#thanks for the asks! i had fun answering them :)

[joelswhcre]

hii i absolutely love your content, your writing style is just AMAZING

could u please do one where joel finds the reader like pleasuring herself because he’s busy and she doesn’t want to bother him and he finds her and takes over?? HEHEHE i just think the concept is sooo hot omg

────۶ৎ you shoulda told me, baby

joel’s been busy all day and you didn’t wanna bother him. so you take matters into your own hands. he walks in right when you’re about to cum.

warnings: smut, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), dirty talk, a bit of praise, possessiveness, cumplay, slight dom!joel.

ᐟᐟ ⟢ a/n: baby when i say this ask had me kicking my feet n screaming you just get it omg. i had so much fun writing this filth for you. thank you for the ask and compliment! hope you enjoy!

ᖭ༏ᖫ

you hadn’t meant for him to see.

you’d waited. tried being good. tried keeping your hands to yourself, but joel had been working all damn day—tools clanking in the garage, shirt damp with sweat, face set with that focused look that made your thighs squeeze together.

you hadn’t wanted to interrupt. not when he was busy. so instead, you crept back into the bedroom, legs weak from need, and flopped down on the bed.

slid your hand under your shorts.

just to take the edge off.

your fingers were slick in seconds, brushing over your clit in slow, teasing circles. the needy little gasps escaping your lips sounded desperate, but it didn’t stop you. your mind wandered—imagined his hands instead, rough and wide, his voice low in your ear telling you what a mess you were making.

two fingers slid in, easy from how wet you already were. you arched into the feeling, thumb rubbing your clit just right.

and that’s when you heard it.

the door.

you froze.

“well, well,” joel’s voice was rough, thick with something dark. “could’ve just come to me, baby.”

you stuttered, legs still open, fingers caught between your thighs.

“d-didn’t wanna bother you—”

joel was already across the room, already dragging those ruined shorts down your legs. “sweetheart, you botherin’ me is the best part of my day.”

his hands were hot, greedy. spreading you wide open. his eyes dropped to your soaked cunt and he groaned low in his throat.

“fuckin’ drippin’, huh? all this ‘cause i was workin’ too long?”

“mhm—” you tried to answer, but his mouth was already on you.

his tongue was slow, firm, dragging through your folds like he was starving. he licked up every drop you’d made, groaning like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

and then his thumb pressed against your clit, fast little circles that made your hips jerk.

“joel—fuck, joel—”

“you needed this bad, huh?” he muttered, voice slurred with spit and cum. “shoulda just told me, baby. i’ll always take care of you.”

his fingers replaced yours, two thick ones sliding in deep, curling just right. you clenched around them instantly, needy little whimpers falling from your lips.

“god, that tight little pussy,” he grunted, watching your face. “so fuckin’ greedy.”

you were so close—he could see it, feel it. and he didn’t stop until you were coming hard, clenching around his fingers, slick gushing out with a filthy squelch.

but he wasn’t done.

he stood, unbuckling his belt, jeans hitting the floor. his cock was already hard, thick and flushed, tip shiny with precum.

“gonna give you what you really needed,” he growled.

and he did.

he pushed in slow, stretching you open inch by inch, and you moaned like he was the only thing you’d ever needed.

“fuck, you’re full,” he hissed, bottoming out. “takin’ me so well, baby.”

he fucked you hard—deep, relentless thrusts that had you crying out, nails dragging down his back.

“gonna cum inside, fuckin’ fill you up,” he growled against your neck. “let you drip with it after. show you who you belong to.”

and when he came, thick spurts of hot cum flooding your pussy, you swore you saw stars.

ᖭ༏ᖫ

thank you for reading. reblogs & feedback appreciated.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Trouble

Summary: Bucky Barnes x fe!Reader -> When Bucky first meets you, he thinks you're nothing but trouble. Eventually, it becomes a nickname you answer to.

Disclaimer: fluff with steamy moments at the end, enemies-ish to lovers, hint of fake dating as Bucky is Reader's wedding date, Bucky gets a little jealous, sharing a hotel room, reader works for Shield, Sam and Maria are mentioned to be engaged, swearing. Not fully proof read.

“Hey, Trouble.” 

You gave a short sigh, but kept the smile on your face. “Morning, Buck.”

Bucky had been calling you ‘Trouble’ since the first day he met you. Granted, having first met you, he thought you were trouble. You’d been inside a building they were surveying and he mistook you for one of the gang members he and Sam had been watching for the last three months. You’d given them the slip that evening, only to turn up in their Monday morning meeting. 

Hill had hired you. 

“Hill, she’s nothing but trouble. We caught her-”

“I know you did.”

Sam looked at his fiance. “And you’re still gonna hire her?”

Maria nodded with her arms folded across her chest. In honesty, it was more like a shrug before she turned to you. You’d been far too relaxed in your seat since Bucky had walked inside. Just another indicator that you were trouble. And you were smiling. Smirking? 

Maybe a bit of both. 

“I was a Fed.”

“You’re a Fed?”

You shook your head. “Was. Was a Fed.”

Maria continued for you. “She graduated first in her class in everything. Field work and academics, alike. Y/n has been on our radar for a while.”

Because you were trouble.

Bucky felt Sam nudge him. “Subtitles, Buck. You might not be saying anything but we can see it on your face. I can see it on your face.” 

Bucky just scowled more. Sam rolled his eyes. 

“Credentials like hers don’t come across my desk too often these days. I wanted to see if she was the real deal so I sent her to tail you two.”

Both men did a double take of Maria and yourself. “Us?!”

You laughed a little at their surprise. “Yes, you. You know, for two of the world's best Avengers you are both terrible at being secretive. In the space of three days I’ve managed to find out your routines.”

“Three-” Sam’s words spat from his mouth. “Three days?! You’ve had her following us for three days?”

Maria shrugged, again. “Told you training was coming soon. Gotta find a way to keep you both of your toes.”

It was then Sam’s turn to scowl. He understood why, but that didn’t make it any less frustrating. Three days? He and Buck had been followed for three days by-by-by a, a what, a teeneger?

It was only when you replied, “I’m in my 20s.”, did Sam realise he’d said his question out loud. 

“You’re a fetus.” Bucky said before looking at you. Biologically, he might be in his 30s. But his birthday was over a hundred years ago. 

You just smiled at him. 

“Y/n’s gonna be joining your team.” 

“What?” Bucky asked, almost giving himself whiplash as he turned back to Maria. 

“Relax, Sergeant Barnes.” He looked back at you. “I’ll mostly be working alongside Captain Torres. As fun as field work can be, I’m a lot more useful to both of you behind a monitor. So, if you ever need anything hacking. Government secrets? Secret chambers? That dating profile Sam set up in your honour?” 

Nearly giving himself whiplash again, Bucky looked at Sam. And, as guiltless as he tried to look, he failed. He’d set him a dating profile up? When?!

“You just let me know,” you smiled.  “Am I free to go, Director?”

Maria nodded. “Bishop agreed to meet you outside your apartment to help you get settled in.”

You nodded with a smile. “Thank you.” Then you turned back to your new teammates. “See you boys on Wednesday.”

That had been almost three years ago. It had taken all of twenty minutes for Bucky to adopt your new nickname. Trouble. In the beginning, it had been because he thought that’s what you were; trouble. Bad news. But, after a while, you started to wear him down. 

It had taken a week for Sam to get used to you, and less than five minutes for Torres. He liked the way you kept “the grump” as you called him, on his toes. 

Eventually the nickname of Trouble moved away from hatred to a little more affectionate. It did take you entering field duty again without letting anyone know, saving both Bucky and Sam’s lives when they got cornered in a run down mansion out in the middle of nowhere. 

But never once had you forced a smile at the nickname. So, when you said “Morning, Buck.”, Bucky stopped in his tracks. He looked up from his clipboard, silently watching you for a moment. 

Even if your entire body wasn’t dripping with sweat as you continued to pummel the swinging punching bag in front of you, and even if your hair hadn’t been frizzing out from your rough ponytail as the back of your head; Bucky still would have known you were stressed. 

You never forced a smile around him. You’d been exasperated, tired, exhausted, angry, kind, loveable, happy, joyful, excited and every other emotion around him. But never once had you faked a smile around him. 

Around others? Sure. That was how he knew this one was fake. 

“Hold your horses.” Bucky said as he walked closer to you. 

You sighed, pulling your punches from the bag before finally standing still. 

“What’s up?”

“Nothing-” You started, shaking your head. But he wasn’t biting. 

“No, not nothing. What’s going on? You’re glaring at the bag like it owes you six months rent. What’s going on?”

You sighed, completely exhausted. “Nothing, Buck. It’s fine. I swear.”

“Trouble?”

You looked at Bucky. 

For as long as you’d been alive, you’d been able to read people. Their inner thoughts, their deepest feelings. But nobody had ever been able to read you. 

Until Bucky. 

Sam tried his best, as did Torres. And, credit where credit is due, they did well. But that was only when you weren’t trying to hide it. A long day at work? A show ending the way you didn’t want it to? 

But days like this? 

You’d gone all week without letting people see. And you knew they couldn’t see. But Bucky? It was like he could see right into your soul. 

And it scared the crap outta you. 

“Bucky…” Your voice was soft, pleading for him not to dig. 

It took all of thirty seconds for him to look away from you, looking at the ceiling with a short sigh. “Alright, come on.”

Taking you by the shoulder, he stepped you away from the punching bag and hooked the clipboard under his arm before taking your wrapped hands into his. Then he started to unravel the bandages. He could already see the small bruises on your knuckles. 

“You’re gonna need to ice them.” 

He said nothing else as he unravelled your hands. Then, he took hold of one. He dropped the clipboard on the bench as he walked you both over to your gym bag before dropping your wraps into it. 

“Bucky-”

“Come with me.”

“Buck- Bucky.” You looked around you, confused as to why he was dragging you out of the gym. “James!”

He pulled you beside him before pressing a gentle hand on your lower back. 

“This feels like ‘The Quiet Man’. Where the hell are we going?”

“I’m getting you out of the compound.”

You almost started jogging beside him. “Okay, I get you’ve been trying to fire me since day one but you don’t actually have that authority.”

Well, at least you were still joking with him. Even if he had tried in the early stages, he hadn’t tried to get you fired in over two years. 

Eventually you stopped arguing, simply sighing and saying, “Fuck it.”

Whether he was gonna try and fire you, kidnap you or drag you to a church in Ireland to get married; it was better than staying in the compound, throwing punches hard enough to break the bag for a second time. 

Two hours later, Bucky’s motorbike was parked up in the dirt road behind you both as you sat beside each other, your legs hanging over the edge of the grassy hill. 

“Feeling better?” Bucky asked as you were half way through your food. 

You nodded, a lot calmer than you were back at the compound. 

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Then after a beat, he spoke up again. 

“You wanna talk about it?”

You shrugged. “Not much to say.”

“I think the punching bag might disagree.”

Bucky watched as a smile flexed subtly on your face. But after a split second, it disappeared. Your shoulders, somehow, dropped lower and you shook your head. 

“I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

“Then start at the beginning.”

“I’m starting to regret showing you the movies you missed.” 

Bucky chuckled to himself quietly. Since you had become friends…kinda…you’d taken it upon yourself. Or rather, you and Joaquin, had taken it upon yourselves, with Sam’s help, to bring Bucky up to speed on everything he’d missed since being in the ice. 

It was on the nights when it was just you and him; maybe Sam was called away by his sister or his fiance, or Joaquin went to see his family. It was on those nights where you’d show Bucky the true classics. The ones he would have secretly loved if he’d gotten a chance to see them when they first got released. 

They were some of his favourite memories with you. 

Taking in a breath, you tried to work out in your head where the beginning was. 

“Work’s kinda taking its toll on me.” Finally admitting that outloud felt a lot easier than you’d thought it would. Bucky seemed to always have that effect on you. He made things easier. “I, uh, I’ve been asked to guest lecture at my old Training Academy and they keep trying to make me agree to a full time contract. The students apparently have learnt a lot and it makes their attendance records look better than they have done in years. Though, I’m pretty sure they only attended the lecture in the hopes that Joaquin would turn up again.”

Bucky just sat and listened to you as you looked out to the rest of the city. 

“I enjoy doing them, and I know the students like asking questions some of the teachers won’t answer directly. But between the missions, and the intel gathering. That’s taking me a lot longer than it used to, by the way and I hate it. I used to be able to crack open almost anything. But since tech development or whatever…criminals are a lot smarter than they used to be when it comes to their encryption.”

You took a few more breaths before continuing. 

“My family has been calling more and more recently, too. Don’t get me wrong. I-I love em’. But…” You let out a long breath. “It’s everyday. They’re asking for new information and I don’t have it. I’ve had a good day – that’s all I can say. I’m not dead. I spend my day going over lines and lines of data. What the fuck am I meant to say? And then I got an invite through my door last week inviting me to my cousin’s wedding and the phone calls from home have basically tripled. I’ve had to switch my answering machine off. They were filling it; have you got the invite yet? When are you gonna reply? You’re gonna be sitting next to your aunt from your dad’s side, you know I can’t stand that woman. Have you got your dress yet? Your dress is important, you need to look your best for the photos, Grandma will want ten copies, have you got a date yet? Do you need a date? Do you want me to ask your cousin if she has any single friends? Or maybe her fiance knows somebody? You can’t come to a wedding alone. Or maybe it’s best, that way we can help you find someone-”

Bucky laid a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Hey, hey, okay. Okay, breathe. Deep breaths.”

You took some more deep breaths. 

“It’s a never ending cycle, Buck. I-I go from one extreme to the other and…and I don’t know what I’m meant to do. I love my family, but right now I can’t think of anything worse than flying home and seeing them right now. And, as much as I love my work, I’d rather wait before I see another line of data.”

Bucky didn’t say anything for a while. He just studied you. The way your shoulders fell, the way your true feelings and pure exhaustion took over your expression, the way your voice dropped from the hurried pace from earlier. 

“You’re burning yourself out.”

Now, you finally looked at him. 

“You need to take a break. Call Hill in the morning and tell her you’re taking two weeks. If you don’t, I’ll do it for you.” 

“But we’ve got-”

“The next mission won’t happen until next month. But you need a break. Y/n. And as for your family, what if I went with you?”

“What?”

“Take me as your date.”

A small laugh escaped you. “Bucky, you don’t-”

“What?” He leaned back, his expression teasing. “Too handsome?”

“It’s not that-”

“Too old?” Bucky gave a short gasp. “I gotta tell ya, that’s ageist.”

You laughed. “No, it’s not that. It’s just…you don’t have to do that for me.”

“Why not? You’re my friend.”

“Oh, we’re friends now?”

Bucky shrugged. “I won’t tell, if you don’t.”

You smiled, softly. 

“Come on, what could go wrong?”

You nodded, slowly. “My family will meet you and never want to let you go, that’s what.”

Bucky just shrugged again. “Can’t help it. Mom’s love me.”

“Bucky, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering. And I’m telling you to take the offer.”

You remained silent as you kept your eyes on him. Bucky watched as you bit your bottom lip pensively, like you were running through every worse case scenario before getting to the good ones. 

“Come on,” he whispered. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Finally, you agreed. “Okay.”

For the next two weeks, you spent most of your time relaxing, completing the jobs in your apartment you’d ignored over time and dress shopping for the wedding that would be taking place in two months time. 

By the time you got back to work, things felt less like a tsunami being thrown over you and after the mission, a wedding with your family didn’t seem too terrible. 

“Do I have to wear a bow-tie?” Bucky called out from the hotel room as you remained in the bathroom, fixing your make-up. 

You’d left him twenty minutes ago to get dressed. 

“According to the invite, it’s compulsory.” 

You heard Bucky groan a little before swearing at what you gathered was either himself, the invite or the bow-tie. 

“Why couldn’t it be a normal tie?”

“Because my cousin loves the idea of Old Hollywood.”

“Technically, when I went into the ice it was just known as Hollywood. And we wore ties.”

You chuckled, putting your lipstick brush down before quickly blotting your lips twice. Throwing the tissue into the bin by the door, you walked out of the bathroom, around and around the corner and back into your shared hotel room. 

“Parts of culture have been lost to time sadly, so bow-ties it is,” you said as you came into view. “Come here. I’ll do it.”

Bucky had caught a glimpse of you in the mirror, but seeing the real you. Not the reflected version…that was something else entirely. The colour complimented you in a way he’d never seen before, and the way it hugged and draped on your body was making his mind think things that he shouldn’t be thinking about his friend and co-worker. 

You were stunningly gorgeous. 

As you stood in front of him, so close that if he leaned forward just a touch, he could press his lips to yours,  his senses becoming filled with you and his hands itched to touch you. To hold you by your waist or your hips, just to keep you standing so close to him. 

“There.” You leaned back a little before looking at him with that smile that, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, had made him weak at the knees since the first day he’d met you. 

With your hands braced on his shoulders, you turned him around to face the mirror. “You look handsome.”

It wasn’t a genuine compliment covered up by a joke. You weren’t teasing him. 

You were being genuinely honest. 

And you tried to ignore the way he looked at you and the feelings it gave you in your chest, but meeting his eyes in the mirror only seemed to make that feeling grow. 

You hadn’t missed the way Bucky had stopped as you entered the room and how it took him a moment before his body kicked back into gear in order to stand in front of you. But you tried to ignore what you were feeling at seeing him dressed the way he was. 

Often he was in henley t-shirts and jeans when he wasn’t in his field uniform. So, seeing him all clean cut and in a tux was making you feel things. Since the henley’s were almost every day, you’d been able to, over the years, make yourself slightly immune to the feelings they gave you. 

But you’d never seen him in a tux. 

Even if you didn’t know he’d been in his 20s in the forties, seeing him dressed like this would have given you the feeling that he definitely had been in a past life. 

“We better go before we’re late.”

Bucky tried to find comprehensible words to say. The best he could come up with was, “Yeah.”

It wasn’t until the reception that he would finally be able to tell you how beautiful he found you. 

The wedding had been beautiful, every corner of the wedding venue being draped in silk. The dinner had gone off without a hitch. You and Bucky were seated together and despite the judgy comments from your aunt, Bucky held your hand throughout the entire thing, answering each question your aunt threw at him. 

And by the time people were invited onto the dance floor after the bride and groom, your aunt, happy with your choice of a date, nudged him to ask you to do as much. 

All he did was hold out his hand and looking from him, to the dance floor and back again, you took his hand. 

“I, uh, I don’t-” 

Bucky said nothing. With a light smirk on his face, he did what he’d wanted to do all night. Well, one of the things. 

Stepping into you, his hand firmly on your waist, he gently threw one of your hands to his shoulder before holding your other one firmly in his. 

“Okay.” Bucky heard you say quietly. 

His light smirk formed a small smile. “I might not know how to tie a bow-tie, but I do know how to dance.”

You nodded. “That. Is. Clear.”

You felt a little awkward, trying to keep your head away from the thoughts it was spilling into. 

Bucky chuckled and you felt his gravelly breath by the shell of your ear. “Just trust me, doll. I promise I won’t let you fall.”

You did, eventually, manage to relax a little as the song bled on. And, just as it started to feel easy and natural to be held by him in this way, his words sent both your head and your heart into a spin. 

“You’re gorgeous, by the way.” You leaned your head back a little to look at him. Was he fucking with you? “Stunning.”

You were thankful the lights were dimmer than they had been at dinner. It gave you at least a little cover for the heat that overtook your cheeks. 

“Thank you.”

Nothing else was said after that. You couldn’t keep looking at him, in fear that if you looked at him for too long, he’d be able to see right through you. 

So, with your temple resting against his, you let him lead you in a slow dance along with the rest of the couples. 

