#YOU CAN'T GET BETTER IF YOU DON'T MAKE THINGS

[prael]

Day 2: Covered

IVE An Yujin x male reader smut

words: 6,374 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist

They said you could have been special; you would argue that you are.

Destined for greatness. A bright future. Whichever other way they wanted to express it.

The thing is, not everyone is cut out for the centre stage, and that's okay. You still get to do what you love, surrounded by people who share the same passion and work just as hard. Sometimes in life, you are the backup dancer in someone else's story. Sometimes, you literally are the backup dancer.

Yujin however, Yujin is the star. The one the world adores. The one that everyone around her seems to orbit.

You're just another face in her gravitational pull. You're on the stages and you're in the videos but no one remembers your name. There's probably an edit on Weverse somewhere with a sticker on your face. It's fine though. You've long made your peace with it.

You refuse to let that take away from the fact you spend so much time with An fucking Yujin. You've seen her in every single state, every emotion. She likes her 5 am coffee black and her mid-day one with ice. Yujin loves it when you massage her shoulders after practice and hates it when you play the same song twice in a row. However, the thing she loves above all else (and this can never go public) is having you on your knees—serving her like the queen you know her to be.

That's her secret. It's one you bear—one you're fine with keeping.

The final shoot is tomorrow, and today's practice is over but you know better than to follow everyone else out of the studio. You wait and you linger, and when the room clears out and you're sure everyone has left, you kneel and you wait. Sure enough, she notices and a smile creeps onto her face.

You don't bother to look up. Instead, you stay kneeling, waiting, knowing she's going to make her way over to you.

She does.

You hear her soft footsteps approaching and see the shadow fall over you as she stands there, looking down at you. You look up, slowly, eyes trailing up the length of her legs, over the expanse of her bare thighs and then just as you reach her hips, her fingers slip into your hair. She tightens her grip and yanks your head back so she can stare directly into your eyes.

"Did I say you could look at my legs?"

You gulp, feeling the tug on your hair and the way it makes your scalp burn. Your throat is dry, mouth parted and eyes wide. "No," you respond.

"Then what are you looking at?"

"I'm sorry," you quickly apologise, your hands clenching into fists and relaxing again as she tugs harder, her grip unrelenting.

"Sorry isn't good enough," she scoffs. "Why do I always have to teach you a lesson?"

You open your mouth to speak but the words die in your throat when she shoves you to the ground and kicks her leg out, planting her foot on your chest.

"Take off my shoes, don't talk."

You rush to comply, untying the laces of her sneaker before slipping it off. Yujin switches foot and you obediently repeat the action, putting the shoe beside the first one. You know that you can't allow your eyes to linger, but her bare legs are right over you and it takes all your self-control to look away.

"Socks," Yujin mutters.

You take a deep breath, knowing exactly what she wants you to do. You're slow to reach out, placing a hand on her ankle. She lets you, allowing you to gently lift her leg and slide her sock off, dropping it to the ground beside her. Your hand slides higher, caressing the soft skin of her calf, tracing the contours of her muscles. You're almost distracted until Yujin clears her throat, glaring down at you.

You nod, sliding the second sock off her foot and letting that join the first. You don't know where to look, her skin is right in front of you, begging to be kissed. Her eyes are boring into you, demanding all your attention.

"I don't know if you deserve it," she hums, lifting her foot. She drags her toes over your chest, the ball of her foot pressing down just beneath your collarbone.

"Deserve what?"

"To taste me," she laughs. "Don't think I didn't notice how distracted you were today. Don't think I didn't notice you staring at me."

"I wasn't—"

"Don't lie," she interrupts. "It's a bad habit."

You're so hopelessly disarmed. Lying underneath her on the hardwood floor of the studio with your body burning. She's so beautiful, and it's not fair. It's not fair how the universe created someone who can ruin you so easily and look so effortless doing it.

"You're lucky it's recording today tomorrow. You know what that means."

Like any other day before a big something, Yujin has a need for a release. It's a tradition at this point. The days leading up to something are so full of stress and excitement that it all gets too much and the only way for her to relieve herself is to use you.

You nod. You know exactly what it means.

She lowers her foot, and you feel her toes brush against the crotch of your shorts. You suck in a breath as she rubs up and down the fabric, pressing into you. She's watching your reaction, watching the way you bite your lip and clench your fists.

"You've been bad today. Distracted. Not focusing. Do you think you deserve this?"

"No," you shake your head.

"I don't think you do either." She removes her foot, stepping back.

It's torture. You clench your eyes as hard as your fists, desperate not to act out of turn.

"But you know what I want," she continues as you dare to open your eyes and look up. She's staring at you, hands on her hips. "You know what to do to get back on my good side."

You nod. Of course, you know. It's not the first time you've found yourself on the floor beneath her. You sit up on your knees and shuffle forwards. Her shorts are black and loose. Your fingers slip into the waistband and you tug them down slowly, sliding them over the curve of her ass, past the smooth, glowing skin of her thighs and down to her ankles.

You take a breath. You're so desperate. So hungry. She's wearing the laced panties you like. The ones you bought for her and left in her bag. They hug her so tightly that she seems to be straining against them. Her ass looks perfect, her thighs thick and inviting and her cunt...you can see the outline of her folds. The thin material barely covers her. She knows how much it affects you.

"You're staring again," she huffs, pushing her hand into your hair once more and tugging roughly.

"I can't help it," you whimper.

Her fingers twist and you feel the burn in your scalp once more as you wince in pain. Yujin's hand moves from your hair, dragging down the length of your neck and around to the front of your throat. Her hand squeezes gently, thumb and index finger digging in just below your jaw.

"You can. You will."

You gasp, her grip is tight and you can't breathe, your eyes watering with the pain and the pleasure that it brings. She leans forward, her breath hot against the shell of your ear, her grip tight. You're trembling, shaking with the effort of holding back.

"Beg me," she whispers.

"Let me taste you. Let me kiss you. Please, please let me—"

Her grip on your neck tightens, cutting you off. Your words dissolve into a whimpering mess and your eyes roll back in their sockets as your body melts into her. Her touch, her words, her everything has such an effect on you that it takes you to another world. The only thing that exists is the two of you.

"Pathetic," she scoffs, her lips brushing your ear. "You'll do anything, won't you?"

"Yes," you moan, and you mean it.

"Good," she says as she pushes you away and you collapse back against the ground. "Now make me feel good, will you? I'm sick of waiting."

Yujin steps over you, her legs on either side of you and she pulls the laced underwear to the side, lowering herself down until she's hovering just over your mouth.

She looks ethereal like this, the lights shining down on her. The goddess of your dreams, the star of your story.

"Please, let me—" You don't even need to finish your sentence, Yujin sinks down, pressing her pussy onto your lips and you open your mouth to lick at her. A mouth full of pussy, the taste of her arousal hitting your tongue. She grinds down, the soft skin of her thighs pressing in on either side of your face, trapping you. You lick again, tongue flat against her, licking up from her entrance and over her clit. She grunts and her hips buck forward, grinding her pussy down harder on your lips.

"More," she pants.

And you give it to her. Your tongue laps at her, teasing her clit. Her hips roll and you feel the slickness between her legs growing and it's all over you, coating your face as you desperately reach for her thighs. She slaps your hand away.

"Did I say you can touch?"

You struggle to shake your head between her legs.

"So keep them down."

Your hands go back to your side and she groans in approval, grinding harder and faster, using you like she knows she can. This is so Yujin, to use you like she's nothing but a toy for her to play with. You don't care, you'll do whatever she wants.

You're lost in the moment, your tongue licking, tasting and teasing as you desperately try and find the rhythm she's moving in. Her thighs tighten around your head, trapping you there. You cut shapes across her clit with your tongue and you feel the shuddering of her legs as she whines. She loves it when you write her name with your tongue. The letters spelling out An Yujin.

It's all it takes for you to be consumed by her. She's in your system and all you want to do is make her feel good.

Even the powerful, composed, elegant, Yujin has to succumb in some form to the pleasure. She's been riding you with so much poise and posture. Her back is slightly arched, so above you is just the beautiful expanse of her upper body—clung to by a sweat-soaked white shirt. She's running her hand across her chest, her fingers twisting a nipple as she works herself into a frenzy on you. Her head rolls, her hand moves to the base of her neck and she moans.

She basks in the light shining down on her, and it's a sight to behold. The way it glistens on her skin. The sweat runs down her chest. Her hair, her face. The way she looks when she's so completely in the moment.

"Fuck—" she gasps and her thighs tense around your head.

You're trapped and you're struggling. Your face is covered in slick and your mouth is filled with her taste. You feel like you're suffocating and all you can think is that this is how you want to die, with Yujin all over you. Yet you know there's more to come. She starts to crumble. The poise fades and she leans forward, slamming the palm of her hand against the floor.

She hunches as she rides harder. She's fucking down onto your face. Grinding her pussy on your lips and your chin, chasing the ecstasy that she needs. She's so close you can feel it in the way she trembles. You hear it in her moaning, her whines. She's there. Right there, on the cusp. 

And how you wish you could take hold of her. Grip her juicy ass in your hands and push your mouth against her cunt and fuck her with your tongue. You'd do it. You would. Your hands twitch at the thought. Your fingers curl into the floor instead. There will be no marks on Yujin's perfect skin from your fingers right now. You keep them clenched and do as you're told.

"Fuck—" She grunts, her thighs trembling. You can't move and you can barely breathe. All you can do is lick at her and let her ride you like a toy.

It's enough. Yujin cries out and her back arches, her head falling backwards. She comes and it's the most glorious sight, watching her body tense as her thighs tremble, clenching around your face. She grinds, rubbing against your tongue as she draws it out. It's messy and loud. She's panting, her chest heaving and she moans, rocking her hips and gasping.

It's like the tension washes out of her body and she sinks down, relaxing against you. She sits on your chest, looking down at you, a satisfied smirk on her face. You try to smile back but all you can manage is a dopey grin as you struggle to catch your breath. She's beautiful like this. Her eyes shine bright, the light behind them twinkling. Her skin glows and she looks like a work of art. A masterpiece.

"You did well," she praises, reaching out to touch your face, stroking her fingers across your cheeks, "you always do well for me, don't you?"

You nod. "I'd do anything for you," you say, and you mean it.

"I know you will." She shifts her hips, her thighs clamping down around your face again, restricting your air. Yujin laughs. "You'd let me suffocate you if I told you to."

And you would. You really would.

"But, I still have use for you," she tells you as she dismounts. Yujin relaxes on the floor next to you, her head propped up on her elbow.

You take a breath and roll over to look at her, still gasping for air. She smiles, reaching out and cupping your face with her hand, thumbing the wetness of her from your cheeks. You're a mess, covered in her, and her eyes tell you how much she loves that sight. How much she enjoys the power of having you like that.

Yujin leans over, her lips grazing over yours. The kiss is so light it makes you shiver. A complete contrast to what you've just experienced. She walks this balance so perfectly. The rough and the gentle, the affection and the torment. She's the best at both and she plays with them like an instrument.

"Do you like me?" Yujin blinks innocent eyes and it's a trap that you fall right into.

"Yes. You know that I do. I like you a lot."

Yujin grins. "Do you like my body?" She shuffles closer, looking down at you a little more. "Do you want to fuck me?"

You gulp, your mouth watering as your eyes wander over the curves of her figure, the way her nipples press against her shirt, the way the hem of it has risen, exposing her midriff and how she plays with the lace of her panties on her hip. You're so hard that you're aching and she knows that. You want her, you need her, you'd give anything to feel her.

"Yujin," you whimper. "Please."

"Do you deserve to fuck me? After being so bad today?"

"I can make up for it. I'll do anything—"

"I bet you would," she hums. Her hand reaches out, sliding over your shorts, her fingers grazing over the obvious bulge. "You want it that badly?"

You nod and you're desperate.

"You want to be inside me?"

"Please, Yujin," you whimper.

She grins, tugging at the waist of your shorts and slipping her fingers under the waist. "You want to grab my ass while I ride you like the toy that you are? Do you want me to bounce on your dick, hm? The one that belongs to me?"

You bite your lip as you nod fervently, watching the way her eyes shine and the corners of her lips twist. Yujin lets out a soft laugh at your desperation.

"Then worship me." She pulls her hand away from your crotch and places it on her hip to pose. "Show me how much you like my body."

Yujin rolls onto her back, throws her hands above her head and bends a knee as her other leg stretches out. She looks so perfect, so inviting. So you climb to your knees, looking over her as she relaxes. There's a natural arch to her body between her shoulders and her ass that leaves a sliver of light between the small of her back and the floor. She's an art piece. Like a statue carved from stone, sculpted and designed to be admired. A creation so beautiful and elegant.

And you're on your knees for her, kissing up her outstretched leg. Your hand traces over her thigh. You're slow, taking your time. The skin beneath your lips is so soft, so smooth, so delicate. You don't deserve her. Your lips press into the path your hand paves up her body. Gentle kisses of appreciation on the thigh you adore so much.

"Yujin—" you breathe the words hot onto her skin. A lick, to taste the sweat from her body, a kiss, to mark the spot. A honey-laced laugh rings in the air. "You're so beautiful," you murmur.

Your mouth presses against her hip, tongue trailing over her skin. Your fingers lip up under her tight-fitted shirt. She's so warm. Her body feels like it's burning and her breaths are heavy.

She looks down the length of her body to watch you as your hand slides up, pushing her shirt with it. Your lips graze over your stomach, tongue teasing and tracing over the defined lines. You're in awe of her. She's perfect, and she knows it, but you still want her to know that she's appreciated. That she's worshipped, admired, adored, lusted for, and wanted.

"I know I am," she laughs, "but tell me more."

"An Yujin," you breathe the name into her skin as you kiss your way to her chest, your hand sliding further up her body until the palm of your hand rests on the softness of her breast. "No one is like you," you whisper as you squeeze the mound in your hand, feeling her body beneath you, feeling the way it moves when your hand does. "You're so flawless."

She moans softly when your fingers pinch her nipple. "Keep going," Yujin hums.

"You're stunning," you continue, looking up at her face as you kiss across her chest to the other breast, your hand still fondling. Your mouth hovers over her nipple and your eyes flicker up to meet hers as you lick over it. She gasps and you lick again, teasing and flicking over it. "You're the most decadent, alluring thing I have ever laid eyes on."

"I'm your fantasy?" Her hands move to the top of your head, her fingers twisting into the strands of your hair as you lick, sucking her into your mouth again, teasing her with the flat of your tongue. You suck and she lets out a sharp hiss of a moan.

"My fantasy," you breathe the words against her chest. "You're my dream."

Her hips lift, pushing against you and the growing ache of your erection. The friction, the heat, the feeling of her—it's so good. She grinds, rolling her hips and rubbing against your cock, smirking at the way you whine, your eyes fluttering.

"You want to cum," she taunts. "Don't you?"

"Yujin," you moan her name again as her fingers twist tighter in your hair. Your hips roll down to meet the grind of her body and your mouth finds the crook of her neck. You inhale the scent of her. You're surrounded by Yujin. It's dizzying. She's everywhere. The smell of her, the taste of her on your tongue and lips, the feeling of her skin on your hands, under your body, the sight of her, the sound of her voice. Everything is Yujin, and you can't think of a better world to live in. "I want you," you tell her. "I want to be inside you, I need you."

"I know what you need," she hums. Yujin's hands tug on your shirt and you sit back and pull it off. Her palms press against your chest, pushing you to lie back on the floor. You watch her and the grace with which she moves, kneeling over your waist as she peels her own shirt over her head and tosses it to the side.

Your eyes are all over her body. Yujin's hands run over the softness of her skin, and she cups her tits in her hands, rolling her thumbs over her nipples, her eyes locked on yours as you watch. Her body is a wonderland. There's no part of it that you haven't seen. No inch of her skin you haven't touched or tasted. You know every crevice of it, every mark and blemish, every imperfection. You know them all and you love them. They're the most perfect imperfections you've ever seen.

She knows the power that her body has over you, the control it gives her. Yujin knows how to wield that weapon, how to make it into the sharpest sword, and how to cut you with it.

"Fuck me," you plead, the words escaping your lips in desperation. "Yujin, please."

"You beg so beautifully for me," she smiles, her fingers sliding under the waistband of your shorts. "Lift your hips."

And you obey, lifting them from the floor. Yujin's fingers tug at the fabric, pulling them down your thighs. She smiles at the sight of you, hard and leaking. Yujin's hands slide over your bare thighs. You're exposed, and the feeling of the cool air hitting your skin sends a chill up your spine. Her palms slide up until she wraps one around the base of your cock and her touch sends a shiver through your body. Yujin strokes up, slowly, twisting her hand on the upstroke. Your hips buck at her touch and she grins at the way your cock twitches, the precum leaking across the back of her hand as she reaches the top.

"You're so needy," she says as her hand glides back down. Your eyes are wide, watching every move she makes as if your life depended on it. "I like it," she tells you.

"I'd do anything—"

"I know you would," Yujin laughs, cutting you off. She shuffles forward on her knees until her thighs press on either side of your waist, caging you between her. The way she towers over you, with that look in her eyes that says you belong to her. "You're my toy, aren't you?"

"I'm your toy."

"That's right." Her hand squeezes tighter around the base of your cock as she lifts her hips, hovering just over you. You don't know how long she's going to keep you waiting, you never do. It could be seconds, it could be minutes. She has a sadistic streak that you've never understood and it's always a game of how desperate can she make you before giving in to your begging. "And who does this belong to?" she asks.

