe pulled his jacket off and sat down across from her. Neither of them said anything after he'd ordered a coffee and he wondered if they'd ever get that closeness back. He wanted to redo Saturday night and this time, he'd be damn sure to keep his mouth shut.

"I have your tickets." Rafe broke the silence. He twisted to reach into his inside jacket pocket.

Y/N grinned as she accepted the tickets and Rafe’s chest swelled. My God, she's so beautiful, he thought and nervously clenched his fists in his lap.

"Thank you so much, Rafe. Lindsay said she'd come to the game with me. I'm so excited!"

"That's great. Maybe after the game I can take you and Lindsay out for a drink."

Her eyebrows lifted as she tucked the tickets into her purse. "Both of us?"

"She's your best friend. Why wouldn't I take you both?"

"That's so..." Y/N’s voice trailed off and she shook her head.

"So?" He prompted and then grinned. "Sexy?"

She laughed.

"Sweet? Generous?" He tried again and leaned forward as she let out more of her bright laughter. He could drink that sound in for days.

"All of those things." Her laughter faded and she smiled at him before leaning her elbows on the table. "We need to talk."

Rafe winced. "I know. I can't apologize enough for what happened on Saturday."

"Stop. You already said you're sorry. I didn't meet you today just to get you to say it again."

"No?"

She shook her head, never taking her eyes from his.

"Then why did you want to meet?" He paused and studied her face before giving her a brief wink. "You just wanted the tickets, didn't you?"

She laughed at him. "No! I wanted to see you, Rafe."

Rafe didn't know what to say to that.

"I'm not going to lie,"Y/N said as the waitress brought his coffee over. "It bothered me when you said... what you did on Saturday night."

"Y/N.”

"No, let me finish." She held up a hand to stop him. "It hurt, but I was more upset because my friend, Maria would say something like that about me." Y/N paused, her eyes looking back and forth between Rafe’s. "I'm not claiming to be innocent or anything like that, but I don't... I don't sleep around. I don't have sex with just any man who talks to me."

Rafe watched her as she spoke and followed the pink color as it rose in her cheeks. She kept looking into his face while she explained, impressing him with her courage. He wasn't sure if he could manage the same thing had their positions been reversed. God help him, all his blood was steadily being diverted south of his brain.

"I don't want you to think of me that way."

"I don't." He reached for one of her hands without thinking about it.

"That's good." She let out a nervous laugh and allowed him to close his hand around her fingers. "I'd hate for that to be your first impression of me."

"Do you want to know what my first impression was?" Rafe asked as he stroked his thumb across her soft knuckles.

"What?"

"I thought you were drawing on the table in that bar."

She burst out laughing and covered her face with her free hand. "How embarrassing.”

Laughing along with her, Rafe gently tugged her hand down from her face. "I thought it was intriguing. I wanted to talk to you."

"Well, you did. You did that, and more."

They fell silent as the memory of that night swept through both of them. Y/N was the first to drop her gaze, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. Rafe shifted in his seat, tightening his fingers around hers.

"I didn't want to talk to you just because you're beautiful, and you are, so beautiful."

Her lashes fluttered and she glanced up at him. Rafe dropped his chin and smiled on the same level as her gaze.

"I wanted to find out what you were doing alone at that table. I wanted to know your name and ask you out.”

"All before you even walked over?" She sounded incredulous.

"Yeah. Don't you believe me?"

She shrugged, meeting his eyes. "I guess I do. If you didn't, why would you have come over?"

"Right."

She studied him, as if trying to decide if he was telling the truth or not. Rafe held his breath for several heartbeats until her face relaxed into a smile again.

"So in between our first meeting and when you took me home, what made you change your mind?"

Rafe blinked, taken aback by her question. "I don't understand."

She flushed and her eyes skittered away. "I mean, you said you wanted to ask me out. What made you decide to take me home instead?"

Now it was Rafe who felt the warmth creeping over his face. He chuckled and squeezed her hand before answering. "I don't know, Y/N. I just... we were talking and I was having a good time. Then we were sitting together and I... I..."

He tried to think of the right words. Nothing other than 'I wanted inside you so badly I couldn't see straight' came to mind. Somehow, he didn't think that would impress her. Rafe looked into her eyes and grinned when he saw the sparkle there.

She giggled and covered her mouth with her free hand. "I think I understand."

"Do you?" Rafe was afraid he'd offended her again.

She nodded and squeezed his fingers in return. In response, all his blood fled his brain and gathered below his waist.

"I understand because it was the same for me, I think."

"Really? Thank God." Rafe’s reaction was immediate and he felt embarrassed until Y/N laughed again.

"Well, now that we've got that straightened out, there was something else I wanted to talk about.” Y/N said as she patted his hand.

"Something else?" Rafe took a swig of his coffee, wincing when it burned his tongue. "I'll talk about anything you want, Y/N."