A little ways through the dance, you felt Bucky’s hand on your waist dip a little lower and onto your hip before moving to your back where you could feel his fingers softly trailing up and down your back against your dress. 

You felt yourself shiver at his touch. 

Bucky smirked a little by the shell of your ear. “Cold?”

When you spoke, your voice felt a little strangled to your ears. “No.”

You heard a small hum from his chest before he pulled you closer, or maybe you stepped closer to him, and his fingers softly continued to trail up and down. 

A few songs later, both you and Bucky sitting at a new table that your mother had dragged you to, you were asked to dance with someone your uncle had dragged over to meet you. And throughout your entire dance with the new guy, you just wished you were back in Bucky’s arms. 

However, as you danced, you failed to notice the way he was looking at you. But your cousin hadn’t. When Bucky’s eyes fell on you, he had a mixed look in them. Complete adoration and love, and that he could eat you alive. But when his eyes fell on the guy you were slightly awkwardly dancing with, a darker look took over. 

Jealousy. 

You’d told her that you’d be bringing a date, and from what your family had told her, your date was just a friend. But having watched both of you dance, and the way Bucky was looking at you…you certainly were not ‘just’ friends. 

And even if you were, it wouldn’t be for long. 

Then Bucky stood, carefully making his way over to you. And the look in your eyes when you spotted him making his way over…

Your cousin was certain the next wedding she would be attending would be yours.

“Mind me cutting in?”

The guy shook his head and stepped back, saying quiet words of kindness to you. But once you found yourself in Bucky’s arms, you felt yourself melt. 

“Thank you.”

“You looked like you had a stone in your shoes, trying to dance with him.”

“That’s kinda what it felt like. Glad to know I’ve got acting skills to fall back on if I ever want to quit. Or if you get me fired.”

“I’ll only get you fired if you start causing trouble, Trouble.”

A light smile appeared on your lips for a few seconds before you disappeared into his shoulder to hide your face from him. 

Two more dances and a conversation split between three different groups later, you were ready to go home. You said goodbye to your cousin, both you and Bucky complimenting her and the wedding before taking your leave. 

By the time you got back to the hotel, taking your heels off in the lobby, thankful to feel the cold marble floor beneath your feet, the clock was starting to reach midnight. 

Bucky took your hand in his, leading you to the elevator. And where you both could have stood opposite each other, without thinking, he pulled you into his side. Both of you stood in the centre of the elevator, Bucky leaned over and pressed the button to your floor. 

In the silence, Bucky watching the numbers climb higher and higher, you took time to look at him. The shape of him, his jawline. He’d taken his jacket off and given it to you on the walk inside to the hotel. The bow-tie was now loose and around his neck. 

“You’re staring.”

For the first time that night, you didn’t look away from him. 

“Can’t help it.”

Bucky looked back at you just before the doors to the elevator rang open. There was a soft smirk resting on his lips. 

“Come on, Trouble.”

Leading you out of the elevator, you pulled the hotel room key from your purse before sliding it into the door. With a beep, the latch unlocked itself and you pushed the handle down and Bucky helped you push the door open. 

The entire room was quiet. The moonlight floated behind the soft curtains, lighting up a few spaces on the carpet. The room remained quiet as you and Bucky walked around before he opened up the two dividing doors that led to his bedroom. 

Looking over your shoulder, you watched the muscles in his back tense as he opened the two doors and walked inside. And, despite wishing to stay and watch the show of Bucky getting undressed, you moved towards your bathroom. Zipping down the side panel zip, you let the gown fall to the floor before you pulled the clean pajamas you’d left on the counter over your head and up your legs. 

Despite the hour, you and Bucky stayed up a little longer to talk. He was back in a henley shirt and some long plaid pajama bottoms. 

The same ones you’d bought him when you’d been his Secret Santa two years ago. 

Your make-up had long been washed away and you and Bucky spent at least forty minutes gossiping about what the third cousin on your mom’s side had been wearing in replace of a hat. 

Then you had to say your goodnights. 

Only, as he closed the dividing door behind him, you felt like something was missing. You wanted him to stay. You wanted to keep talking to him. You wanted him…you wanted him to touch you the same way he had done on the dance floor, his voice gravelly by your ear, sending goosebumps across your body in a way nobody had ever done before. 

Little did you know, Bucky wanted the same. 

He could hear your footsteps on the carpet behind the door. The soft light from the lamp in your room shone under the door and he could see your shadow walking back and forth. Each time you walked back to the door, so did he. Only to then see it walk away, so he did the same. 

For the fifth time, you walked back towards Bucky’s door. Except, before you could walk back across the rest of your room, the door opened. 

And there he was. In the glow of moonlight from his own room, barely six feet from you. Neither of you said anything for a few moments, just letting the silent conversation pass between you. 

“I don’t want tonight to end.”

The words slipped from your mouth before you could stop them, or reword them. But you didn’t need to. If anyone understood you, it was Bucky. 

You didn’t know who moved first, but barely a second later, Bucky’s hands were pushing through your hair, pulling you closer as his lips crashed against yours. Throwing your arms over his shoulders, you pulled him closer before fisting his t-shirt. 

A moan vibrated from his chest as you pulled him closer, letting his kiss deepen. His finger ran through the lengths of your hair, gently pulling. 

As his steps carried him forward, yours carried you back until eventually he spun you, lifting you into his arms. Feeling your back secure against the wall, his hands supporting you, your body rocked against his hips as he leaned forward, driving your own further into the wall. 

You moaned a little as his tongue slipped past your lips and his fingers squeezed at your flesh. 

By the time you both woke up in the morning, breakfast had long been over, the sheets would be a completely tangled mess. And yourself and Bucky would be in a similar position; limbs tangled with one another's, heartbeats steady enough it could be mistaken for one, and the feeling of his fingers trailing up and down your spine. 

[lemotmo]

😂😂😂

Q. You all keep screaming Buddie Canon. You're even running to the 911 socials and screaming it. Do you actually not know what canon means? You all do understand that the only Buck relationship that currently exists within the ACTUAL canon text of the show is BuckTommy? Canon means actually confirmed on screen. Not in fandom. Not online. Actually acknowledged as fact within the text. Just thought you might find this helpful.

A. I'm very aware of what canon means, thank you very much. I'm also very aware of what context, subtext, and story building is as well, all things you seem to be completely unaware of. So just for the record it is NOT canon that Tommy had a troubled home life. It is NOT canon that he's autistic. It is NOT canon that he was a victim of bullying his whole life. It is NOT canon that he treated Chim and Hen like shit because he was afraid to let everyone else know how sensitive and caring he really is. It is NOT canon that both Chim and Hen forgave him for the way he treated them and consider him a good friend now. It IS canon that he tried to out Buck to Eddie and has now tried to out Eddie to Buck. It IS canon that he sees Eddie as his competition as far as being with Buck is concerned. It IS canon that he was only willing to try again with Buck because Eddie is now 800 miles away. It IS canon that he's condescending. It IS canon that everything about Buck, other than his physical appearance, seems to irritate him. It IS canon that Buck now knows he was never in love with him, not even close. It is also NOW canon that he's pathetic and in fact willing to be someone's second choice so long as their first choice isn't actually physically nearby. This was fun, anon.

Thank you Nonny.

As for Ali's answer?

OOOPS! 🤭🤭🤭

Puh-lease! Most of us have been in the trenches for 7 seasons now. We know exactly what the word CANON means. You know what else we know? We know that CANON isn't always the most important thing of all. We have succesfully been shipping a fanon ship fraught with romantic subtext for years now, throughout all of their failed CANON relationships, such as BT. And look where we are now...

Our patience has finally paid off. Both of them are single and there are obvious CANON signs that one of them is starting to realise the truth about their relationship.

I cannot wait for the next episode! Bring it on!

IMPORTANT! Please don't repost this ask and/or a link that leads straight to my Tumblr account on Twitter or any other social media. Thank you!

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[kenyummy]

so funny trying to see johnny try 2 be nonchalant after saying "special spider" like it was nothing... you are not fooling anyone boy... also wing girl mj?? bless her i love u mary jane.

+ which member of the batfam do you think reader is most likely to 'forgive'? like they dont seem to much like any of them, but who would u say is the least least favorite? -🍎

for your ask; assuming you're talking about spidey as the reader—they're not very inclined to "forgive" any of them, if that makes sense.

they don't really know any of the batfam, they just took the place of an already existing person and is now having to live their (pretty sad) life. while the fam are feeling mountains and loads of guilt for not being there for you, for not protecting you like they should've—

in reality, it was really your fault you were shot in the first place. you sensed the bullet and could've dodged it easily, but then it would've hit the man in front of you, and you couldn't have let that happen. you're just not that type of person

but they don't know that—they think you had just become victim to the evils and horrors of gotham and you need to be coddled so this never happens again!!!

in general, spidey doesn't really feel anything toward the fam. they think they're all pretty big assholes from how they act toward both them and dc!reader (as far as they can tell from the diaries and hundreds upon hundreds of messages left on delivered), but it's not spideys place to forgive them, so they kind of just never will.

and that's what drives them REALLY nuts because they're really trying their hardest and yet its like you want nothing to do with them!!! (you really just donr want to talk to them bc you have bigger problems to worry about; but they don't know that).

they have a soft spot for kids (which will play a part in the future story) and every spider is good with kids, so by default damian would probably be the easiest for spidey to like. (chapter 4 watch out for him hegfhehehe)

HOWEVER if we're talking about dc!reader, it's probably either dick or jason (talking about sibling/parent family, so no babs, steph, kate kane, luke fox etc.) as they did have a very strong bond with them until jason died.

it's less because they did the least to dc!reader and more because they simply just want the love of their two oldest brothers back—still craving the care they used to get that was robbed of them so unfairly.

anddd OMGGG chapter 2 johnny thinks he's slick... he is not!!! everyone and their mother knows... the serial playboy flirt hasn't been serial playboy flirting for the past couple months... and he's been giving this weird spider googly eyes... I wonder... 🤔🤔🤔🤔

he's so whipped for spidey and deep down he knows he is obvious as HELL and he punches himself mentally every time he says something that shows his genuine feelings (he thinks its corny as hell). don't worry, spidey will get it one day!

mj the only wingwoman ever!!! being an unofficial third wheel is just as bad, if not worse, than being an actual one—she's tired of seeing you two pine; just make out already!!! geez, with all those fancy parties you both go to, you'd think a pair would find a storage closet at some point.

THANK YOU SM 🍎🍎🍎🍎 THIS WAS SO FUN TO ANSWER ☆☆☆

[kesujo]

Baby, Mommy's Here

I HAD TO WRITE AN EMERGENCY TAEYEON FIC BECAUSE OF THESE PICTURES (those who follow me sorta have gotten some not-so-subtle hints of the release of this fic :p)

ALSO, ENJOY THIS ONE TOO

I didn't edit/revise this b/c I'm sort of in a hurry. Please let me know if you find any mistakes! :D

Word count: 12.8K

Never in your life did you think you’d be in such a relationship. The past you might’ve judged you for it—scratch that, the past you would’ve hard judged you for it, maybe even going so far as to looking down on you for letting yourself acclimate to such a relationship. However, now that it’s happening, it’s like you’ve been truly awakened. This is the best way life is to be lived; sure, there are many people who give you weird looks, sure, some of your friends make fun of you and in fact, you get the feeling that some of them have distanced themselves from you upon learning of the type of relationship you’re in, but you’re long past the point of caring about that. In fact, Taeyeon herself has helped you get over the judgmental attitudes the ones who were close to you have adopted towards you.

What have you ever done to deserve your current lifestyle? You figure you must’ve been Mother Theresa or Ghandi in your previous life to get this type of treatment and attention from the peak specimen of a woman that is Kim Taeyeon.

Beautiful, sexy, confident, but also kind, caring, gentle, empathetic … what does she not have? Money, certainly, isn’t the answer to that question: and while, as you’ve experienced, her level of wealth very much grants Taeyeon the ability to live as lavishly as any other multi-millionaire CEO, and the combination of her attractive appearance and personality makes it so that she should be able to get together with any man in the world. But, for some reason, she settled for you.

Rather, it’s not ‘for some reason’.

“This is a secret from the public, and I prefer you keep it this way.” Of course, you nod frantically. It was one of the first times you’ve seen Taeyeon in person, and being this close to her is making your heart go haywire and turning your brain to goo. “I am … shall I say, nearly infertile.” It was one of your first meetings, so hearing her being so vulnerable to you makes you feel thankful that she feels like she can be this way with you but also unworthy of bearing this knowledge. Still, you say nothing and let her continue. “That is to say, there are only certain men that I am compatible with, and even amongst those men, it would still be troublesome for me to become pregnant. And, as a woman who wants to have children of her own, you can see where my issue lies.�� You nod again. Frankly, you don’t trust your voice to crack or to not stammer out even single-word replies.

“And that’s where you come in. I believe you participated in a test group regarding your own fertility?” You rack your memory – did you? You’ve signed up to participate in all sorts of studies, because you figure, why not, really? It can’t hurt that much, you’re helping the advancement of science, and you’re so unremarkable that you figure no one would the type of information these test groups ask for. “The researchers did indeed, use your specimen for its intended purpose, but in return for funding them, I had them also test for compatibility with me.” That sounds … vaguely illegal? But honestly, you can’t care less. Of all the test groups you’ve participated in, this is by far the greatest outcome, the best reward you’ve ever gotten. “And, it turns out, we’re compatible. Also, it doesn’t hurt that you’re quite cute.”

As a man, you perhaps shouldn’t have felt so happy hearing that from a woman. However, given that Taeyeon is almost a decade older than you, you’re more than happy to be her cute little partner. “Th-Thank, Thank you.”

Your face turns beet red, but Taeyeon simply smiles at your stammering. “No need to be shy. You’re mine now, and likewise, I’m yours.”

So she says, but the dynamic of the relationship quickly becomes clear: because Taeyeon has a lot of business to attend to, it’s often times you helping take care of the house along with the staff of house caretakers Taeyeon has at her disposal. She’s the one with the money, and she’s also insisted that your only job to be help her out with her job whenever she so asks for it, which you feel is much less frequently than she could be.

Essentially, realistically, Taeyeon is your sugar momma. And this relationship, while you figured might’ve felt a little demeaning at first, is perfectly fulfilling.

When Taeyeon is home, she’s the typical caring, doting wife, albeit with the caveat that she sometimes requests massages from you after a long day of work or vents to you about a project that’s being bottlenecked by something or another. When you’re outside with Taeyeon, the paparazzi that seems to be perpetually following you probably would never guess this bit about your dynamic: you pay for the meals as much as Taeyeon does, you still hold the door open for her, and you still drive the car more than she does if you two ever feel like not utilizing her personal chauffer.

In private is where the dynamic is a little more obvious: whenever Taeyeon requests something of you, you instantly drop whatever it is that you’re doing and rush to her side—but then again, that could just be seen as a doting, caring partner. And, of course—

“Ooh, honey, yes…”

It’s an absolutely hypnotic sight, seeing Taeyeon grinding against your crotch with your dick buried inside her to the hilt, her head thrown back and her hands on your waist. You’ve, of course, seen pictures of her all over the place, but the novelty of seeing those sizable tits hanging out in the open, each decorated with a squeezable bud at the tip that’s begging to be squeezed, but you don’t dare act out of line. In the first few months of your budding relationship, you feel like you’re fighting to show her your worth.

“Gosh, it feels so good…”

The sex is amazing, and you can’t get over how great Taeyeon’s pussy feels, and that in combination with the soft, velvety texture of her skin against your hands drives you insane, but somewhere in the back of your mind, you can’t help but feel that this is still somewhat transactional.

“Fuck, Taeyeon…”

That thought only slightly detracts from the sex. The moment you entered this relationship with Taeyeon, she requested you to leave your previous job and to work for her—she doesn’t give you much work, though. It’s more like menial tasks, like, ‘please sort through my email inbox every morning and delete all the obvious spam and junk mail’, ‘please help me find a good place for a dinner with some stockholders’, that kind of stuff. You don’t particularly mind: you want to make yourself as useful to Taeyeon as possible.

“Does that feel good, honey?”

You can tell Taeyeon is putting in effort into this relationship, though: from day one, she all but ditched calling you your real name in favor of these pet names, such as ‘honey’, ‘baby’, ‘sweetheart’, et cetera. You’re thankful of her for that. In fact, it only makes you want to prove your worth to her even more.

“Yes, it feels so good, Taeyeon.”

You, on the other hand, don’t feel like you’ve earned the right to call her those pet names yet. It almost feels like you’re a puppy wagging its tail at its owner, seeking approval and validation and attention, something you might’ve ordinarily felt as demeaning now feels actually somewhat fulfilling. Every day, you strive towards this singular goal: be worth of being the man Taeyeon chose as her partner.

“Are you close?”

“Almost…”

Taeyeon takes your hands and places them on her boobs. “You like these, don’t you?”

Would it be ruder to blatantly, but honestly say, ‘yes, I love them so much, I sometimes find myself unable to stop looking at them’, to not say anything at all, or to deny it?

“You don’t have to deny it, baby.”

Seeing the reassuring smile on Taeyeon’s face is what lets you respond with, “Yes, I love them.”

“You know, you’re my partner. You don’t have to sneak peaks at my boobs, you can just look at them.”

It’s a growing process, for sure. Gradually getting used to each other, getting over your initial feeling of intimidation of Taeyeon after learning about how much of a sweetheart Taeyeon is outside her sharp, crisp, always-fashionable and always-beautiful CEO look takes some work, and Taeyeon is helping along with that process tremendously.

“Thanks, Taeyeon.”

You try to resist squeezing those almond nipples for as long as possible, but in the end, you’re only human. And then, hearing Taeyeon moan when you finally give in feeds the fire, and suddenly, you’re all over her boobs, grinding and smacking into her pussy while your hands carefully knead and massage her tits and give her nipples the occasional squeeze that sends Taeyeon into another moaning frenzy.

“Yes, keep going!”

“Taeyeon, I’m close. Where…?”

“Go ahead, baby! Inside me!”

You almost don’t know why you asked. Every single time the two of you have had sex, without fail, Taeyeon has insisted that you cum inside her—and, despite the sheer number of times it’s happened, she still has yet to become pregnant. It’s gotten to the point where you’re starting to wonder if it’s an issue with you, but Taeyeon has reassured you that isn’t the case—the test group that you partook in also returned results of your own fertility, of which is in the normal range for the average male.

“Fuck, cumming—”

And, without fail, every time you burst inside her, the hot, sticky walls of Taeyeon’s pussy squeezes you dry, coaxing out every last drop as if milking you for all that you were worth.

After letting you ride out your orgasm, Taeyeon dismounts you and lays by your side. “That was great, honey.”

How kind and considerate Taeyeon is only makes you feel worse, knowing that you still have yet to make her cum a single time. At least, as far as you know. You don’t dare bring this up, though; it’s an awkward subject, despite how many times you’ve came inside her already, and you don’t want to remind Taeyeon of your inadequacy.

“Yeah, it was,” is all you can say, for now.

In any romantic relationship, mutual attraction is a must. At least, in your books, it is. Maybe it’s the nature of a CEO like Taeyeon to take a more calculative stance on romantic relationships—but then again, you don’t believe that, seeing how Taeyeon takes the time out of her busy day to spend time with you: watching movies, having meals, chatting about random things, going golfing or go-karting or renting out an entire amusement park for a few hours to have fun in. For you, attraction to Taeyeon is instant, and only solidifies over time: for Taeyeon, you can tell it’s taking some time.