"You. Yujin. It belongs to you," you breathe the words, your fingers curling into the palms of your hands.

"That's right, it belongs to me. This cock," she strokes up again. "It's mine. Isn't it?" Yujin's fingers trace up, circling your tip.

"It's yours," you whimper. The desperation has you whining.

"It is," she laughs, and it's a sound that makes your stomach twist into knots. She squeezes you and lifts her hips just a little, enough for you to feel the heat of her body. You feel her thighs squeeze against you as she grinds her pussy on the underside of your cock, dragging the length of you through her folds and over her clit.

Instinct dictates that you bring your hand to her hip, but you know you can't just take hold of her, not unless she's given the go-ahead. You clench your hands tighter, biting your lip to hold in your frustration, your desperation.

Yujin's hips rock against you again, grinding down and using your cock to get herself off. You can feel the slickness between her legs. You can hear the wet sound it makes. She's using you, and she's loving every second. It's the sound you know too well. She's getting herself off. The feeling of her is intoxicating, and your cock is throbbing, twitching as it slides against her pussy, hitting her clit. The moans from Yujin's lips tell you exactly what it's doing to her. How much she loves the way it makes her feel.

You can't touch. You can't take control. All you can do is lie back, your head tipped back against the floor as your fingers grip in vain at the floor, struggling to keep them from reaching out for her. Yujin's body moves like silk in the wind, and you know she's so close. The sound of her, the feeling of her. She's riding the edge, grinding down, the tip of your cock catching on her entrance as she teases you with every move.

"Yujin—" you beg her name as your head falls to the side, eyes clenched closed.

"What?" Her voice is thick with lust and you feel her hand on your chin, gripping your jaw, her nails biting into your cheeks. She turns your face and forces your eyes open to watch the way she moves. "You want to be inside me?"

You can only nod in reply, feeling her fingers tighten around you, squeezing. She grins, leaning over and you feel the breath of her laughter on your neck. Her lips brush your skin. Her teeth nip, biting down on your shoulder, making you wince. Yujin's hips roll forward, and the tip of your cock catches on her entrance. She holds there for a moment, a silent torment of anticipation as your mind swirls and your stomach flips. And then you feel the heat, her warmth as she slowly pushes herself onto your cock. You watch with a hitched breath, your heart hammering in your chest. You feel her. She feels you.

The breath you'd held rushes out, a gasping moan, the feeling of being enveloped by her body. The tight warmth as Yujin sinks all the way down. Her pussy grips your length, squeezing tight and you can feel the way it flutters, the way it grips, the way it clenches around you. Your eyes meet hers, and you can see how much she enjoys having this effect on you. How she loves the way you react, the sounds she forces you to make, the way you squirm and gasp beneath her. She owns you. Completely. Utterly. Irrevocably.

Her hands press down on your chest, and she starts to move, rolling her hips, circling, lifting up just enough that she can feel you slide in and out of her. You can feel it all, you're aware of every movement she makes. How she grinds her clit against your body on the downstroke, the way her hips tilt to find the right spot, the way she moans when she hits the perfect angle. The way she moves when she finds the right pace, the perfect rhythm. It's everything and all at once.

"You feel so good inside me," Yujin purrs. She leans back, placing a hand on the top of your thigh. Her body is open to you. She's exposed. The panties she still wears are pulled to the side, her breasts bouncing with every move of her body, her stomach tightening, the soft skin pulled taut as her abs clench. She's a sight, a beauty to behold and a treasure to worship.

"Yujin, please," you breathe the word into the space between the two of you. It's not enough, you need to touch. You have to. But you're trapped and she's in charge. "Let me touch you."

"No." It's simple, the way she says it. It's like she's not even thinking about the effect she's having on you like she doesn't even realise what she's doing to your sanity. She rides you like a toy, her hips moving, grinding down, her thighs squeezing and relaxing as she works. You can only whine, lying back against the ground. You watch as she takes what she needs from you, her hand slipping down her stomach and to her clit, circling quickly as her moans fill the room. "This is my cock," she breathes, "and I'll do what I like with it."

"Yes," you hiss as your hips push upwards, your hands balled into fists at your sides. You're so hard it hurts. It aches and it throbs, and all you can do is lie back, trapped beneath Yujin and her powerful thighs. "Yujin—" you breathe, but the words stick in your throat.

Her eyes are dark, the lust-filled pools staring down at you as you lie back, completely helpless and at her mercy. Your cock twitches and she gasps, her hand on her clit, rubbing furiously, chasing her release. She's getting closer and closer with each passing second and it shows in her face. Her brow creasing, lips parted and eyes fluttering.

She's fucking herself on your dick. Yujin is using you to get herself off and you love every second of it. The feeling of her walls gripping you tight, squeezing, her body clenching around you. The way her thighs tense and shake as she moves. Her moans, her gasps. Her eyes are on you, watching you watch her.

Yujin gasps and her body shudders, her pace quickening, her fingers circling faster, rubbing frantically at her clit as she chases her orgasm. You know how close she is, and all you can do is watch her face as she gets closer and closer. Her body is shaking, trembling as the wave builds inside her. Her moans get louder, and more intense. Her fingers work harder, and you feel her tightening, the walls of her pussy squeezing down, and then she cries out, her head tipping back, her body arching, her chest pushing out as she rides the waves of her orgasm.

It's beautiful. The way her body reacts to it all, the way she looks when she comes undone. Yujin moans your name and it sends shivers up and down your spine. She looks ethereal like this. A deity to be admired. A queen on her throne.

She's beautiful. She's breathtaking. She's Yujin.

When the waves stop crashing, Yujin collapses onto you, her body limp and spent. The warmth of her body pressed against you feels like heaven and your cock is still inside her, pulsing, aching, begging for its own release.

"I don't know if I should let you cum," Yujin pants in a whisper, her face pressed against your shoulder, the hot breath on your skin sending shivers down your spine. "Could just leave you here like this. All hard and frustrated. Aching. You'd probably go home and get yourself off thinking about me."

She's right. Of course, she's right. You would.

"Or maybe you can show me just how much you appreciate me," she breathes, pushing herself up, hands on either side of your head. "Would you like that?"

"Anything," you tell her. Your hands twitch, desperate to reach up to her. "You know I would."

"I know." She smirks and sits up. Her hips lift until you feel your cock slipping out of her, her wetness dripping onto you. Yujin's fingers trace over the mess she's left, smearing it on her fingertips before bringing it to your lips. You know what she wants. She doesn't even need to ask.

Your mouth opens and she pushes her fingers between your parted lips, letting you lick them clean. You suck her fingers and her eyes watch you, a glint of something dangerous shining. She pulls them out slowly, dragging the tips over your bottom lip. "Good," Yujin breathes the word as she climbs off of you and turns around.

The curve of her ass is a beautiful thing to see. It's soft, smooth, plump. She catches a glance at you staring, a smirk tugging on her lips. She plants her hand against her ass (a harsh reminder that feeling it yourself requires her permission) and squeezes the flesh before letting out a laugh. It's all a game to her.

"You're going to show me, by cumming for me. Cumming on me." She settles back onto the floor, gracefully lying back into a pose. "You have two minutes. Two minutes to show me how much you love my body." She runs a hand from her chest all the way to her hips and you watch, entranced by every movement she makes. Yujin laughs again. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

The words kick you into action and you scramble to your knees and shuffle towards her. She laughs at the sweet, sweet honey sound that makes you melt. Your hand wraps around the base of your cock, the wetness from Yujin's pussy coating it, slick and smooth as you slowly stroke your length. You stare at her, watching the way her chest rises and falls with each breath, the way her fingers trace up and down the skin of her thigh, the way her tongue darts out to wet her lips.

It's intoxicating. You're drunk on Yujin, high off of her beauty, and you're addicted. There's no going back. You're hers, completely. Your fist tightens around your length and your strokes quicken. The feeling of it is so good and your cock is still throbbing from being trapped inside her. You can feel the lingering heat of her body on your skin. The scent of her, the taste, the sound. It's everywhere. Surrounding you. Enveloping you. Engulfing you. Consuming you.

"Two minutes," she hums the reminder, her fingers sliding between her thighs. Yujin's fingers slide over the panties she still wears. "Two minutes to make yourself cum for me. To make a mess of my body."

"Yujin," you whimper her name like it's a prayer. The sound of her voice, the sight of her body. The knowledge of what you've done, of what you've experienced. You've been inside her. You've had the taste of her on your tongue, the sound of her in your ears. Her pussy is still dripping and her thighs glistening. You're still so hard that you're aching, and all you can do is stroke yourself. All you can do is pump your hand and feel your fingers glide up and down your shaft.

Your eyes flicker from the smooth, warm, inviting skin of her chest to her pussy and back. You've tasted her. You've felt her. You've felt the way she grips and clenches, the way she feels. The sound of her when she cums.

"I don't know if you can do it. I don't know if you can cum." Yujin teases and she knows how to play you. "One minute."

"Yujin," you moan her name again and again as you feel it building. The pressure. The heat. Your cock twitches in your hand as you stroke. The sensation of the wet heat, the friction, the knowledge that Yujin is beneath you, but you're hers to command, to control. It's too much and it's everything. You feel it in your core, a twisting, coiling, winding tension that's threatening to snap.

"Do you want to cum on me?" Her voice breaks through the fog. "Do you want to mark my body with your cum? Make a mess of me?"

She throws her hands above her head, stretching out her body and presenting herself for your load. "Thirty seconds," Yujin warns, the hint of danger on the tip of her tongue.

"Yujin—" You can only whisper her name as you stroke. Hard and fast, gripping and twisting. You're so close. Right there, standing on the precipice.

"That's it. Be a good boy for me," she praises. "Show me how much you adore me."

"I—I—" Your words die in your throat, a gasping, breathless moan. You're cumming, the tension snaps and it's all too much. The pleasure rushes over you like a wave. You're drowning in it. You're suffocating. Your hips stutter, thrusting into your fist, pumping your length as you feel the hot spurts of your cum painting over Yujin's perfect, beautiful skin. The first spurt splashes across her breasts, the second spattering across her stomach and chest. Her laughter fills the room. She loves this, seeing the way she's ruined you.

Your body shakes, your hand slowing as the final drops fall from your cock to the expanse of Yujin's body. Your mind swims as you struggle to breathe. Your head spins and your vision is blurry. She's laughing, her fingers swiping through the cum, rubbing it into her skin. Her hands roam all over her body and you're entranced. Your body feels like jelly as you collapse, slumped onto your side on the floor beside her.

"Good boy," Yujin purrs, her hand sliding over her stomach and down between her legs, rubbing at her clit with your cum. She's smearing it everywhere, all over her pussy, her fingers slipping between her folds and then back to her clit. It runs over her chest, dripping down the side of her tit. Her breath hitches and you watch, mesmerised by her. "Such a good boy."

"Yujin," her name falls from your lips as if you've lost all other words, the way a prayer is uttered, reverently and devotedly. "I—"

She laughs again. It's light and playful. "I know. I'm the best, right? You're so lucky."

"Yes." It's the only thing you can think of to say. You are lucky. So unbelievably lucky.

[jayktoralldaylong]

One of my favourite things about Arcane is that all the couples can be read as toxic, which is GREAT.

I'm tired of people bringing morality debates into dark media. Let dark media be fucking dark. You guys wouldn't survive a day in the TMA fandom, needing everyone to be as good as gold. How are they going to make for enjoyable complex characters if they're not morally grey. In fact, I wish there'd been more expansion on just how morally black they can become!

"CaitVi is so toxic" According to lesbian statistics, that sounds just about accurate. 💀 Heck, I wish Caitlyn had done more (Not really, but it would have been nice to further explore the darkness in her heart). Isn't it adorable how she immediately folded as soon as Vi called her cupcake? Caitlyn's like one of those villains that will consistently do the most....until it comes to someone else hurting her girlfriend. The only one allowed to hurt her girlfriend is her. 💀

Then let's talk about Vi. Someone pointed out how Vi never cared about Zaun's independence in the first place and many people yelled that they were wrong. But actually, they were right. Vi never wanted Zaun. Zaun was Silco's dream, and Jinx inherited that dream cause Silco would never shut up about it. Vi wanted Piltover to take responsibility for all the shit they allowed to happen in the Undercity. That's a part of the reason she joined up with Caitlyn in the first place. Let's not forget she wasn't dissuaded when she dragged Jayce down to fight with her and he killed a child. Children been dying, it's been her whole life. Someone needed to do something about it, and Zaun would have just isolated the people from all the privileges that Piltover SHOULD have been providing for them. Some people just can't accept that Independence cannot in fact solve every problem, and sometimes independence is colonisers running away from the responsibility of fixing the mess that they started in the first place.

Besides, we all know Vi joined up with the Enforcers because "I feel like I am worthless if I can't be of service." She'd already run out of family members to serve, Caitlyn was the next best thing. She's just like Jayce.

And speaking of Jayce, let's talk about his violent levels of codependency with anyone who'll give him attention. People LOOOOVE to talk about Mel, but it's there with Viktor too. When bro wasn't basing his worth on his inventions, he was centering it around Viktor.

Viktor who decided at some point in his life that he would not LIVE without Jayce. He was fine dying without him, but living without him was unacceptable. Oh how healthy. 🙄😂 Viktor be the kind of toxic ex to threaten divorce 500 times over, then burn the world when you actually leave him. Jayce is no better cause he's the kind of guy to keep going back to his toxic Ex.

Yes, Mel is manipulative. That's what I love about her. How are you guys failing to give this woman the praise of being an outsider in Piltover, but running their entire council. 💀 Girl raises her hand once and the whole government starts spinning. She was the best sugar mummy Jayce and Viktor could ever ask for. She kept the whole city running. Literally the entire of Piltover dancing on her palm. And yes she manipulated Jayce but let's not forget she thought that was a love language. 💀 You wanna be mad at someone, be mad at Ambessa for raising her that way.

I also don't think it's fair to blame her for the Undercity situation, she's not native. Monkey see, monkey do, and not a single one of those Council members actually cared about the situation down there, it was deplorable. 💀 Jayce did way more in his two weeks as Councillor than any of those drug pushing, money laundering, Piltovian heads of government.

And that just covers MelJayVik, we don't even need to get fully into TimeBomb, cause we know what's wrong there. 💀 Surely we have not forgotten the many teammates Jinx has killed, but making sure to never kill Ekko cause that's her man. Ekko has a lot to unpack, like how his consistent and unwavering love for Jinx is an indication of a lot of doors he might not be ready to open. I know they dynamics go crazy and I love to see it.

Ambessa and Sevika are a crack ship but I'm sure we all know bedroom dynamics go crazy with Mrs. Warlord and Miss Liberation. I love it when characters clash in a toxic heap. It's insane and should be explored.

Quit saintifying my toxic ships with your woke morality debates. If you want everyone to be sunshine and rainbows then you should be watching literally anything else. 💀 "It's not healthy." GOOD, I like it that way. 💀 Angst, spice and trauma are the recipe for a plethora of explorative fanfiction. Any of their dynamics can be taken in any toxic direction and I want that EXPLORED.

[up-in-my-bunghole]

A hopefully comforting note to those of you out there who miss the warm feeling of the holidays and feel hopeless while trying to chase or recreate the nostalgia:

You can rebuild that warmth.

You can take the feelings of stress and loneliness and despair and make joy anyway. The holidays never feel the same, but they can feel good again. They can feel better.

I just got to celebrate my first Christmas day with my family in my apartment and just cooking together and watching movies together. There weren't any of the little bells and whistles that used to make me happy as a child, no Christmas tree or lights or homemade cookies and a great big gift ceremony, but the important things were there. I had my family and I got to spend time with them in a way that matters to me and I'm now finding that all the bells and whistles do matter to me as much.

You can also make the holidays about anything you want! You don't have to go on expensive and stressful shopping hauls for gifts and decorations and just thrift with friends and make decorations with what you have and bake cookies together and make mulled wine and instead of giving people a bunch of new impersonal gift baskets and bundles that come generic off the shelves and are usually filled with crap no one will use, you can make gifts! You can paint or bake or mix spices or teas or thrift or browse local shops or crochet or comb market places to find something that means something special.

My point is that even though the holidays lost their spark for so many, that doesn't mean hope is lost and it doesn't mean it can't get better. Know that you can heal and that there can be light again.

[janus-cadet]

Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it! As a special treat, here is another taort card- from a new fandom, yes, yes, but... the last one of the Major Arcana !

Arcana. Ah. Arcane.

Yeah, this is some Jayvik. Here, as The World.

(explanations under the cut!)

Upright, first ! When The World card appears in a Tarot reading, you are glowing (literally, for them) with a sense of achievement, fulfilment, and completion. A long-term project, period of study (the hextech, perhaps?), or relationship has come full circle (from strangers, to partners, to whatever fluctuent situationship season 2 was, to soulmate on an astral plane), and you are now reveling in the sense of closure and accomplishment. Everything has come together, and you are in the right place, doing the right thing, achieving what you have envisioned. You feel whole and complete (with him)

Reversed, now.

The World Reversed suggests that you are seeking closure on a personal issue (POV, you're Jesus now, but you can't let go of one silly little blanket). You know, deep down, that to accept and embrace where you are now, you need to let go of the past and move on. Trying to leave the lab, for example. Or take a hammer to Jesus's face, who knows, no one would judge you, dear.

