#the cropping is kinda scuffed but it is what it is

[pileofsnakes1]

This is the first thing I thought of after getting out of the cinema

[jupiterpilgrim]

What You Deserve

An Yujin x Male Reader

word count: 13K

Rain pelts the windows of your cramped apartment, a steady gray drizzle that’s been going all afternoon. It’s the kind of weather that makes you want to crawl under a blanket and disappear, and honestly, that’s pretty much what you’ve been doing. You’re sprawled on the couch, still in the same faded hoodie and sweatpants you’ve worn for three days straight, a half-empty bag of Doritos tipped over on the cushion next to you. The TV’s on, some random sci-fi rerun flickering across the screen, but you’re not really watching. Your head’s a mess—has been since the breakup hit you like a truck a week ago. Everything’s fuzzy, like you’re moving through fog, and the ache in your chest hasn’t let up for a second. You keep replaying the last fight, the way she—your ex—stormed out, leaving you feeling like the world’s biggest loser. Again.

The knock at the door jolts you upright, spilling a few stray Doritos onto the floor. You freeze, heart thudding. Who the hell would show up now? You’re not expecting anyone—haven’t even showered since… what, Tuesday? Hesitating, you shuffle over, socks scuffing against the hardwood, and peek through the peephole, then—holy fuck—it’s An Yujin standing there, and your heart does a dumbass somersault right into your throat.

Yujin. Your Yujin—or ex-Yujin, whatever—looking like she just strutted out of some wet dream you’d deny having.

Months—literal months—since you last saw her, and yet here she is, looking like she never left. You fumble with the lock, hands shaky, and crack the door open just enough to see her fully. She’s soaked from the rain, dark hair plastered to her neck, but somehow that only makes her more striking. She’s wearing this oversized black leather jacket, unzipped, over a cropped white tank top that clings to her skin just enough to show off her collarbones and the faintest outline of her bra underneath. Low-rise jeans hug her hips, frayed at the knees, and she’s got these scuffed-up combat boots that somehow tie the whole look together. Casual, yeah, but the kind of casual that screams she knows exactly how good she looks. Water drips from her jacket onto your doormat, and she tilts her head, smirking faintly, like she’s already won something.

“Hey,” she says, voice low and smooth, cutting through the sound of the rain. “Can I come in? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You’re too stunned to argue, stepping back to let her through. She brushes past you, close enough that you catch the scent of rain mixed with whatever expensive perfume she’s still obsessed with. The door clicks shut behind her, and suddenly your dingy living room feels way too small. She glances around, taking in the mess—empty takeout containers on the coffee table, a stack of unopened comics you’ve been meaning to sort through—and then her eyes land back on you. They’re piercing, like she’s already peeling you apart layer by layer.

“Jesus, you’re a wreck,” she says, but there’s a softness to it, a fake kind of concern that you’re too foggy to clock right away. She shrugs off her jacket, tossing it over the arm of your couch like she still owns the place, and flops down onto the cushions, legs crossed, tank top riding up just enough to show a sliver of her stomach. “Heard about what happened. Mutual friends, you know how it goes. You okay?”

You blink, still standing there like an idiot by the door. Your brain's scrambling to catch up. "Uh... Yes. I mean, no. Not really." Your voice cracks, and you hate it—hate how pathetic you sound. You shuffle over to the couch, sinking into it, hands fidgeting with the hem of your hoodie. "It's been... Rough. A week ago. Still kinda blurry."

She nods, leaning forward a little, elbows on her knees. Her eyes don’t leave yours, and it’s unnerving as hell. “I bet. Breakups suck. Especially when it’s someone who didn’t deserve you anyway.” She pauses, letting that sink in, and you feel this weird flicker of warmth, like she’s actually on your side. “What happened? You don’t have to spill everything, just… how you holding up?”

You swallow hard, staring at the floor. The rain’s louder now, drumming against the glass, and it’s easier to focus on that than her face. “I don’t even know. We fought. She left. Said I was too… I dunno, clingy or something. It’s all a mess in my head.” You laugh, but it’s bitter, hollow. “I’m not good at this stuff. Never have been.”

Yujin makes this little sound, like a hum of sympathy, and shifts closer, perching on the edge of the couch now. Her boots scuff the floor, and you can’t help but notice how her jeans stretch tight over her thighs. “That’s rough,” she says, voice dipping softer. “Sounds like she didn’t get you. Like, at all. You’re too sweet for someone who’d pull that crap.” She tilts her head again, hair falling over one shoulder, and it’s unfair how gorgeous she still is, even dripping wet and casual as hell.

You shrug, feeling the weight of everything pressing down harder. “Maybe. I just… I feel like I screwed it up. Like I always do.” Your eyes flick up to hers for a second, then dart away because looking at her too long makes your chest tight in a way you can’t explain.

“Hey, no,” she says, firm but gentle, leaning even closer now. You can feel the heat of her presence, the way she fills up the space between you. “Don’t do that to yourself. You’re not the screw-up here. She didn’t see what she had, that’s on her.” She reaches out, just brushing your knee with her fingers, and it’s like a spark jumps through you. You flinch, but don’t pull away.

You’re quiet for a minute, the room heavy with the sound of rain and your own uneven breathing. She’s watching you, patient but intense, like she’s waiting for you to crack open. And you do, a little. “I’ve just been… sitting here. Feeling like garbage. I don’t know how to shake it.”

Yujin nods, like she gets it completely. “Then don’t shake it alone,” she says, voice dropping again, pulling you in. “You don’t have to. I’m here, right? I showed up because I wanted to see you. Check on you.” She smiles, small but sharp, and it’s like a lifeline tossed into the mess of your head. “Why don’t I stick around? We can talk. Or not talk. Whatever you need.”

You should say no. You know you should. Months ago, she was the one who left you spinning, who made you feel small and needy and not enough. But right now, with the rain and the gloom and the way your whole world feels like it’s caving in, she’s the only thing that looks solid. The only thing that feels like it might hold you up. So you nod, slow and shaky, and mutter, “Yeah. Okay. Stay.”

She leans back, settling into the couch like she never left, and you’re already sinking deeper into something you can’t quite name—but it feels warm, and you’re too tired to fight it.

“Hey,” you say, voice rough from disuse, “you want some hot chocolate or something? It’s crap weather out there. You’re soaked.”

Her eyes flick up to yours, and for a second, you catch this glint—like she’s surprised you’re offering. Then she grins, slow and lazy, and nods. “Yeah, that sounds good. You still make it the same way?”

“Pretty much,” you mutter, pushing yourself up from the couch. Your legs feel wobbly as you shuffle to the kitchen, heart thudding harder than it should. You can’t wrap your head around it—she’s here. Showed up in the rain, no warning, looking like that. You grab a couple of mugs from the cabinet, the chipped blue one she always used to pick and a random green one for yourself. The kettle’s already half-full, so you flick it on, digging out the cocoa powder and a bag of mini marshmallows from the pantry. You’re moving on autopilot, but your brain’s buzzing—why now? Why her?

She calls out from the living room, voice carrying over the hum of the kettle. “You know, I still can’t believe I walked all the way here in this. Guess I just had to see you for myself.”

You glance back at her, catching her stretching her arms over her head, tank top riding up again. “Yeah, well, I can’t believe it either,” you say. The water boils, and you pour it into the mugs, stirring in the cocoa until it’s smooth. A handful of marshmallows goes into hers—she always liked it loaded—and you carry them back, handing hers over carefully. Your fingers brush hers as she takes it, and you pull back fast, sitting down with your own mug cradled in your hands.

She takes a sip, closing her eyes for a second like she’s savoring it. “God, this takes me back,” she says. “You always made this when I was pissed off or whatever. Like clockwork.” She opens her eyes, locking them on you, and there’s this weight in her gaze that makes you squirm.

You shrug, staring into your mug instead of her. “Yeah, guess some things don’t change.” The steam warms your face, and you take a sip, letting the heat settle into you. It’s quiet again, just the rain and the faint hum of the TV, and you feel this pull—like you need to say something, anything, to fill the space. “So… uh, it’s been rough. With her. The ex, I mean. We fought all the time. Like, nonstop. She’d get mad over the dumbest stuff—me staying up late reading comics, or forgetting to text her back right away. And I’d just… I’d try to fix it, but it was like nothing I did was enough.”

Yujin’s listening, mug resting on her knee, her fingers tapping lightly against the ceramic. She doesn’t interrupt, just nods a little, letting you spill. You keep going, the words tumbling out now that you’ve started. “It got worse toward the end. She’d yell, I’d shut down. One time she threw my Switch across the room ‘cause I was playing Zelda instead of, I dunno, staring at her or something. Broke the screen. Then she’d act like I was the one overreacting when I got upset. It was exhausting.”

“Sounds like a nightmare,” Yujin says, her tone even but with this edge—like she’s pissed on your behalf. She shifts, sitting up straighter, and takes another sip. “She didn’t get you at all. Throwing your Switch? That’s psycho. You don’t mess with a guy’s games.”

You huff out a laugh, small and shaky. “Yeah, right? I was so done by the end. But it still… it still messed me up. Like, maybe I was the problem. Too clingy, too needy, too… whatever.” You trail off, staring at the marshmallows melting into your hot chocolate, feeling that familiar pit opening up in your gut.

Yujin sets her mug down on the coffee table with a soft clink, leaning forward now, elbows on her knees. “Hey, don’t do that. Don’t let her flip this on you. She sounds like she sucked to be around, plain and simple.” Her voice is firm, and when you glance up, her eyes are intense, boring into you. “I heard about her, you know. Mutual friends, like I said. Word is she was never that nice to begin with. Kinda had a rep for being a control freak.”

“You… you knew about her?”

She shrugs, casual, but there’s something sharp in it. “Enough. Heard you were dating again and… I dunno, it bugged me. More than it should’ve.” She pauses, looking away for a second, out at the rain-streaked window, then back at you. “Guess I didn’t like picturing you with someone else. Especially not someone who’d treat you like that.”

Your throat goes dry, and you fumble with your mug, setting it down before you spill it. “I didn’t… I mean, it was quick. After us, I just… I didn’t know what I was doing.” You’re stumbling over your words, and she’s watching you, unblinking, like she’s piecing you together. “Maybe I jumped into it too fast. I’m not good at that stuff—figuring things out on the fly. You know that.”

Her lips twitch, not quite a smile, but close. “Yeah, I know. You’re not exactly Mr. Impulse. Always overthinking everything.” She says it like it’s a fact, not a jab, but there’s this undercurrent—like she’s pointing out something you missed. “But it’s not your fault she was a trainwreck. You don’t have to carry that.”

You lean back in the couch, running a hand through your hair. “I guess. Still feels like I should’ve seen it coming. I’m not… I’m not good at picking people, you know? Always end up with someone who makes me feel like I’m lucky they even bother with me.”

Yujin’s quiet for a beat, then she slides off the couch, moving to sit on the coffee table right in front of you, close enough that her knee bumps yours. She’s all sharp edges and soft glow—wet hair framing her face, tank top clinging just right, eyes locked on you like she’s daring you to look away. “You don’t need to feel lucky,” she says. “You’re better than that. Better than her. And honestly? You were always too good for me to deserve back then, too.”

You freeze, caught in the weight of her words. She’s so close now, and the room feels smaller, the air thicker. “You don’t mean that,” you mutter, half to yourself, but she shakes her head quick.

“I do. And you need to hear it.” She reaches out, just resting her hand on your arm, and it’s like the heat of her skin jolts you awake. “You’re a mess right now, yeah, but you don’t have to be alone with it. I’m here. I came here for you. In the freaking rain, no less.” She laughs a little, soft and real, and it’s the first time tonight you feel something lift—like the fog in your head’s thinning out.

You look at her, really look at her, and she’s stupidly gorgeous. The kind of gorgeous that makes your nerdy, self-doubting brain short-circuit. You feel that old pull, the one you could never shake with her, and it’s comforting and terrifying all at once. “Thanks,” you say, quiet, barely audible over the rain. “I… I needed this. More than I thought.”

She smiles, small but warm, and squeezes your arm before letting go. “Anytime. You know I’ve got you.” And the way she says it, the way she’s looking at you, you almost believe it’s that simple—even though deep down, you know nothing with her ever is.

“I missed you,” you say, voice low, almost lost in the sound of the storm. You didn’t mean to say it out loud, but now it’s out there, hanging between you like a live wire.

Her eyes flick up to yours, and for a second, she just looks at you—searching, maybe surprised. Then her lips curve into this slow, easy smile, and there they are: those dimples. Two little indents that used to drive you insane, the ones you’d poke with your finger when she’d laugh, just because it was cute and she’d pretend to hate it. They’re back now, and your chest tightens like someone’s squeezed it. “Yeah?” she says, voice soft but teasing, leaning in just a fraction. “You missed me?”

You nod, swallowing hard, because what else can you do? She’s got you pinned with that look, and you’re already sinking. The fabric of the tight tank top hugging her like a second skin. You can see the faint outline of her bra, the way her collarbone catches the light, and your brain stumbles over itself. Your hands twitch, nervous energy spilling out, and you grip the mug tighter to keep them.

She notices—of course she does. Her smile tilts into something sharper, more knowing. “What’s with you?” she asks, tilting her head so her hair falls over one shoulder. “You’re all jumpy now.”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out at first. Your throat’s dry, and she’s just sitting there, looking like that, and it’s scrambling you. “I—uh. You’re just… you look good,” you manage, lame as hell, but it’s all you’ve got.