"You're so accommodating." There was a twinkle in her eye as she spoke. "But I'm not sure if you'll like this."

Rafe lifted an eyebrow. "I'm sure I can handle it."

"I hope so." She paused and drew in a deep breath. "I want to date you, Rafe, and I want to start at the beginning. I want to forget about Saturday night and start over fresh."

When she stopped, Rafe studied her. He had a feeling he knew exactly what she was getting at and the tingling in his groin didn't like it.

“Okay.” He replied tentatively.

The blush was back in her cheeks and her eyelashes fluttered as she tried to hold his gaze. "I hope you don't think this sounds too immature of me, but I don't want to rush into anything."

"I don't want to make you rush."

"So, you don't mind if we... if we don't... that is, I really liked... what we did on Friday.” She stammered. "But I think we rushed into that. I... I'd like to get to know you better before we do that again."

Her meaning sank in and Rafe nodded. Inside, his mind and body were screaming, No, no! Don't make me wait! But he was a gentleman. He hadn't been raised to push a woman into something she didn't want. "Okay."

Y/N lifted an eyebrow at him and smirked. "Okay? Really?"

Rafe gave a wry laugh and shook his head. He felt he needed to be truly honest with her. "No, not really, but I like you, Y/N. I'm willing to do whatever you want if it means I get to spend more time with you."

"I think that's the sweetest thing any guy has ever said to me." She looked flustered and Rafe felt her try to tug her hand away from his.

"I'm already sorry for when I have to go on another road trip." He ought to bring it up, to remind both of them of his career obligations.

"Oh, yeah.” She agreed with a nod. "Well, we can talk on the phone and see each other whenever you’re in North Carolina."

"You've given this some thought." Rafe felt ridiculously flattered by that and it took some of the ache out of desiring her so much.

"Of course I have. I told you, I want to keep seeing you." For a long minute, they gazed into each other's eyes.

"So."

"So?" Her eyes were still twinkling at him and Rafe gave her hand another squeeze before releasing her.

"Can I take you for that drink on Tuesday night?"

"You still want to?"

"If you and your friend can stay up that late, I'd like to."

Y/N nodded in agreement. "I'll have my phone with me. Should we wait in our seats or meet somewhere?"

"I'll try to be quick after the game is over and I'll call you when I'm done. Then we can figure something out."

"Sounds great."

Another silence fell and the ache eased out of Rafe’s groin. It took some serious thinking to get his mind off of Y/N’s naked body, but he managed it. They fell into casual conversation for a short while before Y/N said she had to get back to class.

"Thanks for the tickets, Rafe.” She said as they walked outside the cafe.

"It's my pleasure." He turned to face her on the sidewalk. "So, with this starting over thing..."

"Yeah?"

"Can I still kiss you goodbye?" He shouldn't even be asking. His desire for her was so strong, especially since he'd already seen her rise and respond to his touch, if he kissed her now, it might be too much for him to deal with.

"Uh, sure." Y/N sounded unsure, but Rafe stepped close before she could change her mind.

He put one arm around her waist and drew her close, watching with satisfaction as her eyes widened a fraction as he lowered his head. Then, her lashes swept low and Rafe brushed her mouth with his lips. She sucked in a breath as he touched her and he felt the gasp from his head to the soles of his feet. He slid a hand up to cup the back of her head as he kissed her.

Y/N’s lips parted and he swept inside, tasting the coffee she'd just had along with her own sexy flavor. It was intoxicating and Rafe tensed, wanting to drag her up against a building and do more than just kiss her.

With great reluctance, he pulled away and smiled when she made a small sound of protest. Her eyes fluttered open and Rafe dropped a light kiss on the corner of her mouth before releasing her.

"I'll see you tomorrow?"

Y/N blinked, as if surprised to hear him speaking. She straightened her jacket and touched her hair, still snug in its ponytail. "Alright."

"Have a good afternoon." Rafe turned away before he was tempted to take her back into his arms.

"You, too.” She called after him and when Rafe glanced back, she was walking away.

Rafe blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. This was going to be harder than he thought.

TAGLIST: @lovedetlost @valeriiecameron @outerbankspov @ailee-celeste @adventuresinobx @pankowperfection @blueicequeen19 @maybankslover @penny4yourthoughts @variety-fangirl @fangirlwithlou @thecameronchronicles @lafantasiaworld @drewsuncrustables @dreamingwithrafe @obaex @mannstarkey @softcoremaybank @mvybanks @piceous21 @geniedetails @fandomxpreferences @allsmilesreally7 @angelofcigs @sickyrat

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seungiepop · 6 months

Text

𝑵𝒐 𝑵𝒖𝒕 𝑵𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓

Fornite 4L

pairing: enha x best friend reader

characters: all enha members, Shin Yuna (itzy), Choi Beomgyu (TXT), and Mark lee (NCT)

caution: sexual context (only implied on the legal line), cursing, the reader is an 03’ line with sunoo and yuna

genre: social media au and one shots

Masterlist | previous | next

ⓝⓝⓝ

(jakes pov)