The World Reversed can signify that you want to fulfil a big goal or complete a big project (the great evolution ! come on! It's free!), but you’re not taking all the right steps to get there (you want to make people's life better? Good, but perhaps, maybe, don't start a cult, it's a very bad look). You may opt for the easiest or quickest path to attain your goal, but it won't lead to the outcome you intend. World domination, you know... Or, reaching the top of PIltover's society, and taking some *decisions* that sure are... things to think of...

And that's it for today! Trulyhope you enjoyed that- and who knows, maybe, a Jinx card could be expected before the end of the year....

[chaoticwriting]

Gotham New Rogue 2

It's been a few weeks since Danny started to become the Trickster. To be honest, it is working very well. His core is expanding fast as ectoplasm is regenerating faster than ever before. He is also slowly developing new abilities and gaining more control and powers to his already established abilities.

For instance, Danny used to struggle making clones, but now he can easily create dozens of them with just a thought. He can also change his clothes to whatever he imagines using ectoplasm now. His ice power is also stronger and easier to control. His superhuman body is developing and slowly getting stronger and faster.

Overall, Danny will say that make a smart decision to become a rogue especially since no one has caught him yet. Danny is currently laying on top of a building watching the sun slowly set in the horizon. His stomach suddenly grumbles and he decides to hit the shack before he gets to "work" tonight.

Jumping off the roof, Danny lands and walks to the nearest Batburger while still wearing his rogue suit. He has a totally funny idea today and it involves him being seen in public. Entering the Batburger is like entering a library for some reason. As soon as he enters, everyone goes deathly quiet.

Danny slowly walks towards the cashier and orders his food.

Danny: 5 sets of set C please.

Cashier: Ermm, that will be 60 bucks.

Danny: Here.

After paying for the food, Danny gets his food and sits at one of the tables alone. It's only after he is through his 3rd set that reality is set in for the people. They begin to move and contrary to Danny's expectations, approach him to ask for pictures. Danny allows them some pictures and unknowingly raises his status as Gotham's friendliest rogue.

Suddenly, a white man that screams rich guy, a woman with blonde hair and a black guy wearing Signal's merch approach him. Danny has learned a lot of things from his 14 years of life and 2 years of half life and Danny knows when a rich guy approaches you, it's never good (Sam doesn't have the rich vibe).

Rich guy: Hello Trickster! May we have a meal with you?

Danny: Sure.

Rich guy: Ah, how rude of me. My name is Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne. These two are my friends, Stephanie Brown and Duke Thomas. You can call me Tim by the way.

Danny: Sure, Tim.

They sit opposite him with their meals and try to make small talks with him while eating. The trio realize that Danny seems to respond a lot better when Steph or Duke is the one to ask the question.

Steph: So, Trickster. Why don't you like my friend here?

Duke: Way to go in being subtle, Steph. Why not ask who is he really next?

Steph: Hey, I can't help it you know. He seems so snarky whenever Tim asks questions. I wanna know if Tim pissed him off or something.

Danny: He is rich, right?

Duke: Err, yes?

Steph: Let's say he is. Why does that matter?

Danny: I hate rich people. And government. But who doesn't hate the government?

Duke: So, eat the rich?

Danny: Yes.

Steph: Cool cool. We are also here just so we could leech him off anyway. We're not really friends.

Tim: Ow, you hurt me by saying that. What happened to our vow of eternal friendships?

Steph: I cross my fingers.

Duke: I lie.

Danny: Hahahaha. You're like my friends.

Tim: You have friends?

Danny: Of course I have friends. And unlike you I don't need money to have friends.

Tim: Sorry sorry. Are your friends also rouges?

Danny: Wouldn't you like to know? Last I need is Batman investigating my friends. I'm sure Batman is part of you rich people group chat or something.

Steph and Duke: *Snickers*

Tim: *Glares at the two* Why would you think Batman is in contact with the rich people?

Danny: Isn't it obvious? Batman has all these high tech gadgets and is always there fast whenever a Wayne is kidnapped. I would even say Batman is being sponsored by the Wayne.

Danny: I also don't like most heroes in general. They are just the government lapdog doing whatever the government wants.

Tim, Steph and Duke frowned at that statement. From the way Danny speaks, it is clear that he has some history against the government. Him being here also means he is at least confident enough to run away if any of the bats are here. Is it just blind confidence or a truly competent ability will remain to be seen.

Tim is just about to refute him when Danny suddenly stands up. All of them tensed up and ready for battle when Danny turns towards one side of the window, waves and disappears right in front of them. They are very confused and when they turn towards the direction Danny was just looking at, they see Batman and Black Bat right on the rooftop across the building.

Batman and Tim nod to each other and they all return to the caves.

-Batcave-

Tim: So you all hear the conversation right?

Dick: Except at the end where the sound becomes blurred for a moment, we hear everything.

Tim: Good. So what are your thoughts on this?

Damian: It is pretty self explanatory Drake. He has a personal hatred towards the government and that extends to all bodies of government or people he thought is connected to the government.

Tim: But why though? Is the hatred towards the government something as simple because he is a criminal? Or is there something else towards it?

Bruce: There is nothing to find about him currently with our limited resources about him. Return to the manor for today and take some rest. We will investigate it later.

All of them return to the manor and rest for the night.

-2 weeks later-

The Trickster is standing in front of an unconscious and tied up Batman. He is giggling loudly that evolves into full blown laughter.

He takes off Batman's belt and starts to pull out stuff one after another. Soon, he found the item that he needed.

Trickster: Hahahahahahaha. I have finally got it. The strongest weapon in the world!

The batfam that is watching the live broadcast shiver as they watch Trickster holds out the black object high in the sky.

[charlietheepicwriter7]

Ś̷̻̼͉͍̙̱̰͔͉̊̔͑͋̅͊̉̍͆̂̄́͘͜ų̷̯̬̅̎͌r̵̡̡̛͖̖͚̟̫̤̯̼͈̂͋͂̏͜v̴̧̠̳͛͠ḯ̶̝͈͈̩̖̒̃̈́͗͛̽̎̕��͎v̶̨͚͚̪̜̥͓̩̲̖̿ę̶̡̨͇͙̬̮̪̗̓̐

Get In the Water Ruthlessness Hold Them Down

Danyal's blow forced Constantine to skid back several feet. The only reason it didn't cleave him in two was the magical shield he'd thrown up last minute. Damian could only watch as the white magic crawled up his brother's arm.

Danyal screeched, a shockwave erupting from his mouth and shaking the cavern. Gritting his teeth, Constantine grabbed Danyal's arm with both hands and yanked him off course. Whirling around, Constantine threw Danyal across the room. Danyal righted himself midair and lunged again, but Constantine was ready. With a flick of his wrist, a sigil burned into the air, and a barrier of golden light erupted between Danyal and Talia. Danyal’s claws raked against it, sparks flying, but it held—for now.

The whites of his eyes had turned green.

Constantine staggered back, sweat dripping from his brow. He looked worse than Damian had ever seen him, gaunt and exhausted. "That won't hold 'im for long," he remarked. "Lad's losing all sense of himself. It’s the Pits—too much exposure to ‘em. They’ve warped him, torn his essence to shreds." He grimaced. "But if we stay here much longer, he's going to tear us to shreds."

Damian looked away from his mother fleeing the room, to Danyal, hissing and spitting insults as his claws ripped into the magic shield. In the Lazarus Pit, Danyal had been... calm. Disdainful, but calm. It was only in the overworld where Danyal lost his reason-

"No!" Damian said. "We don't need to leave. He does."

"You want to inflict that thing on the rest of the world!?" Todd yelled back.

Damian snapped, snarling. "That thing is my twin brother, and you will treat him with the respect he deserves!"

Danyal screamed from behind the shield. "I'm your murder victim, not your brother!" Danyal cackled again. The green leaked out of Danyal's eyes in jagged cracks as his voice suddenly deepened. "Ṭ̴̢̢̻͓̱̯̭̊̄͊̀̐̐̏̃̊̊̉ê̶̢̱̪̰͇͇̻̺̆̏̋̃̾̓͑̄͘l̴̥̹̫̦̲̳̼̗̮̗̼̤̒͛̇̇̐̔͜l̷͖͕͇̯̹̖̲̬͔̈͑̒̈́̀̕͜ ̵̪̋̋̄̈͘ṱ̸͇͓̃̌̄̄͒̍̒̃̌̔͘h̵̡͈̝͈̠̜̞̳̻̮͕̻͓̯̘̒́̽̓͝e̵͎͔̼̘̺͓͎̹̅̊m̵̛̠̻̰̦̀͋͋̓̈́̿̊̓̈́̿̕̕."

Damian closed his eyes and inhaled through his nose. Upon his exhale, he opened his eyes again, certain of what he has to do. Damian stepped forward, Grayson's hand falling away as he squared himself against Danyal. His voice was steady, though it carried the weight of everything he’d been holding back. “I killed you. I snuck poison out of Mother's room and slipped it in your evening drink.”

The room fell deathly silent. Even the faint hum of the Lazarus Pit seemed to fade as Damian’s words echoed.

Danyal tilted his head, his twisted grin spreading wider. “There it is,” he said, his voice dripping with venom. “The truth, laid bare. But do you feel better now, little brother? Does admitting it cleanse you of your sins?”

“No,” Damian replied firmly. His hand drifted to his sword hilt, but he didn’t draw it. “But I’ll make it right.”

Danyal’s smile vanished, his eyes narrowing as he floated , green light crackling like static around him. “Make it right? You think you can fix this?” His voice was a roar, reverberating through the chamber.

Damian drew his sword, the blade glinting in the eerie light. He pointed the blade at Danyal, his stance resolute. “You said it before; me or them. Me or Gotham. So here I am. I challenge you to a duel. One last battle, brother. Just us.”

"No!" Grayson protested. "Damian, you can't-"

"T̷̲̳̀̋̈́͗͝h̵͓̀͂̓̃̍̍��̹̪̟̤ȋ̶̖̞̝̐͑́̀̓͝͝s̶͍͎̩̱̫̰̈́�� ̶̞̺̹̔̂͌͗͒͐͜ȋ̷̢̛̞̱̘͎̙̐ş̴͈̣͎͖̐̐̌͠ņ̴̟̥̟̉̓͂̐̑͗'̵̭͙̳̥̱̦̖̇͂̆̕ͅt̶̲̱̪̠͓̀́͋́ ̵̜͚̪͕̣̙̯̦̈͒a̶͔͔̫͖̹̝͗̀̓̚͜b̷̨̨͚̯̲̮̠̏̍͛̇͊͝ơ̴̙̥̪̰̦̭͆̀̒̐ư̵̻̰̍̇̅̾̎̅̃t̷̢͔̣̻͖̙̦̃̈́͆̆̈́̚̕ ̴͍̖̰͎̪̹̮̲͐̎ỳ̶̖̼͈̥́̀͊̂o̶̡̪͕̒́ư̴͍̬͗̀͗̿͐̊.̴̯̻̭̱̤̩̋́͛͠ͅ" Danyal sneered at Grayson. His claws finished slicing clean through Constantine's barrier. With a deafening screech, Danyal lunged, his hand glowing with green light that morphed into a sword. Damian met him head-on, their clash sending shockwaves through the chamber. His family scrambled to stay out of the way, their shouts of protest drowned out by the sound of steel against spectral energy.

Danyal fought like a demon, his movements erratic but deadly, each strike fueled by years of pent-up rage and pain. And Damian did not stay uninjured, as cuts and bruises built up as he, inch by torturous inch, forced Danyal back towards the Lazarus Pit.

With every strike Danyal landed, Damian gave him one in kind. The moment his feet touched the ground, Damian struck at his heel. In the air, he focused on attacking from behind. And Damian kept up his attack, without falter, because defeat was not allowed.

"I won't let you kill me," he said during a parry.

“You don’t know what it means to survive!” Danyal roared, slamming his claws into Damian’s blade. “You don’t know what it’s like to claw your way back, piece by piece, from the darkness you threw me into!”

“You’re wrong,” Damian shot back, his voice fierce. “I’ve been in that darkness too. I’ve fought my way out. And I won’t leave you there.”

Their battle raged on, but Damian slowly drove Danyal back, step by step, toward the Lazarus Pit. Finally, with a calculated feint, Damian disarmed Danyal, dispelling his etherial sword. Before Danyal could react, Damian lunged, tackling him with all his strength.

The two of them tumbled backward, plunging into the glowing green depths of the Lazarus Pit. The chamber shook, the waters surging violently as they disappeared beneath the surface.

And the world turned green.

[lost-romantique]

Stolas' Entitlement is so Funny to me...

Stolas is presented as so well put together most of the series, and down to earth for the most part, that I think a lot of the general audience do forget that Stolas is literally a motherfucking Prince that has had a silver spoon for the entirety of his life.

This fucking man just had bacon, ham, scrambled eggs, and pancakes prepared by the man he loves, and I'm gonna be blunt, THE FOOD BLITZ MADE LOOKS FUCKING DELICIOUS by Hell standards.

"Normally I dine on a custom diet prepared by my waiting staff; full of essential nutrients and freshly prepared rarities, such as roasted vole or... Fire koi?

I cannot be the only person who has no idea whatever the fuck Stolas just said...

*Blitz look at him with his undivided attention*

"A fresh kale salad?"

"Oh, nice. Anything that I can get that's affordable?"

The fact that Blitz just straight out said that he can't afford the food Stolas usually eats, so when Stolas asks for rats, Blitz just obliges and takes the food away.

Motherfucker I've only seen you eat cereal.

"Really? Wow, rich people don't have any fun do they?"

"No, fun is free, but WE can afford nice things."

Stolas, not beating the "rich privileged asshole" allegations with that line, that's for sure. This is literally the most offensive thing I have ever heard come out of his mouth, and I am here for it.

"You know what might help that privileged little attitude? Paperwork!"

Simp Blitz is a fucking godsend because if someone who was crashing at my place said that shit to me...

"Eugh, you have to spend your holiday at work?"

Yes Stolas, it's called living paycheck to paycheck, and soon you'll have to join the fray.

"You could use a little money coming in, right?"

"Money coming in?"

"Oh lords... I'M POOR NOW!"

*sobs*

"FUCK!"

I find it so fucking funny that Stolas has been living on Blitzø's couch for an entire month, but it took Blitzø putting him in front of a telephone to realize that he's poor.

If it makes Stolas feel any better, since he is technically dating the boss, maybe he can just 😏 to get a little extra something... something.

[hyper-fixated-delusions]

You’re insecure (don’t know what for.)

Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader.

*Credit to the owner of the gif.*

A/N: Here’s a little Christmas gift for you all!! 🎄🎁 I hope you enjoy and I apologize for any mistakes! Also comments, reblogs, shares and likes are super appreciated, thank you! :) (p.s I didn’t really proofread this as much because I was getting self conscious and yeah. Happy reading!)

Word count: 1,698.

Masterlist

It was a Friday night and you were lounging in your apartment feeling like the absolute scum of the earth over bouts of insecurity arising in you over some comments made about you throughout the past few weeks.

Comments about how Wanda was too good for you.

How she was way out of your league and how people were clueless as to why she was with you. How a stunning woman like her, could be with someone as simple looking as you.

Thoughts that you yourself have had with your girlfriend basically being a walking goddess and all, how could you not let your mind stray to think those things when you've seen firsthand more attractive people vying for her attention.

So there you were feeling like utter shit while playing video games, when a call from an unknown number came into your phone.

"Hello?" You answer cautiously.

"Y/N?" You hear exclaimed through the phone, having a hard time hearing due to the music blasting from the other side of the call.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's me, who is this?" You ask not immediately recognizing the voice.

"Hey, it's me, Nat," the voice supplies, "my phone died so I'm using someone else's. Anyway, so you know how we went out to the bar to grab a few drinks? Well, as we were making our way back to your place, your girlfriend found a club and made her way inside. She's on the dance floor crying, she won't let me take her home, she wants you," Natasha yells through the speaker causing you to immediately stand up and begin looking for your keys.

"Is she okay?" You ask worriedly, your movements halting momentarily.

"Yeah, yeah, she's fine, just super drunk," Natasha says, her voice muffled by the sounds around her. "Hey, no Wanda, get off of there, you can't do that!" You suddenly hear Natasha say and you hurry your movements once again, "listen, we're at the Avengers Night Club in uptown, it’s not too far from your place so there's no rush, but the faster you're here, the better. So please, don't take too long," the redhead pleads and you nod, realizing after a moment she can't see you.

"Uh, yeah, don't worry. I'll be there as soon as I can, thank you Nat," you say appreciatively.

"No worries, see you soon," she replies breathless, "Wanda, oh my god, no you can't eat that, that's a candle-" you hear suddenly and the call disconnects.

When you locate your keys you hastily make your way out of your apartment and into your car. The 10 minute drive to the club feeling eternal.

When you finally reach your destination you park your car and make your way inside the club, immediately finding Natasha.

"Nat!" You exclaim over the music.

"Hey!" The redhead turns to greet you pulling you into a hug.

"Where is she?" You ask Wanda's best friend when you pull back.

The shorter woman frowns, "wait, what the fuck, she was just here a minute ago!" She yells over the music, eyes scanning the club and immediately landing on your girlfriend that is taking shots with a group of people across the bar from where you stand, "there she is!" Natasha says, finger pointing in Wanda's direction.