She laughs, soft and low, and those dimples deepen. “Thanks. But you’re dodging. What’s going on in that head of yours?” She leans closer, resting her elbows on her knees, and now she’s really in your space—close enough that you can smell the rain on her, mixed with that sharp-sweet perfume she’s always worn.

You hesitate, but she’s got you locked in, and the words spill out again before you can stop them. “I mean it. I really missed you. Like… a lot.” Your voice cracks a little, and you wince, but it’s true, and she can tell.

Her smile softens, less teasing now, more real. “I missed you too,” she says, and it’s quiet, almost like she’s admitting it to herself as much as to you. She sits back a little, crossing her arms under her chest—yeah, that’s not helping your nerves—and looks at you with this steady, unreadable gaze. “Way more than I thought I would. You’re so damn low-profile, you know that? No socials, no updates, nothing. Made it impossible to keep tabs on you.”

“Wait. You… you tried to keep tabs on me?”

She doesn’t even flinch, just shrugs like it’s no big deal. “Yeah. Couldn’t help it. You just… disappeared after we split. I’d scroll through your friend’s posts, hoping you’d pop up in the background or something. Pathetic, right?” She laughs again, but it’s self-aware, almost sheepish, and it’s so unlike her usual confidence that you don’t know what to do with it.

“You were stalking me?” you ask, half-joking, but your pulse is racing now. The idea of her—Yujin—digging around for scraps of you after everything… it’s doing something to you, lighting up a part of your brain you’ve tried to keep dark for months.

She smirks, unbothered. “Stalking’s a strong word. Let’s call it… checking in. But yeah, maybe I was a little obsessed. Can you blame me?” She leans forward again, and now her hand’s on your knee, light but deliberate, and your whole body locks up. “You’ve got this way of sticking in my head. Always have.”

Your mouth goes dry, and you’re staring at her hand like it’s burning through your sweatpants. “I… didn’t know that,” you mutter. She’s looking at you like she’s daring you to push, and you’re too weak to resist. “You really thought about me that much?”

“More than I should’ve,” she says, voice dropping lower, and there’s this edge to it—like she’s letting you in on something dangerous. “Kept wondering what you were up to. Who you were with. Kept thinking about how you’d look at me with those big, dumb puppy eyes when I’d push your buttons.” Her fingers flex against your knee, just enough to make you twitch, and she grins. “Like that. Right there.”

You’re flustered now, heat creeping up your neck, and you hate how easily she’s getting to you. “Shut up,” you mumble, but it’s weak, and she knows it. You push anyway, because part of you needs to hear more—needs to feel this wanted. “So what, you were just… lurking? Keeping score?”

She laughs, tilting her head back, and those dimples flash again, killing you all over. “Not lurking. Just… noticing. And yeah, maybe keeping score a little. Wanted to see if you’d crash and burn without me.” She pauses, eyes flicking over your face, and her voice softens. “Didn’t expect to hear you were dating someone else so fast, though. That stung.”

You swallow, caught in the twist of it—guilt and this weird, messed-up thrill. “It wasn’t… it wasn’t like that. I didn’t plan it. Just happened.”

“Yeah, I get it,” she says, but there’s a flicker of something in her eyes—jealousy, maybe, or regret. “Still sucked, though. Finding out you were with her. Kept imagining you doing all the stuff we used to do. Made me wanna claw my eyes out.” She’s grinning when she says it, but it’s tight, like she’s masking something raw.

Your head’s spinning now, and you can’t stop yourself—you keep digging, chasing the high of her words. “So you were, what, jealous? Obsessed enough to hate it?”

She leans in close again, her face inches from yours, and her voice drops to this husky whisper that makes your stomach flip. “Yeah, jealous. Obsessed, maybe. Whatever you wanna call it. I didn’t like sharing you. Still don’t.” Her hand slides up your thigh, just a little, and it’s enough to set your nerves on fire. “You’ve always been mine, you know. Even when you’re not.”

You should pull back. You should laugh it off, call her out, something—but you don’t. You’re hooked, reeled in by the way she’s looking at you, by the way her confession makes you feel like you’re something. “That’s… kinda messed up,” you say, but your voice is shaky, and your body’s betraying you, leaning toward her instead of away.

“Maybe,” she murmurs, and her lips are so close now you can feel her breath on your skin. “But you like it. I can tell.” She pulls back just enough to smirk at you, those dimples mocking you, daring you to deny it. “Go ahead, tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you don’t miss this—me, right here, knowing you’re all I think about sometimes.”

You can’t. She’s got you dead to rights, and you both know it. Your heart’s hammering, and she’s still got her hand on your thigh, and every nerve in your body is screaming at you to close the gap. “I… I don’t know what to say,” you admit, because it’s true—you’re a mess, and she’s unraveling you stitch by stitch.

“You don’t have to say anything,” she says, voice soft but commanding. “Just don’t pretend you don’t feel it too.” And she’s right—you do. You’re nervous, flustered, but under it all, you’re wanted, and it’s been so long since you’ve felt that. She’s watching you, waiting, and you’re already too far gone to pull back now.

And then, casual as hell, she slides off the table and swings a leg over yours, settling right onto your lap. Just like that, like it’s nothing.

Your sanity cracks.

She’s warm, solid, her weight pressing down on you in a way that shorts out every rational thought you’ve got left. Her tank top rides up slightly as she adjusts, showing a sliver of skin above her jeans, and you’re trying so hard not to stare, not to lose it completely. Your arms stay glued to the couch, fingers digging into the cushions like that’s gonna keep you grounded. She notices, of course, and her smirk deepens, those dimples flashing like a warning sign.

“God, you’re so tense,” she says, voice low and teasing, leaning forward just enough that her breath brushes your jaw. “What’s the matter? Can’t handle me being this close?” Her hands settle on your shoulders, light but deliberate, and you feel the heat of her palms through your hoodie.

You swallow hard, throat tight. “I… uh…” Words fail you, because yeah, she’s right—you’re barely holding it together. She’s sitting on your lap, talking like it’s normal, and your brain’s frying.

She tilts her head, hair falling over one shoulder, and her tone shifts—still playful, but darker, laced with something raw. “You know, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. You with her. Some other girl sitting right here—” she presses her hips down a little, just to make her point, and your breath hitches—“where I used to be. Like she could just slide in and take my place. Drove me up the wall.”

You blink up at her, caught off guard by the edge in her voice. “You… you were that jealous?” It’s a dumb question, but you’re too scrambled to care.

Her eyes narrow, and she leans in closer, her fingers tightening on your shoulders. “Jealous? Try insane. I’d hear stuff—Rei or whoever running their mouth about you two—and I’d picture it. Her on your lap, her hands all over you, her thinking she could have you like I did. Made me wanna track her down and scratch her damn face off.” She laughs, sharp and bitter, but her gaze is steady, pinning you in place. “Stupid, right? But I couldn’t shake it.”

Your mouth’s dry, and you’re just staring at her now, the heat of her body sinking into you, making it impossible to think straight. “She… she didn’t compare,” you mutter, almost to yourself, but it’s loud enough for her to hear. “Not even close. She wasn’t you. Didn’t… do what you do. Didn’t make me feel like this.” Your voice cracks a little, and you hate it, but it’s true—she’s got you surrendered, always has, and no one else ever came close.

Yujin’s smirk softens into something dangerous, something triumphant. “Yeah?” she murmurs, shifting again, pressing herself closer so her chest brushes yours. “What do I do to you, huh? Tell me.” Her hands slide down from your shoulders, resting on your chest now, and you can feel her heartbeat through her fingertips, fast and steady.

You hesitate, your arms still frozen on the couch, but she’s not letting you off that easy. She leans in, lips hovering near your ear, voice dropping to a whisper. “Go ahead. Touch me. You know you want to.”

It’s a mistake—you know it’s a mistake. Once you cross that line, there’s no going back, no pretending this didn’t happen. But your hands move anyway, slow and shaky, lifting from the cushions to settle on her. One lands on her arm, the other on her waist, and the warmth of her skin hits you like a shockwave. She’s soft but firm, the curve of her waist fitting under your palm like it was made for it. Your fingers flex, testing the waters, and she lets out this quiet little hum that sends a jolt straight through you.

“There you go,” she says, voice silky, pulling back just enough to look at you. Her eyes are half-lidded, lips parted, and she’s got that look—like she’s already won. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Been too long since you had your hands on me.”

You nod, barely conscious of it, because yeah, it does. “I missed this,” you admit, quiet and rough, your thumb brushing along the edge of her tank top where it meets her jeans. “Missed you. Your body… you look hotter now. If that’s even possible.”

Her smile lights up, dimples popping again, and it’s like a reward. “You think so?” she asks, voice bright with this twisted kind of joy. She shifts in your lap, deliberate, rolling her hips just enough to make your breath catch. “Good. ‘Cause I’ve been thinking about you too. How you’d feel under me like this. How much I missed having you fall apart for me.”

Your hands tighten on her instinctively, one sliding up her arm to her shoulder, the other gripping her waist harder. “Yujin…” you start, but it’s weak, and she knows it. She’s got you wrapped around her finger, and you’re not even fighting it anymore.

“What?” she murmurs, leaning in so her lips are barely a inch from yours, her breath hot against your skin. “You gonna tell me to stop? Or you gonna admit you’re still mine?” Her fingers trail down your chest, slow and teasing, and your resolve crumbles a little more with every inch.

“I… I shouldn’t,” you say, but it’s half-hearted, and your hands are already moving again, tracing the line of her spine through the thin fabric of her top. “This is a bad idea.”

“Maybe,” she agrees, but her voice is dripping with confidence, and she’s closing the gap, her nose brushing yours. “But you’re not gonna stop me, are you? You missed me too much. Missed this.” She presses herself closer, thighs tightening around your hips, and you feel every bit of her—warm, alive, overwhelming.

“Yeah,” you breathe, giving in, your hands sliding down to her hips now, pulling her against you like you can’t help it. “I did. Missed you. All of you.”

She sighs, but it’s not soft—it’s resigned, almost dramatic, like she’s wrestling with something inside her. “God, you mess me up so bad,” she says, shaking her head, but she’s smiling again, dimples flashing as she cups your face with one hand. “I’m out here losing my mind over you, and you’re just… sitting there, letting me. You’re the worst, you know that?”

You laugh, small and shaky, because it’s all you’ve got left. “You’re the one who climbed into my lap,” you point out, your hands roaming now, one slipping under the hem of her tank top to feel the bare skin of her lower back. “Kinda hard to ignore you.”

“Good,” she says, and her voice drops again, husky and intent. “I don’t want you to ignore me. I want you to think about me. All the time. Like I think about you.” She shifts again, grinding down just enough to make your head spin, and her lips are so close now you can taste the hot chocolate on her breath. “Tell me you still want me. Say it.”

Your hands are all over her now—one on her back, the other gripping her thigh—and you’re done pretending you’ve got any control here. “I want you,” you say, low and rough, and it’s like letting go of a weight you didn’t know you were carrying. “Always have. You know that.”

Her eyes flash, victorious, and she leans in, finally pressing her lips to yours—just a graze at first, testing you. But you’re already gone, pulling her in harder, kissing her like you’ve been starving for it. She tastes sweet, like cocoa and something sharper, and she kisses back like she’s claiming you all over again. When she pulls away, she’s breathless, grinning, those dimples mocking you as she whispers, “See? Told you you’re still mine.”

You don’t argue. You can’t. She’s got you—hook, line, and sinker.

The rain’s still pounding outside, a steady roar that fills the room, but all you can focus on is Yujin. She’s got you pinned—figuratively, literally—straddling your lap like she owns you, and honestly, she might as well. Her hand shoots up, grabbing your cheeks with one firm grip, squeezing just enough to make your lips pucker slightly. Her eyes lock onto yours, sharp and unyielding, and it’s like she’s staring straight through you, peeling back every layer you’ve tried to build up since she’s been gone.

“Say it,” she demands, her thumb brushing the corner of your mouth. “Say you belong to me.”

You’re already a mess—heart racing, breath shallow, her weight pressing into you like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered. Your hands are still on her thighs, fingers digging into the denim, and you can feel the heat of her through it, steady and real. “I belong to you,” you say, the words spilling out fast, rough, like they’ve been waiting there all along.

Her grip tightens for a second, then loosens, and she tilts her head, studying you. “Good. Now tell me—who do you belong to?”

“You,” you answer, no hesitation this time, your voice steadier even though your pulse is hammering in your ears. “I belong to you, Yujin.”

She smirks, satisfied, and there’s this glint in her eyes—like she’s won some game you didn’t even know you were playing. “That’s right,” she says, leaning in closer, her breath hot against your lips. “And no other girl—no one—better come near you again. ‘Cause I don’t know what I’d do. To her... To you.” Her voice drops, and it sends a shiver down your spine—not from fear, but from how much it gets to you.

“It won’t happen,” you mutter, hands flexing against her thighs, squeezing harder like you’re trying to prove it. “Not again. Promise.”

Her smirk softens into something almost sweet, and she closes the gap, kissing you hard and sudden. It’s not gentle—her lips crash into yours like she’s staking a claim, teeth grazing your bottom lip for a split second before she pulls back, just enough to breathe. It’s a reward, yeah, but it’s also a reminder: she’s in charge. Always has been. Your head’s spinning, but you lean into it, chasing the taste of her—cocoa and that sharp edge that’s all Yujin.

“This is for your own good, you know.” Another kiss, quick and firm, then she pulls back to look at you, her hand still holding your face like you’re something precious she’s molding. “I’m the only one who gets you. The only one who knows how to deal with you—how to take care of you.” Her voice is soft now, almost hypnotic, weaving around the sound of the rain. “No one else understands you like I do. You need me.”