Authors note- pls ignore the dates & times on the sc lol

taglist- @ilovecheese09 @namdeyuoi @moonshoon @xrr-s4sha @yannew @cup1dton @eternallyreid @heewonenthusiast @rikisly @parkhonnie @wvnkoi @slugism @yizhoutv @jakewife @bahngchatsfx @kangseulgithegreat @jinnisbaby @heeseungshim

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her-satanic-wiles · 7 months

Text

October 11th

Sensory Deprivation, Cirrus x Reader

Masterlist

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: Sensory deprivation; spanking; sapphicism; established relationship; soft dom!Cirrus; reader’s a little bratty shit; temperature play; nipple play; use of sex toys; praise kink; squirting;

Taglist: @sodoswitchimage @enchantedbunny @bitchywitchygardener @thew0man @sodomiser @the-did-i-ask @copias-sewer-rat @gehrmansbignaturals

🔞 MDNI 🔞

Cirrus made sure your hands were the first to go; lying you on your back and tying your wrists together and securing them to the metal headboard. She always made a habit of making sure they were tight enough that you couldn’t slip out of them, as more than a handful of times you’d done that and cackled about it to her face. You still think about the punishment she gave you afterward. You were so sensitive for a solid week.

Your eyes were the next to go; a soft, satin, black strip wrapped around your head blocking out any light remaining in the room. She loved toying with you, taking her time and making you squirm for her, fidget in anticipation of what she had planned. You trusted her wholeheartedly of course - you wouldn’t allow yourself to get put in this position without total trust of your safety and well being. But there was a thrill that came with this demon that kept you on your toes. You never knew what she was going to do next.

“Remember your safeword?” She asked.

“Teletubby.”

She smacked your thigh. “I’m going to fucking kill you.”

You tried to move away, your bratty giggles loudly bouncing off the walls of her bedroom. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You pleaded.

“What’s the safeword?”

“I won’t have to use it, so I don’t even know why we have one.”

She smacked your thigh again. “If you don’t tell me what it is right now we stop playing.” Her tone was serious, and serious Cirrus was an insanely hot Cirrus. It made heat pour into your core.

“Oranges.”

“Thank you. Little shit.”

You felt the bed release where she’d stood and your ears stopped picking up the sound of her footsteps where she’d clearly left the room, leaving you tied and vulnerable to her bed. Left secured and alone, you had never felt wetter in your life. You didn’t even hear her close the door - knowing Cirrus she did, she would never put you in that position unless you explicitly asked for it, but the thought that anyone could walk passed and see you stark naked and restrained like that had your hips bucking in search of releasing the tension that was building. You were so desperate to have something or someone touch you it was almost pathetic.

You didn’t even hear her return, but all you felt was something impossibly cold on your stomach. The feel of the intense temperature change had you gasping in shock, and your body moving to get away from it despite being tied to the bed. “C-cold!” You exclaimed.

“I should hope so,” she taunted, “it’s been in the freezer for a long time.”

The actually object itself felt heavy, even though her hand was holding most of the weight. The material was hard and unbending, and so, obnoxiously cold. She moved it from the middle of your stomach and traced it over one nipple, making you hiss at the feeling, before she moved it to the other. The two buds now stood erect and providing Cirrus more ground to play and tease you with.

Just as your nipples were beginning to get used to the sensation, she lifted the object and removed it completely. The sound of something heavy dropping into a full container confused you. That was until the cold sensation was back on your nipples, but this time softer and much wetter. Ice. She was now rubbing ice all over your body. You moaned at the feeling, your desperate and empty hole clenching around nothing as you wordlessly begged for more. But due to your combined heats and the temperature of the room, it wasn’t long before the ice died.

But that clearly wasn’t a problem for her as her cold hands moved to your clit and rubbed, the shocking temperature contrast having you screaming out once more. She circled your clit a few times, with a small amount of pressure, not enough to have you feeling good, but just enough to have you needing more. That was when she replaced her fingers with another ice cube, rubbing it all over your vulva to get you prepared and melt a bit, but then placing what was left of it directly on your swollen bundle of nerves.

“Oh, fuck!” You yelled in surprise, your hips bucking up sharply.

She simply chuckled in response, and you knew she was having the best time torturing you.

Once the ice had melted away she stopped all contact for a brief moment. You could hear the ice in the bucket moving and adjusting as she retrieved the item that she put inside of it. You felt it prod at your entrance and push inside slowly. There was little stretch and zero resistance, meaning that she was about to fuck you with your glass dildo that had been dunked in an ice bucket for you didn’t know how long. “Cirrus!” Her name came out of your mouth as a shocked gasp again more than a moan, but there was no denying just how incredible it felt. She sank the toy all the way inside you and bent down to give your lips a chaste kiss.