Once you spot her you nod and with Natasha make your way towards your girlfriend, trying your best not to bump into people in the process. As soon as you reach Wanda, you immediately realize she is much drunker than you have ever seen her be in the two years that you've been together.

"Hey Wanda, Y/N is here, let's get you home," Natasha says as she gathers your girlfriend into her arms.

"That's not gonna work Natty, I know she's not here, you've been saying that all night you little liar," Wanda singsongs, bopping Natasha's nose, causing the redhead to roll her eyes in annoyed amusement.

"I'm serious Wands, she's right there," Natasha says as she turns the redhead to face you.

"Oh, my god! Baby!" Wanda exclaims excitedly, hands thrown up in the air, a drunken smile on her lips.

"Hey Max," you greet with an amused chuckle.

"New friends, hey, hey," Wanda says, waving at the other patrons she was drinking with, "this is my amazingly beautiful girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N," she beams, pulling you in by your waist to introduce you to the group of strangers.

"Hey!" The group exclaimed loudly.

"Hey," you say softly, waving shyly at the sudden attention.

"Aren't you just the cutest thing," you hear Wanda say, turning to face her and you see green eyes glossed over with adoration and love, "my beautiful baby, my stunning lover, I love you so much," she yells, voice full of affection.

"How much have you had to drink, amor?" You ask, blushing red.

"I'm not drunk," Wanda slurs, and you raise a challenging eyebrow, "okay, I am drunk. Drunk in love," she says with a dopey smile.

You shake your head, "okay, you're definitely wasted," you say with a laugh.

"No. No, I'm not baby. You really are my beautiful lover. So so beautiful," she pouts, hands cradling your face as tears gloss over in her green eyes. "I really wish you could see yourself the way I see you my love, because you're so stunning. You think I'm the most beautiful person you've ever seen, but that's bullshit! You are the most beautiful person ever! You're so amazing Y/N, you make me so happy and you're so nice, all my friends love you, you treat me like a queen. You're perfect," Wanda says, tears rolling down her face, "I just- I love you so much," she says as she begins sobbing into her hands.

"Okay amor mio, let's get you going," you say, gathering Wanda into your arms as you begin to make your way out of the nightclub. "Hey Nat you good, do you need a ride or something?" You ask the redhead once you make it outside.

"No, I'm good, I think I might stay a little longer, I definitely just saw someone check me out and I want to see where that goes," she smirks and you chuckle, "you just get home safe and call me if you need me alright?" Natasha says as she pulls you and your girlfriend into a hug.

"Yeah sure, thank you," you say appreciatively, "and if you need anything please don't hesitate to call," the redhead nods her head and makes her way back into the club as you walk to your car. After placing Wanda in the passenger side, you buckle her in and make the drive back to your apartment.

Getting Wanda into your home seems to be a much more difficult task than you anticipated, the redhead more asleep than awake to properly walk, the alcohol in her system causing her to slightly sway back and forth as you take her up to the apartment.

Once you make it inside you take Wanda to your room, laying her down softly on the bed as you begin her nightly routine.

First you take off her shoes, placing them in your closet. Then you grab one of your t-shirts for her to sleep in. Taking off her dress being nearly impossible as Wanda softly snores.

Once you complete your mission and dress your girlfriend you make your way to your bathroom to grab some makeup removing wipes. As you sit beside your girlfriend you begin gently cleaning off the make-up Wanda wore, your soft swipes across her face causing the redhead to stir awake.

"Hmm, baby, what are you doing?" Wanda asks, voice thick, full of sleep.

"Just taking your makeup off amor, go back to sleep," you whisper, continuing with your task.

"It's okay, leave it on, just lay with me," your girlfriend pouts, tugging on your arm to pull you into bed beside her and you chuckle softly.

"I will in a bit Max, let me just take this off so you can sleep comfortably," you smile as Wanda's eyes slowly open, unshed tears building in her beautiful green eyes. "Hey. Hey, what's wrong?" You ask slowly, a look of confusion on your face at your girlfriend's sudden change in mood.

"You're so good to me baby. So good," Wanda whispers, tears pouring down her face.

Cupping her face gently you wipe her tears away, "hey, none of that Wands, you're my girl. I love taking care of you and you do the same for me, so it's all good," you say smiling softly.

“I don't know what I did to deserve you, but you're everything to me,” Wanda sobs, voice full of emotion, "and don't think I haven't noticed how in your head you have gotten as of late. I know you, and I know what people have been saying has been affecting you. But just know that I put them in their place and that I love you and only you detka, I don't care what they have to say, you are my person and they can all fuck off if they think you’re no good for me, because they don’t know you the way I do,” she monologues. “They don’t know how truly happy you make me. They don’t know how well you take care of me. They don’t know that just by being with you it makes me want to be a better person. They don’t know anything, my love,” she says and you let out a sob.

“God, I love you so much Max, you don’t know how happy I am to hear you say that,” you say, crying.

“You’re it for me detka, before you I wasn’t truly living, it’s like everything was preparing me for this moment, now come on, get in bed, let’s go to sleep,” Wanda says as she takes your hands, pulling you into the space beside her.

As you crawl in behind her, you wrap your arms around her frame, “I love you Wanda,” you whisper, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead.

“I love you, my love,” she replies before you both drift off to sleep.

[dilf-docs]

It Always Leads To You

joel miller x younger fem!reader

summary: it's been a year; now you're back. how can joel be so sure of those old summer feelings in your eyes when there's a new hand holding yours?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, toxic relationship, cheating and infidelity themes, mutual pinning, kinda dark!joel, smut, p. in v., pussy pronouns, oral (f. receiving), fingering, manhandling, lowkey forced creampie, ANGST, the taylor swift evermore (2020) references go wild, happy ending cause y'all weak asses voted for it and i love to keep my citizens happy!

word count: 5,199 words

side note: my joel miller era is alive and breathing after this tlou re-watch i'm doing my brother swears it's for him but it's mostly me and my fic/womanly reasons, yes we love gaslight girlkeep girlbossing in here gotta say, finding inspiration for this amidst my wattpad duties and christmas movie marathon was harder than i thought lol. was it worth the wait? please like, comment and reblog to let me know! it's based on this request (they're still open btw!)

part: I / II

Holidays linger like bad perfume.

Your eyes wander through the streets: the roads you've got to call home, the ones where you grew up. They're familiar, but so foreign, it's hard to believe they're the same ones where you scrapped your knees at ten and kissed Joel just last winter. It's as if both timelines, your life, feels more like two separate lives, miles apart.

"Hey, you okay?" tender, from the driver's seat; you're still getting used to the soft.

There's a reassuring smile your way, his hand finding yours to give it a squeeze. You notice his palm is the same size as yours. It fits perfectly, but there's a ghost of what it feels like to have it all wrapped up, looming over your itchy palm like all the yearning's a joke.

You nod. "Just tired. That's all"

He sighs. "If I wanted you to lie to me, I would've just asked"

"I'm not lying" you defend yourself as his pickup truck parks on the sidewalk.

He makes a funny face, and you laugh.

"I'm serious, Nick" your lips purse, a thing you do when you lie, yet he still hadn't noticed, like Joel. "Don't worry"

He doesn't look that convinced, so you take off your seat belt and grab his hand.

"C'mon. Mom and dad must be waiting for us"

"Hey" Nick calls you out.

"Yeah?"

"Who lives there?" and he's pointing behind you.

It's his. Joel's house.

"A friend of my dad's" you answer, dryly.

It was last december when you stood there in his porch, begging. It feels like time has stopped ever since, and you're still right where he left you.

"So will he be here?" Nick asks. "You know, since he knows your dad"

"Don't think so" you shrug, "he's got better things to do anyway. Bitter old man" comes out, with more venom than intended.

"Oh! Alright, sorry for asking"

You come back to your senses, realizing you've shared more than you should.

"No, I'm sorry. It's not that important; let's just go inside"

Your mom and dad greet you as soon as you cross the door. Last year, you'd basically fled away before New Year's, with a poor excuse and a broken heart. They both greet you as if nothing happened, although you're sure they remember your tear streamed face coming back from Joel's house, where it all ended.

As your mom corners Nick with kisses and embarrassing questions, your dad whispers to you:

"Joel asked what happened" you quirk and eyebrow, "wanted to know why you left"

"Eh, it's not important" you try to dismiss. "Definitely not as important for a guy like Joel to know"

"What is that supposed to mean?" your dad inquires. You often wonder if they knew.

"Nothing" you laugh nervously. "Listen, why don't you go and meet Nick, yeah? Did you know he likes fishing too?"

The distraction works with your dad; the same can't be said about you.

There's conversation flowing, but through the snow covered window, your eyes keep glancing back to his own. The view is dark, and you ponder if he's fled as well, the town plagued with memories too painful to reminisce.

You can still feel his hands roaming your body, the lust filled gaze that hid warmth. Every time he touches you, you have to remind you he isn't there: that the lips that kiss you, don't taste like his, that the hands that hold you, aren't big as his, and that the face that looks at you like they'll never choose another, is one you haven't learned to love yet.

Joel's memory cuts like thorns: they sink their teeth into your heart, that bleeds with that blood-colored sadness you're all too familiar with. He's poisoned you. But-- isn't it his love also the antidote for this disease he's gave you?

You abruptly stand up, plate half eaten.

"I-I need some air"

It's cold outside, but you don't care. All you want to do is sit on the porch, and drop some tears, something you can do inside too, but the fear of your muffled cries being able to be heard stops you.

You walk towards the stairs, to sit there like you do on summer days, yet there's now a difference: the snow. So you end up slipping, falling with your butt on the floor.

You yelp, embarrased although no one can see you.

"Need help?"

That you're wrong, apparently.

You don't even need to raise your view to know who that voice belongs to: you know it like a record, spinning in circles on your head.

He offers his strong hand your way, and although the cold wind hits your face, you're back to spring on the cabin: wet feet, bright sun and beating heart.

"I can get up myself" you reject his help, pushing the hand out. You keep avoiding his gaze, so you don't see how he's reacted, yet you hope he feels bad about it.

You walk up to the front door, and it takes you a while to realize he hasn't left yet. On top of that, it seems like he's following you. Just what you needed.

"What are you doing here?" you question, but your tone sounds like you're offended.

"Your folks invited me over" Joel answers, "Says they got a special guest"

"Yeah" this time, you do look back, finding him to be much closer than you thought he'd be. Yet you stand tall, defiant even. "It's my boyfriend"

You savour the way his expression falters, before the stoic façade takes over again.

"Boyfriend?" Joel scoffs, as if you just told the funniest joke ever.

"Is that supposed to be funny?" you bite back. "What? Think a pretty girl can't get a new man?"

"Never said I'd doubt'it" he clicks his tongue. "Y'a could get any man you'd want, sugar"

Ironically, the only man you want stands before you.

"Right" you chuckle dryly, "I think it's kind of funny of you to say that"

Joel's eyes bore into yours, a clash of emotions circling in his chocolate orbs.

"Y/n-"

"Don't" you stop him. Then sigh, defeated. "Let's just go inside"

As soon as you both arrive on the dinning room, your parents both greet Joel. Then, they introduce him to their guest, just as promised.

"Joel, this is Nick, y/n's boyfriend" your father speaks. "Nick, this is Joel, a dear old friend of mine"

Nick, as the gentleman he is, offers his hand. Joel accepts, but you can see the barely desguised displease behind his eyes.

"Wow, strong grip" Nick comments before joking, "you can let go now, I'm not going anywhere"

The hidden meaning of his words, whether intentional or not, hit Joel in the face. It's obvious by the way he backtracks, letting go of Nick's hand.

As you sit again, Nick leans to your side and whispers.

"Is this the guy who lives in the house across the street?" you nod. "Thought you'd said he had better plans. But, see? I told you: no plan's more important than coming to your house"

He's always making jokes, trying to make you smile, but it's done the opposite now. The food has gone cold long ago, yet you cut through the meat with a violence so palpable, even your mom tells you to slow down.

The nerve of Joel, showing up to your house like it's nothing, talking to you like he's unaware of his spell on you, acting like Nick is some sort of competition when he pulled out of the race himself a winter ago.

"So, Nick. How did you two meet?" your mom adresses him, eager to know details.

"It was at a party, actually, through mutual friends. Not a very spectacular story, that I know. What's funny is, she asked me what hour it was. And what did I say?"

"He didn't answer my question. Instead, he said: For you, I'm available any hour" you answer.

Your parents laugh, but Joel remains quiet. You wonder what he's thinking.

"You know" looking at Nick while cutting the steamed vegetables a little too agressive, "y/n actually hates parties"

"Joel" you warn through gritted teeth.

"Really? I didn't know that!" Nick seems so genuine, Joel can't help but hate him. He looks at you, concerned "You didn't tell me"

You can't believe he would rat you out like that. The appropiate word isn't hate, and you don't know how to describe it, but parties aren't really your environment; if you can, you'd choose to be anywhere else.

He'll pay for that.

"Joel" you seethe, an ugly smile painted in your features, "did you know Nick knows how to fish?"

It's a direct jab at him. He feels stupid for letting you get to him. The inferiority complex towards some random guy he just met, years younger, is actually laughable.

"I like-" Nick wants to add on that.

"Well" Joel interrupts, looking at you. "You never taught me like ya' were s'pposed to"

"You never cared to learn" you reply, acidic.

He sips his drink, trying to hide the smirk that's formed on his lips. You can't shut up, and he loves you've stayed the same.

"That means I've got some classes to take" Joel leans back on his chair, relaxed like he's won this round. "Just tell me when"

The tension cuts like the storm that's just formed outside.

"You should stay over, Joel" your dad offers when he takes a peak at the climate, "it's too dangerous outside"

Joel seems indestructible, like not even a snow blizzard could pierce through the rough old man. But he agrees, much to your dismay.

It's probably midnight already, and all you've done is toss around the bed. Nick peacefully snores next to you, and you envy how easily he falls asleep. You've always find it hard to sleep, the nighttime plagued with too many loud thoughts that fill the silence.

You get up carefully, heading downstairs for some water. You sip with tranquility when a noise jolts you from your sit.

The wooden floor creaks, making you aware you're not alone anymore.

"Can't sleep?"

You don't answer, seeing his sturdy figure emerge from the shadows until the dim moonlight shines over his aging features. Silence settles in. Outside, the wind howls, bumping against the windows with violence, like your heart does now against your chest.

"Not much of a talker, are you?"

"There's nothing to talk" cuts your response through the thick tension, the air suddenly suffocating.

You take another sip, but the tremble of your hand doesn't go unnoticed by Miller.

"Right" Joel sits next to you, on the kitchen island. "Won't even look at me, sugar? You've got eyes" his voice drops, "use 'em"

"What are you doing, Joel?" you ask looking at him, tears threatening to spill, making your bright eyes shimmer with pain.

He gets up abruptly, like he's woken up from a trance. He's seen his own pain on your eyes, and he hates it.

"Joel?" you ask again, demanding but softly.

He can't answer. Instead, he leaves.

"Goodnight, y/n" voice raw, many emotions boiling, hidden on the inside. It hurts.

If you hadn't changed, Joel too stayed the same.

A goddamn coward.

Two days have passed since, and now it's Christmas Eve.

You kneel, putting the presents under the tree. Normally, your parents would have much more people around for the holidays, but thanks to the storm, it's just them, Nick, Joel and you.

"I'm gonna miss Mrs. Stone's cookies" you pout, "I wish she could be here"

"It's a big loss for tonight" your dad sighs. "Next time, yeah? Christmas will come again faster than you think"

You nod, still absent as he walks away.

"Hey" Joel pops up behind, seemingly from nowhere.

"Hey" you reply, voice laced with tiredness just at the sight of him. How will you manage to survive until New Year's? You have no idea, the task harder if he's staying in the same house as you are.

"Put this in there, will ya'?"

He hands you a box, neatly wrapped up. What stands out the most is the silver bow on top. Your stomach drops: it's your favorite color.

"Y-yeah" you stammer. When the present falls in your hands, you notice it looks like Joel did it himself.

"Didn't know you were capable of nice things" you whisper. There's no anger in your voice, only loss.

"I'm trying" is what he says, before leaving you alone. Until then, you realize he had been touching you, the skin where his hand was on your shoulder burning.

Dinner goes by swiftly, conversation flowing easily courtesy of Nick and your father, who both have in common the love for talking. It may be your brain messing with you, but his eyes never leave you, fixated on your every move, savoring when your lips open and take a bite; when you lick them afterwards, salt in your mouth he'd love to take off in a movement of his tongue. The ghost of your lips haunts him, cruelly playing with his yearning now that he's got you across the table. It's a few centimeters, really, but it feels like you're miles away: and it's his fault. You're no longer his, and he's reminded of it every time your boyfriend kisses what he once had.

Now it's time to open the presents, and you excitedly raise your hand to go first.

"Alright, sweetheart. You know I can't deny you anything" your father beams, "go ahead. Choose any present you'd like to open first"

Joel's eyes are on you, and you know he's desperately waiting for you to open his first. Maybe partly in courage, maybe partly in fear, but you choose Nick's first: something safe to start with.

"That's mine!" he chirps, and Joel mockingly imitates his kid-like joy under his breath.

You unwrap the present, finding a small box inside.