You nod, dazed, because she’s right—you do need her. You’ve been a wreck without her, and now she’s here, filling up every empty space like she never left. Her body’s pressed against you, warm and insistent, and you’re hyper-aware of every point of contact. Your hands slide up her thighs, slow and tentative, and you can feel the muscle under the denim, the way she shifts under your touch. She’s solid, grounding, and it’s driving you insane.

She feels it too—your dick’s already hard, straining against your sweatpants, and there’s no hiding it. Her hips shift, just a little, and she smirks again, that knowing look that always unravels you. “Look at you,” she says. “Already falling apart just from this. You’re so easy.”

You groan, low in your throat, embarrassed but also with desire. Your hands grip her tighter, pulling her closer, and she lets you, settling fully against you now. Her hand slides up, fingers brushing over your jaw, then tracing down the side of your face, slow and deliberate. “You’re such a mess without me,” she murmurs, almost to herself, and her eyes are dark, drinking you in. “My little boy. Mommy’s boy.”

The word makes you shiver—mommy. You used to call her that, half-joking but not really, because she’d always take care of you, always know exactly what you needed. Hearing it now, from her lips, in that low, commanding tone—it’s like a switch flips. Your whole body reacts, a jolt running through you, and she clocks it immediately, her smirk widening.

“Yeah,” she says, dragging the word out, her hand resting on your cheek now, thumb brushing your lips. “Mommy’s boy needs some affection, huh? Some care. Look at you—just sitting there, all needy and lost without me.” She shifts again, grinding down subtly, and you can’t hold back the sound that slips out, a quiet, desperate little noise that makes her chuckle.

“Please,” you mutter, barely audible, and you’re not even sure what you’re asking for—just her, all of her, whatever she’ll give you. Your hands are everywhere now, roaming up her thighs to her hips, fingers digging in like you’re afraid she’ll disappear again.

She leans in, kissing you again, slower this time, savoring it. Her lips move against yours like she’s memorizing you, tongue slipping past just enough to make your head spin before she pulls back. “I’ve got you,” she whispers, forehead resting against yours for a second, her breath mingling with yours. “Always have. No one else can do this—make you feel like this. You’re mine, and I’m not letting you forget it again.”

You nod, helpless under her, and she slides her hand down your chest, slow and teasing, resting it just above your waistband. She doesn’t move further, just lets it linger there, and it’s enough to make you twitch, your dick throbbing under her weight. “See?” she says, voice smug but soft. “No one else gets you like this. All wound up, practically begging just from me talking to you. You missed your mommy, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” you admit, voice rough, hands squeezing her thighs again, desperate for more but too wrecked to push for it. “Missed you so much. Just… need you.”

Her smile’s all victory now, dimples flashing as she kisses you again, quick and firm, then pulls back to look at you. “Good boy,” she murmurs, patting your cheek lightly, and it’s condescending as hell but it lights you up anyway. “Mommy’s here now. Gonna take care of you, give you everything you’ve been missing.” She rocks her hips again, just enough to drive you crazy, and her hand slides back up to your face, holding you there so you can’t look away. “You don’t need anyone else. Just me.”

And you believe her—because right now, with her on top of you, her voice in your ear, her touch burning through you, it’s all you want. All you’ve ever wanted.

You lean in and press your lips to her neck. It’s instinct—your mouth finds that spot just below her jaw, soft and warm, and you kiss it slow, dragging your lips against her skin. She tastes like rain and that sharp-sweet perfume, and it’s intoxicating, pulling you in deeper. Your hand starts moving, sliding down her side, fingers digging into the curve of her waist. She’s thicker now, softer in this way that makes your gut tighten, and you squeeze, feeling the give of her flesh under your grip.

She sighs, soft and airy, tilting her head back to give you more room, and it’s like she’s melting into you. “Fuck,” she mutters, voice low, her hands resting on your shoulders for balance. “You’re too good at that.” Her tank top’s tight, stretched over her chest, but it’s not enough—you need more of her. Your fingers tug at the hem, and she gets the hint, shifting back just enough to peel it off in one smooth motion. It lands somewhere on the floor, forgotten, and now she’s sitting there in just her bra, black and simple, hugging her curves like it’s doing you a favor.

Your eyes drop, and you can’t help it—you’re staring. She notices, smirking as she grabs your hand, guiding it to her tummy. Her skin’s warm, smooth under your palm, and she presses your fingers into it, letting you feel her. “Been a while, huh?” she murmurs, voice teasing but heavy with something else. “Missed this?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, your hand sliding up slow, tracing the dip of her stomach, the way it curves into her ribs. She moves your hand higher, deliberate, until it’s resting over her bra, cupping her breast. They’re medium, soft, spilling slightly over your palm as you squeeze, and she lets out this little sound—half sigh, half moan—that hits you right in the gut.

“Got a surprise for you,” she says, leaning in close, her lips brushing your ear. “Wanna see?” Her tone’s playful, but there’s a challenge in it, like she’s testing how far you’ll go.

You nod, throat tight. “Yeah. Show me.”

Her smile’s all teeth, wicked and bright, and she reaches back, fingers deft as she unhooks her bra. It’s slow, deliberate—she slides the straps down her shoulders one by one, letting the fabric fall away like she’s unwrapping something precious. When it drops, you freeze, swallowing hard. Her breasts spill free, and there they are—nipple piercings. Small silver bars glinting under the dim light, cutting through the soft pink of her nipples. Your breath catches, and your dick twitches in your sweats, already straining against the fabric.

“Like ‘em?” she asks, voice husky, watching your face like she’s feeding off your reaction.

“Fuck yeah,” you say, raw and honest, eyes locked on her. “They’re perfect.” They’re bold, unexpected, and so her—a little wild, a little dangerous, and you’re losing your mind over it.

She leans back slightly, letting you take it all in, and her voice drops lower. “They’re sensitive as hell now. Took a while to get used to, but… worth it.” She’s smirking again, daring you, and your hand’s already moving, brushing over one breast, thumb grazing the piercing. The metal’s cool against your skin, a sharp contrast to the warmth of her, and she gasps, sharp and sudden, her body arching into your touch.

“Shit,” she mutters, biting her lip, and you can see it—how sensitive they really are. Her nipple hardens under your fingers, and you roll the bar gently, testing it. She sighs again, louder this time, her hands gripping your shoulders tighter. “You’re gonna kill me with that,” she says, but she’s grinning, eyes half-closed, loving every second.

You hesitate, hand still on her, and glance up. “Can I… suck them?” It’s polite, almost awkward, because you’re so wound up you can barely think straight, but you need to ask.

She laughs, soft and real, tilting her head like she’s charmed by it. “God, you’re cute. Yeah, of course you can. Go for it.” She shifts closer, practically offering herself up, and you don’t waste time.

You lean in, lips brushing her skin first, just below her breast, tasting the faint salt of her. Then you move higher, closing your mouth over her nipple, the piercing cool and hard against your tongue. You suck, slow and careful at first, feeling the way she reacts—her body tensing, a quiet moan slipping out. The metal rolls in your mouth, smooth and strange, and you flick your tongue over it, testing. She groans, low and ragged, her fingers tangling in your hair, pulling you closer.

“Fuck, that’s good,” she breathes, voice rougher now, her hips shifting in your lap. You can feel her pressing against you, the heat of her through her jeans, and your dick’s throbbing, trapped under her weight. Your hand’s still squeezing her other breast, thumb teasing the piercing there, and she’s squirming, every sound she makes driving you further into this haze.

You pull back for a second, just to look—her nipple’s wet from your mouth, the piercing glinting, and she’s flushed, chest heaving. “So sensitive,” you mutter, almost to yourself, and she nods, biting her lip again.

“Told you,” she says, breathless, her hand sliding down your chest now, teasing the edge of your hoodie. “Keep going. Don’t stop.” It’s not a request—it’s a order, and you’re too far gone to do anything but obey.

You dive back in, sucking harder this time, letting your teeth graze the bar just enough to make her hiss. Your hand’s roaming now, sliding down her side, squeezing her thicker hips, her ass, anything you can reach. She’s solid and soft all at once, and it’s messing with you, how much you’ve missed this—missed her. Every sigh, every little twitch of her body, it’s like she’s pulling you apart piece by piece, and you’re letting her.

“Fuck, babe,” she breathes, voice ragged, her fingers tangled tight in your hair. “You’re so good at that—shit, don’t stop.” The pet name hits you like a spark, lighting you up, and you groan against her skin, pressing your face closer, hungry for more of her. She’s warm, soft, the faint taste of her skin driving you wild, and you flick your tongue over the piercing again, slow and deliberate, just to hear her gasp.

“Yeah, like that,” she murmurs, her head tipping back, eyes half-shut. “God, you’re such a sweet boy, huh? My sweet little babe, driving me crazy.” Her words drip with that mix of affection and control she’s always had over you. You switch to her other breast, mouth closing over it, sucking hard, and she moans, louder this time, her hips rocking against you. “You’re starving for me, aren’t you?” she says, smirking through it, her voice all husky and teasing. “Can feel how much you want this.”

You pull back just long enough to mutter, “Fuck yeah, I am,” voice rough, desperate, before diving back in. Your tongue circles her nipple, teasing the piercing, and she’s squirming now, thighs tightening around your hips. Your hands are everywhere—gripping her waist, sliding up her back, squeezing her breasts—because you can’t get enough. She’s thicker, curvier than you remember, and it’s got you ravenous, every touch feeding this ache that’s been building since she walked through the door.

“Missed my body this much, huh, honey?” she asks, leaning down so her lips brush your ear, her breath hot and uneven. “Can’t keep your hands off me.” She shifts, grinding down harder, and you groan into her skin, your dick twitching painfully in your sweats. You’re so hard it’s borderline unbearable, trapped under her weight, and she knows it—fuck, she loves it.

“Yeah,” you rasp, pulling back to catch her eye, your mouth wet from her skin. “Missed you. Missed this. You’re fucking unreal.” Your hand slides down, cupping her ass through her jeans, and you squeeze, pulling her closer. She sighs, pleased, and runs her fingers through your hair, tugging just enough to make you look up at her.

“Look at you, my needy little babe,” she says, grinning, those dimples flashing as she watches you unravel. “All worked up just from sucking on me. You’re too cute.” She leans in, kissing you messy and deep, her tongue sliding against yours, and you’re drowning in it—her taste, her heat, the way she’s owning you without even trying.

You’re panting when she pulls back, and she’s flushed now, chest heaving, her pierced nipples glistening from your mouth. “Shit,” you mutter, staring, and she laughs, soft and smug, like she’s got you exactly where she wants you. Your hands are still on her, roaming, and your dick’s screaming for relief, pressed tight against her. She feels it—has to—and her smirk turns wicked.

“Poor thing,” she coos, shifting back just enough to slide off your lap, slow and deliberate. “You’re rock-hard, aren’t you? Been dying for me this whole time.” She stands in front of you, close enough that her knees brush yours, and you’re staring up at her, chest tight, hands flexing on the couch cushions because you don’t trust yourself to touch her without losing it.

“Yeah,” you admit, voice hoarse, eyes locked on her. “Can’t help it. You’re… fuck, Yujin, you’re killing me.”

“Good,” she says, and there’s that edge again—possessive, commanding. She reaches down, fingers hooking into the waistband of your sweats, and your breath catches as she tugs, slow and teasing. “Let’s see how bad you’ve got it. Lift up for me, babe.” You do, no hesitation, raising your hips so she can pull them down, taking your underwear with them in one smooth motion. They hit the floor, and you’re bare under her gaze, dick hard and aching, precum already beading at the tip.

She steps back, just a little, eyes raking over you, and her tongue darts out to wet her lips. “Damn,” she mutters, almost to herself, then looks back up at you with a grin. “Look at you, all ready for me. My sweet boy’s been holding out, huh?” Her voice is dripping with mock sympathy, but you hear the hunger in it, and it makes your head spin.

“Only for you,” you say, raw and honest, and her smile softens, just for a second, before that wicked edge creeps back in. She drops to her knees in front of you, slow and deliberate, and your stomach flips as she settles between your legs, hands resting on your thighs.

“Gonna take care of you,” she murmurs, leaning in, her breath ghosting over your skin. “My needy little babe deserves it.” And you’re gone, completely, because she’s got you—every inch, every thought, every desperate fucking heartbeat.

The rain’s still drumming outside, but it’s nothing compared to the pulse pounding in your ears. She leans in closer, her breath hot against your skin, and you tense, every muscle coiled tight, waiting for her to make her move.

“Fuck, babe, look at you,” she says, her eyes flicking up to meet yours for a second before dropping back down to your cock. “This thing’s as big as I remember. Thick too—goddamn perfect.” She licks her lips, slow and deliberate, and you feel it like a jolt, your hips twitching involuntarily. She notices, and her smirk widens. “Missed me that bad, huh?”

“Yeah,” you mutter, voice scraped raw, hands gripping the couch cushions because if you don’t hold onto something, you’re gonna grab her and fuck her mouth yourself. “Missed your mouth on me. Been too fucking long.”

She hums, pleased, and her fingers finally wrap around you—loose at first, just sliding up the length of your shaft, her thumb brushing the tip where you’re already leaking. “Missed this too,” she says, almost to herself, her grip tightening as she gives you a slow, teasing stroke. “Love how you feel in my hand. So heavy. Bet you’ve been dying for me to suck you off.”

“Fuck yeah,” you groan, head tipping back against the couch for a second before you force it forward again—you’re not missing a damn thing. “Please, Yujin. Need it.”