“How does it feel, baby girl?” She asked.

“S-so fucking c-cold!”

“Is it good?”

“Yes! Yes it feels good! Please move!”

“Aw,” you could hear her pouting, her tone became condescending, “only good? I guess you don’t like it then. I’ll stop.”

“No! Don’t stop! It feels incredible. I love it! Please!”

She laughed at you again. “Good girl.”

She moved the dildo and angled it perfectly, making sure it hit your g-spot every time. She’d learnt your body pretty quickly when you first became a thing, and did everything she could to have you seeing stars. The glass dildo was always a favourite of both of you. You because it felt incredible. The heaviness of it combined with the firmness and the ribbed shaft meant that every inch of your cunt felt some kind of pleasure. The weightiness provided the perfect pressure to ensure that you would always have a great time with it. She, on the other hand, much preferred using it to her fingers because you always squirted with it - without fail. And it was never a small trickle that would cascade out of you like a waterfall, no. It was cartoonish or pornographic. It was always like the tsunami gates opened when they weren’t meant to and the ocean would just come pouring out. If she didn’t see it herself, there’d be no way she’d believe any person could do such a thing. But you could, and she loved it.

She bent forward again, her hot breath enveloping your nipple and alternate between sucking and licking it. The stark contrast between the cold dildo currently ramming into your cunt vs. her hot breath put you in almost a state of delirium. As good as the dildo was, though, it wasn’t anywhere near close to tipping you over the edge.

“Cirrus!” You called.

“What, baby?” Her tone was always so patronising when she drove you insane like this, and it only heightened your arousal. It made you feel pathetic, desperate, needy. And you loved it.

“I need you.”

“You have me.”

“I need more.”

“More?” She continued to thrust the dildo inside of you, now hitting the tip of your cervix. The angle this time was downwards, knowing what you wanted from her. The base of the dildo, every time it reentered you, scraped barely against the bottom of your clit. It was driving you mad. “But I’m already giving you so much! Is my girl being greedy today?”

“Please, I want to cum so badly!”

“Is this not enough for you, baby? Hm? What else do you need? Tell me.”

“Y-your fingers, please!”

“So polite! Good girl. Where do you want them? Here?” She began to pinch and tweak the nipple she was just sucking on.

“No! My clit. Play with my clit.”

“Such a good girl for me.”

She obliged your request, shifting further down the bed so she had complete access to your core. Her thumb began rubbing your clit as her other hand continued to work the dildo inside of you. You could hear the sound of your own slick squelching as she fucked you over the sounds of your unashamed and wanton moans.

“Sathanas!” You screamed. “I’m gonna cum!”

“No, pretty girl. What do we say first?”

“Please let me cum!”

“Good girl. Cum for me.”

It seemed to happen all of a sudden. The knot in your stomach that was ever tightening snapped, and you came around the dildo. You felt yourself let go completely, hearing your own slick pouring out of you and Cirrus’ voice talking you through it. Always her good girl. Always so good for her.

Pulling the dildo out of you felt like torture because she dragged it so slowly. You felt so empty and sensitive, and you whimpered at the loss of contact. “Now, now,” she gently scolded you, “you can’t be the only one to have all the fun.”

She removed you from your restraints and gently rubbed at where they left marks. She slowly removed the blindfold and gave you time to adjust to the light of the room. She sat there on the bed, as naked as you. “Make me cum now, baby.”

Previous Day ⛧ Next Day

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dotster001 · 9 months

Note

Howdy!

So I recently came across your twisted earth au and im loving it so far! Now my request is, what if we, the reader, (y/n whatever you wanna name it) gets transported from our game into their world? I can just imagine y/n finding out about idia or ace’s body pillow of us and y/n not knowing to be either shocked, confused or both. I’d love to see your interpretations of this with the rest of the cast!

Have a nice day/night!

Twisted Earth Literary Universe

3k Masterlist

A/N: I tried to be realistic. Also, imagine that each of these scenarios is a separate universe, for realism sake 😂 let me know if you want a version of this where we find some of their fanfiction supply I've talked about Floyd shirt before. It's this with your face on it.

Ace and Deuce

"This is the ADeuce duo! They'll probably be in some of your classes, and both of them are super fans of you!"

Cater Diamond, who had the voice of a friend of yours (you were very confused by this place, and starting to get very scared) had found you when you woke up in a strange coffin. Now he was showing you around.

You noticed, on the wall, a poster with yourself and many of your friends on it.

"Oh! That's so cute!" You said, pointing. You missed them already.

"That's Deucey's," the red headed one of the duo said, wrapping his arms around the bluenette, whose face was turning a bright red.

"He also has-"

"-Ace don't!"

"A plushie that looks like you!"