You do everything in your power to expedite the process: you take on cooking, taking lessons from Taeyeon’s personal chef so that you can cook meals for your 100-day and 200-day anniversaries, and although you consider yourself more knowledgeable than the average guy in this area, you still take more time to learn about fashion and makeup so that you can be at least somewhat presentable next to Taeyeon in public, you carefully plan out surprise dates for her to get her to stop thinking about work for a bit, and as time passes, you can start noticing the difference. Taeyeon is gradually, actively, making more effort to spend time with you, even going so far as to push deadlines or forgo work once every month or so, and it’s immensely gratifying to see your hard work paying off.

There are other ways you can see your hard work paying off, too.

“Oh my gosh, baby, I’m—!” Taeyeon, relentless as ever, demanded a second round before going to sleep that night, and it’s before your second orgasm that you’re finally able to see Taeyeon succumb to hers, purely by your efforts. “—I’m cumming, oh my go—!”

Her svelte frame shudders and convulses beneath your own, her eyes now fully shut and her head pressed deep into the pillow. Her hips violently buck against your crotch, so you obey the unspoken request of her body: you don’t relent, you continue to fuck her fiercely, to let her ride out her orgasm by adding pressure your right index finger and thumb are applying to her clit, and drink in this marvelous sight. It’s a whole other type of novelty, to see Taeyeon’s climax before your very eyes. If you thought the sight of her nude body was a mind-shatteringly sexy sight, the sight of seeing that body rocking and vibrating as your cock continued to slam into the deepest parts of her womb is on a completely other level—and then, to know that it’s you who did this, who turned Taeyeon into this moaning, screaming, convulsing mess brings you to your own orgasm.

“Fuck, Taeyeon, I’m also cumming…”

“Let it all out, baby! Give me everything!”

When your orgasm subsided, you spent a few seconds recovering from the sheer intensity of that climax, taking a second before pulling out of her and letting your body fall onto the bed next to her.

“Wow … baby, that was amazing.”

“It was. You were amazing.”

“Mmm. Thank you so much, honey.” She gave you one last peck on the cheek before drifting off to sleep, a normally harmless and cute gesture of her gratitude that kept you up far too late. However, when you drifted off to sleep yourself, you found that, the next morning, you felt more refreshed than ever.

There were certain complications with their night activities, first and foremost being how often they needed to get their bedsheets cleaned. The fact that Taeyeon always went to sleep with your cum still leaking out of her pussy is definitely the reason behind it, and you’re somewhat shocked to find out that the normally pristine and proper Taeyeon didn’t think twice about soiling the bedsheets every time you bred her.

The second complication was, as the two of you grew closer, the sex started happening in places outside of the bedroom: at first, it was relatively private places like the shower or her wardrobe, but gradually evolved to such places as—

“Mmm, yes, right there, babe!” The sound of her ass slapping against your crotch echoes about the spacious kitchen. Taeyeon’s knuckles having turned white from the intensity of her grip on the kitchen’s island table as you relentlessly pound her into it. “Keep going!”

Taeyeon’s house is rather big—not mansion big, but still big enough to mandate a cleaning staff. In addition, Taeyeon’s personal chef comes every morning and leaves around noon: the schedule of the caretakers of her house is very precise, but there is still some kind of novelty in having sex somewhere other people frequent.

“Fuck, Taeyeon…”

It’s something you can never get tired of: the feeling of her soft waist in your hands, the sputtering of her juices onto your groin, the way your hips bounce off her bubbly butt, the beautiful melody of her moans, the sight of her, sweaty and hot and aroused, her back arched and her sizable tits jiggling with the force of your every thrust, watching your cock disappear between her flopping, glistening pink folds over and over again, all of it.

“Yes! Pound me into the table! Harder!”

Of course, you’re all too willing to comply. Given her rather small, frail-looking frame, you’ve learned that Taeyeon is able to take quite a bit of punishment, something you are more than willing to dish out whenever she asks for it. This isn’t the first time she’s asked you to be rough on her, so you’re more or less used to this type of dirty talk: however, what she says next is not something you’re used to.

“Grab my hair! Push my face into the table!”

You’re a little hesitant at first, but with how fervently she’s taking your cock, you realize she isn’t really giving you much space to argue. So, as always, you obey.

“Yes, mommy.”

As you reach out to grab a fistful of her hair, she turns a surprised eye to you. It’s only then that you realize what came out of your mouth.

“‘Mommy’?”

Why did you say that? You try to be careful with your words, but have lately been finding it easier and easier to let words slip out of your mouth without a second thought. And now that she was looking at you, a sudden pang of fear crept up inside you. Did you fuck up? “Um, I’m, I’m so sorr—”

“No…” There is clear conflict on Taeyeon’s face. On one hand, she’s surprised to hear you call her that, and part of her feels like she ought to be repulsed by it in some way, but part of her finds it hot. It’s not lost on Taeyeon that the nature of your relationship with you makes you her sugar baby, especially with the age gap that exists between you two. It’s … fitting. “…don’t be sorry. Keep going, baby.”

What happened? Is Taeyeon not mad? She seemed to be … somewhat accepting of it?

You don’t decide to push your luck though, and when she turns back around, you continue where you left off by grabbing her hair and, gently, pushing her face into the cold marble surface of the island table.

“Fuuck…”

You’re genetically compatible with her, and even your physical build is compatible with her: you’re at just the right height to comfortably drill into her from above like this, with her feet slightly raised and her ass in the air, smacking into your damp groin repeatedly. The wet sounds of the impact echo about the otherwise empty residence: outside, the gardener should be attending to the multitude of flowers and trees that surround the house, but there is no view inside the kitchen from anywhere the gardener might be.

“Yes, keep going, ruin me!”

“Fuck, Taeyeon—” you other hand leaves her waist and comes down, hard, onto her ass. She lets out a noise that lays somewhere between a squeal and a moan. “—you’re so much.”

“More, babe! Keep going!”

It’s second nature to you, by now, to obey her every command, but this is something you don’t need her to tell you to do. The second smack, then the third, the fourth, the fifth, and by the sixth, you can start to see a red imprint in the rough shape of your palm appearing on her otherwise pale, snowy-white romp.

“Fuck! Babe, please, it’s so good!”

Her words are slightly muffled by the fact that you’re pushing her face into the table; her face is turned to the side, but even still, her cheeks are so slim that even the slightest bit of pressure nearly causes her lips to be touching the marble.

“You’re so insatiable.” You’re using your knees to keep yourself aligned with her, one hand adjusting its grip on her silky, chocolate hair while the other alternates between caressing and smacking her juicy ass. “I love it.”

“I’m so close! Babe, please!”

The coolness of the marble surface is also pressing into her tits, and specifically, her erect nipples. On top of the ferocious pounding you’re giving her, the ass-smacking from one of your hands and the pressing on her head into the table from the other, the temperature play at yet another one of her erogenous zones is stimulating Taeyeon to the max. The longer it draws on, the more the intensity of your thrusts and the force of your hand onto her ass increases, and the higher she pushes herself onto the balls of her feet, doing everything she can to maximize the contact between you and her.

By now, you can more or less tell how close Taeyeon is to her climax; although you haven’t gotten it down to an exact science yet, you can tell that you’re going to reach your peak first. Ever since you’ve gained the ability to make Taeyeon climax, you selfishly want to make sure she’s reaching it every single time: of all the things you can never get tired of from Taeyeon, seeing her coming to an orgasm because of you is at the top of that list.

So, you use the cheat button. You stop slapping her ass, the red imprint on it just about glowing by now, and your hand dives between her legs. It takes a second to find her clit, but when you do, you don’t use it right away: you’ve learned that it’s more effective if you do what you’re doing now, which is to tease it by rubbing the perimeter of it first. Taeyeon, on the other hand, starts losing her mind; her moans become desperate yelps and whines, and when you finally reward her patience by squeezing on her pleasure button, she unfolds all at once.

“Fffuuuck!”

The goal was to at least align your climaxes at least somewhat, but you definitely weren’t expecting to make Taeyeon cum first. In fact, you’re so stunned by this that you momentarily stop moving, only reminded to keep going by Taeyeon’s urging.

“Yes, yes, yes! Fuck, I’m cumming so hard, oh my god, oh my—”

This is the first time that Taeyeon has reached her climax before you. Try as you might before, even doing foreplay such as cunnilingus or using your fingers, it was always you that buckled first. But now, seeing your misses unravel so completely, shaking and lathering your cock and your groin with her love nectar, turns you on so completely that your climax follows shortly after.

“Fuck, cumming—”

Taeyeon jolts again as the jet of warm, viscous liquid enters her womb. “Unng, fuck, yes, fill me up, babe!”

This time, Taeyeon didn’t have the benefit of the bedsheets to soak up the fluids flowing out of her hole; you help her clean up, and when she’s done, she pecks you on the lips. And that’s another thing you can never get tired of: the feeling of her soft, velvety lips on yours, and the fragrant aroma that wafts into your nose when her face presses into yours.

“I can’t believe how amazing that was, babe. You were … wow…”

You let out a laugh. “I’m glad you liked it. You were so sexy, as always.”

There wasn’t a room in the house that was spared from your and Taeyeon’s antics: the dining room, the living room, every room in the spacious abode became witness to your breeding attempts. Each had their own benefits, too: the dining room had the comfortable chairs that you could use, the living room had the open space and a TV to use to add into the fun, the game room was filled with various makeshift tools that enhanced the experience—such as using a pool stick as a yoke or restraint bar, forcing Taeyeon’s arms behind her back and leaving her completely helpless to you—and the music room, which she apparently had installed into her house because of some vocal lessons she eventually dropped due to lack of time, but something for which you can personally vouch for her insane natural talent of, whose excellent acoustics allow you to hear Taeyeon’s beautiful, musical moans in ways you’ve never heard them before. It wasn’t an everyday thing, though, nor even necessarily a once-a-week thing—in fact, there would even be stretches of two, three months with no sex. Someone as busy as Taeyeon simply didn’t always have the time, or would just come home and let you guide her to her bed and fall asleep to the full-body massage you’ve spent so much time learning to do.

It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows, though—being the publicly-known boyfriend of perhaps the world’s first idol-CEO, who first garnered attention for her immaculate looks at the fashion shows she would attend, then further fame from appearing on the Forbes’ ’30 Under 30’ list. What would the fanbase of an idol-CEO look like? It turned out, pretty similar to the fanbase of a singer-idol: from the moment your relationship with Taeyeon went public, the two of you were met with waves upon waves of backlash. Taeyeon, being used being in the spotlight and frankly, not particularly caring for these kinds of matters as her job wasn’t as closely tied to public sentiment as a singer-idol’s was, was barely phased by it. You, however: someone who was a nobody before this, who was a five or six out of ten at best, and now with the amount of effort you put into fashion and your appearance now, is perhaps a seven or maybe an eight if you squinted real hard and captured the exact perfect angle, but who looks like a four next to the perfect ten out of ten that Taeyeon always was, was bound to be met with heaps of jealous, indignant, angry fans.

It was easy enough to stop using social media—‘easy’ enough, that is—but when you’re just walking about normally, shopping for furniture or new shampoo or fetching some new makeup products that Taeyeon has you pick up? When Taeyeon proposed to hire a bodyguard for you, you immediately shoot it down. You, need a bodyguard? Who are you to require such a thing?

The answer was simple: the news articles of random people on the street harassing you, throwing junk at you, something you tried to keep quiet about but met Taeyeon’s wrath regarding when she found out, not from you telling her, but from a news article.

“How could you not tell me?!”

“I’m … I’m so sorry…”

“No! It’s not—” Taeyeon sinks into her chair and buries her face in her hands. “—it’s not you who needs to be sorry.” Her voice softens considerably, and it doesn’t take long for you to realize: she’s crying.

“Taeyeon? Honey?”

“You need to tell me about these things!” When she lifts her head to speak to you, your suspicions are confirmed: eyes sparkling, cheeks glistening with tears, lips pulled into a pronounced frown. “I can protect you! Why would you—”

“Because I’m a man!” You don’t intend to yell, but it’s too late. “I don’t want to need my girlfriend to protect me! I have a pride as a man, too, even if you’re the—” you don’t dare finish that sentence. You’re already yelling at her, you don’t need to step over that line.

“I’m the what?” she snaps. “I’m the CEO? I’m the older one? I’m the one with the money?”

“It—none of that matters. It wasn’t that big of a deal, anyway. A bruise here and there, it’s fine.”

“But it’s not fine! What if something worse happens down the line? If you continue to let these people walk all over you, what if they start throwing bigger, heavier things at you? What if you get hospitalized? What would I do then?”

“Why would you care, as long as my penis works fine.”

…

Wait.

What the fuck did you just say?

The silence is deafening. You can hear your heart racing inside your chest. It’s painful. It’s a twisting, churning sensation inside you, but worse than that is the fact that Taeyeon isn’t saying anything. You want to take it back. So badly. But, you can’t. What would you say?

“I—I need to go.”

“Honey, wait—”

For the first time since you’ve started this relationship, you disobey her. You continue walking, straight out of her office, and don’t stop until you reach a bar.

Is doing this going to ruin your reputation, and more importantly, Taeyeon’s reputation even more? Almost definitely. But at that moment, you don’t care. You probably don’t need to care much about Taeyeon’s reputation for much longer. You don’t remember the rest of the night at all, and wake up the next morning with a terrible, pounding headache. It takes a while to acquire your surroundings, and when you do, you realize you’re in the VIP room of the hospital Taeyeon’s doctor works at: a place you’ve visited to make sure you are, indeed, fertile, and for a few vaccines that you didn’t think of getting until Taeyeon suggested it.

Taeyeon, Taeyeon, Taeyeon. Your whole life revolves around Taeyeon. And now, what did you do to her? Imply that she’s only using you as a breeding horse, as if you can’t feel how much she loves you in the voice messages she sends you when she can’t come home about how she misses you, or the meal she cooked for you on your 400th day anniversary, or the various other gifts she showers you with because of some passing comment you don’t remember making the next day. All of that, and then that terrible thing you said to her, and she’s still taking care of you?

When the nurse bursts through the door and calls your name, your head is buried inside your hands. “Do you still have a hangover? I’ll get—”

“No, it’s ok.”

“…ok. Ms. Taeyeon is on her way.”

“I—” who are you to make demands of others? Especially since you’re only in this room because of her. Does she still love you? Does she still believe in you?

The next person to burst through the doors and call your name is none other than Kim Taeyeon herself. “Oh my god, sweetheart, I was so worried when I couldn’t get a reach of you and couldn’t find you at home…”

You listlessly try to escape her embrace, but Taeyeon is having none of that. She squeezes your head against her chest, and from the way you can feel her shaking, you can tell that she’s crying. Again. Because of you.

“I don’t deserve you, Taeyeon.”

“What?”

“Let’s be honest. I’m a nobody. You’re … you’re probably the only CEO in the world who has such a dedicated fanbase. Or, one of. Yet, you’re tying yourself down to me?”

“Don’t say that! I chose you because I love you!”

“No, you didn’t.” Taeyeon releases her embrace of you. This time, you meet her gaze. You feel like you need to. “You chose me because I’m compatible with you, right?”

“Oh…” Why does Taeyeon look so crestfallen? Seeing her in such a state twists at your heartstrings, so you stay silent and let her gather her thoughts. “…that’s not what I meant. It’s true, that I initially chose you because of that, but … I meant, I chose to stay with you because I fell in love with you. I chose you. Not because of your compatibility with my condition, but because of you. Not because of your penis, or your genes, or anything.”

And, the thing is, you know this. Is it simply because it’s hard to believe? That an amazing, a perfect woman like Taeyeon would ever want to be with someone like you? Is it that pride you have, as a man, that makes you want to be stubborn?

“I’m sorry.” It doesn’t matter what it was. Taeyeon, just her being here with you, despite how busy she must be, despite the fires she must be trying to put out regarding news articles that have probably been released about the boyfriend of the famous idol-CEO Kim Taeyeon found passed out drunk at some random bar, is enough to forget all of that. “I didn’t mean to say those words. It was wrong of me.” Taeyeon’s lips are already being pulled into a frown, and her eyes are already starting to tear up again, but when you say, “I know this is asking a lot … but can you forgive me?” she bursts out into a sob.

“Of course! Of course, I forgive you, honey!”

The bodyguard was only necessary for the next two months; after Taeyeon released a public statement, threatening to sue for damages and the netizens for their defamatory comments, you found being in public much more bearable. That hurdle in your relationship seems to have flicked something in Taeyeon, who finally started giving you more work after you asked her so many times for it, in the hopes that you can help alleviate her immense workload. Was it your comment about still having pride as a man? Who knows, really. What was important was that, now that you could help Taeyeon with her duties, she could be home much more often. The times she couldn’t be home, for the various business trips her duties as a CEO dictated, however, she decided to start taking you along.

As any multi-millionaire CEO, Taeyeon has her own private jet and her own crew for the jet, including a pilot and co-pilot. However, what was different about this jet was one aspect—a rather large aspect, honestly. One room inside the jet, with stabilizers in three dimensions to reduce the impact of turbulence for the people inside the room. Why would that be necessary when seatbelts are the common solution to turbulence?

“Mmm, ooh, ooh yeah…”

Taeyeon’s face is inches above your own, her eyes gently closed as your cock, firmly wedged between her legs and inside her swelteringly hot pussy, pries apart her tight walls. With every thrust, more of her juices sputter out onto the comforter covering the bed you’re lying on, and with every thrust, Taeyeon’s moans split through the loud hum of the jet’s engines.

“Fuck … I’m going to miss this so much…”

“So this is why you had this bed installed in your jet, huh?” Your hands are firmly planted on either side of her hips; even though the room is being stabilized in all degrees of motion, you still need to keep her in place so you can plow into her with the force her tight pussy demands of you. “To get some last-minute cock before toiling away on this business trip?”

Taeyeon smiles at you. It’s a mischievous, playful type of smile, one that reminds you that Taeyeon is more than the strict, calculating CEO, or even than the warm-hearted, kind and caring girlfriend, that she makes herself out to be. “So what if I did?”

“I would’ve said, ‘I didn’t know my girlfriend was such a fiend for my cock’, but then, I would be lying, wouldn’t I?”

Ever since that incident, the two of you have grown closer than ever before. It’s maybe something about voicing your insecurities about the relationship, how you feel inadequate in your desire be the protector despite Taeyeon having more of the means to act in that capacity, but after smoothing all that out, the hesitance of teasing Taeyeon too much or of belittling her a little in jest has gone away once you realize, ‘Oh. Taeyeon just wants me to treat her like any other girlfriend would. Just because she’s my sugar momma, doesn’t mean she’s my superior. In a relationship, both partners are equal, and this one shouldn’t be any different.’

“I would be sad if my boyfriend didn’t already know how much I loved feeling his cock destroy my wet, tight little pussy.” There’s something about Taeyeon’s dirty talk, too. It just … gets to you. Taeyeon has such a regal appearance in public, and in private, such a cute, traditionally pretty appearance, that hearing such filth coming out of her lips almost feels wrong. It feels like it doesn’t belong somehow, and that contrast is exactly what does it for you. “And how I love it so much, I spent millions to get this built for us, just so I could squeeze in an extra few hours of feeling his thick, veiny cock splitting my walls apart and feeling his hot, creamy cum spill into me.”

You’re going to go crazy. That’s for sure. It’s how you feel every time Taeyeon dirty talks to you, which you have noticed has been increasing in frequency as of late.

“God, I can’t believe you, Taeyeon…”

“I’m right here, babe. Believe in me.”

“You’re … what did I ever do to deserve you?”

Taeyeon doesn’t answer, and instead places her hands on your cheek and leans in for a kiss. It’s an incredible feeling every time, feeling the warm, plump, soft texture pressing against your lips, and then feeling her tongue against yours, but especially when in combination with the feeling of her body pressed against yours, and feeling her wet, hot snatch trying to squeeze the life out of your cock—you feel even further above the clouds than you already are.