She chuckles, low and dirty, and leans in, her lips brushing the head of your cock, just enough to smear the precum across them. “So polite when you’re desperate,” she teases, then sticks her tongue out, flattening it against the tip, licking slow and filthy. Your whole body jerks, a curse slipping out under your breath, and she grins like she’s won something. “Tastes good,” she murmurs, then drags her tongue down the side, tracing a vein, taking her sweet time.

You’re shaking now, barely holding it together, and she knows it—loves it. “Shit, Yujin, stop fucking around,” you grit out, voice tight, hips shifting toward her mouth. “Suck it already.”

“Bossy,” she mutters, but she’s still smiling, those dimples flashing as she opens her mouth and finally—finally—takes you in. Her lips wrap around the head, tight and wet, and she slides down slow, sucking just enough to make your head spin. You groan loud, guttural, your hands flexing on the couch because you want to grab her hair, shove her down further, but you let her set the pace.

“Fuck,” you hiss, watching her—her cheeks hollow out as she pulls back, spit pooling at the corners of her mouth, then she sinks down again, deeper this time, taking half of you. Her tongue’s working the whole time, swirling around the tip when she pulls up, pressing flat against you when she goes down. She’s so fucking good at this—always has been—and you’ve missed it like hell, the way she makes you feel like you’re the only thing that matters.

“Mmm,” she hums against you, the vibration shooting straight up your spine, and your dick twitches in her mouth. She feels it, pulls off just enough to talk, her hand stroking you slow and slick. “God, I love this cock,” she says, voice raw, eyes locked on yours as she drags her tongue up the underside, sloppy and shameless. “So fucking big, fills my mouth just right.” She dives back in, sucking harder now, her head bobbing slow and steady, and you’re unraveling, piece by piece.

“Shit, babe,” you groan, head tipping back again, but you can’t take your eyes off her for long—watching her lips stretch around you, her tongue flicking every time she pulls up. “You’re so fucking good—missed this so much.” Your hips buck a little, chasing her mouth, and she moans around you, the sound filthy and perfect.

She pulls off with a wet pop, spit trailing from her mouth to your cock, and she grins, wiping her chin with the back of her hand. “Yeah? Missed me sucking you off? Bet no one else comes close, huh?” Her hand keeps moving, jerking you slow and tight, and you shake your head, breathless.

“No one,” you pant, “not even fucking close. You’re… fuck, you’re everything.”

Her eyes light up at that, all smug and satisfied, and she leans down again, kissing the tip like it’s a tease before taking you back in. This time she goes deeper, throat relaxing as she slides down, down, until her nose is damn near brushing your pelvis. You curse loud, hips jerking up, and she takes it—lets you hit the back of her throat, gagging just a little before pulling back, eyes watering but still grinning.

“Goddamn, Yujin,” you rasp, hands finally giving in, sliding into her hair, not pushing, just holding. “You’re gonna kill me.”

She pulls off again, gasping a little, spit dripping down her chin, and her hand’s still working you, slick and fast now. “Good,” she says, voice wrecked, “then you’ll die happy, babe.” She dives back in, sucking hard and sloppy, her tongue all over you, and you’re barely holding it together, and she knows it, feeding off the way you’re falling apart under her touch. Then she shifts, slow and deliberate, sliding her mouth lower, and your brain short-circuits when you realize where she’s going.

“Fuck, Yujin—” you start, but it cuts off into a groan as her lips brush your balls, heavy and tight, aching from how worked up she’s got you. She doesn’t hesitate—just dives in, sucking one into her mouth, warm and wet, her tongue rolling over it like she’s savoring every second. Her hand’s still wrapped around your cock, stroking you steady and firm, and the combo’s fucking lethal. Your hips jerk up, involuntary, and you feel her moan against you, the vibration hitting you like a shockwave.

“Goddamn, babe,” she murmurs, pulling back just enough to talk, her voice muffled against your skin. “These are so full—been saving up for me, huh?” She switches to the other one, sucking harder now, her tongue flicking and teasing, and you’re losing it, hands gripping the couch cushions so tight your knuckles are white.

“Mommy,” you groan, the word slipping out before you can stop it, raw and desperate, and she freezes for a split second, like it’s flipped a switch in her. Then she pulls off your balls with a wet pop, eyes snapping up to yours, dark and hungry.

“Fuck, say that again,” she demands, her hand pumping your cock faster now, slick with spit and precum. “Call me that again, babe.”

“Mommy,” you mutter, voice wrecked, and she moans, low and filthy, like it’s the hottest thing she’s ever heard. She leans back in, sucking your balls again, her tongue working them over with this skillful precision that’s got you shaking. She’s relentless—alternating between them, pulling one into her mouth, then the other, her lips stretching around you, her cheeks hollowing out as she sucks. All the while, her hand’s jerking you off, tight and steady, and you’re a mess of moans and curses, barely able to think straight.

“Shit—fuck, mommy, you’re so good,” you pant, head tipping back, your whole body tensing as she works you over. Her free hand slides up your thigh, squeezing, nails digging in just enough to sting, and it’s like she’s claiming every inch of you—mouth on your balls, hand on your cock, owning you completely.

She pulls back again, letting your balls slip out of her mouth, wet and messy, a string of spit connecting her lips to you before it snaps. She wipes her chin with the back of her hand, grinning like a goddamn demon. “Taste so fucking good,” she says, voice rough, her eyes locked on yours as she gives your cock a slow, teasing stroke. “Been dreaming about this—getting my mouth on you again. You’re a fucking wreck for me, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” you gasp, chest heaving, dick twitching in her grip. “Can’t—fuck, can’t get enough of you.” Your hands slide into her hair now, shaky and desperate, but you don’t push—she’s in control, and you both know it.

She hums, satisfied, and gives your balls one last lick—long and slow, dragging her tongue up from the base to the tip of your cock like she’s savoring you. You shudder, a loud “shit” slipping out, and she chuckles, dark and smug, before climbing to her feet. You’re panting, flushed and sweaty, dick glistening from her spit, and she’s standing there like she’s just getting started.

“C’mon,” she says, voice low and commanding, holding out her hand. “Bedroom. Now. We’re done messing around on this couch—I wanna really fuck you up.” Her eyes flick over you, taking in how wrecked you already are, and her smirk turns sharp, dangerous. “Gonna have some real fun with you, babe.”

You’re on your feet before you even realize it, grabbing her hand, letting her pull you up. Your legs feel like jelly, dick still painfully hard, swinging free as you stumble after her. “Fuck, Yujin,” you mutter, half-dazed, watching her hips sway as she leads you down the hall, jeans hugging her ass just right. “You’re really killing me.”

“Good,” she throws back over her shoulder, not even turning around. “That’s the plan. You’re mine tonight—gonna make sure you don’t forget it.” She pushes open the bedroom door and tugs you inside, kicking the door shut behind you, and turns to face you, eyes glinting with something wild.

“Get on the bed,” she says, and it’s not a request—it’s a order. Your heart’s pounding, dick throbbing, and you’re so hungry for her you can taste it, feel it in every shaky breath. You’re fucked, completely, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You’re sitting on the edge of the bed, still buzzing from her mouth on you, when Yujin steps back, hands on her hips, eyes locked on yours like she’s about to put on a damn show. The room’s dim, just the faint glow from the streetlights slipping through the blinds, but it’s enough to watch her every move. She kicks off her boots first, casual and quick, then her hands go to the button of her jeans. You’re mesmerized, can’t look away as she pops it open, sliding the zipper down slow—teasing, like she knows exactly what she’s doing to you.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath as she peels the jeans off, inch by inch, the denim hugging her hips before dropping down her legs. She steps out of them, kicking them aside, and there she is—just in her panties, black and simple but barely holding back what’s underneath. Her thighs catch your eye first—thick, juicy, the kind of curves you want to sink your teeth into. They flex slightly as she shifts her weight, and your dick twitches, already rock-hard from the sight alone.

She hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her panties, smirking when she catches you staring. “You like?” she asks, voice low and cocky, dragging them down slow, letting the fabric roll over her hips, then her thighs, until they hit the floor. And fuck—there’s her pussy, glistening in the low light, already wet like she’s been thinking about this as much as you have. She’s got this neat little patch of hair, lightly trimmed, a perfect pattern that draws your eye right to her, and you’re practically drooling.

She steps closer, slow and deliberate, hips swaying just enough to fuck with your head. You’re still sitting there, hands twitching, when she stops right in front of you, close enough that you can feel the heat rolling off her. Your hands move on instinct, sliding up to her waist, gripping her soft skin, and you pull her in, pressing your lips to her tummy. It’s warm, smooth, and you kiss it slow, dragging your mouth over her, tasting her faintly—salt and that addictive edge that’s all her.

“Mm, good boy,” she murmurs, voice dripping with that dom energy she wears like a second skin. Her hand slides into your hair, stroking it, fingers curling just enough to tug lightly. “You’re already so fucking gone for me, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” you breathe against her skin, voice rough, trailing more kisses down her stomach, slow and hungry. You’re standing now, can’t stay still anymore, your hands roaming up her sides as your lips move lower, chasing that scent—that fucking pull—drawing you in like a drug. You pause just above her pussy, nose brushing the trimmed hair, and inhale deep. It’s musky, sweet, so goddamn addictive you feel lightheaded. “Fuck, I missed this,” you groan, almost to yourself, your mouth watering. “Missed you.”

She laughs, low and smug, her hand tightening in your hair. “Yeah? Then stop teasing and eat my pussy, babe. Show me how much you missed it.” It’s a command, sharp and final, and it’s all you need to hear.

You drop to your knees, hands sliding down to grip her thighs—thick and solid under your palms—and pull her closer. She spreads her legs a little, giving you room, and you dive in, no hesitation. Your tongue drags up her slit first, slow and deliberate, tasting her—wet and slick, already dripping for you. She’s tangy, hot, and you groan against her, the sound vibrating through her as you flick your tongue over her clit.

“Fuck, that’s it,” she hisses, her hand shoving your face tighter against her. “Right there—don’t you dare stop.” Her hips roll forward, grinding against your mouth, and you’re all in now, licking and sucking like you’re starving. You swirl your tongue around her clit, teasing it, then suck it hard, letting your teeth graze just enough to make her gasp. Her thighs tremble under your hands, and you squeeze them, pulling her closer, burying yourself in her.

“Goddamn, you’re so fucking good at this,” she pants, voice breaking a little, her dom edge slipping as she starts to unravel. “Missed that mouth—shit, babe, keep going.” Her hips buck harder, and you’re drowning in her—her taste, her heat, the way she’s soaking your chin. You slide a hand up, fingers brushing her entrance, but you don’t push in yet—just tease, letting her feel it.

She moans loud, shameless, her grip in your hair turning rough. “Fuck, don’t play with me—eat me like you mean it.” You do—tongue plunging deeper, licking up every drop, sucking her clit until she’s shaking. Her pussy’s pulsing, slick and swollen, and you’re obsessed—drinking her in, feeling her thighs clamp around your head. “Yeah, just like that—my good fucking boy,” she growls, and it hits you right in the chest, fueling this desperate need to please her.

You pull back for a second, gasping for air, lips and chin dripping. “You taste so fucking good,” you mutter, raw and wrecked, diving back in before she can even respond. You’re licking harder now, sloppier, tongue everywhere—her clit, her lips, dipping inside just to feel her clench. She’s cursing, moaning, starting to ride your face, and you let her, hands gripping her ass now, guiding her as she bucks against you.

Your tongue’s working overtime, lapping up every bit of her, and she’s so fucking wet it’s obscene—her juices coating your lips, your chin, sliding down your neck. You groan into her, the sound muffled against her skin, and it’s like you’re drunk on her, hunger spiking with every taste.

“Fuck, babe, you’re killing me,” she mutters, voice rough and shaky, but she’s not pulling away—she’s leaning into it, giving you more. She shifts, lifting one leg and planting her foot on the bed, spreading herself wide open. Her pussy’s glistening, creamy now, this thick, delicious slick starting to leak out, and it’s driving you wild. You can see it—white and sticky, clinging to her folds—and you dive in deeper, tongue plunging inside her, chasing it like it’s your fucking lifeline.

“Shit—oh my god,” she gasps, her hand tightening in your hair, shoving your face harder against her. “Yeah, just like that—get in there, fuck.” Her hips roll, grinding against your mouth, and you’re surrounded by her—her heat, her scent, that addictive cream coating your tongue as you dig it in, scooping it out. It’s filthy, messy, and you’re loving every second, sucking hard, letting it smear across your lips as you tongue-fuck her with everything you’ve got.

She’s melting, you can feel it—her thighs trembling, her breath hitching in these sharp little bursts. “You’re so fucking hungry for me,” she moans, half-laughing, half-wrecked, her leg wobbling on the bed as she opens up even more. “Can’t get enough of my pussy, huh? Look at you, drowning in it.” You groan again, louder, pressing your face so deep into her you can barely breathe, licking up that creamy slick like it’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted—because it is.

You squeeze her ass harder, pulling her closer, fingers sinking into her thick flesh as you keep going, relentless. Her pussy’s pulsing around your tongue, soaking you, and you’re a fucking mess—face shiny, lips swollen, chin drenched. You slide your tongue out, dragging it up to her clit, sucking it hard, then dipping back down to thrust inside her again, catching more of that cream. It’s coating your mouth now, sticky and sweet, and you’re growling against her, primal, desperate, completely lost in her.