Ace pulled a tiny plush off the desk, and showed it to you with a proud smirk.

"Oh. It's kinda cute," you felt your cheeks growing warm. Who knew you could look so adorable?

"Ace has a body pillow!" Deuce blurted, causing you to drop the plush in shock. Deuce winced at that.

"What the hell dude?" Ace hissed. "That's simply not true!"

Deuce dodged around Ace, diving under a bed and pulling out a life size body pillow of yourself.

Your jaw dropped. "Oh my God…"

"What! His was cute, but mine's not?" Ace pouted.

"His was cute. Your intentions are questionable," you muttered.

"You think his intentions are questionable now, you should see the back," Deuce smirked, but was quickly tackled by Ace.

Octotrio

Two very tall twins were showing you around your new living space. When you had indicated that you didn't even know where you were, and wanted to go home, a scary aura had filled the space, so you decided to keep your mouth shut, for now.

The sillier one, opened a door, singing out, "Azuuuuul~" as he walked into the room.

Oh my God.

What the hell?

The room was full of what looked like video game merchandise….except on closer inspection it was of yourself and your friends.

"Oh my God-" you whispered, mildly scared that you might have just been kidnapped by stalkers.

"Azul! We found something!"

"I'm at the printing press," a voice called back from the back of the room.

The calmer one took your arm, and escorted you to the back where a silver haired man was printing T-shirts….with your likeness on it.

You felt faint. You gripped your escort just a little harder.

The man looked up, his face turning a bright red.

"How-"

"Dunno! We just found them asleep in the mirror chamber! First come first serve, am I right?" The silly one said with a smile. "Ooh! I gotta get my shirt!"

"Floyd-" his twin warned, but it was too late, he'd already run off.

The silver haired man was still staring at you.

"I know what this looks like, but-"

"Ta da!" You turned, and looked at his shirt, and finally gave into your building terror and passed out.

Idia

You'd woken up to a robot boy smiling at you sweetly. He was saying something about how he brought you here, but you couldn't understand a word of it. And now he was showing you around your "new home". You figured, just smile and nod, then you could get out of here when the advanced robot boy wasn't looking.

He knocked on the door, and you heard a voice from within.

"Why are you knocking, Ortho?"

"Cause I brought a friend!"

You heard a crashing sound, a muttered, "no no no" and what sounded like hasty scampering.

"I'm coming in~!" Robot boy pushed open the door, and you were met with pitch black. Except for the glowing blue fire in the back corner.

"Big brother! This is not good for your eyes!" He flicked on the light, and the blue fire hissed in the corner. You could now see the blue fire was a guy, who was curled in on himself, peeking at you from over the top of his knees. His golden eyes filled with terror that only got worse as Ortho showed you around the room.

Then it caught your eye. The body pillow on the bed. The animated character on it kind of looked like you. Your eyes clicked from the pillow, to the guy, and back again, not failing to notice the widening of his eyes as he knew you knew. He pulled up his hood and buried himself in it.

"It's not what it looks like," he muttered. "I'm not a creep, I just wanted to cuddle."

Oh God….

You're pretty sure you were kidnapped.

Crewel

The man before you was a bit intimidating. But you definitely trusted him more than the guy with the crow mask, so you couldn't complain too much.

He was eyeing you, and making some sketches in a notebook. Not much of a conversationalist, unless you would try to stand up and stretch, then he would say, "sit, pup," in a booming voice that would startle you back to your seat.

After a while, he stood up and moved to the giant wardrobe behind him, flipping through outfits, before pulling one out.

"Is this something you would wear?"

You nodded. It really was! It looked more expensive than something you would wear, but if you had the funds, definitely!

He smiled softly, almost proudly, before handing it to you.

"Try this on please. Bathroom is over there." He pointed with his red stick, and you rushed over there.

Hopefully in the time all this was taking, the crow man would have found a way home. And maybe you could keep the outfit!

It was as you were undressing that you noticed the tag.

Twisted Earth

Y/N L/N Line

You froze. What? Why was you name on the tag? You knew from your short time here that there was magic, so that could be why a tag with your name was there. But how did he know where you were from?

"Hurry up, pup!" He called from the other room, and you quickly pushed the thoughts away, opting to try on the outfit as fast as possible.

Sam

You didn't know where you were. But there was a line outside this shack, so hopefully somebody could help you. You'd mostly just gotten a lot of stares so far.

When you got inside the building, you saw someone at the counter, and felt relief. A professional! Surely they would at least have a phone for you to call home with!

You stepped up to the counter, opened your mouth, and were cut off by,

"Hello, my little imp, how can I-" and then he froze, staring at you with wide eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me they were here?" He hissed over his shoulder.

"Who's they?" You asked, unsure why this man was mad at you already.

"No, no, not you, somebody else," he muttered, before taking what looked to be a calming breath. "How did you get here?"