"Please, don't be another box" you joke, and he laughs.

"You think that low of me? Please"

You keep unwrapping and find a bag. The bag has a small tag that reads: Gotcha.

"Nick! God, you're so corny" you tease as you open the bag. Inside, there's a velvet box, and by the looks of it, you can tell it's jewelry. You gasp, pulling out a silver charm tied to a silver thin chain: it's a marlin fish. "Nick..."

"I know. Marlin isn't your favorite fish, but that's all I could find" you get up, wrapping him on a tight hug. Aware you've got an audience, he leans and whispers "I knew fishing was special to you, because of your dad and childhood. Maybe now" he takes it from your hands, carefully putting it around your neck, "it can also be our special thing"

Joel sees the scene unfold in front of him, his grip tight on the cloth of his jeans until it's white. His jaw clenches at the affection display; all he sees is red.

"What about that one?" your mom points out Joel's present. A pit of nerves forms in your stomach. "I don't remember seeing it there"

Before you can grab it, your dad moves faster, examining the box on his hands.

"It's Joel's" he makes a pause, "for y/n"

You pretend to be shocked, and you can tell Nick tenses at your side.

"You didn't tell me you were close"

"Used to" you correct quickly, despite the knot on your throat. "Not anymore"

"He still got you a present, though"

You don't get to answer because your dad leaves the box on your lap.

"Open it" it's soft but feels threathing for some reason, "I'm curious"

Joel's resting hands tremble as much as yours while you open the present. You reveal the simple white box under the wrap, opening it up.

Your voice comes out shaky as you call his name. And he can see it: the muffled laughters on the shed, the warmth of the cabin's fire, the fogged up windows of his car, the bruises on your tits and that voice, so vulnerable, he can see you on his porch, saying those three words that terrified him so much, his solution was breaking your heart.

"What is it?" your dad asks.

"It's a scarf" the fabric tickles your fingers that wander through the loose strands.

You remember it all too well.

"Oh, it's vintage!" your mom comments when she sees the worn-out aspect.

But just as your affair with Joel, you keep the secret of it's real owner.

"It's perfect" you mutter, remembering better times: ones where he'd wrap the scarf colored as the leaves on the ground around your neck, covering bruises he'd just made while you joked you'd steal it, and Joel would say he'd just let you, that it looked better on you anyway.

You've forgotten the good, so used to thinking of Joel at your worst, like a punishment to endure and sink your shipwreck even deeper. You felt lost, replaying memories that seemed stuck on a loop. Since last december, all you've known is pain; creeping up through the cracks in your fleeting happiness, one you've tried to find to no avail. One day, past the curses and cries, maybe there'll be happiness. But as for now, that day seems terribly far.

As he sees your teary gaze, Joel often wonders were it went wrong. When did hurt was all you had for him in that gaze of yours he can't bare to look that long, not before he's reliving all those seasons by your side, replaying his footsteps on the snow, grass, water and fallen leaves, trying to find the one where it all went wrong. The torture he now wears like a second skin, his agony painted words addressed to the fire of a house that feels so empty and alone.

"We should continue" your dad speaks over the silence, "there are still many presents left"

The night moves slowly, and the scarf you've chosen to wear is now suffocating around your neck. But you can't take it off. This is the closest you've been to Joel on a year; it still smells like him. As the presents run out, you excuse yourself early to bed, only to wake up again in the middle of the night. You want to pee, so you exit your room and walk to the bathroom, your bare feet against the cold wood sending shivers down your spine that only seem to augment when you walk past his door, next to the bathroom. After being done, you splash some water on your face, as if that would make some sense get to you.

"What are you doing?" you ask yourself in the mirror. Your tired reflection stares back at you, in silence.

You open the door, ready to go back to bed when a hand covers your mouth and shoves you inside.

"Don't scream" your cries go muffled against his hand, the calloused digits pressing against your soft skin, "wanna wake 'em up?"

You shake your head, so he lets your mouth free.

"Joel" you call out, but he's facing the door, his back all you see. No sound can be heard, aside from his uneven breaths.

"I'm sorry" he says, and then you hear the small click of the door's lock.

"What the hell?"

This time, he faces you, but his movements are so quick you don't register his lips on yours until it's too late. He kisses you like a starved man who hasn't had a meal in years, eating you out while your body acts up on it's own, the urgency embarrasing even.

"No" you pull back. Your mind screams in guilt at how much you want this, and that's all you can hear aside from his ragged breaths.

"No?"

"It isn't fair"

"To lover boy out there?" he teases, "I know he ain't treating you right, or ya' wouldn't look me the way ya' do"

"Don't, Joel" your tone is icy, "Nick treats me better than you ever could"

He laughs, darkly. "You know I ain't meant that" he corners you against the sink, the material cold against your bare legs; you don't sleep with nothing but an oversized t-shirt, despite the weather.

"Riddle me this, sugar: if he treats you so well, why are you so fucking wet?"

Your heart beats so fast you fear you'll die. He gets closer, his hot breathe prickling against your ear.

"It takes a man to please a woman" he tucks a loose strand behind your ear, "and I ain't leaving my baby displeased"

His fingers pull down the panties until your clit is exposed.

"Look at 'er" he traces a teasing finger over the puffy skin, coated on your slick "missed me, didn't she? Gonna treat 'er so good, she won't ever feel lonely again"

He softly kisses your neck, the trepidation and regret tying your stomach in knots.

Joel teases your needy core with his finger.

"Tell you somethin', sugar" Joel finds it hard to hide his adoration, "I missed 'er too"

He stares into your eyes while pushing two rough fingers inside your cunt. You bite your lip, holding back your moans.

"Need summ help?" he kisses you roughly, smirking when he feels your shaky breath against his lips. He pushes them in and out faster, making your walls squeeze tightly around his fingers.

"Did he ever have you comin' this fast? I'ont think so" he whispers against your neck. You whisper his name through labored breaths, making a smug smile adorn his features. "Good girl"

He proceeds to kneel down, despite the creak of his bones. You see him leave a trail of kisses down your thighs, your legs opening wider in response. His tongue gives rapid flickers against your sensitive bud, aware of the lack of time. He slurps the pulsing cunt, his head moving back and forth while he sucks, coating his moustache on your juices. Joel goes back to the quick movements, tongue knowing your spots and twisting fingers as aid, causing your back to arch.

"Fuck" you curse as you come, gripping the sink a bit too tight.

Joel then pulls away and places his fingers coated in your arousal in his mouth and licks them. He sees the obscene display in the fogged mirror, satisfied.

"Goodnight, sugar" Joel bids goodbye like it's nothing, kissing your lips that taste like you. "Still as sweet as ever"

It's New Year's Eve.

"You're leaving?" you sound so sad, Joel can't help but scoff. In the end, he'd stayed long after the storm had passed, your father arguing holidays weren't meant to be spent alone. So he stayed.

And now, Nick is leaving.

"I'm sorry" he apologizes for the millionth time, "but granny is sick. I don't know if she'll make it another year, so say the doctors. I would love to stay, really, but I have to be with her"

You understand, having lost your grandad years ago. But that doesn't mean you're okay with it: Nick leaving means a clear path for Joel, who didn't stop with him sleeping next room, and certainly won't now, despite not having interacted with you since he ate you out on the bathroom.

He pulls you into a long hug and a kiss that doesn't feel the same anymore. "Will you be okay?"

"Yeah" you nod, "I'll miss you though"

"Well, I'll be all yours when you get back"

You smile but it doesn't reach your eyes.

"See you, y/n. I love you"

Your lips purse after you utter those three words back.

Later at night, the house is filled with guests. The lively environment is restored, and you feel less confined to Joel's claws, so many faces to speak and distract yourself with, compared to Christmas and the past couple of days. You clutch the marlin charm tightly, mind busy wandering to places it shouldn't. Joel stares at you from across the room, eyes trained on you as he sips his drink calmly, like he's won; you don't know why he's keeping score if he already knows it. You wander off to the kitchen, and Joel follows you.

"You have to stop" you speak as soon as he enters, aware he would follow you.

"I ain't do shit"

You turn around, facing him. "Bullshit, Joel"

"Tell me, what'd I do?" he comes closer, and despite your erratic heart and fear, you stay still; challenging.

"You did this, Joel" his expression falters for a second, the weight of last december's crimes dawning on him. "Don't try to make me feel guilty"

"I ain't. That wasn't your fault" he sighs, breath dragging long like a cigarrette. "But this" he motions with his hands the reduced distance, "this it is"

Your breath hitches.

"We can't keep doing this, Joel. Nick doesn't deserve it"

He pins you against the counter with force, gripping the skin of your wrists until you're sure you'll get a bruise. Joel's eyes darken at the thought of your frail and soft body under his rough figure and belly, his strength and your weakness making the job of putting you under his will, so much easier.

"Don't say his name" he whispers, his breath laced with alcohol, "he ain't here anymore. Ain't nothing to stop me now, right, sugar?" Joel purrs as he steps towards you, taking your face in his hands before starting a heated kiss, making you stumble.

This was so wrong, but it felt so right, the missing pieces falling like dominoes.

He was your pain divine: you needed his hurt to bleed and feel alive again. Maybe the red of the blood and the blue of your sadness could paint your darkest grey skies with a happiness you've craved since you lost him.

"Tell me to stop" Joel whispers, tempting like a devil as he kisses down your neck, littering it with hickeys.

"Don't"

Next thing you know, you're excusing yourself upstairs and then Joel goes missing too, both inside of your bedroom.

Your dress was the first thing to go.

"Wear it for me?" you're about to answer, lips pursing, but he cuts you off, "and don't lie, sugar. Don't get too used to the bad girl schtick"

"I only wore this dress so you could take it off"

He kisses you desperately, legs wrapped around his waist while he carries you to bed, and the memories of your first flood you as he drops you down to your back, watching the way you bounce. He has you just like he wanted: moaning his name while he leaves tender kisses on the soft bare flesh.

"Joel-" you gasp. Despite the chatter downstairs and music, you try to remain low as he wraps his lips around your nipples. He then moves to your breasts, covering them with his kisses and hickeys. He hadn't touched a woman ever since you left, the feeling of the rosy innocent skin on his rough teeth making him loose all common sense, the real thing even better than what he would try to conjure when he fucked himself in the bathroom at the memory of you.

He groans when he feels your hands roaming over his back, nails digging on the scarred skin.

"Someone's eager" he teases, seeing your damp underwear. "Is this 'cause of me?" you don't answer, too busy removing the cloth, only for his strong fingers to grab you and stop you. "Don't be shy, answer baby. We got a whole new year, yeah?"

"I need you Joel" you whine, not laughing at the joke "cut the crap"

He pushes you gently back down to the bed. "So needy sugar, want me to help ya'?"

You eagerly nod, making him laugh. But there's no mock, only love behind the sound.

"Will you let this old man take care of ya', pretty baby? Just use your words, and I'll be all y'rs"

"Do it, Joel. Just do it"

You gasp as your folds begin to be prodded open by the fat head of Joel's cock. You curse, feeling him push in just the tip, the sweet burn of your walls welcoming his size making you grab his arms that stand at the sides of your body, caging you in.

His tummy pushes against your stomach as he adjusts himself, his weight sinking your body on the creaking matress.

"'S just the tip, ready for the whole thing?"

You needed him, all of him.

"Yes, Joel. I want you" You say and he pushes in slowly, feeling his cock fill up every empty space that craved for him.

You squeeze your eyes shut as his hips roll back pulling out about halfway before rocking back in. His sloppy thrusts pick up a familiar pace that makes you moan and beg for more, head falling against the sheets as his pace speds up until he's fucking you senseless.

Joel's brain goes blank at the sight of you creaming on his dick and the obscene sounds leaving your pretty mouth. Did he really give this up? He'd definitely go back in time and slap the fuck out of his past self, because there is simply nothing better than having you under him, screaming his name like that's all you can ever say.

"Does he fuck you like this, huh?" Joel angles his hips, resuming his brutal pace. Your body jolts with each snap. "Is he enough for you?"

"Yes" his stomach drops, dark eyes now hesitant, "but he isn't you"

He pushes himself back in, your eyes fluttering shut almost immediately.

"Tell me you'll leave him, y/n. Look me in the eyes and tell me who ya' really belong to"

Your eyes snap open at the possesiveness clashed with jealousy that drips from his sweat-soaked lips.

The confession falls easily, as meant to be. "Yours, Joel. Always was and will be"

He could cum just at the sight of your loving doe eyes.

Downstairs, the countdown begins, but in your room, all you can hear are his soft groans and your pathetic whimpers, and if the people would stop shouting, you could probably hear the squelch of your dripping cunt sucking in his girth with each thrust.

After a few more erratic thrusts, you feel his warm cum fill you up. Joel was always obsessed with how his cum seeped out of you and around his cock. Without thinking, his rough fingers push deep in you, making you yelp as he makes sure he isn't wasting a drop behind.

The countdown ends, and fireworks erupt outside as your head rests on the crook of his sweat covered neck.

"I love ya', sugar" those words you thought you imagined that one time, now real, so goddamn real his voice quivers and eyes get tearful with grief, "'S okay if ya' don't say it. I just wanted you to hear 'em. 'M just tired of wastin' my time"

He wraps your lips with his with tenderness you had only dreamed of. There is still a lot to talk and heal, but this time, his arms hold you like a promise. And you let yourself believe it.

Y/n's New Years' purposes: 1. Break up with Nick 2. Try to explain this seasonal mess to mom and dad 3. At last, try to be happy

[zombie-bait]

As an animation student I absolutely hate live action adaptations like the ones Disney's been churning out the last few years. They strip away all the artistic intent of the original pieces of media and turn them into grey, heavily cgi-ed experiences that don't even carry a quarter of the whimsy. The purpose behind these adaptations isn't to fully utilize a new medium and find a unique way of retelling the original story, it's just to make money.

Imagine you see a painting, let's say The Mona Lisa. Now, you can put on a black wig, pose in front of the countryside and take a selfie in the same pose. Is it fun? Yeah, sure. It's the kind of thing you can send to your friends or maybe post on an account. But to argue it is superior somehow because it's "real" is an insult. You could spend thousands of dollars on makeup, cameras and lighting but still, it will not carry the same cultural impact. It can't.

And don't get me wrong, photography and cinematography are 100% an art form. You can do beautiful things with a camera that cannot be done through any other media. Cosplay is another beautiful example of artists bringing their creative interpretations of characters into the real world. People who do those should be admired and appreciated. But we know that's not what's happening here.

You might not think The Little Mermaid (1989) or Beauty and the Beast (1991) are as artistically valuable as something like The Mona Lisa. That's the thing about art, no one really gets to decide what piece of art is or isn't superior to another. But all three are definitively intentional art. It doesn't matter if you're an overworked in-betweener for a mega-corporation in the 90's or a famous renaissance painter working on a portrait. Either way, you're pouring a little bit of yourself into your creation. Every choice you make has intent behind it and years of hard work, even if you're not conscious of that.

These adaptations are an expensive selfie boasted around as a superior product. Because that's all they are, products imitating art. You end up losing those intentional choices somewhere along the way as hand-picked colours, distinct silhouettes and visual storytelling all get dulled into the same "realistic" shape. And children deserve better. Not just because exploiting families by rereleasing content is scummy, but because I whole-heartedly believe that children deserve artistically rich, complex stories. Almost every animation student and professional that I know got where they are because they were inspired by something. Maybe it was Beauty and the Beast or My Little Pony or Animaniacs or How to Train Your Dragon. But there's something immensely powerful about being a little kid and being shown a completely new, beautiful way to imagine and interpret the world. And you find yourself sketching day and night to replicate that interpretation until suddenly you're creating something new, with intention, that's never been made before.

I'm sure there are plenty of kids who like movies with realistic-looking animals. But the animals aren't realistic because these corporations thought kids would enjoy them, they're realistic because studios executives that don't actually give a shit about art or animation think they are more visually impressive and needed to come up with an excuse to recycle content instead of daring to do anything new. They don't care about artists, they care about consumers.

Since we keep getting "live action" CGI remakes of already perfectly adequate animated movies, and because people need to understand that animation is a medium and not a genre, I have prepared this primer about the importance of Visual Language for Conveying Information.

Can you tell what the personalities of these two mice are?

Can you tell now?

Which of these two tigers feels safer to be around?

Which of these three dogs is the funniest one?

If you can answer these questions, then you already have experience with the idea of visual language and stylistic choices being used to impart narrative meaning. If you can understand why these choices were made to impart meaning, then you can understand why animation is a medium for telling stories that has its own inherent value, and is not merely a "placeholder" for the eventual implementation of photorealistic presentation (aka "Live Action" CGI). Animation does not need to be "corrected" or "legitimized" by remaking it into the most representational simulation of observable reality.