“Fuck, don’t stop—don’t you fucking stop,” she pants, voice breaking, her hips bucking harder, practically riding your face. “You’re gonna make me—shit—” She cuts off, moaning loud, her whole body tensing, and you double down, tongue plunging deep, sucking her inner walls, nose grinding against her clit. Her pussy’s so creamy now it’s spilling out, dripping down your chin, and you’re licking it up, swallowing it, starving for every drop.

She’s shaking hard, leg slipping a little on the bed, but you hold her steady, keeping her open as you push her over the edge. “C’mon, mommy, cum for me,” you mumble into her, voice muffled, needy, and that’s it—she snaps. Her hips jerk, a loud, ragged “Fuck!” ripping out of her as she cums, hard and messy. Her pussy clenches around your tongue, flooding you with more of that thick cream, and you’re drinking it, lapping it up through her shakes, her gasps, her nails digging into your scalp. She’s trembling, falling apart, and you don’t stop—sucking, licking, letting her ride it out until she’s boneless, breathless.

You finally pull back, face drenched—her juices glistening on your mouth, your chin, even your nose. You’re a fucking sight, shiny and wrecked, and she looks down at you, chest heaving, eyes dark and satisfied. She grabs your face, rough but slow, and leans in, tongue darting out to lick across your lips, then your chin, tasting herself on you. It’s filthy, hot, and you just sit there, dazed, letting her do it.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” she murmurs, voice low and raw, dragging her tongue up one last time before kissing you hard, sloppy, her taste all over both of you. She pulls back, smirking, wiping her thumb across your wet mouth. “Such a good boy for me—look at you, all shiny and fucked out from eating my pussy. Did so good, babe.”

You grin, still catching your breath, hands still on her thighs, feeling the heat of her skin. “Anything for you,” you say, and her smirk softens just a little, that dom edge giving way to something softer, something proud. She ruffles your hair, still panting, and you’re sitting there, heart hammering, completely fucking gone for her.

She stands up, all curves and confidence, and nods toward the bed. “C’mon, babe,” she says, voice low and commanding, like she’s summoning you. “Get over here. Time to give you what you deserve.”

Your legs feel like rubber, but you’re up fast, stumbling after her like a fucking puppy, too wrecked to play it cool. She’s already climbing onto the bed, and you follow, heart pounding, dick still hard and aching from everything she’s already done to you. She turns, lying back against the pillows, then pats the spot beneath her, eyes glinting with that dom energy that’s got you hooked. “Lie down,” she orders, and you do—no hesitation, flat on your back, staring up at her like she’s a goddamn goddess.

She swings a leg over you, straddling your chest first, and fuck, the view—her thighs framing your face, her pussy still glistening, her pierced nipples catching the light. She slides down slow, deliberate, until she’s hovering over you, her weight pressing you into the mattress. “This is how it should be,” she says, voice dropping, dark and possessive. “You under me, obeying me, worshiping me like the good boy you are. That’s what you want, right?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, hands twitching at your sides, dying to touch her. “Fuck yeah, Yujin. Always.” Your voice is shaky, raw, and she smirks, loving how gone you are—how you’re hers without even trying.

“Go ahead then,” she murmurs, leaning down so her lips brush your ear, her hair tickling your face. “Touch me. Show me how much you’ve missed this.” Your hands move fast, sliding up her thighs, feeling the thick, warm muscle under your palms, then higher, over her hips, her waist, that soft tummy you kissed earlier. She’s solid and real, every inch of her screaming power, and you’re just… lost in it, fingers roaming like you’re trying to memorize her all over again.

She shifts, grabbing your cock with one hand—firm, no bullshit—and you groan, hips jerking up at the contact. “Easy,” she warns, smirking down at you as she lines you up, the tip brushing her pussy, wet and hot and so fucking close. “You’re gonna take what I give you, yeah? No rushing me.”

“Yes, mommy,” you mutter, half-dazed, and her eyes flash, that word lighting her up. She sinks down then, slow and deliberate, and you both sigh—her pussy’s tight, slick, swallowing you inch by inch like it’s meant to. You’re stretching her out, and she’s gripping you so good it’s like she’s pulling you apart. “Fuck,” you gasp, hands clutching her hips now, digging in, and she moans, low and sweet, settling all the way down until you’re buried deep.

“Goddamn, you’re big,” she mutters, almost to herself, adjusting her hips a little, and you feel her clench around you, hot and wet and perfect. “Missed this cock—missed you.” She leans forward, hands braced on your chest, and you still can’t believe it—your Yujin, back on top of you, fucking owning you like this. Her hair falls over her face, and you brush it back, needing to see her, those sharp eyes, that cocky little grin.

She starts moving then, slow at first, rolling her hips like she’s testing you, seeing how long you can last under her. “Look at you,” she says, voice dripping with control, “just lying there, taking it like a good boy. You’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?” She lifts up, then drops back down, harder this time, and you groan loud, hands sliding to her ass, squeezing, trying to pull her in deeper.

“Anything,” you pant, staring up at her, completely fucking surrendered. “You’ve got me—fuck, you’ve always had me.” She’s riding you now, steady and relentless, her pussy gripping you so tight it’s almost too much, cream leaking out, smearing your hips as she moves. Her thighs flex, muscles working, and you’re just holding on, letting her set the pace, letting her use you.

“That’s right,” she growls, leaning down closer, her voice rough against your ear. “You’re mine—my good little boy, letting me fuck you like this. No one else gets this, you hear me? Just me.” She speeds up, slamming down harder, and you’re a mess—moaning, hips bucking up to meet her, but she’s in charge, pinning you down with her weight, her hands digging into your shoulders.

“Fuck, Yujin—mommy, please,” you whimper, and she grins, wild and triumphant, loving how you’re breaking under her. She straightens up, sitting back, bouncing now, her breasts swaying with every thrust, those piercings glinting, and you’re just watching, worshiping, hands roaming her body—her thighs, her ass, her tummy—anywhere you can reach.

“Keep saying it,” she demands, voice sharp, hips grinding down, working your cock so deep you’re seeing stars. “Call me that again—tell me who you belong to.”

“Mommy,” you moan, hands gripping her ass tighter, feeling her clench around you, wet and filthy and so fucking good. “I belong to you—only you. Fuck, Yujin, I’m yours.”

“Damn right,” she snarls, and she’s moving faster now, slamming down onto you, the bed creaking, her pussy soaking you, dripping down your thighs. “Gonna fuck you ‘til you can’t think straight—‘til all you know is me.” She’s relentless, dominant, and you’re surrendering completely, lost in her rhythm, in her heat, in the way she’s taking you apart piece by piece. You’re hers, and she’s proving it, and all you can do is moan and hold on as she rides you into oblivion.

Yujin’s still riding you, hips slamming down with that steady, punishing rhythm that’s got your whole body buzzing, the bedframe creaking like it’s about to give out. She’s in total control, her pussy gripping you tight, wet and hot, cream dripping down your cock, pooling on your hips. You’re a fucking wreck beneath her—moaning, hands roaming her body, completely surrendered to the way she’s owning you. Then she shifts, leaning forward, her face hovering just above yours, close enough that you can feel her breath on your lips.

Her eyes lock onto yours, dark and commanding, and one hand slides up your chest to your throat. She wraps her fingers around your neck—not hard, but firm enough to make your pulse jump under her grip. “Open your mouth,” she orders, voice low and sharp, like she’s daring you to disobey. You don’t even think about it—your lips part fast, jaw slack, ready for whatever she’s got.

She smirks, pleased, and leans in closer, tilting her head just so. Then she lets it happen—spit pooling on her tongue before she lets it drip, slow and deliberate, right into your waiting mouth. It’s warm, slick, landing on your tongue, and you shudder, tasting her, feeling it slide down your throat as you swallow. It’s filthy, raw, and it’s got your dick throbbing even harder inside her. Before you can even process it, she crashes her lips onto yours, kissing you hard and messy—tongue diving in, mixing her spit with yours, her teeth grazing your lip like she’s claiming you all over again.

She doesn’t stop riding you—not for a second—hips rolling, grinding, keeping you pinned beneath her as her mouth moves against yours. You’re drowning in it—her taste, her heat, the way she’s squeezing your neck just enough to make your head spin. Your hands slide up her body, desperate for more, landing on her breasts. You squeeze, fingers sinking into the soft flesh, and she gasps into your mouth, a sharp, sweet moan breaking free. Those piercings make her so damn sensitive, and you can feel it—the way her body reacts, the hitch in her breath, the way her pussy clenches tighter around you.

“Fuck, babe,” she mutters against your lips, pulling back just enough to look at you, her hand still on your throat, thumb brushing your jaw. “You’re so fucking good—playing with my tits like that.” She’s still moving, hips circling, riding you deep, and you squeeze again, harder this time, rolling your thumbs over her nipples, tugging lightly at the piercings. She moans again, louder, sweeter, her dom edge cracking just a little as the sensitivity hits her full force.

“Shit, that feels—mmph—so good,” she groans, head tipping back for a second, exposing her neck as she rides you, her hand loosening on your throat but still resting there, keeping you in check. You’re obsessed—hands kneading her breasts, feeling the weight of them, the way they bounce with every thrust she makes. Her nipples are hard against your palms, the piercings cool and firm, and you pinch them lightly, just to hear that sound again—that soft, desperate moan that slips out of her.

“You like that, huh?” you rasp, voice hoarse, watching her unravel a little, your hands working her over as she fucks you. “So sensitive, mommy—fuck, you’re so hot.”

“Don’t get cocky,” she snaps, but it’s breathy, half-lost in the pleasure, and she squeezes your neck again, leaning down to kiss you rough, shutting you up. Her tongue’s aggressive, licking into your mouth, tasting her own spit still lingering there, and you groan, meeting her halfway, kissing her back like you’re starving for it. All the while, she’s riding you hard, pussy soaking you, tight and slick, driving you insane—but you’re not cumming yet, not until she says so. She’s got you locked down, and you’re loving every fucking second of it.

You keep playing with her breasts, squeezing, teasing, rolling her nipples between your fingers, and she’s melting into it—moaning into your mouth, her hips stuttering just a little as the sensitivity catches her off guard again. “Fuck—babe, you’re gonna make me lose it,” she gasps, pulling back, her lips swollen, eyes dark and wild. “Keep touching me like that—don’t stop.”

“Never,” you mutter, hands roaming her chest, obsessed with how she feels—soft and heavy, the piercings adding this edge that’s got you hooked. She’s still in charge, still dominating you, but you can feel her slipping, her moans getting louder, her pussy fluttering around your cock with every move. You’re surrendered, completely—hands worshiping her, body pinned beneath her, just taking it, letting her ride you into the fucking ground.

Yujin’s riding you like she’s lost her damn mind, hips snapping down faster now, harder, like she’s chasing something she can’t quite reach. The bed’s groaning under the pressure, sheets tangled around your legs, and the room’s thick with the smell of sex—sweat, her, you. She’s a fucking vision above you, hair wild, skin flushed, those pierced nipples bouncing with every thrust. Her pussy’s soaked, gripping you tight, slick and creamy, and you’re so deep inside her it’s like she’s pulling you in, refusing to let go.

She leans forward, her breath hot against your face, and you catch the shift—her dom edge is cracking, slipping into something rawer, needier. “Fuck, babe,” she pants, voice shaky, her hand sliding from your neck to brace against your chest. “You feel so fucking good—don’t stop touching me.” Her thighs are trembling, muscles flexing as she grinds down, and you can feel her getting close, that desperate edge creeping in.

You don’t waste a second—your mouth latches onto her breast, lips closing around her nipple, the cool metal of her piercing pressing against your tongue. You suck hard, flicking it with the tip, and she gasps, loud and sharp, her whole body jerking against you. “Shit—yes, like that,” she moans, her voice breaking, hips stuttering as she rides you even faster. The sensitivity’s killing her, you can tell—those piercings amplifying every move, every graze of your teeth, and she’s losing it, moaning louder, more demanding, like she can’t get enough.

“Goddamn, you’re so fucking sensitive,” you mutter against her skin, switching to the other breast, sucking just as hard, your hand squeezing the one you left behind. She whimpers, sweet and needy, and it’s got you reeling—your dick throbs inside her, the heat and pressure building fast. Her pussy’s squeezing you so nice, wet and tight, and you’re right on the edge, barely holding it together.

“Fuck—I’m close,” she gasps, leaning down, her forehead pressing against yours, her eyes half-lidded and wild. “You’re close too, huh? I can feel it—your cock’s fucking pulsing.” She’s panting now, her breath hitching with every thrust, and you nod, words caught in your throat because yeah, you’re right there with her, teetering on the brink.

“Cum with me,” she says, voice dropping low, almost a growl, her hips slamming down mercilessly. “Want you to cum inside me—give me a creampie, babe. Fill me up.” And fuck, that’s hot—your ex never let you, always made you pull out, but Yujin? She’s begging for it, demanding it, and it’s driving you insane. “You want that?” she asks, smirking even as she’s falling apart. “Wanna pump me full?”

“Hell yeah,” you groan, hands gripping her hips now, pulling her down harder, your voice rough and desperate. “Fuck, Yujin, I’d give you anything—gonna fill you up so good.” She moans at that, loud and needy, her pussy clamping down on you like a vice, and you know it’s coming—both of you, barreling toward it together.

She’s relentless now, riding you fast, wild, her hips rolling and grinding like she’s trying to milk you dry. “Come on, babe—cum for mommy,” she pants, voice strained, her nails digging into your chest. “Give it to me—now.” Her pussy’s squeezing you so tight it’s almost painful, wet and hot and pulsing, and you can’t hold back anymore—your whole body locks up, a hoarse “Fuck!” ripping out of you as you cum, hard and deep inside her.