Your bodies move in unison, both of you moaning into the kiss that are subsequently drowned out by the ever-present roaring of the jet engines. For privacy reasons, Taeyeon had the room soundproofed and doors locked; even meals were served on a food tray through a tiny slit that could only be opened from inside the room. And here lay the millionth benefit of dating the finest specimen of a woman on planet Earth: Taeyeon was always so thorough, especially when it came to your combined private time, that you knew you could enjoy it thoroughly without fear of any interferences.

“God, I love you so much, babe.”

“I love you too, Taeyeon.”

“You always tell me that you feel lucky to have me, but haven’t you ever stopped to consider how lucky I feel to have you?” Your movements aren’t forceful and vigorous as they are usually; this time, they’re slower and more sensual. This time, it feels more like lovemaking than baby-making, and you don’t really know how to deal with that. “You adapted to such a different lifestyle so quickly, you’re always willing to help me even in ways I couldn’t imagine, you’re always so patient with me, and you’re even willing to learn all the weird and highly-specified parts of my job so that you can help me with it, all so you can spend more time with me. I’ve met with and talked to many men in my life, but I doubt a single one of them could do as amazing of a job as my partner in life than you.”

It’s pretty overwhelming. Scratch that, it’s insanely overwhelming. Taeyeon, as any doting girlfriend, gives you compliments all the time, but none feel as heartfelt and sincere as this one. It feels like a balloon growing inside your chest, that you can imagine is your ego or sense of self-worth or something, and Taeyeon is pumping air into it with all the strength her skinny little arms can manage. Which is a surprising about, mind you.

What can you do with all this … this elation? A sense of pure love and warmth and caring and everything—it feels too much to bear. So, you do the only thing you know to do in such a situation.

“And none of them could fuck you like I do.”

The loving gaze in Taeyeon’s eyes shatters, her eyes disappearing into upside-down crescents and her lips pulled apart to allow for her laughter to spill out. She smacks you on the shoulder. “I’m trying to be serious here!”

You laugh along with her. “I love this. I love you. Everything. I’m the luckiest person in the world right now, to have you with me.”

“To feel such a hot, tight pussy squeezing your cock?”

“Oh, now who’s being the unserious one here?”

Taeyeon grins at you. “I’m like this because of you. You know that, right?”

“What? Little old me, corrupted the pure, innocent idol-CEO Kim Taeyeon?” Taeyeon smacks you on the shoulder again.

“I told you I don’t like being called that.”

“What? Kim Taeyeon? But that’s your name.”

“No, the other thing.”

“Oh, you don’t like being called pure or inno—” this time, Taeyeon interrupts you by suddenly starting to ride you, hard, causing your words to be cut off my a groan. “—fuck, babe…”

“Looks like mommy has to punish you for being such a naughty boy.”

Even with the constant droning of the jet engine’s roar, it’s like your ears can selectively pick out Taeyeon’s musical moans as she reaches her climax, and as you watch her ride you even more fiercely, you can only watch in absolute awe at the spectacle of Taeyeon succumbing to her orgasm atop your body, and the following visual of the creampie filling her cunt slowly trickling out of her hole and onto your body, and then onto the comforter when she rolls off you.

“So you’re coming around to that word, huh?”

Taeyeon nods. “I can’t believe I’m saying this … but it’s really hot.”

“Hmm, but not as hot as my mommy.”

Taeyeon nudges you a little, albeit with a smile on her face. “Shut up.”

Her response brings a smile to your own face. “Seeing as we’re not going to sleep, since it’s still probably around 6pm in our time, are you sure you don’t want to clean up?”

Taeyeon shakes her head. “I like feeling it inside me. Your cum. It’s so warm, and it feels like part of you is still inside me.” She leans against you and rests her head on your shoulder, which just so happens to fit perfectly into the crook of your neck. “Which, of course, it technically is. Or, was. Now, it’s mine.”

You let out a chuckle. “I didn’t know you were so possessive of my sperm.”

“I am! Your first baby should be with me. And all your babies in the future.”

“That’s the plan.”

Because of the privacy of the room, neither of you have to put on your clothes again, which are neatly stored in the modest closets that are also attached to the room. A little while after, the two of you enjoy dinner in the seats sat on the opposite side of the bed, facing it, while watching a movie on the TV hanging above the bed’s headboards, and then resume the movie cuddled up on the bed, watching it on the other TV situated between the seats, facing the bed.

There have been many instances in this new life that Taeyeon has pulled you into that made you realize that the wealthy actually live entirely different lives than most other people, and this is one of them. Even closing in on three years together, you’re still discovering all these new kinds of luxury that you couldn’t even fathom before meeting Taeyeon.

As the second movie’s credits start rolling, Taeyeon turns to you. “Ready?”

“Hm?”

Taeyeon swings her legs to the other side of your legs, her hands reaching down to rub your now growing erection. “I want more.”

The next time Taeyeon took you on a business trip, you immediately notice something different.

“Honey, who’s that seat for?”

Situated underneath the TV facing the bed is another, slightly wider, seat, with its backrest folded down. There seem to be some other things attached to it, but you can’t quite make out what they are.

“What do you mean? That’s for us.”

Taeyeon doesn’t elaborate further, only giving you a mysterious smile as you buckle yourselves up into the seats for takeoff. Once the captain notifies you that you’re free to move about the cabin, Taeyeon unbuckles herself from the seat and beckons for you to come.

“I still don’t understand…” you watch as she pushes the TV into the wall, pulls the seat out a little, and pulls up the backrest. And, as you watch it unfurl, you can start to see what she was going for.

“What are you doing with your clothes still on?” You chuckle but obey, storing your clothes into the closet, with Taeyeon following shortly. “Go ahead, sit down.”

“You seem … awfully excited about this.”

“I am!”

Both you and Taeyeon are switches. Sometimes, Taeyeon takes the lead and you’re more than ok with it, and sometimes, she lets you take the lead; sometimes, Taeyeon comes home from a long day of high-stress situations and you make sure she doesn’t have to make any more decisions, and sometimes, Taeyeon’s extended leave of absence from home makes both of you miss each other, which would more often than not result in Taeyeon exerting her will on you and you more than happy to be with her again. So, when you saw the wrist clamps extending about neck-level on either side of the backrest of the seat, you wondered who they were for: both of you, is probably the correct answer, but today, it was evident that Taeyeon wanted to use them.

“Hmm…” As your cock slides into her hot pussy, Taeyeon lets out a low moan, leaning back a bit onto your chest as she feels her walls being pulled apart, once again, by your girth. “Mmmm~”

“Always so tight for me, babe.”

“Always so hard for me, baby.” You plant a kiss next to her ear, eliciting a giggle; when you’re fully inside her, she directs you, “Help me with this?”

You turn your eyes to her hands—or, more accurately, her wrists, both of which are already inside the open wrist clamps. “You really want this?” Taeyeon nods fervently, so you waste no time in locking her wrists in place. And, just like that, her arms are suspended in the air, giving you full, unadulterated access to her entire body, left entirely to your whims.

“I’m all yours, baby.”

Such a situation is a dream-come-true for any sane, straight man: one of the most attractive, sexiest woman on the planet—in your eyes, the most attractive and the sexiest woman on the planet—giving herself up to you, fully. The only limbs she can control are her limbs, but after you start pounding into her, even those start shaking about helplessly.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, babe—”

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” You take advantage of her raised arms and wrap your arms around to grab a handful of those voluptuous boobs she was so carelessly showing off at the walkway to the airport—because, as an idol-CEO, fans still congregate to take pictures of her airport outfits, for some reason—and start palming them. Taeyeon lets out a sigh, arching her back and pushing her tits further into your hand. “You want a break from everything and just want to be coddled and pampered, right?”

Taeyeon nods, and although you can’t see it, you can feel how her head bobs up and down against your cheek.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take great care of you.”

“Ooh…”

Her voice hitches when you give her nipples a light pinch, but just as quickly as the stimulus surges through her body, so too does it dissipate. Your motions slow down to a sensual grind, and you can start to feel Taeyeon’s impatience building.

This is her doing. She chose to submit herself to you, and she should know how much you like building up the tension. As much as her display of ultimate submission makes you want to pound her into next Tuesday, you know this will yield a better result, for both you and Taeyeon.

“…baby…”

You plant kisses on her crown, then move to her cheek. She tilts that side of her head to you, giving you better access to her ears, which you take advantage of by nipping slightly. Every time your lips touch her face, Taeyeon seems to be holding in her breath a little bit more, and every time your fingers come dangerously close to her nipples, you can feel a sigh waiting to be released, desperately wanting to be released, but being held in at the last possible moment.

“Your boobs look so good in that outfit.”

“You told me this morning, honey.”

“So you can’t blame me for wanting to play with them a little bit more right now.”

“You can play with them while you’re fucking me harder, ri—” you interrupt her by planting a kiss right next to her lips, but not on them.

“You put me in charge, right?” Taeyeon nods. “Then, relax. Don’t think. Let me do everything for you, baby.”

Taeyeon follows your commands to a tee, sinking and sinking into your slow movements, practiced motions that you’ve taken years to perfect. Every square centimeter of Taeyeon’s body, you know, and you use that knowledge to tease out every last ounce of desire and wanting from her small, skinny, but somehow curvaceous frame.

“Ooh … my god…”

Your left hand leaves her boobs and travels south, and all it takes is one careful swipe of your finger along her entrance to reassure you how absolutely aroused Taeyeon has become.

“Hmm…”

“Open up.”

Taeyeon obeys, and you stick the finger slick with her juices inside her mouth. Instantly, her velvety lips close around the digit and her tongue goes to work, swirling around the finger and licking it clean. It’s not the first time you’ve done this to her, and it’s also not the first time you’ve wondered what letting loose a load between those pretty lips of hers would be like. To this day, all these years you’ve been together, all the various ways you two have fucked, and Taeyeon has still yet refused to let you cum anywhere but inside her. Not that you particularly mind, but every now and then, your mind starts to wander—what would she look like after a nice facial? How sexy would it be to see those slim cheeks puffing from an overabundance of your cum, with trickles of it escaping the corners of her mouth that she captures with her finger and feeds back into her mouth? What would these delectable tits, that have been the object of your fascination since Taeyeon put her airport outfit on this morning, look like with your cum smeared all over them? Or what about the juicy ass that she’s currently grinding against your crotch?

“You’re so unbelievably fucking beautiful, and so irresistibly sexy, Taeyeon.”

Taeyeon only responds with a sigh. You can hear the impatience in it—and, frankly, you’re nearly at your limit, too. You can start to feel her juices start to trickle down onto your legs and it’s this that becomes the last straw. The next sound Taeyeon makes is a loud yelp, in response to your fingers suddenly squeezing both nipples at the same time. “Ffuck!”

You start pounding into her, using the grip your hands have on her boobs as leverage to push her back and forth in your lap. Eventually, as you build up momentum, Taeyeon starts raising and falling, each time she lands back in your lap creating a nice, satisfying smack! sound that gets quickly drowned out by the airplane’s engines. Coincidentally, some faint rattling sound cuts through the air that you’ve come to realize is turbulence, something that the stabilizers attached to the room have prevented you from ever feeling. Unfortunately, you can’t make use of the bouncing of the airplane, but Taeyeon is light enough that you don’t need much help anyway.

“God, yes! Baby, please, more!”

You’re letting your hands follow the wild bouncing motion of her boobs as you bounce her on your lap, giving them the occasional squeeze as it does so. It always marvels you, how someone so small and so skinny can have such proportionally big boobs. She usually dresses a bit more conservatively in public, which is what made her choice of outfit this day so mouth-watering—Taeyeon rarely gives hints of her cleavage to the public, so when she reveals this much? You can only assume she was trying to seduce you, and it worked beautifully; before you even boarded the plane, you were having trouble trying to hide your boner. And now that it’s buried deep inside her, and now that her boobs are filling up your hands, especially since she’s given you full reign to do whatever you want to her, you intend to act on your horniness to its fullest extent.

“Don’t worry, honey, I’ll give you more.”

Among the many beautiful things about Taeyeon is her natural speaking voice, and that doubled for the voice with which she moaned her pleasure with. It only ever invigorates you more, to hear her moaning so animatedly, and your intensifying actions cause those moans to come out more frequently and with more frequency. It’s a self-feeding loop, a loop that only ends one way.

“Oh my gosh, babe, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum so hard—”

Your climax follows shortly after hers, and as you slump back into the backrest of the seat and Taeyeon rests her head against your chest, the salacious mixture trickles out of Taeyeon’s battered hole and onto the cushiony seat you’re seated upon. Your dick is still wedged inside aforementioned hole, and while you can feel some fatigue settling in, your dick’s efforts to soften is met with the fierce resistance of Taeyeon’s tight snatch, ever the hard worker.

“Baby…”

“Sorry, honey, just give me a minute…”

“…there’s a setting. On the right, there should be a button. On the armrest.”

When you first saw the button, you assumed it was to lean the seat back like any normal airplane economy-class seat, but now that you think about it, you realize how dumb that assumption was. There’s barely any space for this seat to lean back, and this seat is clearly not ‘like any normal airplane economy-class seat’.

“Oh, yeah.”

“Press it.”

“Hm, ok—oh, what the—” the seat starts bouncing, causing your dick to push a little bit deeper inside her. Taeyeon lets out a soft moan.

“Mmm, I’m so glad that works.”

“Taeyeon, what—”

“Do you mind?”

You can’t help but think of the meme that you aren’t sure is exactly a meme, ‘soaking’, the Mormon work around for couples to have sex without going through the physical motions of it. If it is indeed a thing, you wonder how much this kind of a chair would be worth to them.

“Does it feel good for you?”

Taeyeon nods. “Yes. God, yes, I love that feeling, of your cock fucking our creampie back inside me.”

If you weren’t being hit with your refractory period, Taeyeon saying such a filthy sentence would’ve caused you to instantaneously jump her—now, all you could do is let out a groan and put your hands back on her boobs.

“Fuck…”

“Do you like it?”

“I … I’m still, I still can’t, but fuck, I love the feeling of your boobs in my hands.”

The bouncing of the chair is rather slow—Taeyeon makes a comment about how she needs to tell them to modify it to have varying speeds, and then you briefly think about the poor engineers who have worked on this plane and have installed all sorts of various, weird things in it, with a probably pretty good idea for its use case but having to go along with it anyway—but the two of you stay like this while you recover. The chair pushes you in and out of Taeyeon while your hands continue to knead and squeeze the addictively soft and plush texture of her tits, and as your refractory period fades, you start adding to the chair’s efforts. You eventually transition to a standing position, with Taeyeon now facing the seat, her wrists again trapped by the wrist clamps, and you standing behind her.

“Fuck, yes, please, more!”

No longer having to fight gravity, the sound of her ass smacking against your drenched groin nearly overpowers the roar of the airplane’s engines. “Fuck, Taeyeon, I’m so close…”

“Give it to me, give it to me! Fill me up to the brim, baby!”

You let out a final, warning grunt before exploding, your second load bursting inside her—a notably lesser load, but one that still sends Taeyeon into a moaning, squirming frenzy. By the time your orgasm subsides and you pull out of her, it’s like a dam burst; Taeyeon’s poor cunt barely had a few minutes in the last hour or so not being stretched open by your cock, and the rough shape of it can still be seen by how widely her labia is still parted. Out that hole, the combined cum of two orgasms, from both herself and from you, are gushing out, following the curve of her ass and down her leg. Somehow, Taeyeon doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest and throws herself onto the bed.

“What do you want to watch, baby?”

How Taeyeon can switch from sexy seductress to adorable girlfriend is beyond you. All you can do is smile and join her in bed. “I don’t know. Let’s take a look.”

Slowly, you started to notice a reduction in your workload, but it somehow didn’t come with less time with Taeyeon. In fact, Taeyeon’s workload seemed to decrease along with yours, and when you asked her about this, she confirmed your suspicions: she’s slowly offloading her duties and responsibilities to others so that she can focus on the baby that you finally managed to impregnate her with.

The dream didn’t last long though; a few false positives from the past has taught you two to be cautious about your excitement, but when the two-week mark passed and everything seemed to be going well, you could feel Taeyeon’s excitement building and building, and you couldn’t help but get infected with that same excitement. So, when news came a month later that the fetus suddenly, inexplicably died in the womb, Taeyeon was beyond devastated. It took Taeyeon a full three days to get back to work, which, for such a hard worker as her, was a long break. Between taking over some of her basic day-to-day duties in that down time and comforting her, your own hands were quite full those three days, but honestly, you’re thankful to finally be able to give back to Taeyeon.

Over the next few weeks, Taeyeon slowly got back on her feet, and after the third month passed, it was almost like nothing happened. You’re sure you helped, but the timing couldn’t be any more immaculate: or, perhaps, you could say that the news came at a terrible time. Taeyeon had been preparing to step down as CEO for a while, and move to a chairwoman position in her company, but there was one last thing she couldn’t offload any work with: a merger with a smaller company, but still one that ate through a lot of her time and effort. In the final stretches of the process, after a stretch of one week without being able to come home, you decide to make a surprise visit to her office, to which she welcomes you with open arms. Open arms, or rather, parted lips.

“Yes, fuck, I needed this so bad~”

Taeyeon’s hands are gripping the edges of her desk, holding on for dear life as you plow into her from behind. Your clothes are strewn haphazardly about the room, the door firmly locked and, without the threat of interruption, you feel free to use 100% of your efforts into alleviating all the pent-up stress the merger has caused Taeyeon.

The view from the front, of seeing her face twisting with pleasure as you slam into her; the view from the side, seeing her ample tits jiggling wildly with the force of your thrusts; the view from the back, the one you’re currently enjoying, watching her juicy romp rebounding with every pistoning motion—there isn’t a single view of Taeyeon that isn’t immaculate.

“I missed you too.”

Taeyeon can barely hold it together, her entire body shaking in response to your vigorous movements, her legs only able to stay upright thanks to the support your own legs are giving them. The whirring of the air conditioning mixes in with the wet clapping of her ass against your crotch, and the cool air only serving to further stimulate the CEO, devoid of all clothing, being plowed from behind at her own desk.

“I-I, I love you so much, so much, baby.”

Taeyeon gave you only a minute after you arrived before jumping you. Honestly, this wasn’t your plan in the slightest, but who are you to complain? When such a bombshell beauty is so horny for you that she physically cannot contain it, especially if that bombshell beauty happens to be your girlfriend of just about five years.

“I love you too, mommy.”

Although you’re fucking her from behind, it was clear from the moment she crashed her lips onto yours that she is the one in charge. And, of course, you don’t mind. You also don’t mind how readily she slipped into the roleplay, her first words to you after the kiss being, “Mommy needs her baby’s cock, now.”

When she’s submissive, you find yourself wanting to thoroughly fuck her and ruin her in every way imaginable; but when she’s assertive, you find yourself instantly kneeling in obedience, worshipping the ground she walks on. Which leads you to this moment, where her pleas of, “faster!” and “more!” and “harder!” are instantly met with obedience. It isn’t long before Taeyeon isn’t able to maintain her grip of the desk any longer, so you take her arms and use them as handlebars to fuck her harder.

“God, mommy’s cumming, mommy’s cumming!”

The office fills with the beautiful, ecstatic sounds of Taeyeon’s climatic screaming moans, and not shortly after, it’s joined by the sounds of your own moans as you imbed stream after stream of your seed straight into her womb.

“Oh … my god…”

“Do you feel better now?”

Taeyeon nods, but when she turns around, it’s clear that this isn’t over yet. “You know what would make mommy feel better?” You shake your head. “First, in the second drawer from the top, there’s a false bottom that you can bypass by pushing on the side.” You nod, and sure enough, the false bottom gives way. “You see that plug?” Again, you nod, and take it out. It isn’t the first time you’ve done this, nor even the first time you’ve done this in her office really, but what follows after she inserts it inside herself is a first. “You know what else I’ve been thinking about recently?”