[codnasties]

Hear me out...soap strikes me as a very vocal man in bed. So, imagine him fucking you and just moaning groaning panting about how he's close...me thinks 🤭

yesyesyeysyes this man is LOUD

very vocal soap 🧼 (🌽 link)

i believe it's no secret that soap is a noisy fucker, continuously chattering even in the most serious moments and his voice booming all over the room when he's there. and as a loud man, he's going to find himself a pretty thing that's just as loud as him.

someone to mach his rowdy self. in every way possible, not just in your every day life, but also in bed. because he needs someone to match his unstoppeable groans, pants ans moans when he's fucking you.

however, as much as this mas tries to pleasure you, fuck his hard cock into your wet pussy and making you cum again and again until he brings you to overstimulation and makes you squirt all over the bed, your moans and whimpers don't cover up his own.

and you are blessed by it. because what's better than those raspy groans that are leaving his mouth as it is right next to your ear or those desperate moans that he can't hold back when he's getting close. and don't get me started on the little whimpers that surprisingly come out of thie behemonth when he gets to cum inside of you.

and worst of all, he know you love his lewd noises. that¡s why he sends you audios as he's jerking off when he's away so you get to hear them ;)

[medullamindset]

Steb on sex

NSFW

Content: Stebs relationship with sex, before meeting you and now (•‿•) tried to make Reader as GN as possible so everyone can read tyty for coming tonight hehe *checks mic*

Steb didn't really think about sex until he met you. It just didn't rattle him. It's not that he was against the idea, he just.. had better things to do. Sure he'd masturbated from time to time.. But not as much as you'd expect from a male teenager/young adult. Then he met you, and you always initiated, makeout sessions, over the clothes stuff, it was always you. Its not that Steb didn't care or that he didn't find you attractive, cuz he did, ofcourse he did.. He was just.. A liiittle stiff about it.

As time passed tho, Steb started to realize how down bad he really was for you. After a few months of getting to know eachother intimately, you'd started giving him boners.. Oftentimes you were actually in his lap, making him feel good. Which made sense. But other times he could just watch you move about, fixing yourself up after taking a shower. Lotioning your body, drying your hair with a towel, wearing something light like a t-shirt and underwear.. And his pants would get tight from just the sight alone, the sight of you.

He'd start thinking about you the nights he slept alone. Your pretty face, your satistfying voice, the way it hitched when he ran his fingers up and down your side the other day, humping you sensually. The way you looked with kiss bitten lips when he pulled away, red and glossy, eyes glazed over with need. He'd think about what you might look like with his cum painted all over that same pretty face- fuck. Hes down bad now.

Jerking off in the shower while you were cooking him something nice, his vocals masked by the sound of water droplets thudding against the bathtub harshly. Prior, you had reached over the table to grab something rather than walking around it. Steb glanced over at just the right time to see your shirt ride up, exposing your slightly arched back as you made a sound of effort. A little "mnh." As you settled back on your heels, returning to your task. Steb gulped and exused himself to "go take a shower" right then and there.

When you guys finally do have sex, Steb finally gets it. He gets it. The sight of you beneath him, face twisted into a look of pleasure, eyebrows knit together, eyes pleading and oh,.. The noises that fell from your lips will be engraved in his mind forever. The little gasps and "Ah's" as he picked up the pace, he replays them in his head every night when he cant sleep, rutting into his hand almost pathetically.. It couldn't ever compete with the way you felt wrapped around him tho, gummy walls sucking him in so eagerly, tighter with the more pleasure he gave you. In just half a year, Steb's sex drive went from a one to a solid seven out of ten. He craves you, and only you. In the shower, on the kitchen counter, cuddled up on the couch, fucking under the blankets like its a secret,.. in your bed ofcourse.... You've probably had hours of sex in every room of your place when you think about it. And Steb isn't one for "quickies", whats the point if he can't take his time with you?? give you his all. Draw as many orgasms from you as he can with teeth, tongue and fingers, preparing you for his ACHING cock. He gets so hard it nearly hurts, spending hours between your legs will do that to him, watching your reactions, ears flicking at the desparate noises you make, grabbing eagerly at your flesh, licking your sex up and down and all over, getting drunk off your juices. A quickie just wouldn't feel right..

Steb isn't that big on PDA either, he perfers doing it in the comfort of your home, hes got an image to maintain, hes an enforcer. He can't be known as that one fish officer who humped his fine shyt silly in a broom closet.. Even if it did actually happen. Cuz it does don't get me wrong, as long as you aren't somewhere literal children will see you, and hes horny enough.. Pull him away to somewhere you wont be interrupted and hes handsy straight away, pulling your shirt over your head and attacking your chest and neck with his wet tongue, lifting you and pressing you up against the wall zero effort. (...Maybe a little effort, hes kinda skinny) Steb is a stolid enforcer of few words, but behind closed doors, hes a moaning mess who likes it stickyyyy

In conclusion, Steb loves sex now, sex with YOU.

thank u and goodnight (ღ˘⌣˘ღ)

Reblogs r appreciated.. Gulp.

[olderthannetfic]

Ayyy, there seems to be a lot of older people among the regular commenters of this blog so I'm gonna shoot my shot and ask for advice.

Idk if it's just the clinical depression but I can't help but feel like I'm never gonna find love as a straight girl. I don't hate men at all -- I've been very lucky to be surrounded by decent dudes growing up but shit. Lookin at the state of the world rn... Gen Z dudes chugging misogynist bullshit at alarming rates, women like Gisele Pelicot going through unspeakable shit from their own husbands... it's hard not to feel cynical. On top of that the decent dudes I know irl are all taken, I don't wanna go on dating apps, and as much as I wanna fuck an older man no decent one is gonna settle for a depressed young woman who's a 4 at best...

It's not that i don't have fulfilling friendships or that I don't value them, I just want to love and care for (and get dicked down by) a decent guy who feels the same way. I've always wanted that and I don't think it's changing anytime soon. Feels impossible though. I'm not sure if I'm the problem (I'm plain faced at best, no fashion sense or charm to speak of, though I do my best to be polite and kind) or there's just shit going on I've no control over.

--

People will give you a lot of placating nonsense, but the reality is that the supply of reasonably okay straight women is much higher than the supply of reasonably okay straight men. Finding a fulfilling long-term relationship is always hard anyway, but man... straight guys really need to step it up.

That said, a lot of people in general and straight guys in particular learn a lot from the breakdown of their first marriage/long-term relationship. Just because a guy is listening to godawful manosphere podcasts today doesn't mean he's never going to be dateable later.

Research on dating apps suggests that your average guy responds to pics where women have a lot of makeup on by looking for a hookup, passes by the ones with no makeup, and finds the ones with a little lipstick or something but not heavy makeup the most dateable.

While it would be nice if appearance didn't matter, if you're really worried about this, there are some basic things you can do where you'll get a lot of bang for your buck: Find one lipstick you can stand and learn to apply it. I like Bésame Cosmetics because I am a nerd and they sponsored a local film noir festival. Peggy Carter's lipstick was from them. They have the advantage of being intensely pigmented, so a quick swipe gives full coverage. I hate having shit on my face in general, so that's helpful. If eye stuff is less bleurgghhhh than lip stuff, learn to apply eyeliner instead. There are some liquid ones I really like even if it takes some practice to get decent at painting them on. You don't need a full face of makeup or really much of anything to read as Hot Girl™ to people who don't know anything about makeup and aren't paying much attention. Yes, even if you're a 4 and it's not just the depression talking.

Charm is hard. Some things can be taught, but a lot of that's innate. Fashion, however, is not. You don't need to be a fashionista to look better than a lot of the people around you. Save your money for fewer, better outfits. Buy things that fit well and get things tailored. Don't settle for ill-fitting clothes that don't make you feel good. Look for natural fibers and clothing that will last a long time. (And if you think you have sensitive skin that cannot handle natural fibers, you need to go up several price points on your cotton. Just saying.)

You can also increase your chances by doing activities where you meet more people who might be a good match. This means finding hobbies that actually have straight guys in them and going to in-person things where you meet new people. (This sounds obvious and pedantic, but I cannot tell you how many women I know who want a boyfriend but only do social things that are 95% women and 5% gay men.)

But the biggest thing you can do to stand out is... well... work on that depression. Self confidence and obviously being in a good place in your life are very attractive. Also, the good catches who haven't been snapped up tend to be the quiet, shy people. If you have your own shit together enough to detect and pursue them, you have a better chance of finding someone great.

I get that ~fix your depression~ is not helpful advice, but working on yourself in both important and relatively superficial ways is something you can control. Meeting the right person is not.

It might help to look at this as a 5-10-year goal and/or a lifetime goal, not a "Oh my god, my life sucks this year" problem. Yes, there's shit going on that you have no control over, but if that's your career and mental health and so on, you can work on that and be in a different place in a few years.

Frankly, I think a certain amount of cynicism is warranted, but that doesn't mean there are no decent guys or that you'll never find one.

[hhbluedynamite]

...Oh, dear God...

Do I have some words to say to those people villainizing these characters...

First and foremost, I haven't seen much of Beastars (I think I've only seen the first four episodes), am barely involved in the Sonic franchise, never seen Homestuck, and don't watch...whatever show that lady is in (Doctor Who?), so I can't really say anything for the characters from those shows.

But as for the others...

Mabel: A...CHILD!!! Children are inherently selfish! It makes sense for her to act the way she does (and Dipper's the same way! He's selfish too!). She was also MANIPULATED BY A LITERAL DEMON to give him a very dangerous portal that she had no knowledge of its importance because such knowledge was withheld from her! But what about Dippy Fresh? She's basically replacing Dipper! Mabel didn't make Dippy Fresh! It was Mabelland! And she was also under its influence too! Mabel Pines was a literal child! You are villainizing a kid for being a kid who was scared of change and growing up (something I relate to, honestly)

Rose Quartz/PD: Oh boy...where to start. Before abandoning her old life, Rose was emotionally abused by the very Gems that were basically her sisters/mother! She was belittled, neglected, felt like she had no place there despite wanting to be a part of what was basically the family business. Did Rose make questionable decisions? Oh, yeah. Big time. But, does that make her a bad person? Hell, no. She's just flawed. Which is a very...human thing.

Beatrice: ...Really? People are villainizing her? Have they not played her route? She's frustrated that she's stuck in a small dying town, she lost her mom to cancer like two years before the main story, is basically getting sexually harassed by someone she can't fire, and her dad is kinda neglectful about her needs. I would be bitchy too!

Gangle: ...Are you fucking serious? We're villainizing someone whose dreams were freakin' crushed for being "unrealistic" and spent an entire episode going through mania? The woman whose Digital design is a representation of masking your actual emotions, including depression? And she was told that she was annoying and was better sad?! Who was so, damn close to Abstracting (which can be seen as a euphemism to suicide)??!!!

Did these characters do questionable acts or say things they shouldn't have said? Yes. Does it excuse their behavior? Not really. Does that make them villains? Hell, no. These are flawed characters, like everyone else!

...Sorry for the rant, to the readers and to the person who made this post. I've just seen this a lot with Mabel and Rose Quartz and it pisses me off...and I didn't know that it happened to Bea and now Gangle?!?!?

I have opinions about the recent gangle hate

[theofficalnarrator]

Luv ur post! Could u write more little oneshots like “Old With You” with Sophia?☺️LIKE ITS ACTUALLY SO CUTE🥰🥰🥰

OLD WITH YOU PT.2

Summary: Some more clips of our favorite old married couple.

Warnings: Both kinda mean to one another, cuss words, attempts at humor, they "play" fight, gay, + christamas content for the holidays!!!

---

[INTRO: Our fav old married couple that is not confirmed (yet) is back at it again! Here's some more moments of Y/N and Sophia from Katseye acting like an old married couple and making me feel hella single.]

[CUT TO: A cozy living room, softly lit with fairy lights. The camera is set up for a live stream, capturing Sophia and Y/N sitting side by side on a plush couch. The relaxing environment is a sharp contrast to their heated debate.]

“Okay, okay! Let’s not forget about your obsession with leaving ingredients out after making something!” Sophia starts, causing the other girl to roll her eyes.

Y/N turns to the camera. "Okay, Eyekons, do you know how annoying it is to ask this...," Y/N makes a face as she motions towards Sophia with a look of mock disgust ," I don't even know- THING?!"

"Hey!"

"Shush! I ask her "Hey, Soph, I'm gonna go grab something or I'm gonna go make something, you want some"", Y/N moves her head as a disgruntled Sophia throws a pillow at her ," and she says "no, I'm good!"..... AND THEN EATS MY FOOD?"

[I can't defend you Sophia, I would be pissed too]

The Filipina is doubled over, giggling, clearly amused by her fellow member's pissed of facial expression. Y/N bristles, crossing her arms. "It's not funny!"

---

[WEVERSE - Y/NTheMan - Bro I just got out of the shower and can't find my hoodie]

[WEVERSE - Y/NTheMan - all I want for Christmas is more hoodies]

[WEVERSE - Y/NTheMan - how much money do you want to bet Eyekons that one of the girls stole it???]

[not so subtle foreshadowing ]

[CUT TO: A live stream is rolling, and the camera captures Sophia sitting comfortably on the couch, her hair in a messy bun, wearing a cozy hoodie. Sophia is animatedly chatting with the audience, her laughter filling the room.]

"So, guys, the I walk into the kitchen and Megan is holding a pot... and it's on fire! She was screaming and y—"

At that exact moment, the unmistakable sound of a door opening off screen is heard. Y/N walks into frame (or her lower body does). She freezes for a moment, processing the sight.

"..Is that my hoodie?", Y/N asks, the audience only being able to see her clenched fists and her slightly annoyed voice. Sophia looks up, feigning innocence, and shrugs nonchalantly.

[oop-]

"What? This old thing? I found it lying around."

[mind you, that's a limited edition hoodie LMAO]

"Lying around? I laid it out on my bed so I can wear it after I shower!" Sophia simply responds with a smirk, clearly enjoying the moment.

"Well, you snooze, you lose, babe. Besides, it looks better on me." Y/N sits down on the couch, finally her whole body in frame. The newcomer rolls her eyes dramatically, crossing her arms. Sophia laughs, leaning back into the couch, clearly unfazed.

["babe" I would have folded if that was me, Y/N]

[WEVERSE - Y/NTheMan - *attachment 5 images* Bro not only did she steal my hoodie but she fell asleep on HER OWN LIVE. Sorry for how awkward the live was eyekons]

[chat... idk what's a bigger deal: Sophia fell asleep on Y/N OR Y/N let her!]

---

[CUT TO: The camera opens with Y/N and Sophia walking into a bustling movie theater, the bright lights and the smell of popcorn filling the air. Yoonchae, the youngest of the trio, is bouncing with excitement.]

They approach the concession stand, and the squabbling begins.

“I want popcorn, nachos, and a soda! Can we get all of that?”

[Yoonchae is so me bc I'm also a big back]

Y/N raises an eyebrow. Ever since the Korean had came to America, she was alike a sponge when it came to trying new food. A while back, the Kats were watching some movie and Yoonchae had at that moment decided that she would have to try all those food items if she ever got to go to the movie theater. Y/N was not as happy, knowing it would come out of her pockets. “All of that? You’re going to explode before the movie even starts.”

Sophia however nudges the other girl. “Let her live! It’s a special occasion.” Y/N narrows her eyes, knowing the only reason that Sophia is open to the idea is because Y/N would buy and hold everything for them.

Y/N simply responds with a sigh, and flips Sophia off behind Yoonchae's back. As Y/N suspects, Sophia pulls Yoonchae away when the time to pay comes. Y/N begrudgingly swipes her card and carries the food items over to where the girls are. The trio loiter around the soda machines for a bit, and a small part of Y/N is happy that she spent all that money to have Yoonchae smile ear to ear.

[No wonder Sophia was on Yoonchae's side, the two had a sugar mommy paying for everything]

Y/N's soft eyes towards the Korean girl as she pours butter into the popcorn is interruptted by a voice whispering in her ear. "Thanks for the food, Y/Nie-"

"Fuck off, Soph." The Filipina simply responds with a giggle.

[lmao the fact that they didn't cut this out-]

They finally get their snacks and head into the theater, where they find their seats. Yoonchae is practically bouncing in her seat, while Y/N and Sophia settle in, ready for the show to start.

As the movie begins, the three of them are glued to the screen, enjoying the magical world of Wicked. The music swells, and the story unfolds beautifully.

As the movie nears its emotional climax, Y/N notices Sophia wiping her eyes. She moves the vlog camera to capture Sophia's heartfelt response.

Y/N leans, over, her breath tickling Sophia's neck from the closeness. “Sophia, are you crying?-"

“Shut up!", Sophia whisper-yells as she sniffles ,"It’s just… it’s so beautiful... and sad.” Y/N giggles reaching out and wiping Sophia's tears away as the leader stuffs her mouth with popcorn.

[ME WHEN LORD, ME WH-]

[s the movie reaches its conclusion, the lights come up, and Yoonchae is practically glowing with excitement.

“That was amazing! I loved every second of it!” The youngest bounces up, dried tears on her cheeks. Y/N and Sophia chuckle in response, both wiping off the remnants from the brown-haired girl's cheeks.

[so jealous of Yoonchae cause I want Y/NSoph to be my parents]

They all stand up, still buzzing with energy from the movie, and head out of the theater, chatting and laughing together.

---

[CUT TO: The camera is set up in the kitchen, festively decorated with garlands and twinkling lights. A cheerful holiday tune plays softly in the background. Y/N and Sophia stand behind a counter filled with baking ingredients, wearing matching aprons.]

Y/N grins at the camera, waving with one hand while the other is gripping the counter as Sophia smothers tightens her apron from behind. “Welcome back, Eyekons! Today, we’re going to bake some holiday cookies! We'll try our best.”, The camera catches Y/N smacking Sophia's hands as the Filipina continues to tighten her apron and continues ," We're not the best at cooking and bak-"

Sophia interjects with a scoff and an eye roll. “Speak for yourself. I’m a baking pro.” The leader starts opening the ingredients, examine which ones they need.