"I don't know, that's why I came over here. Can I borrow your phone?"

He stared. Then slightly tilted his head. Then glared at someone. Then slowly nodded.

"Sure! Let me just run to the back and see if one of my workers has a cell phone available. Please help yourself to anything in the store while I'm gone."

He was gone in a flash, and you started to wander. It seemed like a convenience store, just with a couple weird things you'd never heard of, like dragon's years. Maybe it was a type of alcohol?

Then you found it. It was a small section of the store, but it has enough in it to recognize plushies, posters, and shirts with yourself and your friends on them.

A hand on your shoulder made you jump.

"You must be very confused, Y/N," the man from the counter whispered in your ear. He took a step back and extended a hand to you.

"Take my hand and I can explain everything."

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #3k followers #ace trapolla #deuce spade #twst sam #divus crewel #floyd leech #jade leech #azul ashengrotto #idia shroud

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all-alone-he-turns-to-stone · 2 years

Text

High Enough

Billy Butcher Masterlist

Summary: When Billy Butcher receives a flower, he doesn’t really understand why or what to do with it. Something seems off with the plant, but when Butcher understands, it’s too late. And there’s only one person he can call for help.

Pairing: Billy Butcher x F!Reader

Rating: 18+

Warning: Dubcon due to the sex pollen (even if everyone is okay with it, I'm still puting the warning), smut, p in v, unprotected sex, overstimulation, attempted murder, swearing, mention of past violent trauma, toxic plant, being high on a flower

Word Count: 2840

Square: sex pollen for @anyfandomdarkbingo

A/n: This fic was requested by @strife4life that requested Billy Butcher with the square sex pollen! Hope you like it!

Don’t forget to leave a feedback!

It was only a flower, for fuck sake.

Since when does people need to be warry of a fucking flower?

Of course, when that lovely lady gave him the flower, at first Butcher had been confused. Then, he tried to refuse the present, but the person was gone. What could the flower do? It was a sweet gesture, and no one ever gave him a flower before. It was pretty, delicate, and it smelled so good.

As Butcher walked back to the Boys’ headquarters, he brought the flower closer to his nose and smelled it tentatively.

It smelled like...

At first, the flower reminded him of Becca. When they were together, she kept talking about the garden she wanted where she would grow vegetables. Mostly to force him to eat them because only eating junk food and meat was bad somehow.

“Why not flowers, heh?” He had said then, trying to make her forget about the veggies’ diet. The smile that then stretched her lips meant two things. She knew he was trying to change the subject on purpose to avoid any green food. And growing flowers was already in her plans.

The flower reminded him of her, at first. But when he smelled it, it didn’t remind him of Becca.

It reminded him of Y/n.

Y/n that joined the Boys because of Frenchie. In one of his missions with Kimiko, they found her. Kneeling in the blood of the one that just got killed by the fucking supes, holding in her arms what was left of her husband. At first, Frenchie and Kimiko didn’t want to bring her to Butcher, telling her some shit about that life being even bloodier. That her anger would only turn her into a monster if she kept feeding it with the need of revenge. But she didn’t listen to them and joined the Boys.

Y/n was everything but Becca. So much anger and rage was boiling in her veins, her desire for revenge and payback probably as strong as Butcher. And it shouldn’t turn him on, to see someone filled with the anger caused by the loss of people she cared about. But there was something in that rage that felt just so… Familiar. Like someone finally understood all the mess he was feeling. Of course, the rest of the Boys also had their own tragic backstory and anger on their own.

But her… She was… She was just… Y/n.

The flower smelled just like her, and it should have ring a bell. Red flag. Alarm should have gone out in his head. But it smelled good, like she was standing right in front of him, and he felt at peace, so Butcher kept on smelling the flower until he was inside the headquarters. Even inside, he kept the flower in his hand. Even when he sat down on the couch, he continued scenting it, and the more he did, the closer he seemed to get to her.

The closer he seemed… To… His head was spinning, or maybe it was the surroundings. Not like Butcher was looking anywhere else than the flower, his gaze was focused on the plant. That, or he closed his eyes and pictured her, sitting on his lap, grinding his crotch and getting off on just that…

Butcher snapped his eyes open in a second of lucidity.

Something was wrong.

Detaching his eyes from the flower was so hard, like his eyes would pop out of his skull if he even tried, but he managed to look around. The place… was so blurry, like he was underwater. And when Butcher tried to stop breathing in the scent of the flower, he found himself unable to.

Glancing down, he avoided the sight of the plant to look at himself. Nausea filled his senses when he saw the ground move, just like he was on a boat and the ocean was filled with big waves moving him all around. He felt sick. Sick if he stopped looking at the flower. Sick just thinking about not breathing it.

Sick if he didn’t do something about the fucking boner he now had.