The second she feels it—your hot, thick cum spilling into her—she’s done for. “Shit—yes!” she cries, her voice breaking into this gorgeous, desperate moan as she cums too, her pussy clenching around you, sucking you in deeper. You can feel it—the way your load pumps into her, the way her walls flutter around you, taking it all, and it’s fucking beautiful. She keeps riding you, shaking, her hips jerking as the orgasm rips through her, and you’re gasping, overwhelmed, watching her fall apart on top of you.

“Fuck, Yujin,” you mutter, voice wrecked, hands sliding up to her waist as she slows, still rocking against you, milking every last drop. Her pussy’s dripping now, a mix of her cream and your cum leaking out, smearing across your hips, and she’s trembling, chest heaving, those sweet little moans spilling from her lips as she rides out the aftershocks.

She collapses onto you, heavy and warm, her body pressing you into the mattress, her head resting on your shoulder. You’re both panting, sweaty, and you can feel her heartbeat against your chest, fast and wild like yours. Your hands roam her back, tracing the curve of her spine, and you’re still inside her, still hard, her pussy pulsing faintly around you. For a minute, it’s just that—the quiet, the closeness, the rain tapping the window—and then you open your mouth, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

“I love you,” you say, soft and raw. It’s not planned, just spills out, and you feel it—how much you mean it, how much she’s got you twisted up inside.

She lifts her head, slow, looking at you with those dark, sharp eyes, and for a second you think maybe you fucked up, said too much. But then she smiles—those dimples popping, soft and real—and it’s like a weight lifts off you. “I love you too,” she says, voice quiet but steady, leaning down to kiss you, slow and deep, her lips lingering against yours. “You’re mine, you know that? All fucking mine.”

It’s intense—romantic and possessive all at once, and it hits you hard, makes your chest tighten. “Yeah,” you mutter, hands tightening on her hips, pulling her closer even though she’s already plastered against you. “Yours. Always have been.” And it’s true—she’s got you wrapped around her finger, always did, and the idea that a girl like her, this fucking goddess, wants you? It’s insane, a damn miracle, and drives you up the wall.

Then she shifts, slow and deliberate, lifting herself off you with a wet, filthy sound as your cock slips free, still hard, glistening with her cum and yours. She glances down at it, smirking like she’s proud of the mess she’s made, then slides off the bed, standing tall and beckoning you with a lazy flick of her hand.

“C’mon, babe,” she says, voice hoarse but dripping with that dom edge, her dimples flashing as she grins. “Get up. We’re not done—got something else for you.” Her thighs flex as she moves, slick and shiny from the orgasm, and you’re already stumbling out of bed after her, legs shaky but too fucking hooked to care.

She turns, facing you, and steps close—real close—her chest brushing yours, her breath hot on your neck. Then she shifts, spinning around so her back’s to you, ass pressing against your hips, and fuck, the view—those long, juicy thighs, thick and glistening, still wet from everything you just did. She looks over her shoulder, smirking, and reaches back, grabbing your cock with one hand, guiding it right between her legs. “Stand still,” she murmurs, voice low and teasing, as she closes her thighs around you, trapping you there.

“Shit,” you groan, hands flying to her hips on instinct, feeling the soft, warm flesh squeeze your dick tight. Her thighs are soaked—your cum, hers, all mixed together, slick and messy—and it’s fucking perfect. She starts moving, slow and sensual, sliding her thighs back and forth, and it’s like nothing else—soft, juicy, gripping you just right. “Yujin—fuck, that feels so good,” you mutter, voice rough, already half-lost in it.

“Yeah?” she says, glancing back, her voice dripping with dirty satisfaction. “You like this, huh? My thighs fucking you—look at you, babe, already a mess again.” She tightens them, squeezing harder, and you hiss, hips twitching as the pressure hits just right. Her thighs are long, wrapping you up completely, and the way they slide, slow and deliberate, wet and warm, it’s got your head spinning.

“Goddamn, you’re unreal,” you pant, hands sliding down to grip her hips tighter, feeling the muscle flex under your fingers as she works you over. “Missed these thighs—fuck, they’re so soft, so juicy.” You’re babbling now, too caught up to care, and she laughs, low and smug, loving how you’re falling apart.

“Thought you’d like it,” she says, voice husky, picking up the pace just a little, her thighs gliding over your cock, slick and tight. “Gonna keep you right here, babe—nice and cozy between mommy’s legs. You love that, don’t you? Trapped like my good little boy.” Her words are filthy, possessive, and it’s lighting you up, every syllable sinking into you, making you harder, needier.

“Fuck yeah,” you groan, leaning into her, your chest pressing against her back, hands roaming her sides, her ass, anywhere you can reach. “Love it—love you, Yujin. You’re fucking killing me.” Your dick’s throbbing, slick with her juices, and the way she’s got you locked between her thighs, it’s slow torture—sensual as hell, every slide dragging you closer to the edge but not quite there.

She tilts her head back, resting it against your shoulder, and you can feel her smirk, feel the heat of her skin against yours. “Poor thing,” she teases, voice all mock sympathy as she squeezes her thighs again, making you curse under your breath. “Can’t get enough of me, can you? Bet you’d stay like this all night if I let you—fucking my thighs ‘til you’re begging.”

“Please,” you mutter, half-joking, half-desperate, your hands digging into her hips, pulling her back so your cock slides deeper between her legs. “I’d fucking beg for it—you know I would.” She’s got you so wound up, the softness of her thighs, the wetness still clinging to them, it’s unreal, and you’re losing yourself in it, in her.

“Dirty boy,” she murmurs, voice low and pleased, her thighs tightening again as she moves, slow and deliberate, dragging it out. “Look at us—both dripping, all messy from earlier, and you’re still so fucking hard for me. You’re obsessed, babe—fucking obsessed with your mommy.” She rolls her hips just a little, enough to make her thighs shift, and you moan, loud and shameless, because yeah, she’s right—you are.

“Fuck, Yujin—can’t help it,” you say, voice wrecked, leaning forward to kiss her neck, tasting the salt of her sweat. “You’re so hot—so fucking perfect. These thighs—shit, I’d die right here.” Your hands slide up, cupping her ass, squeezing, and she sighs, soft and sweet, like she’s enjoying it just as much.

“Mm, keep talking,” she says, voice dipping lower, her thighs sliding faster now, still tight, still wet, the friction building slow and steady. “Tell me how much you love it—how much you love me.” She’s demanding, controlling, and you’re giving in, every word spilling out raw and unfiltered.

“Love you so fucking much,” you pant, hands roaming her body, fingers sinking into her flesh as she works you over. “Love these thighs—love how they feel, how they’re squeezing me. Love your pussy, your ass, every fucking inch of you. You’re a goddess, Yujin—my goddess. Can’t believe you’re mine.” Your lips brush her shoulder, her neck, needy little kisses as your cock throbs between her legs.

She moans, soft and low, her thighs trembling slightly as she keeps going, the sound of her skin against yours wet and filthy. “Fuck, babe—that’s it,” she says, voice breaking a little, her dom edge softening into something needy. “Keep telling me—keep worshiping me. You’re so good at it—my perfect boy.” She tightens her thighs again, slowing down just to tease, and you whimper, hips jerking, desperate for more.

“Shit, you’re amazing,” you mutter, voice hoarse, hands sliding up to her waist, pulling her back against you as she moves. “So fucking sexy—so strong. Missed this—missed you. You’ve got me so fucked up, Yujin—can’t think about anything else.” Your dick’s sliding between her thighs, slow and sensual, and it’s driving you insane, the softness, the warmth, the way she’s got you locked in.

“Good,” she growls, picking up the pace a little, her thighs flexing as she squeezes you tighter. “That’s how it should be—you thinking about me, needing me. No one else gets this—gets you—like I do. You’re mine, babe—fucking mine.”

“Yeah—yours,” you gasp, hands gripping her harder, feeling the tension building, your cock throbbing with every slide. “Always yours—fuck, Yujin, I’d do anything for you.” She’s got you so close, the slow drag of her thighs, the wetness still clinging to her skin, it’s all too much, but you don’t want it to end—you want to stay here, wrapped up in her, forever.

She turns her head slightly, lips brushing your jaw, her breath hot and uneven. “You’re so fucking cute when you’re wrecked like this,” she murmurs, voice soft but still commanding. “All needy and hard for me—bet you’d cum right now if I told you to, huh?”

“Fuck, yeah,” you groan, hips twitching, your dick pulsing between her thighs as she keeps that tight, sensual grip. “Just say it—please, mommy, tell me.” You’re begging now, shameless, and she laughs, low and dirty, loving how you’re breaking under her.

“Not yet,” she says, voice firm, slowing her movements just enough to keep you on the edge. “Gonna make you wait—gonna make you earn it. You’re gonna cum when I say, and not a fucking second before.” Her thighs squeeze again, and you moan, loud and ragged, your hands sliding up to her back, clutching her like she’s the only thing keeping you upright.

“Shit—please, Yujin,” you mutter, voice cracking, your whole body trembling as she keeps you there, teetering. “You’re so fucking good—so perfect. Love you—fuck, I love you so much.” It’s spilling out, raw and desperate, and she hums, pleased, her thighs sliding slow and deliberate, keeping you locked in that sweet, torturous rhythm.

“Love you too, babe,” she whispers, turning her head to kiss you, slow and deep, her tongue teasing yours as she keeps fucking you with her thighs. “My good boy—my perfect little toy. Gonna take care of you—gonna give you everything.”

Yujin’s got you pinned in this tight, sensual cocoon of her thighs, and it’s like she’s crafted this moment just to drive you fucking insane. Your dick’s rubbing right up against her pussy now—not inside, just grazing her lips, teasing her clit with every pass—and she’s moaning, soft and low, this needy little sound that’s got your head spinning. The wetness of her, the heat, it’s all mixing with your cum from before, dripping down between her thighs, making everything so goddamn slippery and filthy. You’re a mess, hands shaking, and they fly up to her breasts on instinct, fingers sinking into that soft, sensitive flesh.

“Fuck, babe,” she groans, her voice rough and thick with pleasure as you squeeze her tits, thumbs brushing over those pierced nipples that make her whole body jolt. “Yeah—keep doing that, keep touching me.” Her thighs tighten even more, squeezing your cock harder, and you can feel her pussy lips parting slightly, your shaft sliding right along her slit, catching every bit of her slickness. She’s dripping again—her arousal mixing with the cum leaking out of you—and it’s driving you wild, the way she’s grinding against you, her moans syncing up with every slow, sensual drag.

Your hands knead her breasts, rougher now, pinching those sensitive nipples just to hear her gasp, and she’s losing it—her dom edge softening into something raw and desperate. “Shit—your cock feels so good,” she mutters, head tilting back against your shoulder, her hair sticking to your sweaty skin. “Rubbing me just right—fuck, I could cum like this.” She speeds up, thighs working you faster, wet and messy, and you’re groaning, hips bucking up to meet her, your dick throbbing so hard it’s almost painful. The friction’s intense, her pussy lips slick and hot, sliding over you, and you’re leaking a lot now—precum oozing out, dripping down her thighs, mixing with everything else. She glances down, sees it, and moans louder, voice breaking into this dirty little laugh.

“Goddamn, babe—look at that,” she says, panting, her thighs squeezing tighter as she watches your cum run down her legs. “Leaking all over me—fucking love that. You’re such a mess for me, huh?” She’s reveling in it, the way you’re losing control, the way she’s got you spilling without even cumming yet, and it’s pushing her harder, her movements getting sloppier, more frantic. “Gonna milk you dry like this—fuck, you’re so hard still.” Her words are raw, filthy, and it’s got you reeling, hands gripping her tits, thumbs rolling over her piercings again just to hear that sweet, needy moan spill out of her.

“Fuck, Yujin—don’t stop,” as your hips jerk, chasing the rhythm she’s setting. She’s moaning too, her pussy quivering against your cock, and you can feel it—she’s close, teetering on the edge just from this teasing, grinding tightjob. But then she shifts, pulling away just when you think she’s about to lose it, and you groan, half in protest, half in desperation. She turns her head, smirking down at you, her eyes dark and wild. “Not yet,” she says, voice hoarse but firm. “We’re switching it up.”

Before you can even process it, she’s sliding off you, your cock slick and shiny from her thighs, still leaking, still aching. She grabs your arm, tugging you gently but with that no-bullshit strength, and you follow, stumbling to the edge of the bed. You sit there, legs spread, chest heaving, and she steps right up between them, turning so her back’s to you again. “Stay right there,” she murmurs, glancing over her shoulder with that cocky little grin, dimples flashing, and you’re nodding, too wrecked to argue.

She grabs your cock, firm and sure, giving it a slow stroke that makes you hiss, your hands flying to her hips. Then she lines you up, her pussy hovering just above you—wet, creamy, glistening—and sinks down, slow and deliberate, taking you in inch by fucking inch. You both sigh, loud and shaky, as she settles onto your lap, her ass pressed tight against your hips, your cock buried deep inside her. “Fuck,” you groan, head tipping back, hands gripping her waist like you’re afraid she’ll vanish again. “You’re—so fucking tight, Yujin.”

“Yeah?” she says, starting to move—small bounces at first, testing you, her pussy squeezing you so good it’s got your eyes rolling back. “I love this cock stretching me out, babe.” She’s still got her back to you, and it’s a goddamn sight—her ass bouncing, her thighs flexing, all that juicy thickness working you over as she rides you reverse. Your hands slide down, cupping her ass, squeezing, and she moans, picking up the pace, slamming down harder now.