“Hm? What?”

At this point, Taeyeon has directed you sit down in her chair. You obeyed, confused, and now that she’s pushing you away from the desk and kneeling between your legs, you can start to see why. “Mommy.”

“Sorry. What have you been thinking about, mommy?”

Satisfied, Taeyeon smiles. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, but it’s only this past week that I could get it out of my mind.” You’re still recovering, but Taeyeon is certainly making the recovery process easier. “That warm, thick, creamy cum that you always fill me with, that’s inside me right now … I want to taste it.”

At this point in your relationship, you figure nothing about Taeyeon can really surprise you. You’ve even talked about some of the deeper aspects of your relationship, such as why Taeyeon doesn’t want to get married yet: her parents only stayed together because they had her, and eventually, their relationship healed to the point where they, now, are perfectly happy in their retirement. It’s this experience that molded Taeyeon’s opinion of relationships: if she were to have a romantic partner, she wanted to only have one, and to ensure that, she wanted to have a child with that partner before getting marriage, as a sort of insurance.

It’s why Taeyeon seemed so eager to bear your child recently, and why she became so utterly devastated when her first pregnancy ended the way it did. Many aspects of Taeyeon, you figure you already know, and every aspect of her, you cherish and love.

But this?

This is not something you expected.

“Are … you sure?”

Taeyeon nods, eyes glimmering with excitement. “Yes! Do you mind?”

“Of—Of course not, mommy!”

You have become so accustomed to releasing every load inside her womb—or at least, going into sex with the idea of that being your target—that even the thought of unloading anywhere else seems foreign. But, of course, over the years, your mind has drifted and fantasized, and you’re for the most part able to quash these fantasies pretty easily. After all, the price of being in a relationship with Taeyeon, and having somewhat frequent sex with her, is just that you’re only allowed to cum inside one of her holes? It’s a trivially easy price to pay.

“Oh, thank you, baby!”

That thought, of being able to unleash your first load deep inside her throat, combined with the kisses Taeyeon peppers all about your length, shortens your refractory period down to just about ten minutes. That feeling, of her soft, succulent lips pressing against your member, the audible smacking sound of the kiss as she presses her lips against it, the careful way in which she almost caresses your cock with her lips and her tongue sends you straight to cloud nine, and when she swallows your glans, you’re rocketed straight into outer space.

“Ffuck, mommy…”

It isn’t often that Taeyeon gives you blowjobs, but she’s done it enough that she can take your entire length in one go. She wastes no time, deepthroating you with all the enthusiasm the excited gleam in her eyes showed you, and all you can do is grip the armrests of the chair and buck your hips to the rhythm of her lips.

“Fuck, oh my god, please, mommy, it feels so fucking amazing…”

The feeling of her lips gliding up and down your shaft, her tongue caressing and massaging every square inch of your dick, all the while suffocating it with the sheer tightness of her throat quickly overwhelms your senses. This blowjob—this deepthroating is unlike any Taeyeon has ever given you: she’s more intense, she spends less time coming up for air, spitting on your cock, and rubbing it along your length with her hands, and without needing to care about your orgasm, she completely loses herself in it.

More and more intense, faster, harder, you’re losing your goddamn mind, Taeyeon slobbering all over your dick, the excess drool dripping down her chin and all over your thighs, but she somehow looks ten times sexier like that. Her normally slim face and sleek jawline are now noticeably bulging from your girth, her plump lips stretched wide across its circumference, her head bobbing up and down and her hair flying all over the place, chasing after the wild motions of the head it’s attached to.

“Fuck, mommy, please, I’m so close…”

Hearing this, Taeyeon’s eyes, which were previously glued to your lap, dart upwards, and she adjusts her position so that she can look you in the eye, full-on. You’re unable to tear your eyes away, every bobbing motion of her head and every suction that hollows her cheeks pushing you further and higher until—

“Mommy, I’m cumming!”

Taeyeon doesn’t break eye contact the entire length of your climax; it’s your second load of the session, so it’s not so much that she can’t handle it, but her cheeks still noticeably bulge as her mouth fills with your semen.

Carefully, making sure she doesn’t spill a single drop, Taeyeon’s lips come back up your length. In that moment, you, for a second marvel at the fact that your seed is now occupying two of Taeyeon’s holes, but that fact remains short lived as, shortly after, Taeyeon’s throat flexes and your fluids disappear down her gullet.

“Mmm…”

“So, how was it?”

“I think I like it.”

The two of you didn’t have much time to talk afterwards as she had a meeting to prepare for. Being someone who essentially knew everything Taeyeon did about the company, you figured you would sit in on the meeting in case she needed help with anything, but ended up being distracted with the thought that Taeyeon had yet to take the plug out yet, and was talking to her stockholders, present and future, with your cum still sloshing about inside her.

After the merger successfully resolved, Taeyeon stepped down as CEO and transitioned into a chairwoman position, as promised; and, with the increased amount of time on their hands, and with the memory of that fiasco in her office fresh in her mind, Taeyeon began proposing you to cum elsewhere quite frequently: a few more times in her mouth, but also on her ass, on her tits, smearing that tight little tummy of hers, splattering across her legs, and after a fair bit of experimentation, inside her ass.

The most memorable moment, by far, was—

“How do I look?”

Taeyeon insisted your first load be across her chest; needless to say, Taeyeon’s boobs are as sexy as she is beautiful, so to see them smeared with your cum amplifies that tenfold.

“So unbelievably fucking sexy.”

“I feel sexy too, so I was hoping…” Taeyeon reaches into the nightstand next to the bed and procures a bottle of pills. “…that you would help me feel even sexier.”

The pills turned out to be a performance enhancer mixed in something that helps increase ejaculation density. That night, the two of you went through all sorts of sex positions, every load being sprayed across a different part of her body: her stomach area followed a mixture of missionary and cowboy, then her face after a blowjob, then her back following doggy and her legs following prone-bone. Even with the drugs, you had to take considerable breaks in between sessions, especially at the tail-end; the end product was Taeyeon caked in a fine layer of your cum, smeared across just about every square inch of her body. When the two of you fell asleep, it was well past 5am, and the following morning—rather, the following afternoon, being the time the two of you awoke—you enjoyed a nice shower together.

That wasn’t to say you stopped entirely in your baby making attempts. Far from it: now that Taeyeon’s workload decreased so severely, the two of you had much more time to fuck—there even was a stretch of two weeks where you had sex every day, only paused by your need to rest and recover from all of the intense activity. None of it seemed to affect anything though: weekly pregnancy tests, all resulting in negatives or false positives; you can feel Taeyeon start to get impatient, not with her failure to get pregnant, but holding off marriage for so long.

By now, over half a decade together, you can’t imagine life with another person. If, God forbid, the two of you ever broke up, you figure you would just stay single for the rest of your life; after all, how could you settle for any other woman after Taeyeon? It was clear that Taeyeon was hoping to get married around the time she stepped down as CEO, but now that a year passed since that day, Taeyeon began to talk to you, in more earnest, about getting married first.

So, about 7 years from the day you two solidified your relationship, you got married. It was a very small and private affair, consisting only of the immediate families of both parties, seven of Taeyeon’s closest friends, and the handful of friends that had never judged your relationship with Taeyeon after learning about it.

The sex following the wedding night was easily the most rambunctious the two of you have ever been, lasting well until the sun rose the next day, and during the honeymoon was … a different kind of intense.

“Mmm, that smells so good, honey.”

Taeyeon lets out a soft gasp upon feeling your erection pressing against her bare ass. “I had Andre teach me.”

It was a quaint, quiet, isolated destination, your and Taeyeon’s choice of honeymoon. The house was packed with enough food to feed a family of four for two weeks, probably, enough wine for a battalion for one night’s celebration—the backup generators had backup generators, and there were at least five failsafe methods of communication in the worst case scenarios. The fact that you two don’t require a single other person to live luxuriously in the sizable estate, and the fact that other people are forbidden to enter even the premises of the estate, serve the singular purpose of allowing both you and Taeyeon to follow one rather simple rule: no means of covering one’s body is allowed except for an apron while cooking, gloves or other protective gear when handling hot surfaces or otherwise dangerous objects, or clothes if you’re, for whatever reason, expecting company.

Which explains this scenario, in which you are teasing at her hole as Taeyeon tries to focus on making brunch for the two of you.

“Baby, please…”

“You should focus on the food, babe.”

“I can’t … I can’t focus, your dick is driving me crazy…”

“Then all the more reason why I shouldn’t put it in, right? Because then, you’ll be even more likely to burn the food.”

“Just … babe, please, I need it so bad, just—”

“Are you gonna burn the food if I listen to you?”

“No! Please, I promise, please—”

You don’t need to hear much more, and when you shove yourself inside her, Taeyeon lets out a loud yelp. “Hmm, fuck, so hot and so tight, baby…”

“Fuck, oh my god, after all these years, it still feels like you’re stretching me out so much every time…”

Being near a hot stove, you can’t be as relentless as you have been the last few days, but seeing her trying her best to focus on the food she’s cooking while moaning and trying, but failing, to maintaining a steady hand, ending up sprinkling in a bit too much salt.

“Baby!”

“But you wanted this, didn’t you?”

“But you don’t have to—unng, fuck!”

You finish inside her, and shortly after, Taeyeon finishes her cooking—some of it did, in fact, get slightly burned, but otherwise was great.

Taeyeon instigates nearly as much as you, though—like, when you were napping on a lounge chair by the poolside, something only possible to do while naked in the winter because of the tropical climate of the destination, and awake to the feeling of Taeyeon climbing on top of you.

“Taeyeon?”

“I miss you.”

“How long have I been napping here? An hour?”

Taeyeon pouts, and your heart completely melts at the sight. “That’s an hour too long.”

“Aww, poor baby.” You lean forward and plant a kiss on her lips, which instantly turns the pout into a smile. “Is that better?”

“Mmhm. But, I could be even better…”

It turns out, having sex on a lounge chair isn’t exactly the most comfortable thing, especially if you’re being as vigorous as you and Taeyeon are. You end up breaking it, so you finish inside the pool and then go back inside to do some couple’s yoga in one of the estate’s living rooms.

In the two weeks that you two spend there, every room becomes witness to your hot, sweaty activities—in fact, you aren’t even sure if the bedroom is where you and Taeyeon end up fucking the most. For the span of those two weeks, Taeyeon insisted on having every drop of cum being deposited inside her pussy, although you end up cheating a little and cumming a few times in her other two holes, once on her face, and once on her boobs after a mind-blowing blowjob mixed with a titjob.

And, it turns out, getting married is all it takes—either that, or the two weeks of what essentially amounted to nonstop sex—for Taeyeon to get pregnant. After various double and triple checks, her personal doctor is able to confirm it: finally, again, after all these years, Taeyeon is pregnant. You can’t describe why exactly you feel this way, but there’s something about things—how much more solid your relationship with Taeyeon is, the fact that you’re married now, the significantly less stress Taeyeon deals with on a day-to-day basis—that makes you feel confident that it’ll work out this time.

“Have you thought of a name?”

“Hm…”

You laugh. “After all this time?”

“Well, I have though of a name if it’s a girl.”

“Hm? What is it, then?”

“How does ‘Minjeong’ sound?”

[noxiatoxia]

thanks for answering my questions! that was a super interesting read! i feel like in the english it feels like he suddenly got an “im better than you” attitude while in the japanese he’s just talking to them in a way that better reflects how he thinks they should be talked to based on their (for lack of a better term) status in his mind. it makes me wonder if he realizes what hes doing (dementia moment)

i did have another question about his lines specifically when he runs into hinata after the final dead room (the bits where he’s asking if hinata wanted to “become hope”) as i always thought that implied he knew he was kamukura at that point. and i want to know what he’s saying in japanese.

i’m also very curious about that line before the trial where komaeda is wondering why he still cares about hinata! if there’s any nuances there that are left out of the translation

You're welcome! I'm terribly sorry it took so long but I had to recover from being sick and then re-look over Ch.4 again. It was fun!

You bring up a really interesting point about the dementia thing...I wonder, does Komaeda's FTD still affect him in the NWP, does he have flare-ups? I'm unsure...Komaedaologists with better analysis skills than me probably could answer that.

Besides that, let me answer your questions.

So, the part where Komaeda talks to Hinata about admiring hope is interesting for a few reasons...before we even get to the admiring hope part, Komaeda says this:

When supposedly talking about Hinata's lack of talent, but then when he talks about why Hinata is talentless, he says this:

Which is confusing. He's implying Hinata "perhaps" doesn't have a talent because he wasn't determined enough (meaning, he didn't work hard enough) only to then say having a talent/being hope actually has nothing to do with working hard, and it's about how you're born.

When I answer these asks, I watch the ENG and JP version side-by-side, so I caught instantly what the issue was.

This line actually has nothing to do with talking about Hinata being talentless. Keep in mind, the line before this is Hinata saying, "Wh-What the hell...does that mean...?"

Combined with that, it's easy to see this is what the line is supposed to read:

KOMAEDA: Perhaps...you weren't prepared for this to be the answer.

For some reason I'm having a tough time wording it in English right now, so please excuse me. But Komaeda is saying, basically, "Were you not ready for the truth behind this question you've been wondering so long (aka his talent) to be this bleak? Had you not prepared for it to be this undesirable of an outcome?"

He was not commenting on Hinata being unable to get into HPA, he was commenting on his shocked reaction.

Moving on to the part you were actually asking about...

I actually kind of like the ENG translation. It's more liberal but in a good way. I'll provide a more literal translation in this case to better explain.

KOMAEDA: You yearn to posses hope...so you entered Hope's Peak Academy with the plan to devote yourself to that goal, isn't that so?

My only qualm with the official translation is a nitpick; "admire" is not how I would put it...I don't think?

I may be wrong, but in English, "admiring" something doesn't always mean you want to be it. I hear a lot, "I admire his ability to do such hard work" and such. It sounds like you hold a lot of praise for him, but you could never do that yourself. "I admire firefighters, I'd never want to put my life on the line like that" and stuff...

憧れ is better thought of as "aspire", I think. It has the nuance of you want to embody it. "Admire" works, but it's the kind of admiration where you want to be that, too.

Besides that, "Were you willing to sacrifice your body and soul" is a very powerful way to write その身を捧げるつもり, and I really have to give it to the team for this one.

Literally speaking, その身 means "That body", but 身 is an abstract way to refer to a person's self. その then makes it "one's self", and it sounds kind of...grandiose? Serious? I'm unsure how to word it.

Point is, turning その身 into "your [very] body and soul" is a perfect way to put it in this situation. 捧げる has an equal level of importance in feeling, it's like wholly dedicating everything to one thing. Sacrifice is apt.

This translation is also fine, but I wrote my own version too.

Komaeda: Or maybe...you were just a mindless sheep who looked up to Hope's Peak Academy [because everyone else was doing it].

Hinata then interjects, saying, "That's not why I joined at all!" (In the Official translation, he says "I-It's not like that! I...!")

And then Komaeda replies:

KOMAEDA: No, it's because you "wanted to become hope yourself" or something like that. Seriously, quit saying such idiotic things!

Also, I must amend my post here where I said I didn't recall Komaeda ever using ~てくれ outside of his laptop video. In this line, he does use てくれ. I'm sorry >.< my memory truly does suck.

Also, this line after Komaeda explains you either are born with talent or aren't is a mistranslation:

KOMAEDA: That's why...just "aspiring" to be something isn't enough.

I think it's pretty obvious that it's a mistranslation even in English because it reads like a totally unrelated non sequitur. In Japanese, it makes a lot more sense.

Komaeda's ideology can be quite confusing for a first time player, it doesn't help that there's so many mistranslations that make him say basically the opposite of what he means...I wonder why that is.

Only 2 lines later, we get these lines:

Which are, weirdly, way meaner than they are in Japanese.

KOMAEDA: In short...you're nothing more than a Reserve Course student who never had a talent to begin with. KOMAEDA: You just happened to forget. That's all there is to it.

He never calls him a "nobody" - the closest is 予備学科でしかない, where でしかない has a negative connotation to it. So, it's saying "you are merely just a Reserve Course student" with a bit of an edge, but that's it. I guess this could be read as "a nobody from the reserve course" if you interpreted it in the meanest way possible. It's not necessarily wrong; it's up to the reader to decide how "mean" Komaeda intends it to be I suppose. A bit of ambiguity.

I only translate it as more "neutral" as the follow up line does not sound mean to me, so I'm just keeping it consistent...but I would actually love to hear some theories on this. Do you think he's trying to be mean? Or is he just emphasizing Hinata is nothing more than, in a neutral way? Very interesting...

That's all for that part...there's nothing that would allude to Komaeda knowing Hinata is Kamukura based on these lines, I don't think. I'll let everyone theorize though, I'm just here to write translations haha

To your other question, I've actually looked into this before! I only discussed it with a friend privately though, so I never posted it here. Let's fix that.

KOMAEDA: Even so, why...? KOMAEDA: I know that you are an insignificant human being, so why is it that I care about you?

I know nuance is important in lines like these, so let me elaborate more on the Japanese text.

KOMAEDA: 取るに足らない人間だとわかっているのに、どうしてキミの事を気に掛けちゃうのかな?

取るに足らない means something not worth devoting any time to, something so small and trivial, hence insignificant.

どうして is a bit tricky to explain, but it means why/how. You're asking why in the sense of how...which is usually the same as an English "why", I think. In this way, it can be worded also as "so how come I care about you?"

キミの事 is "kimi no koto", and puts emphasis on Hinata's person.

Like, for example, in love confessions, a person will not say I love you (kimi), because it sounds stilted or insincere. You say "you" as kimi no koto, which literally translates as "your thing"...which sounds weird, but all you need to know is that it emphasizes the person's being - their personality, their feelings, their everything. It's a way to make whatever you're saying about this person sound more warm/intimate. Of course it's used for more than just love confessions!! That's just the most popular example. Komaeda uses kimi no koto in his love confession with Hinata in his FTE.

In short, he is just emphasizing Hinata as a person beyond a surface level. This isn't shocking, as this sentence would sound kind of weird if he did not use this turn of phrase.

気に掛けちゃう confuses me for one specific reason and I'll explain that soon. But 気に掛け means "care", specifically this English definition:

being concerned/weighing on one's mind is an integral part to 気に掛け。

The ちゃう attached to it gives the nuance that this is against Komaeda's will, and/or it is something he is doing to his chagrin. Basically, "despite the fact I shouldn't, I care about you [and I can't force myself not to]".

Back to what confuses me. It's how 気に掛け is written. Most commonly, it's written in Hiragana alone as 気にかけ and means the same thing. You can 100% write the second part in Kanji as it is here, but when it comes to written works like this, typically there's a reason for choosing one over the other. Which is to say, the reason it's written in Kanji here as opposed to Hiragana makes me think there's some sort of implied nuance...I could be totally wrong, but it's what my mind goes to.

The issue is, I don't know of any special nuance of using 気に掛け over 気にかけ...so, if this is indeed the case, my theories for why it is written in Kanji, from most likely to least, are:

to emphasize the word's meaning.

to imply a level of sophistication or eloquence to the speech.

to make the sentence easier to read.

If it were written in Hiragana, I think it would be just as easy to read. But it's always a possibility.

I'm very unsure on this last part here...so I'm open to all types of thoughts and theories.

I hope this answers your questions! Thank you again!

[silentnights-stuff]

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Author’s Note:

Thank you all so much for the love and support of my writing! I’m really grateful.