“Right... The same pro who burned brownies last time?” The other girl says as she gives a knowing look into the camera as if she were on The Office.

[not the shade, Y/N being messy era]

“That was one time! And they were still edible… sort of.”

[edible?! THEY ATE IT??]

The two jump into the recipe. Their goal: make frosted cookies for the girls (without killing one another). As Sophia pours the flour, she accidentally knocks over a bag of sugar, sending a cloud of white powder into the air.

"... really, baking pro?"

"It was an accident!" Sophia exclaims, defensively. As the camera zooms in on the two, it's apparent that Sophia's cheeks are dusted pink to match her lips. However, viewers know damn well it's from embarrassment and not from her blush.

"Here, give it to me" Y/N says, reaching out her hand to grab the flour. Sophia pulls her hands away, a bit of flour flying into the air out from the bag.

"No, I got it-"

"No, you don't, just g-"

"No! Go aw-"

The two go back and forth, their hands gripping either side of the flour bag. Botha re too engrossed in fighting for the flour bag they don't catch the crew behind the camera calling for a timeout. Back and forth the flour bag goes until...

FLOOF! The bag rips, the flour flying into the air between the Katseye duo and dropping onto the floor.

"Sophia..." Y/N says, her voice far too low. Sophia may be the leader, but the only person that she was scared of besides Sleepy Yoonchae, was Y/N. And the voice the other was using caused her to gulp.

"I-... I didn't mean to!"

"Oh, really! You piece of sh-"

[THE CUT OFF IS SENDING ME]

[CUT TO: The camera captures the two again, the kitchen cleaned up from the flour spill and the two seeming calm, despite still being covered in flour.]

"Annnnd, we're back. Sorry about that, Eyekons. Someone had an oopsie" Y/N says, side-eyeing the leader. Sophia sighs, a bit of flour dribbling off of her, knowing that she should interject. They continue baking, but as Y/N mixes the ingredients, she gets a little too enthusiastic, splattering batter everywhere. Sophia grabs a spatula and playfully smacks Y/N’s arm. The other girl glares, but it's not with the same intensity as before. She's clearly calmed down.

[aww they look so cute]

“Careful there, Y/Nie. We’re not trying to redecorate the kitchen." Sophia says teasingly, rubbing a bit of spare flour off of the girl's nose.

Y/N rolls her eyes playfully. "That's Chef L/N to you. And I am being careful, this bowl is too small."

"Here... ", Sophia motions for Y/N to give it to here, " Let me." The Filipina is half-surprised when the other actually relents. It seems that they're both sobered up after the flour incident. As Sophia mixes, Y/N pushes a stray strand of hair from Sophia's bun and pushes it past her ear.

"Y/N..." Sophia warns, her eyes on the batter, not trusting herself to look into the other's eyes.

"Mmm?..." Y/N says with a teasing smile.

[MS. L/N BEHAVE YOURSELF]

They move on to rolling out the dough, but Sophia struggles to keep it from sticking to the counter. In a moment of frustration, she flings flour into the air, creating a mini snowstorm.

“Sophia! We’re going to be cleaning this up until New Year’s!” Y/N gasps out, smacking the leader's shoulder softly. That's what everyone assumes until Y/N continues smacking Sophia and it hits her. Y/N is dusting off the flour off of Sophia.

["she's so wifey material!" I scream as they pull me into the asylum]

They finally cut out cookie shapes, but as they place them on the baking sheet, Y/N accidentally drops one, and it lands face down.

"Shit." Y/N says. She immediately whips her head up, staring right into the camera. Sophia, who's busy rearranging the cookies, doubles over. She's silent, but from the way her shoulders shake, it's easy to tell that the leader is laughing.

[Y/N's been spending too much time w Manon it seems]

Y/N sighs, gulping as she nudges Sophia. "Stop..." Y/N whines out softly. The Filipina simply throws her head back and laughs harder.

As they put the cookies in the oven, Y/N sets a timer, but Sophia, distracted by her phone, accidentally resets it. Y/N notices a while later as she looks at the clock.

“Sophia... Did you just reset the timer?”

"Mmm?.." The Filipina looks up, looking at the clock. As it hits them that it's been reset they look at each other with wide eyes.

“We’re going to burn the cookies!” Y/N says exasperated. They both rush to the oven, but as they open it, a plume of smoke billows out. The cookies are charred beyond recognition. The two stand in silence for a couple of minutes. Sophia nervously looks behind at the camera and the crew.

"Y/N... I didn't mean to..." Sophia says softly, fidgeting with her hands. Upon not hearing a response, Sophia looks down at her feet. She almost looks like a little kid being chastised by her parent. The audience watches with held breaths as Y/N sighs, bringing one of her hands up to her temples.

[ooooooooh...]

Sophia's lower lip trembles. "Y/N... please..."

[wait I actually felt so bad for Sophia here hehehehe]

The sound it cut off by a giggle... Coming from Y/N. The girl starts laughing, her shoulders shaking as she places her head on the counter as she chuckles. Sophia's left a bit dumbfounded and lost, but at least she knows that the other girl isn't angry.

As Y/N finally seems to calm down, she turns to the camera, laughing. Sophia asks, " Y/N... are you angry?"

"Huh?... What? No! This is hilarious!" The girl says wiping away tears that came to her eyes from the baking fiasco. Seeing the girl giggle, Sophia finally cracks a smile, punching the girl on the shoulder.

"Don't scare me like that! I was so scared!" Sophia exclaims, her teary eyes and trembling lower lip, making her look adorable.

[CUT TO: The girls are back in their original positions. Their clothes and aprons are dusted and on the counter there are a pack of frosted cookies, store-brought.]

"Well..." Sophia starts.

They both burst into laughter, and Y/N up one of the store-brought cookies.

“Merry Christmas, everyone! May your cookies be better than ours!" They both take a bite of the frosted cookie, laughing, as the camera fades out with their cheerful banter and holiday spirit.

[real they're so me]

---

[CUT TO: The camera is set up in a cozy, softly lit room. Y/N sits on a stool in front of a microphone, headphones on her ear, guitar in hand, looking a bit nervous but excited. A small sign in the background reads “KATSEYE in the Booth”]

Y/N smiles at the camera, her hair falling gracefully over her shoulders and sashays as she speaks. “Hey, Eyekons! Welcome back to the KATSEYE in the Booth!"

Y/N pulls her acoustic guitar and places it over her lap, ready to play. "Today, I’m doing something a little special. I’m going to cover a song that means a lot to me, and I have to give a huge shoutout to my best friend, Sophia, for introducing me to it.”

[Y/N you can't even trick historians, they know you're both gay-]

"The song is 'Lover' by Taylor Swift!," Y/N gives a knowing smile to the camera, "I know, I know. We all know I'm not a big Swiftie, but I've been converted."

[insert I know what you are meme]

Y/N gives and smile to the camera, as if she's reminiscing something... or someone. "This song is just so beautiful and romantic, and every time I hear it, I think of all the amazing moments I've shared with my favorite Swiftie. So, here goes nothing!”

As Y/N strums the first chords on her guitar, the atmosphere becomes intimate. She takes a deep breath and begins to sing a soft, romantic melody, her voice gentle and heartfelt. The camera captures close-ups of Y/N as she pours her emotions into the song, her eyes occasionally drifting to the camera, smiling and even winking at one point.

Y/N’s voice carries a warmth that fills the room, creating a cozy atmosphere. As the song reaches its climax, Y/N closes her eyes, fully immersed in the moment. The camera captures the raw emotion on her face, showcasing her passion for the music.

[... does anyone else want to make out w her or is it just me?]

After finishing the song, Y/N opens her eyes and looks at the camera, a shy smile spreading across her face.

“...I hope you all enjoyed that." Y/N says, giggling softly. She then points straight into the camera in a Uncle Sam manner and says, "And Sophia, thank you for introducing me to this song. It really means a lot to me.”

“Alright, Eyekons, let me know what you think in the comments! Happy holidays, everyone!”

---

[WEVERSE - Lara RAJ - *attachement 3 photos, 1 video*]

[WEVERSE - Lara RAJ - guess which two ppl had to kiss cause of the mistletoe!]

[CUT TO: A cozy living room adorned with holiday decorations. A large mistletoe hangs from the ceiling, twinkling lights casting a warm glow around the space. Y/N and Sophia are sitting on a plush couch, surrounded by festive pillows and blankets, both looking a bit shy as the girls behind the camera (unmistakably the other kats), loudly exclaim]

 “Come on, you two! It’s tradition! You have to kiss!” the voice belongs to Megan, who giggles alongside the other girls off-camera. Y/N and Sophia shake their heads.

“Yeah, don’t be shy! Just a quick peck!” The voice is Lara, the cameraperson, who snorts as Y/N shakes her head frantically. Someone throws a pillow at the two, trying to coax them.

 “But we don’t want to! Right, Sophia?” Y/N asks, trying to stand up to the other Kats as she turns to her fellow Kat who's stuck in the same sticky situation.

“Exactly! We’re just friends.” The camera turns around to Lara and Daniela's face's, both giving the camera a "really?" look. The teasing continues, and the friends start chanting, egging them on.

[LMAO even the other girls know]

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

Y/N and Sophia exchange glances, both clearly embarrassed from the obvious redness on dusted over both of their cheeks.

 “What do we do?” Y/N whispers nervously to Sophia, noticing how the Kats won't stop. Sophia is caught a bit off guard as the ususal stoic and confident member is actually asking her for advice.

Sophia bites her lip, looking up at Y/N through her eyelashes. “I guess we could just… do a cheek kiss? It’s less awkward, right?”

“O-Okay, fine..... On three?” Y/N nervously agrees, gulping.

“Yeah, on three.”

They both lean in slightly.

"One" They say in unison.

Their matching rhythm causes the two to look back up into each other's eyes.

"Two"

Their hearts race as they lean even closer, their breath mingling.

"Three.."

They both lean in and quickly peck each other on the cheek, their faces turning bright red as they pull away, giggling nervously. The Kats cheer and woop, Lara zooming the camera into the girl's faces to catch their flustered reactions.

[I just know Hybe and Geffen are sending emails to these girls right now]

Y/N and Sophia exchange shy smiles, their embarrassment slowly fading as they join in the laughter of their friends.

[WEVERSE - peanutbutterlover02 - they didn't kiss one another, just on each others cheeks BORING]

[WEVERSE - mei mei - LMAO BRO I JUST NOTICED HOW RED THEY ARE ]

---

Hey Y'all! I finally finished redoing my research paper! We're in the final stages and I REALLY hope that it actually works out. Anyways, I've been pretty caught up in that and that's why I've being pushing this off. I still haven't started on the Megan fic ;-; Lowkey think I should just stick with these formats since it's quicker.

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

Remember Me

It's finally here!!! I really did not expect this lil idea to blossom into 5.4k words but here it is. Enjoy!

Summary: The arcane gives you the second chance you never knew you were looking for

The last thing you remember is the swirling myriad of colours that is the arcane and suddenly you're in a world that's both familiar and not quite familiar at the same time. Zaun, or what you think it Zaun, looks…the same yet different, the colours are brighter than you remember, the air feels easier to breathe and the people look happier.

Confused, you poke around for information. It's surprisingly easy to gather everything you need to know, the people are more relaxed, their guard is down and their lips are loose. The only thing left now is to find a place to spend the night, and it's not hard to find a simple boarding room after swiping a couple of loose change from some wealthy merchants.

In your little rented room, you sit on the bed, revising the events of the day. Turns out this city really is Zaun — a Zaun that is independent and co-exists with Piltover. This Zaun came about because of Vander and Silco's efforts, you remember tearing up when you heard that, much to the concern of the civilian you were asking but you had waved their concern away, swallowing the emotions that threatened to choke you. Silco has become a councilor representing Zaun and is often away whilst Vander still runs The Last Drop, and you are tempted to run straight there but you hold yourself back. You can't rush this, there's still too much you don't know yet, and tampering with the events of what you believe is an alternate universe might just throw everything in jeopardy.

With a sigh, you flop onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Such comfort is a rare find in the Zaun you know, and no one is this easy to steal from. You wonder what caused this version of Silco and Vander to make up, wonder what went down differently, and if Silco is happier in this universe than your own.

You toy with the pendant that sits around your neck, the last thing you have to remember the man you love by, and feel a tear slide down your cheek. You miss him still, your heart aching for one last moment to spend with him but you know it will never happen. You had buried him in the river with Jinx, watching as his cold lifeless body sank into its murky depths, numbly sitting on the docks afterwards, curled up with your knees to your chest. Sevika had found you in that fetal position and brought you to Silco's office, awkwardly comforting you with her usual pats to the back that feels more like a slap.

That night, you fall asleep with thoughts of Silco filling your head. The bed feels cold without him by your side, but tiredness quickly wins and you slip into dreamland, dreaming of a future with him.

The next day, you slip into The Last Drop, unable to hold yourself back anymore. You order your usual drink, tugging at the hood around your head as Vander approaches, a glass in hand.

"You're new around here," he observes, setting the glass down in front of you.

"Just visiting," you say curtly, not wanting to let anything slip.

"Still, you look rather familiar. Have I seen you before?" He queries, looking you over.

"No," you say a little too quickly before clearing your throat, taking a sip of your drink. "Sorry, I don't believe we've met. I'm pretty sure I'd remember if I've met the Vander."

He laughs, a deep guffaw that you've missed dearly. "Flattery won't get you a discounted drink."

"But perhaps it will get me a free drink?" You smile, raising your now empty glass.

He chuckles, refilling your glass, "you've got to do better than that then."

Your chest fills with a warmth you haven't felt since…you've forgotten how long ago it was, it feels like eternity since you last heard Vander speak to you with gentleness. Your hand moves to rest on Vander's but fortunately you quickly catch yourself and pretend like you're reaching out for your glass. You grip your glass tightly, staring at the liquid inside and swallow the emotions that threaten to overwhelm you.

That's when something catches your eye — a tattoo you've never seen before on Vander's hand. VI is etched into his skin, reminiscent of a tattoo etched into another person's skin in your universe. Vi.

"That tattoo on your hand —" You blurt out, and then internally curse yourself for it. Vander turns around, raising the hand with the tattoo and smiles a sad smile.

"My daughter. Vi."

"Oh…sorry about that." You shift in your seat. So Vi was dead in this universe, that was news. Was Jinx alive? You'd heard snippets of Ekko, the boy genius, as you walked the streets, so you knew that he was alive here. Was Sevika alive?

"It's alright." Vander waves it off, causing something else to catch your eye — a dove tattoo on the inside of his wrist. A dove?

"And the dove?"

"A dear friend," Vander says softly. "Y/N."

Wait what?

You nearly choke on your drink, biting the glass hard. You were dead in this universe? How? When? Was Silco coping alright? Was Silco —

The sound of The Last Drop's doors swinging open snap you out of your thoughts. A familiar figure walks in, blue hair tied into twin buns with a streak of pink in one of them.

Jinx?

"Powder!" Vander calls, a huge smile on his face. Powder smiles back, running over to hug him. You take a sip of your drink, watching as the two embrace each other, then Powder goes to serve drinks to the customers, happily skipping away. She's nothing like Jinx, she doesn't have the same haunted eyes that your adoptive daughter does, but there's still a spark of pain and sorrow in her eyes.

She did lose her sister, after all.

You watch a little more, taking your time with your drink until your glass finally runs dry and you place the money on the table, slipping out of the bar, but not before catching a glimpse of someone else familiar.

Ekko.

The two of you walk past each other, gazes meeting for just a split second before you go your separate ways, you to your room and he to The Last Drop. The alcohol sits in your stomach, warm as you lie on the bed, your mind processing everything that had happened today.

Vander not only has the scar Silco gave him in the river, but a tattoo in memory of Vi decorates his hand, and Jinx is…Powder. You vaguely remember the name, suggested by Silco as he drunkenly rambled about his favourite things, annoyed that Vander was the only one who could suggest names for Felicia's child. To think she really did use that name, you never found out what she named Jinx and it made your tear up. Felicia never stopped thinking of Silco as a friend, even as the trio drifted apart, torn away from each other by their responsibilities and dreams, and chose to name her second child according to Silco's drunken suggestion. Most of all, you're dead. You.

You laugh, choking back the tears that are beginning to spring into your eyes. Was this universe's Silco mourning your death the same way you mourned your universe's Silco? Had he at least gotten the chance to propose to you, ask you out, go on a date with you, sit on the rooftop and dream about nothing as you both look over the city you call your home?

You sorely miss the past, when you knew you could look forward to meeting together at The Last Drop, the laughter that always rang in the empty bar, the music that filled the air, Felicia dancing the night away, sometimes dragging you into it, Vander ruffling your hair and flicking Silco in the forehead, Silco grumbling about the volume and his inability to concentrate on his work. All the while you sat there, basking in their presence, allowing yourself to be dragged into whatever mess they created that night.

Now all three of them are dead, and only you are left to carry on the memory, but you can barely remember the feeling of those times. The memories are clouded and you can only see bits and pieces of them. You buried them long ago, ever since you turned your back on Vander and chose to follow Silco but now they resurface, pulled upwards by the sight of a happy Vander and the name 'Powder'.