“Shit—look at you,” you mutter, voice rough, watching her move, the way her pussy swallows you whole, creamy and dripping, leaving a slick ring around your base. “Riding me like a fucking pro—fuck, you’re so hot.” You’re babbling, too caught up to care, and she loves it—you can tell by the way she moans, louder, needier, her hips rolling as she bounces, driving you deeper with every drop.

“Gonna fuck you senseless,” she gasps, hands bracing on your knees now for leverage, her body rocking back against you, fast and filthy. “My good boy—taking it so well, letting me use you like this.” Her pussy’s gripping you tight, pulsing, and you’re groaning with every thrust, your hands roaming her ass, her thighs, anywhere you can reach. She’s relentless, ass slapping against your hips, the wet sound of her pussy on your cock filling the room, and it’s got you on fire, every nerve screaming for more.

“Fuck, Yujin—harder,” you growl, hands digging into her flesh, pulling her down rougher, and she obliges—just slams onto you, her moans turning into these sweet, broken little cries. “Love this—love you,” you mutter, half-aware, your dick throbbing inside her, leaking more cum now, dripping out with every bounce. She’s feeling it too—her pussy’s quivering, soaking you, and she glances back, smirking even as she’s panting.

“Love me, huh?” she teases, voice breathy, slowing down just enough to grind her hips, dragging your cock inside her slow and deep. “Keep saying it—fucking love hearing it.” She’s got you pinned, emotionally, physically, her pussy squeezing you so tight you’re seeing stars.

“Love you—fuck, I love you so much,” you say, voice hoarse, hands sliding up to her waist, guiding her as she picks up speed again. “You’re everything—fucking everything.” She moans at that, loud and sweet, her pussy clenching, and you’re both a mess—sweaty, sticky, her thighs slick with cum and arousal, your cock leaking inside her, making every thrust wetter, sloppier.

She’s bouncing on you now, harder, faster, like she’s on a fucking mission, her pussy gripping you so tight it’s like she’s trying to wring you out. She’s not slowing down—hell no—she shifts her hand down between her legs, fingers finding her clit, rubbing it in quick, sloppy circles. “Fuck, babe,” she pants, voice high and shaky, her head tipping back so her hair brushes your chest. “Gonna cum—need it so bad—gonna cum all over your cock.” Her desperation’s thick, raw.

She’s wild now, moaning like she’s lost it, her thighs trembling, her pussy soaking you—wet, creamy, dripping down your shaft as she rides you. “Shit—look at me,” she gasps, glancing back over her shoulder, her eyes dark and frantic, those dimples nowhere in sight now—just pure, unfiltered need. “You feel that? How fucking wet I am? All for you—fuck, you drive me insane.” Her fingers are working her clit faster, her moans turning into these sharp, needy little cries, and you’re just holding on, groaning, your dick throbbing inside her, so close but not there yet because she’s got you under her spell, waiting for her to call the shots.

“Goddamn, Yujin,” you mutter, voice rough, hands digging into her hips as she slams down, over and over, her ass jiggling against you, the wet slap of her skin on yours filling the room. “You’re so fucking hot—ride me, fuck, don’t stop.” She’s relentless, her pussy squeezing you tighter with every bounce, her fingers rubbing herself sloppy and fast, and you can feel it—her walls fluttering, her body shaking, she’s right on the edge. “Cum for me,” you growl, hands sliding up to grip her waist, pulling her down harder. “Wanna feel it—c’mon, mommy, soak me.”

That does it—she snaps, her whole body locking up as she cums, hard and loud, a broken “Fuck—babe!” ripping out of her as her pussy clamps down on you like a vice, pulsing, gushing, her thighs quaking against yours. She’s shaking, gasping, her fingers still circling her clit as she rides it out, and holy shit, the way she squeezes you—it’s intense, almost too much, your cock leaking more, dripping inside her, but you hold it together, barely. She’s moaning, desperate and sweet, her bounces turning erratic, sloppy, like she’s milking every last shudder out of herself, and you’re just watching, mesmerized, your hands roaming her ass, her back, feeling her unravel.

“Shit,” she pants, slowing down, her chest heaving as she leans back against you, her pussy still twitching around your cock. “That was—fuck, so good.” She’s trembling, catching her breath, but then she turns her head, looks at you with those wild eyes, and you know she’s not done—she’s got more in her. “You’re close too, huh?” she says, voice ragged but teasing, her hand sliding down to where you’re still buried inside her, feeling how hard you are. “I can tell—fuck, you’re dying to cum, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” you groan, hips twitching up into her, your voice wrecked. “So fucking close—Yujin, I’m gonna—” You can’t even finish, too wound up, and she grins, wicked and sharp, sliding off your lap in one smooth move. Your cock slips free, slick and shiny, still leaking, and she drops to her knees in front of you, grabbing it with both hands before you can even catch your breath.

“Give it to me,” she says, stroking you fast, her hands tight and slippery from all the mess. “Cum in my mouth—want it all over my tongue, babe. C’mon, give it to mommy.” She’s pumping you now, relentless, her grip firm, and you’re moaning loud, no holding back, the sound ripping out of you as your hands fly to her hair, gripping, guiding her. She’s so fucking good—too good—her hands working you like she’s done it a thousand times, and the way she’s looking up at you, eyes dark and hungry, begging for it, it’s shredding you.

“Fuck—please, Yujin,” you gasp, voice breaking, your hips bucking as she strokes faster, her tongue darting out to teased the tip, flicking over it, salty and wet. “Gonna cum—shit, I’m gonna cum so hard.” She’s moaning now, soft little hums against your cock, egging you on, and she’s begging—begging—her voice dripping with lust. “Do it—cum for me, babe—fucking cum, I need it.”

That’s it—you’re gone, groaning loud and ragged as your cock pulses, the first spurt hitting her tongue, hot and thick, and she takes it, opening her mouth wider, stroking you through it. “Fuck—yes!” you mutter, hips jerking, and she’s pumping you, milking you, cum spilling out—spurt after spurt, more than you thought you had left after all that leaking. It’s a lot, coating her tongue, dripping from her lips, and she doesn’t stop, hands sliding, squeezing every last drop out of you until you’re shaking, gasping, your cock twitching, hypersensitive as hell.

She pulls back, slow and deliberate, her tongue curling out to show you—white and thick, pooled there, a fucking mess—and you’re just staring, chest heaving, completely wrecked. “Look at that,” she murmurs, smirking, then closes her mouth, swallowing it down slow, savoring it like it’s some gourmet shit. She leans in after, licking the tip of your cock—soft, careful, but it’s so sensitive you flinch anyway, a shaky “Fuck, Yujin” slipping out as she cleans you up, every swipe of her tongue making you twitch.

She stands then, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, grinning wide—those dimples popping, but there’s nothing innocent about her now. You’re still gasping, pleasure buzzing through you, when she steps close, grabbing your waist, pulling you flush against her. Her skin’s hot, sticky with sweat and cum, and she’s dominating—her grip firm, her eyes locking onto yours like she’s staking a claim all over again. “You’re mine,” she says, voice low, intense, her fingers digging into your sides. “Officially—fucking mine. No thinking about other girls, no looking at them, nothing. Everything you’ve got—it’s for me now. Got it?”

You nod, fast, still too fucked out to argue, your hands sliding up her back, pulling her closer. “Yeah—promise,” you mutter, voice hoarse but sure. “All yours, Yujin—no one else. Swear.”

Her grin softens, those dimples turning almost cute, and she leans in, kissing you deep, her tongue sweeping into your mouth, tasting you, tasting herself. “Good boy,” she whispers against your lips. “I love you—fuck, I really do.”

“Love you too,” you say back, raw and immediate, your hands tightening on her, pulling her in so there’s no space between you. “So fucking much, Yujin—you’ve got no idea.” It’s intense—this pull between you, this messy, wild, overwhelming thing—and you’re both standing there, breathing hard, wrapped up in each other like nothing else exists.

She smirks again, that playful edge creeping back, her hands sliding down to your ass, squeezing. “Oh, I’ve got some idea,” she teases, pressing herself against you, and fuck, you’re still half-hard, still twitchy from everything she’s done. “You’re crazy for me—and I’m crazy for you. We’re stuck like this, babe—deal with it.” She laughs, low and dirty, and you’re grinning too, helpless, because yeah—you’re in deep, and it’s exactly where you wanna be.

—

You stir awake, the kind of groggy wake-up where your limbs feel heavy and the world’s still fuzzy, like you’re wading through a dream that hasn’t quite let go. The room’s bathed in this soft, gray light, the rain still pattering against the window in a slow, hypnotic rhythm—same as yesterday, like the weather’s stuck on repeat. You blink, rubbing sleep from your eyes, and that’s when you feel her—Yujin’s stare, warm and steady, prickling your skin before you even turn your head. She’s right there, propped up on one elbow, lying on her side, and fuck, she’s a vision—dangerous, sexy, like some kind of predator playing house. Just that tank top, white and worn-in, stretched thin over her chest so you can see the faint outline of her nipple piercings pushing against it, and these tiny panties, barely hanging onto her hips. Her hair’s a tangled mess, spilling over her shoulder, and she’s got this lazy, smug smile, like she’s already claimed the morning—and you—before you’ve even had a chance to catch your breath.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” she says, voice low and scratchy, still thick with sleep but laced with that teasing edge she’s got down to an art. She stretches, slow and deliberate, arching her back so the tank top rides up, showing off the smooth plane of her stomach, the dip of her navel, and you’re already hooked, eyes tracing every inch like you haven’t seen it a hundred times before. “Slept like a fucking rock, huh? Guess I wore you out.” She slides closer, her bare leg brushing yours under the sheets, warm and soft, and it’s so easy, so natural, like she’s picking up right where she left off—like the months of chaos, the screaming matches, the way she’d smashed a plate against the wall and told you you’d regret leaving, never happened.

“Yeah,” you mutter, voice rough, still waking up as you shift to sit up a little, the sheets slipping down to your hips. “Guess I needed it.” You catch a glimpse of her thigh, thick and glistening faintly in the dim light, and there’s this flash in your head—her voice, sharp and venomous, “You think you can do better? Good fucking luck,” the way her eyes had burned with something wild, something that made your stomach twist with fear and want all at once. But now she’s here, soft and close, her hand already sliding up your arm, fingers curling around your bicep like she’s testing her grip, and it’s hard to hold onto that memory when she’s looking at you like this—like you’re hers, and she’s never doubted it.

She leans in, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, lingering just long enough to make your skin tingle, then pulls back, smirking as she swings her legs off the bed. “C’mon, let’s get coffee—rain’s not stopping, so we’re staying in. My rules.” She’s up now, padding across the hardwood, her tank top barely covering her ass, those panties hugging her hips just right, and you’re watching, shameless, because how could you not? She glances back over her shoulder, catching you staring, and her smirk turns sharper, dimples flashing like a trap snapping shut. “Like the view? Better get used to it—gonna be seeing a lot of me around here.”

You follow, slower, your feet hitting the cold floor as you drag yourself out of bed, boxers hanging low on your hips, still half-dazed from sleep and her. The apartment smells faintly of last night—sweat, her perfume, something musky and lived-in—and the rain’s a dull roar outside, sealing you in this little bubble with her. She’s already in the kitchen, rummaging through your cabinets like she owns them, pulling out mugs, coffee grounds, moving with this easy confidence. “Found the good shit,” she says, holding up the bag of beans you’d forgotten about, some overpriced blend you’d bought on a whim. “You’ve been holding out on me—thought you were all instant crap now.”

“Nah, just lazy,” you say, leaning against the counter, arms crossed as you watch her work the coffee maker like it’s hers. She’s humming under her breath, some tune you don’t recognize, and it’s so domestic, so fucking normal, it’s messing with you—because the last time you saw her, she was screaming, “You’ll come crawling back, watch,” her voice cracking as she’d shoved your stuff into a bag, tears streaking her face. Now she’s here, barefoot, pouring water into the machine, her tank top slipping off one shoulder, and it’s like that never happened—like you’re picking up from some perfect moment that never broke.

She turns, catching your eye, and steps closer, sliding her hands up your chest, fingers brushing your collarbone. “You’re quiet,” she murmurs, tilting her head, her breath warm against your jaw. “What’s up? Thinking about how lucky you are to have me back?” She’s teasing, but there’s this weight in her words, this quiet insistence, and you feel it—this flicker of something off, something that makes your throat tighten. But then she kisses you, soft and slow, her lips tasting faintly of toothpaste, and it’s gone, washed away by the heat of her mouth, the way her body presses into yours.

“Lucky as hell,” you say, forcing a grin, your hands finding her hips, sliding under the tank top to feel the bare skin of her waist. “Still can’t believe you’re here—thought I’d wake up and you’d be a ghost.” It’s half a joke, half true, and she laughs, soft and low, pulling back to grab the mugs as the coffee maker gurgles, filling the room with that rich, bitter smell.

“Not a ghost,” she says, handing you a mug, black and steaming, her fingers brushing yours as she does. “Real as fuck—sticking around this time.” She takes a sip, leaning against the counter opposite you, her legs crossed at the ankles, and it’s a picture—her in your kitchen, rain streaking the windows, the world outside blurry and distant. “Gonna make this place mine again—you cool with that?”