I just wanted to let you know that I’m not completely done with this story yet, so I’ll be sharing it part by part. Since my end-semester exams are coming up, this will be the last update for now. But don’t worry—I’ll be posting Part 3 on April 15!

Once again, thank you for all the love. Now, here’s Part 2—I hope you enjoy reading it!

⌗ Across the Fence𓂃 ࣪˖ ᥫ᭡.

Pedri gonzalez × fem!reader

Part-2

Masterlist

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, underage drinking, intoxicated behaviour, slight language, tipsy confessions, Pedri struggling (as usual), Gabi being an absolute menace, and way too much secondhand embarrassment.

Word count: 4968

Tagged: @moonvr Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

Note: This playlist kept me inspired while writing! If you're starting Part 2, hit play on Stuck with You for the perfect soundtrack.

Gabi felt like she had been losing her mind for a while and being delusional about Pedri. She was dejected, confused, and maybe even overthinking things way too much. And the worst part? Sofía seemed just as lost. Like—How could she be wrong? Or were both of them just spiralling over nothing?

That stupid joke was what finally snapped Gabi out of her habit of regretting being born over every minor inconvenience. In an attempt to cheer her up, Sofía invited her to a house party hosted by Xabier the captain of the basketball team.

Gabi hesitated. She wasn’t exactly the party type. She couldn’t even use the classic “my parents won’t allow me” excuse because Sofía knew damn well that her parents were the exact opposite—they’d beg her to go out. Her dad always said, "Enjoy while you can because when responsibility hits, it breaks your back.”

But still… why would she leave the comfort of her warm bed, her stash of late-night snacks, and The Originals on Netflix?

Not to mention, she had to keep those snacks hidden from Pedri, that menace, who would eat the whole packet and then complain about how bad the ingredients were—like he was some kind of MasterChef.

One time, during a sleepover, she woke up to the sound of rustling. Immediately sitting up, her messy hair sticking out in every direction, she hesitantly reached for her night lamp.

And there he was.

Pedri, shamelessly eating Flamin’ Hot Tex-Mex Doritos with Fanta Limón. When he noticed her staring, he dared to just smile and say,

"I didn’t know you kept your hidden snack stash in your second laundry bag under the bed. Nice spot, by the way. But now you need to find a different one."

She threw a pillow at his head.

_________

On the way to the chemistry lab, Sofía was still begging her to come to the party. She went on and on about how fun it would be—getting dressed up, putting on makeup, and escaping from the suffocating schoolwork and high-grading system trauma. It sounded nice. But Gabi wasn’t about to say that out loud.

Instead, as they walked down the hallway, she tried negotiating. “How about instead of that loud, sweaty party, you come over for an Originals Season 4 marathon?”

Sofía declined. Obviously.

Meanwhile, Pedri, who had successfully ditched physics class after convincing his teacher he’d “be back in five minutes,” was wandering the halls. He spotted Gavi and Sofía ahead and made his way toward them, but before he could reach them, he overheard their conversation.

A house party?

Oh, he knew Gabi would do anything to avoid going.

Grinning to himself, he made his presence very clear by wrapping her in a headlock out of nowhere.

Her immediate response?

She bit his bicep.

"OH MY GOD, SOFÍA, THIS FREAK—I'm telling you, she's the next Jeffrey Dahmer!" Pedri yelped, dramatically pulling away.

"Shut the fuck up, Pedri," Gabi deadpanned.

"So, Hamster, why aren’t you going to the party?" he asked, smirking.

She opened her mouth to answer, but Pedri—being Pedri—cut her off.

"Sorry, let me stop you right there before you give me that boring ass speech about your undying love for Niklaus Mikaelson. You already made me watch Season 4 last week, Missy. So, no excuses. You’re coming with Sofía, and if you refuse, I will get my boys from the football team, and we will carry you there in a celebratory lift."

She gawked at him, horrified.

Because she knew he wasn’t joking.

He had done it before.

On his birthday, she had ignored his backyard party because they had fought the day before. So what did he do? He and his friends dragged her out of her room—still in her pyjamas—so she’d be the first person he fed his cake to.

"Okay, okay, for the love of God, don’t do that! I have two working legs, I can walk on my own. So piss off! And if I see you skipping physics one more time, I will tell your mom."

Pedri just grinned. "Yes, love, do whatever the hell you want—as long as you come to the party."

With two fingers to his temple, he gave her a mock salute. "Signing off."

Then, just before walking away, Sofía called after him, "Pedri, you’re the best! Thanks for helping me drag Hamster out of her hole!"

Gabi smacked her forearm.

______

After that hectic school schedule, Gabi and Sofía barely had time to breathe before jumping straight into party prep mode.

From taking ridiculously long showers to playing dress-up with every possible outfit combination, the process was nothing short of a mess. They couldn’t decide what to wear, going back and forth between casual and elegant, heels or sneakers, before finally settling on something in between.

Between all that, they still managed to stuff their faces with bocadillos and pastries they’d picked up on their way home from school.

Since the party was near Gabi’s place, she had invited Sofía over to get dressed together. Sofía, of course, gladly agreed.

Gabi stood in front of the mirror, tugging at the hem of her white tank top while Sofía rummaged through a pile of clothes on the bed.

"You're seriously wearing that jacket?" Sofía asked, glancing up with an amused smirk.

Gabi shrugged, slipping her arms into the oversized varsity jacket. The black and beige fabric swallowed her frame, the sleeves hanging past her wrists. "It’s a house party, not prom," she said, adjusting the collar. "Besides, it looks good."

Sofía rolled her eyes. "Yeah, if you’re trying to look like you just stole it from someone’s boyfriend."

Gabi laughed, shoving her playfully before grabbing her black shorts from the bed. She slid them on with ease, the hem barely peeking out beneath the jacket. She paired them with thick white socks, scrunched perfectly around her ankles, and the chunky blue sneakers she had been obsessed with lately. She adjusted her accessories—a layered chain necklace catching the light as she ran her fingers through her hair.

Meanwhile, Sofía tossed aside a few options before finally settling on her signature look—edgy, sleek, and just the right amount of effortless cool. She slipped on a fitted black crop top that hugged her curves, pairing it with high-waisted, shredded denim shorts that barely skimmed her thighs. The frayed edges gave just the right amount of "don’t care" energy. Over it, she draped an oversized black leather jacket, the glossy material catching the light as she smoothed it over her shoulders.

She sat on the bed for a moment, adjusting the strap of her black chain-strap purse before standing up to fix her hair in the mirror.

"You look like you're about to ignore every guy who tries to talk to you," Sofía teased, eyeing Gabi’s outfit with a smirk.

"That’s the point," Gabi shot back, matching her energy.

Sofía grabbed her phone, giving Gabi a knowing look. “Well, at least you won’t be the only one.”

They met eyes in the mirror, their contrasting styles blending perfectly—Gabi’s sporty, laid-back cool and Sofía’s sharp, street-style edge. Different looks, same energy. The party didn’t stand a chance.

"Alright," Gabi smirked, flipping her hair back. "Let’s make this party worth our time."

By the time they were finally ready, it was already 8:00 PM. They packed their purses with the essentials—lip gloss, extra hair ties, gum, and (of course) an emergency snack—before heading downstairs.

As they descended the staircase, Gabi spotted her parents preparing dinner in the kitchen.

"Mom, I’m heading out with Sofía to a house party."

Without even looking up, her mom casually replied, "I know. Pedri stopped by earlier and told me that if you tried backing out, I should call him."

Gabi froze.

"That little shit—" she muttered under her breath. "I swear, I’m putting holes in his body with my heels tonight."

Her dad chuckled from the kitchen. "Good luck with that, Gabi. Have fun, but not too much. And stay safe. If you're going to be out past 11 PM, tell Pedri to drop you off at our door."

Gabi sighed, already regretting her life choices. "Yes, sir."

_______

Pedri had already left earlier with his football teammates to help the basketball team set up for the party. They were all good friends, always supporting each other, whether on the field or off. It was an unspoken rule—when one team needed help, the other stepped up. Tonight was no different. The football players had taken charge of arranging the speakers, setting up the lights, and making sure everything was in place before the crowd arrived.

By the time Gabi and Sofía reached the party, the place was already alive—music blasting, laughter echoing, and the thick scent of alcohol and smoke clinging to the humid air. As they stepped into the chaos, the overwhelming mix of sweat, liquor, and something sharper—weed—wrapped around them like an intoxicating fog. The bass thumped through the wooden floors, rattling the walls, each beat vibrating through their bodies.

It was already 8:40, and the house was overflowing with people, a restless, pulsing sea of bodies—some swaying to the music, others huddled in corners, red plastic cups clutched in their hands. Laughter spilled from every direction, high-pitched and reckless, while shadows flickered under neon lights, illuminating flashes of faces, drinks sloshing over the edges of cups, and cigarette smoke curling lazily through the air. The night was in full swing, and Gabi and Sofía had just stepped into the heart of it.

As they pushed through the sea of drunken bodies, Gabi’s eyes darted around, scanning the faces. Pedri wasn’t here. She didn’t expect to see him right away, but that didn’t stop the tiny, ridiculous pang of disappointment from gnawing at her chest.

They wove through the crowd; she followed Sofía, who was already scanning the crowd for one person—Cubarsí, a defender on the football team alongside Pedri. The party swirled around them—strangers brushing past, the smell of tequila sharp in the air, the occasional flash of a phone camera capturing the night in blurry, golden-filtered memories.

It didn’t take long to find him. He was by the pool, sitting on the edge, his feet dangling over the water, a drink in his hand. A group of football players surrounded him, their laughter ringing loudly over the music. They were playing Never Have I Ever, their drinks sloshing each time someone took a shot.

Before Gabi could react, Sofía was pulled into a bear hug, Cubarsí’s arms wrapping tightly around her waist before pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her forehead. "You made it," he murmured, his voice lazy with amusement.

Gabi hesitated at the edge of the group. She could feel the warmth from the pool reflecting against her skin and could hear the way the ice clinked against glass bottles. But her mind was elsewhere.

Where was Pedri?

She turned toward Eric, one of the midfielders, who was sitting beside her.

“Have you guys seen Pedri?” she asked, trying to keep her voice casual.

Eric furrowed his brows, thinking. "Yeah, he was here… maybe an hour ago? Talking to some guy. Why? You need something? I can go find him if you want."

Gabi shook her head, forcing a small smile. "No, it’s fine. I’ll just join you guys."

They shuffled over, making space for her in the circle. Someone handed her a drink, but she barely touched it.

The game resumed. The bottle of Absolut Vodka sat in the centre of them, the dim glow of the pool lights reflecting off the glass. The rules were simple—if you had done it, you drank.

Cubarsí smirked, glancing at Sofía before throwing out the first question. “Never have I ever… had a friend with benefits.”

Sofía rolled her eyes but took a shot.

Marc followed. Then Ferran, Fermín, and Gerard.

To save his ass, Cubarsí, after downing his shot, quickly added, "But she’s my girlfriend now." His attempt at damage control earned a round of laughter, while Sofía playfully smacked his arm.

Only Gabi, Jules, and Gavi remained sober for that question.

It was Gavi’s turn next. He leaned back slightly, a mischievous smirk tugging at his lips as he threw out his question:

"Never have I ever… had a dirty dream about someone unexpected while dating someone else."

A brief pause.

Sofía and Cubarsí answered in unison, "Never."

But across the circle, Marc, Ferran, Fermín, Jules, and Gerard exchanged guilty looks before silently lifting their drinks and taking a shot.

Gabi, on the other hand, stayed still, fingers wrapped around her untouched cup. She had never thought of anyone like that—not unexpectedly, not while dating someone. The idea felt foreign, almost absurd.

And yet, as the game continued and the shots kept coming, a strange weight settled in her chest. She was still sober. Too sober.

The questions kept rolling in—some ridiculous, some scandalous, and others downright shameless. The circle of football players and their friends was caught between bursts of laughter and the burn of alcohol, each shot tipping them further into reckless territory.

“Never have I ever… watched Game of Thrones just for the steamy scenes.”

Without hesitation, nearly everyone lifted their drinks and took a shot.

Except Gabi.

Ferran, already a little loose from the alcohol, turned toward her with a teasing grin. “Gabi babe, you’ve watched Game of Thrones, right? You never just… rewatched the spicy scenes?”

Gabi smirked, unfazed. “I watched it with Pedri. But no, never.”

That earned a round of drunken laughter, the group hollering at her answer. “Pedri’s too serious for that,” Marc joked, shaking his head.

The game pressed on, the questions diving deeper into scandal.

Never have I ever… had a rebound hookup.

Never have I ever… said “I love you” just to hook up with someone.

Never have I ever… undressed while my partner was in a Zoom meeting.

Never have I ever… joined OnlyFans.

Never have I ever… hooked up with someone without them knowing my real name.

Never have I ever… sent my partner a spicy picture while they were in class.

Never have I ever… fantasized about a stranger I saw just once.

With each question, the sound of glasses clinking filled the air, the vodka bottle dwindling with every passing round.

Gabi?

She had only taken a few sips here and there—four shots, at most.

Safe ones.

Never have I ever… accidentally burned something while cooking.

Never have I ever… accidentally sent a text to the wrong person.

Never have I ever… pretended to know someone I didn’t.

Other than that, she remained mostly sober, watching as everyone around her drifted further into intoxication.

And still—Pedri was nowhere to be seen.

The laughter around her started to sound distant like she was hearing it from underwater. Muffled voices. Blurred faces.

These were people her age—laughing, drinking, making memories. Living.

And she?

She was always buried under textbooks, drowning in assignments, chasing deadlines like they were the only thing that mattered.

But these people—they had the same workload. The same deadlines.

So why was she the only one missing out?

She knew why.

Because she was the problem.

Because she was too scared to step out of her comfort zone.

Because every time someone tried to pull her into the world beyond her perfectly controlled bubble—she pushed them away.

Even Pedri.

He tried. Again and again. Sometimes, he succeeded. But only 20% of the time. The other 80%? She shut him out, afraid of what might happen if she let herself be reckless.

But right now—reckless didn’t seem so bad.

Before she could stop herself, she reached forward, snatching the bottle from Cubarsí’s hands. The murmurs of protest barely registered in her mind as she tipped her head back, the burn of Absolut Vodka sliding down her throat like water.

Someone tried to grab it from her.

Of course, they did.

They were all scared of Pedri. They knew if he walked in and saw her like this, hell would break loose.

Pedri was always calm. Collected. In control. The kind of person who never lost his cool, no matter the situation.

But when he got mad?

He was war itself.

And right now?

Gabi didn’t care.

He wasn’t even here.

______

Pedri was out with Xabier, Dani, and Frenkie, making a last-minute booze run after the party started running low. The nearest grocery store had already closed, forcing them to find another supermarket, which took longer than expected. Xabier and Dani, armed with fake IDs, handled the beer and vodka, while Pedri waited impatiently for them to check out.

Just as they finished paying, his phone buzzed. Ferran. Pedri accepted the call, pressing the phone to his ear.

"So, how’s everything going over there?"

Ferran’s voice came through, rushed and panicked. "Pedri, bro, I need to tell you something—just don’t get mad, okay?"

Pedri frowned, his grip tightening on the phone. "I can’t promise you anything. That depends on what you're about to say."

"Okay, just… don’t freak out. It’s Gabi—"

Pedri cut him off mid-sentence, his stomach dropping. "What the fuck do you mean, ‘it’s Gabi’? What happened to her?!"

"No, no, nothing happened to her—just listen to me first!" Ferran rushed to explain. "She got drunk."

Pedri’s jaw clenched. "Who made her drink?"

"It wasn’t us!" Ferran insisted. "She was playing Never Have I Ever with us, and she only took four shots. But then… she snatched the bottle out of Cubarsí’s hand and downed half of it."

At this point, Pedri was fuming. His pulse pounded in his ears.

"I don’t care who did what—I asked you to take care of her until I got back!" He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "Oh my fucking god. Listen, don’t let her go anywhere. Keep her with you. We’re on our way."

He hung up without another word, already heading for the car.

The drive back to the party felt endless. Pedri sat in the backseat, his knee bouncing restlessly, fingers drumming against his thigh. Every second that passed made his chest feel tighter.

Xabier, seated beside him, finally broke the silence. “So… your girl got drunk?”

Pedri barely glanced up. “Yup.”

Xabier chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. “She’ll be fine, man.”

“Not until I see it for myself.” Pedri’s voice was sharp, his frustration barely contained.

Xabier raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. Chill. If you want, you can use the guest room upstairs—second floor. I’ll get you the keys. Once she’s calmed down, then you can take her home.”

Pedri exhaled, nodding.

“Besides,” Xabier added with a smirk, “you don’t drink, so at least someone is responsible tonight.”

Pedri wasn’t in the mood to joke. He leaned forward, his voice urgent. “Can’t you drive any faster, Dani?”

The driver, unfazed, sighed. “I’m a man, stop yelling.”

“We know you’re worried,” Xabier said, shaking his head. “But relax. The others are with her.”

Pedri knew that. He knew she wasn’t alone. But his mind wouldn’t stop racing until he saw Gabi himself. Until he knew she was okay.

And right now, the car still wasn’t moving fast enough.

______

The moment the car stopped in front of the house, Pedri was out before anyone else could react. He barely registered the cool night air or the muffled bass of the music vibrating through the walls. His only thought was her.

The house was packed, bodies moving in every direction, but it didn’t matter. Pedri pushed through without hesitation, barely sparing a glance at anyone in his way. He’d deal with Gavi and Cubarsí tomorrow—right now, Gabi was all he cared about.

And then he saw her.

She was in the centre of the room, completely lost in the music. The dim lights flickered across her skin like fireflies, and the way she moved—effortless, free, glowing—it was like the world itself was dancing with her.

Sofía twirled her, and Gabi let out a bright laugh, head tipping back as her hair fanned around her. Every move was instinctive like the beat was woven into her veins. Cubarsí, Marc, Ferran, Fermín, Jules, and Gavi stood around them, not just dancing, but protecting her—forming an invisible barrier so no one could get too close.

Pedri stopped for a second, breath caught in his throat.

She was enchanting. The way her body swayed, the way her eyes sparkled, the way her laughter melted into the melody—she was a sight he could never look away from.

For the first time in his life, Pedri thought maybe alcohol wasn’t such a bad thing.

He took a step forward, weaving through the crowd. Just as he reached her, she turned, her hair flying—smacking him lightly in the face. He barely reacted. His hand instinctively found her shoulder, turning her toward him.

And then she saw him.

Her face lit up like she was the moon in his night sky.

Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around his neck, locking her fingers together behind him. “Where were you?” she pouted. “I was so disappointed not to see you.”

Pedri exhaled, his hands resting at her waist. “I’m sorry, Hamster. I wasn’t here—I went out to buy some booze.”

Gabi blinked, processing that information. “Oh.” Then, without missing a beat, she grabbed his hand, dragging him to dance with her.

Pedri let her. His grip on her waist tightened as they moved together, bodies swaying in sync with the music.

He leaned in slightly. “Are you having fun?”

“Yup, it’s really exciting to be here! I’m loving it!” Gabi exclaimed, swaying happily to the music. Then she paused, squinting up at Pedri with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Buuuut… you won’t be mad at me if I tell you a little secret, right?”

Pedri couldn’t stop looking at her. There was something so innocent about her in this moment, despite the absolute chaos she caused. He could pretend to be mad, but it would be a miserable attempt.

He smirked, tilting his head slightly. “Gabi, you know you can tell me anything. You’re the last person on earth I’d ever get mad at.” His voice softened. “Go ahead, love.”

Gabi gasped dramatically, clutching onto his black Valentino bomber jacket like he was her lifeline. Then she pulled herself up, so close he could feel her breath against his skin as she whispered in his ear.