“What the fuck,” Butcher managed to say, slapping himself hard on the cheek. It seemed to help, so he did it again, and again, until he was awake enough to take his phone and dial her number.

“What do you want?”

Hearing her voice was the same as heroin. His body was possessed with a surge of energy, of high, and he groaned. Butcher just couldn’t help it, he felt so… So high… High with that fucking flower… Flower he was still holding and smelling like a fucking drug addict…

“Need… Help…”

It was the only thing he could say before the phone dropped to the floor.

“Butcher? Hey, Butcher! It’s better not be a fucking prank, or I swear to god-”

The moment you received the call, you knew something was wrong.

When Butcher stopped talking, stopped answering his calls, flashbacks of what happened to your husband came back like a punch in your guts. Red filled your sight, his blood painting the walls. The blood you were scared to see when you would find Butcher.

After tracking his phone, you found where Butcher was, so you left everything behind and rushed to him.

“Butcher?” You called again, walking in the huge place, trying to find the bearded man.

“Ugh…”

A groan alerted you, and immediately, you had your gun drawn out and were walking towards the noise. Another groan followed the first and then you finally found Butcher.

“The fuck happened?!” You rushed to the man laying on the floor, still making sure there was no one else in here. Perhaps some supes found the place and tried to kill him? “Butcher!” You put your hand on his shoulder to turn him towards you, but the moment you touched him, the world took a turn and you were on your back, pinned by a heavy, burning mass. “The fuck!” You yelled, tried to push him away, hell, fire your gun on him if you still had it in your hand, but you dropped it when he pinned you on the floor. “Fuck off!”

“Y/n…” Butcher sighed, and you stopped struggling. That wasn’t him. It couldn’t be him. He would never… “Help… Please… Flower…”

Butcher wasn’t making a fucking sense and you tried once again to push him away. Maybe it was a supe with the shapeshifting ability that took his place and now wanted to kill you. He would strangle you to death, or take his gun and put a bullet in your head and then-

Hands didn’t touch your throat, but something else did. As his beard brushed against the sensitive skin of your throat, you froze, feeling his nose and then breath on you. Harsh, hard and fast. Butcher was breathing so hard, it was like oxygen couldn’t enter his lungs properly.

If this was the shapeshifter technique to kill you, it was weird as shit.

“Let me go!” You struggled again, and by trying to avoid more touch of his body, you turned your head to the side. That was when you saw it.

Motionless on the floor, it had white petals and a very bright yellow center. And you just knew if you were an inch closer to the plant, its pollen would drive you crazy with the smell of someone you desired more than anything, slowly killing you unless you bang them. And the only reason you knew all that was because you worked on those. You basically created that shit.

Back when you were working for the enemy. Before the incident that had your husband killed, before you decided fuck Vought and that you would destroy that company and burn it to the ground.

“Please… Y/n…” Butcher sighed your name and snuggled his head into the crook of your neck to take a deep breath. Immediately, a shiver ran through his body and he moaned softly.

“Butcher,” you swallowed, knowing very well what would happen if he didn’t immediately get what he needed. And somehow, the person he desired was you. Luckily it wasn’t someone that was dead, then he would be fucked up. “It’s the flower. It has a pollen that boost your sex drive and kills you unless you fuck-”

“Fuck,” he repeated, his body growing heavier on yours. You couldn’t know for sure about his consent, not in the state he was in. At least, you had the confirmation Butcher wanted to bang you for some time now, or else, the flower wouldn’t be that effective.

This was your mess. You had to do something about it. It was to save him. It was to save him from something you created. You had to keep that in mind, he wanted you.

And fuck did you always wanted him too.

“I’m gonna help you, okay?” You put your hands on his shoulders, trying to make him step back, at least to go somewhere more comfortable. But the situation took a whole other turn as Butcher manhandled you to put you on your stomach. Now that he had your consent, he could do whatever he wanted and let go of his inner desires.

At least, it seemed he still had some of his consciousness.

On your stomach, you couldn’t see anything, but oh boy could you feel it.

The material of your jeans being ripped off of your body, like it was nothing as Butcher rushed to remove your pants.

His impatient and needy grunts, his breathing fast and uneven as he destroyed your clothes until he got access to what he needed. What he craved. What would save him.

By the time Butcher freed your cunt, you were also a dripping mess. Glancing at the flower, you made sure it was still far enough from you, one of the two had to keep their head clean until it was done.

The plant was still at the same spot. And you felt remotely in control of your body and mind.

Too focused on the cursed flower, you were surprised to feel something else than a cock on your intimacy. Rough hand pushed your cheeks apart and you gasped, feeling something wet and warm between your folds. Glancing back, you met black eyes filled with lust as Butcher was licking you up completely, moaning at the taste of your juice on his tongue. And fuck, was the sight beautiful, seeing how fast his beard started glistening with your juice and his spit…

As suddenly as he started, Butcher stopped. A simple, pathetic and needy moan slipped out of your mouth and you bit your lip, trying to at least some kind of dignity out of this.