There's a knock on your door. Wiping your tears away, you go to answer it, unsurprised that Ekko is standing there but you didn't expect Heimerdinger to also be there. Then again you should have expected it, Ekko is a resourceful one and upon coming to this alternate universe he would have searched for allies — you, Heimerdinger and Jayce.

"May we come in?" The Yordle asks, looking up at you.

"Sure," you step aside, letting them in and close the door before going to sit on your bed. "So what's the occasion?"

"The fact that we're in what looks like an alternate reality?" Ekko snorts, taking a seat on the chair next to Heimerdinger.

You roll your eyes, "wow what a discovery, wanna tell me how you discovered that?"

"Now now, students. Don't fight," Heimerdinger waves his hands, jumping between the both of you. "Ekko here has an idea of how to return us to our universe, tell them my boy."

"Hold on, where's Jayce?" You frown. "Didn't he get transported into this universe as well?"

"We have been unable to find him, I'm afraid. I doubt he's in this universe, or I would have seen him in Piltover." Heimerdinger shakes his head.

"Anyways, the plan is we're going to recreate the explosion that brought us into this universe in the first place, and hopefully it brings us back instead of throwing us into yet another universe." Ekko sighs. "I managed to find a hextech crystal's pieces and pieced it back together. All that's left is to recreate the very explosion but that's taking a while."

"Oh is the task too much for the boy wonder?" Your sass is overflowing today for some reason.

"How about you try pulling your weight and help out?" Ekko snaps back and you laugh.

"Well sorry for only finding out about your plan now."

Heimerdinger only sighs and waits until the both of you decide it's enough sass for the day before taking his leave with Ekko. You tag along, curious about the progress the two have made so far and impressed that Ekko has a whole lab to himself, although you'll never admit it to his face.

Over the next few days, you help Heimerdinger and Ekko however you can while finding time to explore Zaun further. The people here are livelier and happier, the streets are brighter, filled with Zaunites and Piltovians alike. Children frolic about without worry, the air is filled with booming voices instead of hushed whispers. The Bridge of Progress is bustling with activity — vendors peddling their wares, friends leaning against the railing, chatting the day away, the crowd flows both ways, into Piltover and into Zaun. Food is plentiful here, and people have enough money to spend that they also treat themselves frequently, something you could only dream of.

It's nothing like the Zaun you call your home and a part of you misses its dark corners, the sinister purple glow of Shimmer, the darting gazes as people flicked in and out of sight. It was what you grew up around, after all, but there's another part of you that wishes your Zaun was like this universe's Zaun. It's beautiful, peaceful, just the way your Vander had envisioned Zaun to become. Your Silco would come to appreciate the serenity, you think, a reward after the hard fought battle for independence.

Ekko recruits Powder along the way and you try to not show up whenever she's around, afraid that she'll recognise you. If Vander and her were this close, who was to say this universe's you wasn't as well?

"I've noticed that you've been avoiding young Powder lately, may I ask why?" Heimerdinger comes over to you a few days later.

"You just did." You frown, still staring at the runes in front of you. He stares at you, unimpressed. Sighing, you finally look at him. "Turns out I'm dead in this universe, alright? I don't want to risk being recognised, and considering how close I was with Jinx, Powder will probably recognise me."

"I see. Hmm, it could possibly mess up this universe's timeline, perhaps it is safer indeed for you to avoid being recognised." The Yordle hums. "I'll let you know when the young lady drops by."

"Thanks." You smile slightly, a flickering flame of warmth sparking in your chest. Heimerdinger smiles back before strutting off to continue his work. Maybe forming new relationships isn't so bad, not if it can recreate that warmth you had with Silco and Jinx.

The Yordle remains true to his word, helping you find excuses to leave the room before Powder shows up, and if Ekko is supicious about your behaviour he says nothing. With the aid of an additional technological genius, Ekko not only almost recreates the event that sent you all here in the first place but also discovers a way to turn back time — albeit only for four seconds. Still, it's a breakthrough no one's ever dreamed of, and is a highly useful invention for a variety of things.

A few days later, you learn about a party for the Young Innovator's Competition that's coming up, held at The Last Drop and Heimerdinger encourages both you and Ekko to attend it.

"And what's the point of a device like this if you don't enjoy the time you have?" The Yordle meets yours and Ekko's gaze, removing his goggles when he sees the look of concern on your face.

"It's been a while since you've last allowed yourself to enjoy anything, seize the moment while you still can." He places a hand on your shoulder. "Leave all your worries behind just for tonight."

You sigh, but can't deny the truth in his words. Maybe it's alright to just let your hair down just for tonight, you haven't been able to do so ever since Silco died and Zaun fell apart. You're tired, and a respite no matter how brief is more than welcome.

On the night of the party, Ekko walks in the front door while you slip in via the back, a hood thrown over your head. You keep to the shadows, watching the others while taking sips from a glass you had taken from Vander who had recognised you from your previous visit. Nibbling on a pastry, you lean against the wall, gaze flicking over all those in attendance. You recognise some of them from their grown up selves, creating an aching yearning for your home in this strange world and you quickly look for Ekko, desperate to rid yourself of sadness on this celebratory night.

You find the boy wonder sitting at the bar counter, talking with Vander and Benzo when suddenly yet another familiar figure enters your view — Silco.

Your body moves forwards on its own, taking a step towards the face you've missed dearly, heart pounding in your chest. He's here, back from Piltover which you didn't have time to scour for a glimpse of him and you feel your emotions begin to clog up your throat. Swallowing, you stop yourself and turn back to your wall, this time facing it as you struggle to regain control. You feel a tear slip out anyways and sniff, biting your lip.

He says something and you feel butterflies flutter in your stomach as they always did before. You may not be watching their conversation but you'd recognise your lover's voice anywhere. Your fingernails dig into your skin and you will yourself to remain still, to ignore the urge that calls for you to go over to him, hold him, kiss him, say all the things you never got to say. You want nothing more than to wrap yourself around him, hold him tightly as you cry into his shoulder but you can't. This is not your Silco, and you are not his Y/N. Your Silco is gone forever, and so is his Y/N, that is the reality you both have to accept.

The man you love is gone. you've laid him in the river he loved so much with Jinx, that you know. You'll never be able to touch him again, feel his warmth, lace your fingers together with his, sleep with the last thing you see being his face and wake up seeing his face first thing in the morning, but it's hard not to think about what could have been when a version of him is standing right in front of you.

Inhaling a shaky breath, you pull your cloak around you tighter, willing away the chill that has worked its way into your heart. You can't do this, you can't bear to see him again and not cradle his face in your hands, not press your forehead against his, breathing in his cigar-laced scent. Gritting your teeth, you find another corner to disappear into, putting as much distance between this universe's Silco and you. Slumping against the wall, you slide downwards onto the floor, closing your eyes as you focus on your breathing.

You've got this. You can hold yourself together. You're stronger than this.

"Need a drink?" A voice asks. You nod, eyes still closed and feel a glass pressed into your palm. Your lips part, ready to thank the mysterious stranger but when your eyes open, the room has gone dark and the stranger is nowhere to be found. Balloons explode, causing streamers to fall from the ceiling and the floor goes wild. Music comes to life, the crowd parting for someone. You quickly get to your feet, careful not to spill any of your drink and shrink closer to the wall, gaze fixed on the one who has stolen everyone's attention.

Powder. Jinx.

Tugging your hood around your head tighter, you look away, hoping that she doesn't catch a glimpse of your face but it's fine, she only has eyes for one person tonight. You take another sip from your glass, feeling the liquid burn as it slides down your throat. You've been having one too many drinks tonight, and you blame this universe's Silco as well as Vander for that. Mostly Silco.

You let out a shaky sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. Maybe you should stop drinking for today, going back to the lab drunk is not a good idea. You turn your attention to the dance floor that's being taken over by couples swaying to the beat, smiles and laughter all around. Ekko's fixated on his dance with Powder and you smile slightly, happy that he's found something in this whole mess.

Good for him, you think to yourself. He needed that, a breath of fresh air, a moment to just…be a boy.

You set your now empty glass on the counter, finding yourself leaning against it like you always did back then and quickly stand upright. You're letting your guard down too much, probably because of the alcohol. Shaking your head, you take a deep breath to recenter yourself. Focus.

The party slowly turns into a daze, lights filling your vision and music filling your ears. Bodies spin across the dance floor, you've lost track of where everyone is and all you know is that this party is starting to feel like forever. It's not a particularly bad thing, moments like this are nice, but there's a nagging feeling in the back of your head that makes you antsy and this party isn't doing it any favours.

"May I have a dance?" A voice sounds from beside you. Glancing in the direction from which the voice came, a familiar silhouette enters your view.

Silco.

You stare at him, then stare at his outstretched hand, then back up at him. Your mind is spinning, your heart leaping to your throat and your chest tightens. He peers at you with his one good sea foam coloured eye and you notice the difference between this Silco and yours.

His dead eye isn't the menacing black and orange you've come to love, it's a pale colour, white and yellow perhaps and his scar is openly on display in public. The edges of his face are softer, and gone is the coldness in his gaze, replaced by a warmth that's different from the one he always reserved for you. Yet, there's a pain hidden behind it, the mark of loss that you've come to know so well.

"I —" Words finally unclog themselves from your throat. "I can't dance. I don't know how to."

"It's quite alright. I can lead, following shouldn't be too hard." He smiles gently at you, hand still outstretched. "Give yourself a chance, you may find that you quite enjoy it."

You gaze deep into his eye, hesitating. You shouldn't, revealing your identity may shake the very foundation of this universe and you've kept your interactions with those you know to a minimum for this very reason. Yet, yet something stirs within you, nudging your hand forward until it touches his and your resolve dissolves completely. You let him lead you onto the dance floor, feeling the warmth flood from his hand into yours, feeling your palms lock as though they were made for each other, feeling like you're back there again, when everything was alright because you knew you had Vander, Silco and Felicia to lean on. Tears spring to your eyes, blurring your vision but you let yourself go, let Silco lead, trust that he won't let you fall.

He spins you around, guiding your movements through little nudges with his feet and tugs on your hands. You feel your body glide across the floor, his touches leaving ghostly imprints on your skin. When he pulls you into his chest, you stumble, crashing into him but he continues like nothing happened, an arm around your waist. He smells less of cigars and more like perfume, the kind associated with rich Piltovian snobs but you suppose it's only fair since he is a politician. Only he's not a snob, knowing your Silco.

You bask in the moment, dancing with the man you love, the man you buried, capturing it all and saving every second of it in your mind. It feels surreal, the second chance you never anticipated, but you can only watch as it passes you by, unable to say all the things you never got to. There's so much you want to say, so much you want to do, but you know you can't. This is not your Silco, this is not your universe, your regrets cannot be undone, not truly at least. You have to live with them, that is the burden you carry amid many others.

When your feet tire, Silco guides you back to your usual spot at the bar counter and orders two drinks — scotch and your favourite. He looks at you, your fingers still intertwined and brings your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

"I know you," he says without missing a beat. "It's you, isn't it? Y/N."

"You're confusing me for someone else." You wave him off with a nervous chuckle, letting go of his hand to scratch the back of your neck.

"And that right there is a nervous habit of yours." Silco nods at Vander in thanks and slides your glass towards you. "That's your favourite drink, isn't it?"

"You — you're mistaken." You shake your head. "I'm not Y/N."

"You're right." He takes a sip from his own glass. "You're not. You're not the Y/N I know, the same yet different. Care to explain?"

You take a particularly huge gulp of your drink, and immediately regret it with the way it burns a path down your throat into your stomach. Coughing, you set the glass back down, gasping for breath. Silco's brow furrows and he reaches over, rubbing your back.

"Maybe you should lay off the alcohol for the rest of the day," he murmurs, concern lacing his voice.

"Don't got much left til the next day." You reach for the glass, fingertips just brushing it but a slender hand moves it out of your reach.

"Still, it's best not to." His voice is smooth, velvety, music to your ears, accompanied by his gentle touch and you feel yourself growing weak.

"Can we — can we talk somewhere private?" You whisper, throat clogging up again.

"Of course." He slips his hand into yours. "Lead the way."

Squeezing his hand tightly, you bring him to the rooftop of The Last Drop — the place you and Silco always went to for some peace and quiet. Silco's eye widens slightly when he realises where you're bringing him to, and then a sad smile forms on his face.

Every step towards the rooftop causes your heart to ache even more, memories of your time spent hopelessly in love flooding back into your head. All the times where the both of you just lay there doing nothing, simply enjoying each other's presence, the stolen kisses, the times where he tried coaxing you into dancing with him. You remember when he had carried you from the rooftop, drunk and rambling, all the way to the spare bed, tucked you in and spent the rest of the night at your side. You remember when he had held you in his arms right here, gently rubbing your back as you cried into his shoulder, mourning the death of your best friend. You remember the quiet whispers of promises made, hearts exchanged, lives forever intertwined. The ring that hangs around your neck was given here, under the false sky on a chilly wet night, cold metal sliding onto your ring finger, a warm kiss following suit.

"Here," you say, sitting at your usual spot. He automatically sits on your right as he always has, fingers still intertwined with yours. He says nothing, gaze still fixed on you but there's no trace of suspicion, nor of anger. Instead his eye is filled with curiosity, a hint of caution, but there's also sadness that's no longer hidden by warmth.

He's looking at the image of the lover he lost, the same as you, you realise. He's in the same position as you, confused, saddened, burdened with regrets, and yearning.

"Of course you'd notice. You know me best, you'd recognise me from miles away," you laugh, but it comes out more as a sob. You tug your hood down, revealing yourself and smile sadly. He stares at you, mouth slightly ajar then quickly composes himself.

"I'm Y/N, but not the Y/N you know. I…I come from an alternate universe where I'm, well, clearly not dead. You are though. In my universe. You're dead, I buried you with our daughter in the river where you fought with Vander and since then I — I —" You collapse in his arms, tears streaming down your face. Gripping onto his coat tightly, you wail, scream, let out everything you've been bottling up all this time. You can't stop, the dam has been broken but Silco holds onto you still, cradling your shaking body in his arms.

"I've missed you. I've missed you so bad. I need you, please, I'm lost without you, I don't know what to do, I don't know how to do what you do, I — I just…I just want you by my side again." You weakly cling to him, fingernails digging into his arms.

"I've missed you too." His voice is but a whisper in the wind, his breath warm in your ear. He buries his face into your hair, arms wrapped tightly around you until your tears run dry.

"I'm sorry." You wipe away your tears, pulling away from him. "I shouldn't have —"

"Don't leave just yet. Stay a while more, please." His voice wavers, a weakness you've never seen him display before. Your Silco always hid his weaknesses, only ever displaying them in private intimate moments with you, and even then he never let his voice betray his true feelings, instead putting them into his actions. He always put you first, doing all he could to be strong for you so that you could lean on him whenever you needed to. To see, no hear, him falter, it shattered your heart like never before.

"Just for tonight," you whisper, letting yourself lean into his chest. "We — I shouldn't be doing this."

"Just for tonight," he echoes, closing his eye as he rests his head on yours. You close your eyes, imagining that it's your Silco who's cradling you, your Silco whose arms are wrapped tightly around you.

"I couldn't keep my promise to you." His voice cuts through the silence that has befallen the both of you. "I let you die in my arms, it's because of me that you were never able to see the future we dreamed of. I let you down."

You silently remain curled up against his chest, staring out at the nation of Zaun. Something wet lands on your arm and when you look up, you realise what it is.

Tears. He's crying.

You reach up, gently wiping the tears away. He blinks, taken aback then grabs you by the wrist with one hand while the other lifts your chin. You look directly into his eye, heart thundering in your chest and let him guide you once more.

"You're not my Y/N," he murmurs, "but I —"

"You're not my Silco either, and I know I'll never get him back, but just for tonight, let's pretend like we're in a perfect world." You close the distance, pressing your lips against his. He kisses back, hungrily devouring every inch of you. Your fingers thread through his hair, pulling him closer and he rests a hand on the back of your head, supporting it as he kisses you fervently.

"I love you," he gasps as you both pull apart, his voice breaking. "I love you."

"I love you too." You press your forehead against his, slipping your hands into his. "I always will."

Taking a deep breath, you break away, taking one last look at him. You have to go, leave the past behind and not look back, no matter how painful it is. Reaching out, you run your thumb over his scar, swallowing the lump of grief in your throat.

"I will never forget you. Thank you, for everything, Silco."

He watches you leave, a heavy feeling in his heart as he plays with ring sitting on his ring finger. Still, he can't stop the smile from forming on his face. It really was you. You're as strong as ever, forging on ahead no matter how difficult the path is and he's proud, even if it's you from another universe. But he's not. He's never been like you, he's always looked back, letting the past fuel him so he chases after you.

One last glimpse, he tells himself. One last time, then he'll let finally let you go.

One last time, you think to yourself, taking in your surroundings. This is the last time you'll ever see this universe, you're going home now, to your friends, your people, to the place where you created so many memories both good and bad.

As the arcane swirls around you, Powder enters the lab, watching with both awe and sadness. Ekko meets her gaze and you can see the conflict but also the resolve in his eyes. He would make a fine leader of Zaun, you think, maybe it's time to sit back and let the next generation break the cycle.

"Y/N!" Your head snaps in the direction of the voice. Silco?

He mouths something but the arcane is making too much noise for you to hear him. Yet, somehow, you know what he's saying. Smiling, you meet his gaze, a weight lifting itself off your chest.

I will always, remember you.