“You know…” she giggled, gripping him tighter, “I drank half a bottle of Absolut.” She pulled back, wide-eyed. “But you don’t get to tell anyone.”

Pedri was struggling. Not because of what she said—honestly, that was expected—but because of the way she had leaned in, her lips grazing his ear, sending goosebumps down his entire body. And as if that wasn’t enough to destroy him, the next thing he knew—

Soft lips pressed against his cheek.

Gabi kissed him.

Pedri froze. Completely starstruck, his mind short-circuiting while she just… casually pulled away, completely unaware of the damage she just caused.

And then, as if she hadn’t just ruined him, she grinned. “Heard you bought more vodka! I’m gonna go get some!”

And just like that—before Pedri could even react—she disappeared into the crowd, vanishing into the neon lights and smoke like she was never even there.

Pedri stood there, absolutely shell-shocked, his cheek still tingling from where Gabi had kissed him. The bass of the music vibrated through the floor, and people moved around him, but he felt nothing. Heard nothing.

Because what the hell just happened?

One second, she was whispering in his ear, driving him insane, and the next—she kissed him, dropped a bomb about drinking half a bottle of vodka, and then vanished into the party like some kind of drunken magician.

Absolutely not.

There was no way he was letting her disappear into this chaos when she was already drunk out of her mind.

His chest felt tight as his eyes swept across the crowded room, his pulse pounding in his ears. The flashing neon lights did nothing to help—colors blurring, people shifting—but finally, finally, he spotted her.

By the drinks table.

Gabi stood there, staring at a bottle of vodka as if she were mentally trying to get it to open by itself. Her brows furrowed in d,eep concentration, lips pursed slightly, fingers hovering near the cap—but she wasn’t actually touching it.

Pedri exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face.

For fuck’s sake.

Without another thought, heand moved, cutting through the crowd with practiced ease, zeroing in on her like a man on a mission.

Just as Gabi finally reached for the bottle, Pedri snatched it away.

"Nope."

A dramatic ga asp.

Gabi spun around, offended like he had just stolen her firstborn child.

“Hey!” she cried, eyes wide. “Thass mine!”

Pedri raised an eyebrow. “Yours?”

“Yes,” she huffed, crossing her arms. Or, well—trying to. Her movements were loose, uncoordinated, as if even her own body wasn’t sure what it was doing. “I claimed it.”

Pedri let out a breathy laugh. “Oh, did you?”

“Yes.” She nodded so seriously—like she was delivering royal decree. Then, she poked his chest, her finger pressing against the fabric of his hoodie with great effort. “And you, sir, are stealing.”

Pedri leaned down slightly, leveling her with a look. “Gabi, you’ve already had half a bottle. I think that’s enough for one night, don’t you?”

She squinted up at him. “Pedri, sweetheart, my love—”

Oh, fuck.

He was in trouble.

“—I’m not even drunk.”

Pedri just stared at her. “Oh? You’re not?”

“Nope.” She popped the ‘p’ dramatically, swaying slightly. “M’ perfectly fine.”

Pedri tilted his head, amusement creeping into his voice. “Then what’s seven times eight?”

Gabi gasped.

Her entire body stiffened, eyes going huge with genuine betrayal.

She staggered back a step, clutching her chest as if he had just stabbed her.

“How dare you?” she whispered, voice full of pure devastation.

Pedri bit the inside of his cheek, fighting a laugh.

Her lips parted, her expression twisting into something dramatic as she looked at him like he was some traitorous villain. “What kind of best friend tests his friends like that?”

Pedri exhaled sharply. “Gabi—”

“Math, Pedri?” She pointed an accusatory finger at him, stumbling slightly as she stepped closer. “You would really do that to me?”

“I can’t believe this.” She threw her hands up, completely ignoring the way she almost smacked someone passing by. “I thought we had trust!”

Gabi gasped, her eyes going comically wide as she swayed on her feet, pointing an accusing finger at Pedri. “You—” she hiccuped, brows furrowing in intense concentration, “—are no fun.”

Pedri let out a slow breath, his grip tightening on the vodka bottle as she made yet another attempt to grab it. Her fingers barely grazed the glass before he pulled it further away, holding it above her reach like she was some kind of feral child.

“Gabi,” he said, voice laced with exhaustion, “you’re drunk.”

“No, you’re drunk,” she snapped back without thinking, blinking up at him like she had just delivered the perfect comeback.

Pedri raised an eyebrow. “I don’t drink.”

“Exactly!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up like she had just proven some groundbreaking theory. “How would you even know what too drunk is, huh? HUH, PEDRO?”

Pedri closed his eyes for a brief second. Deep breaths. Patience.

“That’s not my name.”

“Yes, it is,” she huffed, swaying slightly as she reached for the bottle again. “And I—” another hiccup, “—demand you return what is rightfully mine.”

Pedri leaned back, holding the bottle further out of her reach. “Not happening, Hamster.”

“PEDRI,” she whined, stomping her foot like a frustrated child. “Give. Me. The. Vodka.”

He looked at her flatly. “No.”

“Why are you like this?” she groaned, throwing her hands up dramatically. “Who made you this boring?”

“I’m not boring,” he said with a sigh. “I’m just responsible.”

Gabi let out a loud, exaggerated scoff. “That’s literally the same thing.”

Pedri rubbed a hand down his face. “Gabi—”

She suddenly gasped, stumbling forward as she gripped onto his hoodie like she had just discovered the biggest scandal of the century.

“Oh my God.”

Pedri tensed. “What now?”

“YOU JUST LOVE CONTROLLING ME, DON’T YOU?”

Pedri blinked. “What?”

Gabi nodded aggressively, wobbling in place. “First, you tell me not to drink—”

“Because you had half a bottle—”

“Then, you tell me what to do—”

“Because you tried to climb the kitchen counter—”

“And now, you’re stealing from me.” She gasped, stepping back like she had just uncovered some grand betrayal. “You’re a thief, Pedri!”

Pedri let out a slow, tired exhale. “I swear to God, Gabi—”

“LET GO OF MY BOTTLE RIGHT FUCKING NOW, PEDRO!”

And that was it.

That was his final straw.

Pedri moved before she could react, grabbing her by the waist and effortlessly flipping her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing.

A shriek.

A loud one.

“PEDRI, PUT ME DOWN, YOU TRAITOR!”

“Nope.”

“YOU CAN’T JUST KIDNAP ME!”

“I literally can.”

“THIS IS ILLEGAL!”

Pedri barely spared her a glance as he adjusted his grip, making sure she wouldn’t slip. “Sue me.”

“I WILL!”

“No, you won’t.”

Gabi huffed dramatically, her arms crossed even though she was dangling upside down. “I hate you.”

Pedri smirked, making his way toward the stairs. “No, you don’t.”

“...I do.”

“Sure, Hamster.”

“You are officially my enemy.”

“Mmmhmm.”

“I’m never talking to you again.”

Pedri let out a breathy chuckle. “Can’t wait for that.”

Gabi gasped, smacking his back. “PEDRI!”

Pedri just shook his head, grinning as he carried her up the stairs, her drunken protests echoing through the hallway.

This girl.

She was actually going to be the death of him.

──── ୨୧ ────

[bisexuallsokka]

62. “Do you have a ride home?”

i had a vision of modern au zukka with this like maybe they were out drinking and they had a fight or something IDK OR OR SOME DRUNK LOVE CONFESSIONS HAPPENED AH

Sokka is brought back to consciousness by the obnoxious buzzing of his phone in his hand. He takes a moment to get his bearings, realizing he had unintentionally fallen asleep sometime after his phone call with Toph (no, Toph, I'm not going out tonight...I don't care if Zuko is less fun when I'm not around, trust me, my presence would actually make it worse right now...ask him, he's the one- and you hung up on me) despite being convinced his racing mind would keep him up all night.

He holds up his phone to check the time - right, someone is calling him, that's what woke him up - and can only watch as the call, once again from Toph, stops before he can answer it. He's left staring at his wallpaper, a picture of him and Zuko because of course it is, and the numbers telling him it's almost 3am.

He sighs and opens his phone to call Toph again, but another call is coming through and he answers right away.

"Hey, sorry I-"

"Ha! I told you he would answer for you!" he hears Toph shout, then there's a "Sokka!" from Zuko.

Sokka pulls away the phone to see that the call is from Zuko's phone, and he holds back a sigh. "Hey guys. Having fun?"

"Zuko was sad drinking so I bought him some shots and made him do karaoke with me until he was happy drinking," Toph tells him proudly. "You were right, you being here would have been way worse."

Sokka rubs at his eyes, wishing he wasn't on speakerphone, but if Toph was filled in on their fight he also doesn't particularly want to talk to either of them alone. "Have you guys been talking about me?"

"No," Zuko says quickly. "Yes!" Toph says at the same time, then the two of them giggle.

Sokka feels a lot of different emotions over that and doesn't stop himself from sighing this time. "It's late. Zuko, are you coming ho--back to the apartment, or staying at Toph's tonight?"

"About that," Zuko says, then doesn't elaborate, and Sokka pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Do you have a ride home?" he asks.

Toph and Zuko are silent, then Zuko says, "You don't have to, I know it's late..."

"But also our phones are very close to dying so an Uber isn't our best bet at the moment," Toph finishes. "And I'll crash on your couch so you don't have to drive across town."

Sokka stares at his ceiling in the darkness. "Fine. Text me the address and I'll be there as soon as I can. Get some water and wait outside for me."

He had fallen asleep in his clothes, so once he hangs up he just grabs a jacket and his keys and makes his way down the stairs of his building and to his car. The night air is a little chilly and he takes a few deep breaths, letting it wake him up and calm him down before getting in his car and starting it.

The street name is misspelled in the text from Zuko, but Sokka has been to this bar with him, so he pulls up the directions and drives, putting on music to keep him distracted until he gets there.

It doesn't work. He doesn't hear a single lyric as he thinks about his fight with Zuko earlier. He has been acting so distant lately, and when Sokka finally confronted him about it, Zuko just snapped at him. Sokka has been his friend long enough to know the insults and harsh words were just a defense mechanism to keep pushing Sokka away, but Sokka has never been on the receiving end of it, which just made everything hurt more.

He thought they were closer than that.

When he gets to the bar he finds Zuko and Toph sitting on the sidewalk further down the street. Zuko is leaning back on his hands, staring at the sky, and Toph is leaning against him, eyes closed. Sokka pulls up next to them and gets out of the car to help Toph into the backseat after Zuko shakes her awake. Zuko gets in next to her, and Sokka feels Zuko's eyes on him as he starts driving in silence.

"Thanks, Sokka," Zuko says.

"Sure. Don't throw up in my backseat," he says curtly, ignoring the memory of the time Zuko did throw up in this car and he just gently helped Zuko get inside, cleaned him up, then got him in bed before going out and cleaning the mess in his car.

They make it back home with no incident and Toph wakes up enough to just need to hold onto Zuko's arm to let him guide her inside. She immediately passes out on the couch and when Sokka comes back to the living room with two glasses of water, he catches Zuko gently laying a blanket over her.

Sokka places one glass on the coffee table near Toph and holds the other one out to Zuko without looking at him. It takes Zuko two tries to grab it, then he drains it and barely manages to set it on the coffee table without breaking it.

"Thanks Sokka," Zuko says softly. "Thanks for the ride. Thanks for..." he gestures vaguely toward Sokka, which Sokka doesn't understand but doesn't ask about.

"What are friends for?" Sokka says bitterly, but Zuko is too out of it to catch its meaning. He just sighs happily and when Sokka finally looks at him he's surprised and, if he's honest, a little giddy at Zuko's sweet smile and gaze.

Sokka forces himself to look away. "You should get to bed. We can...we can talk in the morning."

Zuko practically throws himself in Sokka's arms and he barely manages to catch him, his arms coming up out of instinct and Zuko's arms squeezing Sokka tightly. "Thanks. I love you."

He's drunk, Zuko is drunk and just a few hours ago he was being such an asshole to Sokka, and they say platonic "love you"s all the time, so it shouldn't affect Sokka the way it does, but Sokka can't help but close his eyes and squeeze him back. "I love you, too."

"No," Zuko pulls back to look him in the eyes. "I love you, Sokka. That's why I was so mad at you. Because I love you. And I don't know what to do about it."

Sokka blinks, his heart racing as their argument from earlier starts to make more sense. He had wondered if Zuko had caught onto Sokka's feelings and was doing a shitty job of rejecting him, but if Zuko loves him too... "What?"

Zuko laughs like Sokka said something funny. "Goodnight."

Sokka is frozen to the spot as he watches Zuko stumble down the hall, first opening a closet before correcting himself and making it to his room.

Finally Sokka manages to make it to his own room, his mind racing as he stares at his ceiling. This time, he doesn't fall asleep at all.

[obsidianpen]

So… I’m loving the B&G playlist 😭🙏🏼 it’s perfect.

And! If you feel comfortable answering: how did you get into writing? Also, how did you get so good? Was it something you always did? Write? Do you have any advice you’d give to yourself when you first started?

I ask as a fellow writer who is yet to publish any fics or original works (perfectionism is my detriment)… but I’m getting there :)

Anyways, answer only if you feel comfortable. Have a good day! 🌷

I’m glad you’re liking it! There’s some bangers on there!!

and thank you so much!! But I really don’t think I’m that good at writing. I think I’m good at story telling, which is something of a different skill imo, but writing… I used to really suck to be quite honest. But that’s par for the course, most of us suck at most things when we start. I used to draw ponies with massively unnaturally eyes. The first time I played ddr I hit one arrow and ran away (I got scary good at ddr at one point in my life btw). And when I first decided to try writing, it was a hot mess.

but that’s why fanfiction is so awesome! When people follow the ‘don’t like don’t read rule’, anyway. I sucked but I had a small little fanclub of about three people and they kept me going!! And just like with anything else, if you keep doing it, you will get better. Art is not a god given gift, it’s a skill like anything else.

as for what got me into it though…. Good question. I think I just wanted to see specific themes in the books/games that I was into, and when I couldn’t find the exact story I wanted, I started to write them.

Aaaand as for advice I’d give myself… I don’t think I’d give any honestly. I was a kid and I was having fun. I wasn’t thinking about anything serious, I was just winging it, totally unworried with whether what I wrote was good or not, hoping someone else might like it. I have no advice to give to someone with that beautiful mindset other than ‘yeah girl. Get it.’

[for-a-longlongtime]

WIP on Wednesday Thursday

Well, first of all, my WIP folder is currently looking like this:

But fuck it, we ball right?

I got tagged by @din-cognito and @avastrasposts this week, and @the-blind-assassin-12 and @lotusbxtch last week, so I've got some catching up to do! I've been all over the place working on different docs, so you're getting a few tidbits this week.

I've posted snippets of this before (and lo! a hozier title! I'm gonna have to change that though because the story ended up going differently than planned), and after it having been on hold for months, the pieces are coming together at last.

let me wrap my teeth around the world (working title) | Santiago x Frankie “You think we did the right thing there?” Santiago says, staring at the ceiling as he avoids Frankie's eyes. Unsure he really wants to hear the answer, because of how likely it is that he is the only person who can’t answer that with a decisive yes. Fish was the only one on their team - besides Tom - who'd had a family to take care of, who needed that money probably more than any of them did because of his pilot license being suspended. “I mean... Following his lead with the money.” No answer. The deafening silence lasts for much too long. Santi grimaces as he closes his eyes. Shit. Why did he even ask? He keeps fucking up like this.

Next we've got a WIP that I haven't worked on in a bit (it wanted to go on break, bummerrr) but that I'm hoping to pick up very soon.

Untitled | Reynaldo x Matthew It’s those large hands that draw Matt’s attention first.  That, and the golden chain partially but-not-quite hiding under that checkered golf shirt, glistening every now and then in the bright afternoon sun. It’s almost as bright as the gleam in Sophie’s eyes when she throws back a shot and listens to the older man introduce himself as Reynaldo. Matt is only vaguely aware of the prepared talk that the man launches into, a few words standing out, such as ‘exclusive members only’ and ‘the best golf club in all of Arizona’. Things that everybody wanted to hear, and that gave Sophie all the more opportunity to coo at the man how this was ‘one of the best premium golf clubs’ she’d ever been at. It probably isn’t all that premium though, considering the Scotts and Dale had been able to book this place on a budget. And truth be told, it’s still unclear to Matt why they are here on a ‘vow renewal bachelor staycation’, which seemed a contradiction on its own. Or even why Sophie showed up here, acting like one of the guys, just long enough until she found someone who was willing to give her the attention she was clearly looking for. He’d seen the pattern before, especially with the girls on the Kel-squad. None of that matters though, he tries to remind himself as they make their way up to the golf course. He’s simply glad to get away from Kelsey for a couple of days - not just for some peace and quiet, but also so he doesn’t have to wonder if she’s talking to Domingo every time she smiles at an incoming message on her phone.

Finally, this last one is still in the VERY early stages, but ngl... I'm excited. Thank you to the folks who encouraged me to keep going with it! This is hella out of my comfort zone but what the hell, that's where the fun is, right? This one is going to more filth than I'll probably be able to shove into an one shot... so it may end up becoming two or three parts. We'll see.

for glory (working title) | Harry Castillo Harry is speechless, shock painted over his features, and it takes him a moment to find his voice. "You wouldn't dare to," he finally manages to say, and what had previously been surprise in his eyes has now flipped into unmistakeable rage. "Mmm, is that so, Harry? What - you think I've got morals or something?"

EDIT: WAIT!! I forgot to add one final excerpt! This is from a yet to be decided chapter from Joel and Marcus Moreno' story. I spent way too much time trying to find the right face claim moments for them at different ages, and this is what I settled on for their mid-twenties:

Joel in his mid-twenties (a.k.a. Zach Wellison in Brothers & Sisters)

Marcus Moreno in his late twenties (a.k.a. looking like Comandante Veracruz from the Burn Notice movie).

Yes, I'm as shocked as y'all are about the latter, but I promise it'll make sense. As for the excerpt:

Untitled series | Joel Miller x Marcus Moreno Marcus folds his arms as he leans back against the wall, looking every bit the charismatic guy most people know him to be. But Joel has known him a long time and can see where the varnish has cracked, and the parts he so desperately tries to cover up.  "So you don't like it. How I look. You don't like me anymore," Marcus says after a moment, and there’s something about all that combativeness on display - as well as the bitter irony of those words - that hits Joel much harder than he was prepared for. He doesn’t have the same defense system that Marcus clearly is equipped with; the mask that he can put on and off so easily after years of practice. So he just shakes his head. "Think it's been too long since you've had someone push back against you, M." "The fuck is that supposed to mean?" Joel tries to hide his sigh by drinking from his coffee, but the beverage has gone cold, the stale taste of it now bitter on his tongue in a way that feels oddly specific to this situation. "Don't pick a fight with me because you're unhappy, Marcus," he says softly.

I know a lot of y'all already posted a WIP Wednesday, so I'm just gonna link a couple of folks, no pressure as always (apologies if you've already made your weekly WIP update):

@perotovar @sin-djarin @lotusbxtch @mountainsandmayhem @qveerthe0ry

@letsgobarbs @gothcsz @milla-frenchy @guiltyasdave @oliveksmoked

@magpiepills @arcanefox207 @reallyrallyauthor @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @clubsoft

@romanarose @the-blind-assassin-12

[thollandneedy]

Hallo! Can you write something about Peters and readers first make up? Doesn’t have to be anything too nsfw 😽

A/n: BABY I'M SO SORRY I TOOK SO LONG TO RESPOND! I'm a college student and english teacher so my schedule is crazy. Thank u for the request tho! I hope you like it

Warnings: Actually just heavy make out

Don’t forget to share, like, comment and leave your ideas here

Bellah’s Masterlist 🪻

Truth or dare- Peter Parker

Y/n was never the kind of girl who had many friends, mainly because she was completely excluded from social circles at school due to her lack of boldness. Y/n wasn't one for going to parties, drinking until she dropped, and having sex with random boys just to count on her fingers how many people had already passed through her body. Unlike them, Y/n sought real connections with people who cared about her, and the only person she could think of was Peter Parker.