But it was too late. Butcher heard you.

It was so fast, all you could do was fucking moan and try to remember how to breathe.

His length was already inside you completely, filling you up so much it knocked the air out of your lungs. God, you didn’t have the chance to see his cock, but just feeling how good it filled and stretched you… You knew it was big. Big and so hard and burning…

Butcher didn’t wait before he started moving, and you could understand why. You weren’t even affected by the flower and yet you felt the uncontrolable need to be fucked and to cum. Your body wanted his touch, your cunt wanted his cock. You couldn’t even imagine how bad it had to be for him.

“Fuck… Fuck…” You moaned, your nails scratching the floor every time he bottomed out. His pace was merciless, giving you no time to do anything but moan and try to breathe, and it felt so good, him fucking you into the ground, like you were just some cheap whore he would pay 40 bucks to have an hour with…

Just him using you with no other purpose than getting his release, being no one but a hole and a body to own and use.

It felt good. Because as he fucked you hard and fast, you didn’t think about all the things that made you hate yourself. You didn’t think about anything. Your mind was blank, empty, only your body mattered as Butcher fucked your brain stupid.

You lost count of how many times Butcher made you cum.

At first, he fucked you from behind on the floor.

Then, between two orgasms, you managed to climb on the couch, where he doggy style fucked you again.

The more you came, the more he seemed to regain control of his body, because next thing, you were riding him as he was now sitting on the couch and he was slapping your ass, groaning things about how much of a fucking slut you were.

Butcher seemed to have endless stamina. Or it was the flower. In any case, you completely didn’t fucking care. It felt so good, you were in sweats, even if you were now both completely naked. You didn’t even know when the clothes got lost, who removed what, or what got destroyed. All you knew and cared about was his cock buried inside of you, and how good it made you feel.

“Fuck, Y/n, wanted to fill your cunt since the first day…”

It was the first complete sentence he was saying.

“Wanted you to fuck me since the first time I saw you,” you answered, still jumping on his cock. You were slower, your body quickly losing its remaining amount of energy and strength.

“Still got some for a last one, luv?” Butcher groaned, his hand already between your legs, his fingers stroking your bundle of nerves at a quick pace. Breathing was already hard, but now, it stopped completely as your body got seized with overstimulation’s shivers, Butcher easily forcing another orgasm out of you. You cried out as it was almost painful by now, and finally, the roar reached your ears and you felt it.

His cock was so deep inside of you, you felt the ropes of cums shooting inside of your walls and filling your already full channel. Butcher seemed to cum for seconds and seconds, shaking under you, his arms circling your body and holding you impossibly closer.

Both of you were covered in sweat. Both of you were breathing hard. Both of you were exhausted and overstimulated.

You would have fallen asleep right there and then if it wasn’t for his hand roaming every single inch of your body, like finally, he was awake after a long, endless dream. Like he was discovering you, meeting you for the first time.

“What… Happened,” he said after a few attempts to find back his breath, and remorse started creeping all over you. Fuck. You abused him. Clearly. The flower was your fault, you tried to fix your mess, save him, but ultimately, you abused him- “What did I do to deserve you sitting on my cock, luv?”

“Don’t you…” You started, frowning at his comment. The biggest, most satisfied smirk you ever saw on his face was stretching his lips. “Remember?”

“I remember a flower alright,” he tilted his head to the side, his hands now resting on your waist. “Then, everything was… confused, and I felt high, so high, all I could think about was to sink my cock in your cunt,” he gestured to you, still on his cock.

You never felt more embarrassed in your life. Yeah, that was Butcher, straight to the point.

“Okay so,” You tried changing the subject, tell him what really happened. “The pollen in the flower drugged you and well, kinda my fault, it’s something I worked on back then…” You turned your head away, trying to find your inner strong imperturbable self, but it was too late.

“Figured,” Butcher muttered. “That shit is dangerous and strong as fuck…” He glanced at something behind you, and you didn’t need to turn your head to know it was the said flower. “I think someone tried to kill me by giving me this. Good thing you were there eh. Good thing you worked on it, so you knew how to save me.”

“Yeah,” you said, still feeling bad for what happened. Of course you saved him. But ultimately, it was still all your fault. You tried to get off his lap, but hands put you back where you were. That had the effect of a thrust and you couldn’t help but moan, feeling his cock push the cum out of your abused hole as it sank back in. “Fuck…” You closed your eyes, feeling him so deep inside.

“The pollen wore off,” Butcher muttered. “I’m alright. Now, how about we fuck for the good reason, eh? I wanna see your pretty face when I make you cum… Again.”

You tried to deny it. But fuck, you were still high from your previous orgasms, and your body reclaimed more.

The flower and the attempted murder could wait.

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