The boy with the brown eyes and messy curls had always been there for her, cheering her up when no one had asked her out on Valentine's Day or even when she had her first break-up in the first year of high school. Third year was about to end, and it wasn't as if she'd never done anything with a boy, but it had never been like it was with Peter.

And it all happened over a game of truth or dare.

“I don't understand how you can be team Conrad.” Y/n says to Peter while watching the show.

“I'm not, but I think he's misunderstood.” Peter retorts, settling down on the sofa in Y/n's living room.

“He was literally an asshole with Belly, and when he had the chance to date her, he just broke it off because he didn't want to get involved in a relationship after his mother died.” The girl pressed the pause button on the remote control, turning to the brunette as she explained her thesis.

“And Jeremiah has always wanted everything that was his brother's. I like him better than Conrad in some ways, but there's no denying that Conrad loved Belly and Jeremiah was just in love.” Peter turned his torso towards the girl who had the light of the television reflected on her skin and her long black silk pyjamas.

“Oh, for God's sake” The girl throws her head back, laughing to herself.

“I can't believe we're discussing 'The summer that I turned pretty', while your parents are at a fancy, expensive dinner, probably filling up on wine to catch up later.” Peter says, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket to check the time.

“Oh, Peter! Shut up, that's disgusting!” Y/n exclaims, covering her ears.

“We should do something fun.” Peter says, tossing his cell phone next to the empty candy bags and approaching his best friend.

“Like what?” The girl asked, approaching him, who gave her a thoughtful look.

“I don't know. What's your idea?” Peter replied, crossing his arms exposed by the 'Star Wars' short-sleeved shirt he was wearing.

“Truth or dare?” Y/n suggested, drawing a laugh from him.

“Just us?” Peter asks, even though he already knows the answer.

“Hey! My puppy's in the living room too, you know?” Y/n points to the other side of the room, where her puppy is camping out on a pink rug, sleeping peacefully.

The room had low lights, while some windows were open so that the cold air could enter the room and the blankets became more and more usable. It was almost a ritual that every Friday, Peter and Y/n would get together to go out after school, it could be any kind of activity, but just the two of them. Not that they didn't have other friends, but unlike anyone else, they both had an energy that no one else could match. It was as if they were the only people who really understood each other, and that made them inseparable. Some people said that friendship between a man and a woman never worked out, but for them, it was never a fact that prevented intimacy.

Peter and Y/n shared everything, even the most intimate things they could tell someone.

“Okay, okay.” Peter raises both hands in an act of surrender. “You start since you had the idea.”

“Truth or dare?” The girl asks, placing both hands between her legs.

“Truth.”

“Why did you stop liking Liz Allen?” Y/n asked, causing the brunette to react with a silent ‘wow’, drawing a laugh from her.

“Um, I kind of understood that we were never going to have anything. After I kissed her the first time, I just had that feeling that she wasn't the right person, you know? And I don't want to bet my cards on something that could go wrong.” Peter replied, staring into the tired eyes of Y/n, who was leaning back against the colorful cushions of the light sofa.

“I want the truth too.” The girl anticipates his words.

Peter thought carefully before asking, allowing his curiosity to go beyond his decency.

“Did you and your ex… you know? You never said anything, so I assumed you'd never done anything, but I don't know? Maybe you didn't want to tell me.” Peter gets lost in the middle of his explanations, causing his friend to put one of her hands over her own mouth to cover her loud laughter.

“Peter, you naughty boy.” Y/n jokes, throwing one of the pillows that was on his back at the boy, who quickly manages to catch the fluffy object. “Shit, sometimes I forget you have superpowers.”

“That's right,” he says, throwing the pillow back at the girl, who smiles and tries to cover herself with the brown blanket.

“Um, no. We didn't get past second base, but I didn't care much about that either. I think it was even better that it didn't happen, because I feel like I would have regretted it.” Y/n replied, looking at his fingers as he said it.

“And why do you think that?” Peter asks, laying his shoulder against the cushions.

“I can't say. I think it's the same thing that happened with Liz. She just… wasn't the right person, you know?” Y/n replied, smiling emotionlessly.

Peter didn't see Y/n as a possible girlfriend, not least because it had never crossed his mind that he might have feelings for her. The brunette told himself that Y/n was the only person he could ever think of breaking his heart with, as she was too valuable to him to have any other feelings for her, which would eventually end their years of friendship. However, something inside him seemed to want to jump out of his chest and propose something.

“I want a dare this time.” Peter announced.

“Wow, Peter Parker being radical.” Y/n jokes. “What do you have in mind for a challenge? Eating cinnamon?”

“Kissing you.” Peter says, causing Y/n's face to lose the smiling expression on his lips, as if his stomach had dropped.

Like Peter, Y/n didn't think of him as a possible romance, even though she occasionally dried him off in the gym when she was doing bench presses. However, there was no kind of romantic involvement that could affect their friendship to the point of breaking up, since the idea of not having each other seemed to be suffocating.

“I think the wine we drank was spoiled.” Y/n comments jokingly. “Seriously, Peter. Do you think that would be a good idea?”

“I think a bad idea would be for us to stay with people who could hurt us. If we did it together, it wouldn't be bad because we already know each other, you know?” Peter explains, standing up.

“So you're proposing that we take each other's virginity?” Y/n frowned, still feeling her heart leap out of her chest.

As much as he wanted to fight the feeling, his brain kept getting lost in a thousand and one thoughts.

“Well, it would be more yours than mine.” Peter commented, looking away, causing an insight to flash through Y/n's mind as he remembered that his best friend was no longer a virgin.

“And then we'll pretend it didn't happen?” Y/n also stood up, taking the brown blanket she had on top of her.

“I'll act however you want me to. I don't want to make you uncomfortable.” Peter says, still unable to decipher whether the questions being asked were a yes or a no.

Y/n bites her lower lip, quickly analyzing all the possible possibilities she can think of. The girl denied it to herself, taking a deep breath and giving up. The screen on her cell phone was only eight in the evening, so she would have time before her parents got home and possibly disrupted something between the two of them.

“Are you sure about this? I don't want it to be something impulsive.” Y/n confesses.

“I would never hurt you.” Peter holds one of her hands, allowing his torso to come closer to hers.

Their eyes meet in a second, as if everything is silent. Parker smiles, expressing a line, and then squeezes the delicate hands of the girl whose heart was about to burst out of her mouth.

“I want you to be able to have a good time, with someone you trust and who won't pretend they don't know you when it's over.” Peter says, drawing a silly laugh from her. “But if you don't want to, that's fine too. We pretend to be drunk and forget about it in the morning.”

Silence hangs in the air once again, and the sound of cars honking are the only sounds that can be heard. Y/n could feel her legs getting weaker and weaker, and her chest heavier as she looked at every detail of Peter. His innocent eyes, his brunette hair that came down in a few messy curls and small expression lines in his eyes from smiling too much. Y/n approaches him, making their airs mingle.

“ Is everything all right?” Y/n asked, almost touching Peter's soft lips.

“Please.” He says almost pleadingly, until their lips meet.

Peter kissed her as if he didn't want her to slip out of his arms, while the girl's delicate fingers found the boy's brunette curls.

It was a strong kiss, with a rush and readiness to do anything.And as much as they had once said that they would never think of each other in a sexual way, it seemed that their bodies didn't think so. It was urgent, suffocating and needy. Y/n ran his nails down the back of his best friend's neck, drawing a gasp from him.Peter responded with kisses that went down to her neck, leaving no marks, but rather wet spaces all over it, causing her hair to stand on end and her eyes to close. “You're so beautiful.” He says between wet kisses.

“And you're very hot.”

The girl's hands go down to the hem of Peter's pajamas, feeling his abdominal muscles and warm skin. Peter smiles to himself as he feels his best friend's cold hands touching him, not guiding her so that she feels comfortable enough to do what she feels like doing.

Peter feels his sweatpants getting tighter and tighter, while Y/n's body seems to be begging to be touched in every way. The girl's hands shyly descend briefly to the hem of the brunette's pants, but quickly return to his abdomen as if she were just playing with him. A dangerous game.

The brunette continues kissing her neck, until one of his hands passes behind the girl's ass, lifting her up and placing her on his lap without taking his lips off her. His hands began to grip her buttocks firmly, pressing them closer and closer to him. Y/n moaned low in response against Peter's ear, giving him permission to return his lips to hers, hungrier and hungrier as she was. Their tongues battled for dominance, making their tastes mingle.

“Peter.” Y/n said softly, holding his head gently.

“Yes, love.” Peter stops immediately.

“Take me to my room.” She asks with reddened lips.

“Whatever you want.”

[ririabeam]

Thank you for the nice comment ^^

I think you're asking a question(?)

Well I'm Tsumugi so the obvious short answer would be AAAAA I LOVE JUNKO/RYOKOOOO <3<3<3!!jkfjkdlfk

kfdfn I feel I'd end up writing a long essay of fangirl and reasons, but if u want that I'd include it below :3

I have stated some reasons for Junko in my birthday depression comic post

I know Junko is a villian but I find comfort in her in some ways, doesn't mean I condone her actions.

There's a lot of things I relate to Junko/Ryoko!

Junko->SHE'S SO HOT N PRETTY... I also loveee how interesting and fun of a villian she is! She is actually a very complicated character especially after reading DR zero. I love thinking and analysing about how her talent, thoughts and emotions led her to be the villain she is

Being born with her ultimate analytical ability drove her crazy, being able to predict everything and everyone made life meaningless and boring for her. I know she did horrible things to entertain herself, but I can't help but feel she is not 100% evil and actually wanted to feel normal happiness, which makes me kinda sad.

She was born like this without her own choice, which is a suffering I relate to. We don't choose to be born or not or get to choose all our circumstances or what we are born with.

I like her impulsiveness, imagination too! I relate to it haha and whenever she talks and does things is so entertaining tbh XD Her switching personalities to entertain herself, her way of speaking changing all the time e.g.

Ryoko-> I'm forgetful and I write notes to keep track of things so I don't forget to do them. I write a diary too though not about everything that happened like her

Tbh reading DR zero and writing why I like Ryoko to myself is the reason I was able to find out I had amnesia too

In another universe, I'm Yuno Gasai. My past is like in Mirai Nikki. After the birthday depression comic, I had been working on recovering my memories and healing from it

I really love how funny and cheerful Ryoko is too, it was so funny to read her wild imagination like working in the cornfields with Matsuda and going to NASA X'DD

I really enjoyed reading all her thoughts in DR zero X'D

I relate to when she felt she was being dragged into everything that doesn't have anything to do with her (as she had forgotten she was involved in those)

I feel a lot of my life, I'm controlled and being dragged into things too.

+ I have amnesia too, so there are also moments when my memories come back, it felt like when Ryoko was feeling like that. I felt I was running away from myself/my memories. I feel like my brain had forgotten to protect me when I wasn't able to deal with those things in the past.

Forgetting doesn't mean it has nothing to do with you.

The past may not define me as a person today, but it has shaped me + helped me learn from mistakes. Remembering is how I'm able to work through my traumas and mindsets to recover.

Ryoko chanting "This has nothing to do with me" to cope is also something I relate to as I tend to repeat some phrases to redirect my obsession/focus/ground/reassure myself

I realllyyyy love Junko/Ryoko sm, comfort character!! <3 <3 <3

I love thinking about the contrast and two sides to oneself theme as it is something that connects to me deeply.

Been grinding these sketches since March 2024 to improve my anatomy, I'm so happy to finally be able to share them! 😆💖 I felt it was weird for me to have shared my Mirai Nikki ones first as those are newer. So I finished these DR ones. The oldest sketch is the Miu expressions (last one) and the newest is Junko and Miu sketch page~

There had been months of breaks while working on the things I had been posting lately, I only sketched when I have the emotion. I feel when I draw while feeling the emotion, it is when I draw the pose best ^^ It was not only a practice but a way to get out my emotions like hurt

I was inspired by anime character refrence sheets and a big inspiration was the Kill la Kill artbook sketches! I'm happy to see my art becoming more "official" looking? XD As in, I like that I feel I've reached the level I want, it really looks like the art I would see in artbooks e.g.

I think my improvement of anatomy and poses can be seen in my recent finished works and these sketches had been a contribution to that ^^ My friend, Setsuya, had been helping me from time to time, and I learnt that I don't seem to understand body language very well which hindered me in getting better at poses. I started to study psychology, body language e.g. I find it interesting that how much something like the hand is angled tells a lot about how the character is feeling or how they are like. Different hand poses, how the legs are standing e.g. gives off different emotions and vibes aaa

There's a lot I can still work on and learn, but I'm proud of reaching here and I finally enjoy drawing poses as I don't struggle as much as when I first started! Understanding poses makes drawing them fun, so I'm really grateful of my friend for helping me ^^

[javierduffy]

silly drawover because i missed them :]

[2aceofspades]

Number five with Leo and Mikey Leo feeling guilty about triggering the events of the movie

5.) "I don't know if I can forgive."

I changed it a bit, but hopefully it's still alright 🫣

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Also, here's an extra cuz I misread the request at first gah-!

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Thank you for your submission! 🌟✨

(:

[iamhereinthebg]

Heya Anon!

Tbh I don't really know, Akane is a character who has been dealing with a thousand death flags leading to nothing since his most serious appareance in the manga. And this new timeline is not an exception.

Especially since we know that Kako and Mirai gave him 'You have to try to stay alive' rule as one of his duties

Implying that it is dangerous to altern the past and be the Clock Keeper of the Present, that they have to stay alive to make sure everything goes according to plan.

It also ties to my theory that Akane is the first human clock keeper of the present; Because after all if Kako and Mirai have been asleep since they changed the past in this new timeline, they couldn't have chosen anyone during 1968 and the current events in the manga (2015).

Akane is the only person who is directly coming from a different timeline even compared to Nene and Teru who just remember the stuff from the previous one, being on a time limit before their memories are erased. Akane brought along with him the fact that he is a clock keepers and mystery n°1, something he couldn't be in this new timeline in the first place since both of them don't exist.

But I digress.

Akane has been a little bit different since they came back from the boundary closest to the far shore. It's not that surprising with how much the previous arc must have taken a toll on him. Understanding that Aoi wanted to die, losing her, being impaled, having Teru confirming that he will lose years of his lifespan by turning back human too soon, being beaten up twice by number 6, etc...

Akane is like Kou and Nene on this point, a character who wants to do a lot, but is always a step behind when it comes to supernaturals. And like the other two, it is starting to show in his attitude.

Akane has been shown more unsure of his choices and of his opinions when it's something that never posed him a problem before. He is more scared of Teru (when he knows the exorcist by now) and of being hurt in general,. Something he hasn't showed as much before, liking and enjoying life of course, but never being afraid to be in the first line even if it meant being hurt; Now he acts like he is truly scared of dying.

And he lets things involving Aoi not being his first priority. Refusing to listen to Natsuhiko plan to even try to heal her. Akane has always been showed to be really proactive anyways, that's one of his main character trait. So seeing that he is putting something for a later date and it involves Aoi can be seen as a little bit strange. Akane still loves her deeply and all but he seems to have other plans now, which we learn later in the clock keeper arc. He is not even looking at her directly, having an air of melancholy when he announces he will heal her but not now

That's more of a stretch now, but I think it's pretty safe to assume that Akane has known since a long time what it meant to be the clock keeper of the present, that they had the power to change the timeline. But nothing special has been happening to make the clock keepers take this drastic decision, especially since we know that nothing has been ever changed since the Yugi Twins 4th birthday at least. Which is why he probably never thought about it before. But now that he knows the school mysteries are more important, not just dangerous supernaturals but are protecting the land, and that Hanako has been destroying the yorishiros (which to me, seem to be the seals to keep away the God from the pit/the God Sumire was supposed to marry) he seems to be more aware of this duty in general.

Or if he was made aware of it recently anyways, it's something that the clock keepers must have brought up before the fall festival, being something that even someone as 'Carpe Diem, it is what it is' Aoi Akane may not be able to entirely ignore.

He has been forced A LOT in his role lately too and he clearly doesn't really like it, even if he is good at it.

He finally say 'we' when talking about the clock keepers, and consider even himself as the biggest threat of the school. He doesn't know what to think directly of the supernaturals or seven mysteries now. Knowing that they have an important role to fulfill but still not trusting them at all, knowing of their dangerous tendencies to hurt humans. He can't even look Teru in the eyes when he asks him if the clock keepers are planning to change the timeline over and over again. His feelings for the clock keepers being clearly a difficult case for him to tackle down even if he pretends it's not.

I always said this kinda as a joke, that Akane had the role of a Chosen One but went 'fck no' with it. But I think that it really is this kind of stuff now. Like for Nene who is 'the Kannagi' of the current time and get to make choices and stuff she doesn't want to do. Akane is the same with his role as the clock keeper of the present. Because no matter what he says, he kinda has accepted this fate now, preferring to know what is happening (since he realizes how ignorant he was in the "to the far shore" arc), and having a way to be able to change things. Sacrifying his chance to be 'a normal student'.

But he is not happy with any of it, being the one on the front row to endure all of the supernaturals choices, even knowing that if they don't change back the timeline, he will be the last one to remember. And as said previously, he is now a part of it! He is of course still more human than supernatural but he still acknowledges his role way more than before. Akane hates the way supernaturals work and now what he is doing? Being one of the reason the world is in this state. Of course it's taking a toll on him.

Of course, he doesn't accept everything right away, like Aoi's engagement, it's at first played for jokes but even then, it's understandable with how far their relationship evolved in the previous timeline. He is now thrown into the role of 'the childhood friend who never stood a chance in the first place'. I do think he has a right to be a little bit upset

But after understanding that technically, it's not that much of a big deals in the current events of everything else, since at first most people seems okay, he goes right away to do what the clock keepers asked him to do. Even going to go ask for Teru's help when he knows how much he destroyed his trust.

To finish this long stuff, I think the real big ''death flags' for what is happening right now is of course the fact that he got cursed by the red house (which is a supernatural who has already tried to fool him in the og timeline btw) .

And that there is a chance, like said earlier, that there is only one Akane like him for now, and that he could get stuck here or at least not coming back entirely as the Aoi Akane we knew in the manga (a chance for him to become a full supernatural for example, to be forever now the clock keeper of the present) But for this tbh we don't know a lot it's really more speculation because we know nothing of what could happen to him particulary.

My fav 'suspicious af thing he said' for now in the new timeline is this.

The official translation goes " .. And will love my whole life to the day I die and even beyond that."

When he starts the manga with this.

With the same belief than Hanako that 'death is the end' and now he is considering the After Death, with everything he saw of course, but specifically for him in this case.

Bonus: a thing that is apparently confirmed to be a lie, or he can bend the rules, but he didn't say this in front of Teru and Nene the first time.

And something that I truly think he doesn't know anything about too (my brain truly think Kako and Mirai choose him, and I have some delulu proofs but I digress) Akane do not know sht about the clock keepers and especially doesn't see when people show clear interest in him

[shkika]

I'm literally buzzing with excitement for the Wind comic thing :> I've been coming up with my own theories of what it could hold, and even making a video based on those theories! Tho, it'll take some time to finish XD It's like...A big project. Love your works!

This ask made me so happy I blacked out and this appeared on my screen.

I have the comic planned and sketched out with placeholder dialogue between the rodent sisters I just need to finalize it when I can!