“Yeah,” you say, sipping your coffee, the heat biting your tongue as you watch her over the rim. “Feels right—having you here.” And it does—too right, maybe, because there’s this quiet hum in your head, this shadow of her voice, “You’re nothing without me,” the way she’d cried and clung to you after the fights, promising it’d be different, only to blow up again days later. But now she’s calm, sipping coffee, her tank top slipping down one shoulder, her eyes warm and steady, and it’s easy to shove that noise down, to let the moment wrap around you like a blanket.

She sets her mug down, stepping closer again, her hands sliding up your arms, resting on your shoulders. “Good,” she murmurs, kissing you again, quick this time, her lips soft and familiar. “Cause I’m not letting you out of my sight—lazy day, just us. Rain’s got us trapped anyway.” She pulls you toward the couch, tugging you down with her, and you go, coffee abandoned on the counter, your body sinking into the cushions as she curls up against you, her head on your chest, one leg slung over yours like she’s anchoring you there.

“Love this,” she says, voice muffled against your shirt, her fingers tracing lazy lines on your stomach. “You and me—chill, no bullshit. Missed it—missed you.” She tilts her head up, smiling, those dimples making her look almost sweet, almost innocent, and your chest tightens—love, yeah, but something else too, something you can’t name. “You’re not gonna fuck this up again, right?” she teases, but her eyes linger, searching, and you feel it—this quiet pressure, this need to say what she wants to hear.

“Nah,” you say, brushing her hair back, your hand resting on her neck, thumb grazing her pulse. “Not letting you go—love you too much.” It’s true, raw, spilling out easy, and she hums, satisfied, nestling closer, her body warm and solid against you. The rain keeps falling, a steady drone, and you’re here, tangled up with her, the past a faint echo you can barely hear over her breathing. She’s got you—completely—and you’re telling yourself it’s luck, pure fucking luck, that someone like her—sharp, beautiful, unstoppable—wants you this bad, needs you this close. And she’s smiling, marking you with every touch, every word, like she’s never been anything but yours.

[duskvsdawn]

What a tantalising creature

On one of your regular walks on the beach, you suddenly see a mysterious creature. His beautiful songs draw you closer, and when he comes face to face with you, he has decided you will be his mate.

≫A/N: So, uh... Twitter is flooded with fan art of Kaelix as a merman today. I had to write about it. I don't know much about how merman anatomy works, and I know it's also up to interpretation (I know a tiny bit), so I am using my imagination for a big part, bear with me lmao. I hope all of you enjoy this really experimental writing that was pushed out on a whim because holy moly, my mind went places. Tagging @celestiaras and @briskunt because I have a feeling that both of you will love this specific fic in particular (I hope so at least!!)

CW: female reader, Kaelix as a merman, and uh he wants to mate with you so it's smut, extremely scuffed sexy times cause I really need to think about how I am even going to approach this, Kaelix is a virgin, Kaelix eats reader out, then he fucks her dumb because he just has to make sure you are filled to the brim so uh kinda breeding kink

Art credits <3

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

If you like my works, please like, comment and reblog! It is much appreciated ❤ And if you really enjoyed it, please follow me so you can be kept up to date on future uploads! Please do not re-upload, translate, or use for AI training.

You loved walking on the beach in the late evenings. Everything was so calm and quiet during that time of day, and you always took it as an opportunity to calm your mind and get your thoughts straight. All of a sudden, you hear a beautiful male voice singing a song. You look in the direction of the voice, and it's coming from the water. There you see a man with hair as white as snow, and eyes that shift from a beautiful ocean blue into a forest green. And the man also seems to have interesting ears. Could it be a mythical creature of some sort? You had heard some tales about mermen roaming in this area during this time of year, but you couldn't imagine that would actually be real.

You watch the man for some time as he is just relaxing in the water, still singing beautiful songs. His voice draws you closer and closer, occasionally taking a step forward, closer to the water. It seems the man hasn't noticed you yet, but it suddenly seems like he's on the move. He swims over to a large flat rock closer to shore and hoists himself onto it. A beautiful tail appears out of the water, shifting from blue to green just like his eyes. So, mermen really do exist, you suppose. You take a deep breath and walk even closer to the creature, hypnotised by his singing.

When your feet stand in the water, the man suddenly turns his head around and looks at you. "Oh, why hello there," the man says as a smirk appears on his face. Oh, you looked so beautiful to him, simply stunning. He could smell your scent now, and if he didn't know better, he'd say you're aroused. You were wearing a crop top and extremely short and tight shorts, following the curve of your hips and your ass. The creature licked his lips as he saw you walk into the water. He wasn't singing anymore, but his eyes were just as hypnotising as his voice. You had to get closer to him. You wanted to get to know him. You had to touch him.

You stood in front of the rock now, not really sure what to do next. "Feel free to join me, beautiful. The moon is absolutely stunning tonight, we could look at it together," the merman said in hopes of drawing you even closer. He didn't have to tell you twice. You climbed up on the rock and sat down next to the man. He wrapped his tail around your feet as an arm folded itself around your shoulders. You swallowed the lump in your throat to ask him the only question on your mind at that very moment.

"What's your name?" you asked with a shaky voice. The creature had put its face into your neck now, taking a good whiff of your scent, and it seemed his suspicions were true. The smell of arousal rolled off your body, and it was driving him mad. "Kaelix," the man replied as he left a searing kiss on your neck, "What's yours, beautiful?" the man continued. You told him your name. You weren't sure if it was a good idea, but you had an idea you weren't getting out of here alive anyway. Once you're drawn into a mercreature's trap, there is no escaping it. If Kaelix wanted to kill you, he could do it right here, right now. But he didn't.

Instead, he scooted even closer to you and gently took your face into his hands. "Oh... If only you knew what you do to me... You're irresistible," the merman whispered, his hot breath hitting your face. His face got even closer to yours until your lips were barely touching. You wrapped your arms around the creature and pulled him in for a hungry kiss. Kaelix hummed in approval as his tongue licked your bottom lip, asking you for entrance, which you happily granted him. His tongue was long and pointed at the tip, and it felt so smooth against your own. At this point, you were enthralled by the creature, and he was all you thought about. The merman gently pushed you onto your back and leaned over you, trapping your mouth in a hungry French kiss once more. After a little while, you broke the kiss, panting for air. With half-lidded eyes, you looked at Kaelix and gently touched his ears (if you could even consider them ears?). The creature let out another low hum and leaned into your touch, licking your hand afterwards.

"Fuck, you're so pretty. I need to have you to myself tonight. Will you let me?" the creature asked, surprisingly composed and polite about this whole thing that he was planning on doing with you. You knew what he meant by that, and he was so incredibly pretty that you couldn't deny him, even if you tried. As your breath hitched in your throat, you replied: "Yes... Yes please..." as you impatiently rubbed your legs together, looking for some sort of friction. The merman noticed what you were doing, even if you were doing it on autopilot, and it didn't even register in your own mind. The man scooted lower and spread your legs after he took off your shorts and your lacy thong.

The creature licked its lips, your smell of arousal so overwhelming to him now that it made him dizzy with need. Kaelix moved closer and licked a long stripe up your folds before he started eating you out like a man starved. His tongue occasionally entered your core, the length and the texture of it making you throw your head back, almost banging it against the hard rock beneath you. When he wasn't doing that, his mouth would be wrapped around your sensitive clit, sucking on it like his life depended on it. He wanted you to fall apart all over his face so bad, so he worked even harder to make it a reality. His tongue entered you once more as his finned hand rubbed your clit with alternating pressure and speeds. You could feel yourself getting closer, your moans turning into choked whines as the coil kept tightening. The creature moaned as he lapped up more and more of your essence like it was the most delicious meal the world had to offer. Those moans against your folds were what sent you over the edge. You moaned his name as you pulled his face even closer to your core and released all over his face. The merman kept licking and sucking to help you ride out your orgasm, and honestly, he could do this all day if you would let him. He wasn't wasting a single drop, even wiping the remaining release from his face to then lick his fingers clean.

You were panting like a dog, the afterglow washing over you. But the creature wasn't done yet, and you knew that. Kaelix moved up higher, so he was face to face with you to leave a needy kiss on your lips and then moved to your neck. He gently nibbled the skin there, and then proceeded to suck a hickey right above your collarbone. The merman started moving his scaly tail against your core. It felt strange, but the friction felt incredible. Then, you felt something different rub against you. The creature had let its member spring free from its sheath, and you curiously looked at it. It was big, both in length and in girth. It had all sorts of textures on it, and the tip was pointed, just like his tongue, and it was also curved like a gentle wave. It felt very smooth and slick, even with those textures. Kaelix let out a desperate whimper; he wanted to get inside of you so badly. You bit your lip and pulled him closer, leaving heated kisses on his neck.

"Can I put it in? Please, I need to be inside of you. I need you so bad," the creature said with a whiny moan as he hid his face in your own neck to kiss you there just as much. You nodded, and Kaelix pushed inside of you in one swift motion. A gasp of surprise left your mouth as you were stretched open so deliciously, and a sigh of relief left his as he immediately set a brutal pace. You held onto to him for dear life as his dick kept hitting the most delicious of spots, thanks to its curves and textures. You were going crazy with pleasure as it seemed he sped up even more, and you didn't even know it was possible. If it weren't for the rough surface beneath you, you'd surely be moved to a different spot due to his harsh thrusts. You were surprised at his impeccable upper body strength, he wasn't even phased by how his arms had to hold him up like this, he surely must have practised this before. But little did you know, that you were his very first mate, he was just so damn determined to fuck you until the both of you would pass out in afterglow.

He kept chanting your name over and over between whines and whimpers. He felt so sensitive, and on top of that, your seductive smell was overwhelming his senses, and it felt like absolute heaven to be inside of you. He started whimpering even harder as he hid his face in your neck once more. Seeing him enjoy himself so much only made you enjoy yourself that much more as well, and you could tell he was getting close. You wanted to get there with him, so your hand snaked between the two of you to softly pinch your sensitive clit. With your other arm still around him, you pulled him as close as possible.

"Fuckfuckfuck... I'm cumming, I'm cumming, fuck!" the creature moaned, close to a scream as its hips began to stutter against yours. You moaned just as loudly at this point, telling him you were close too. And all of a sudden, you could feel yourself getting filled up as Kaelix bit down hard on your neck. To him, this meant he had marked you as his mate forever, and no one else would ever be able to have you, even if humans thought differently about this most times. You came along with him, covering his scaly tail in your release. You were panting against his shoulder, and you expected him to pull out. But as if in a daze, he picked up the pace once more, determined to keep filling you up over and over until you were filled to the brim. After uh, could have been 12 rounds, but you lost count halfway through, to be honest, you couldn't even tell up from down anymore. You were so fucked out at this point that all you could do was moan his name like a pathetic whore. Kaelix was just as vocal as you at this point, moaning your name just as desperately as he pushed himself to his limit to fill you up one last time, that should do the trick.

His hips stuttered once more as he bit your neck again, in a different spot this time, and he filled you up with one final release. Feeling his seed fill you up sent you over the edge once more, screaming, but no sound left your throat anymore. The creature collapsed on top of you as you held him close, keeping you plugged up while he struggled to catch his breath.

"You're mine now. Only mine. No one else is allowed to have you now. You will bear my children. And I don't care if we have to do this over and over to make sure you will." Kaelix said as he let out a sigh of relief, the sexual tension leaving him for now. You had no idea if it was even possible for you to have his children, and what would happen to you from here on out, but you were curious to find out.

[agbpaints]

How To: Basic Model Photography

Far too often I see folks post their newly painted minis online only to fumble at the last hurdle with a poor picture. It doesn't matter how good a painter you are, a bad photo can ruin any model. While you can invest in an expensive light box and a purpose-made camera, there are some things you can do to get at least quality photographs with a phone camera and some items from around the house.

Light

You want as much ambient light as possible plus some extra sources to account for the scale of the minis. If you have a room with big windows and the sun isn't directly blasting through them, that's great. If not then a reasonably bright overhead room light will work too. I also use an articulated LED desk lamp as a more controlled source to light the miniature from the front and illuminate details that an overhead source might cast into shadow.

Background

Try to get some sort of flat color backdrop to photograph your minis against. The easiest method I've found is to get a sheet of paper, I use some lightly colored and textured parchment paper, and then prop that up against something sturdy to make a gentle curve before setting your mini on it. Neoprene warhammer play mats or paper battletech maps can also work great for this if you do want a more thematic background to match your game of choice. This not only makes the model stand out more without visual noise in the background, it helps control your lighting and gives your camera an easier target to focus on.

Stability and Camera Distance

Your weak, fleshy meat hands might seem kinda steady but for the purposes of doing very scuffed macro photography they almost certainly aren't, so you’re gonna want some form of mechanical stabilization for your camera. A tripod is great for this, but if you don't have one then you can just prop your phone up on whatever surfsce you're taking the photos on.

You'll also want to play with how far the camera should be from the model for the best picture- I find that about 6-8 inches works best for my Galaxy 20 but your mileage may vary depending on what hardware you use.

Angles

Because a photo is a static 2d representation of a 3d object, the angle you take a photograph at relative to the model will chance which details are most visible and how the pose is read by the viewer. Think about how you want your finished piece to look like and consider taking a couple of protos with different angles and poses tonsee what works best.

Cropping

A teeny tiny mini in the middle of a big wide photo means anyone who wants to look closely at the details needs to zoom in on it, and most people won't do that! Once you've taken your photo, crop it down so that the miniature is filling the frame.

You could also consider the Rule of Thirds- most photo editing software will give you pairs of vertical and horizonal lines that divide an image into 9 segments, framing your subject in the photo so that it ends up falling along or framed by those lines can give you a guideline to easily produce a well composed photo.

Hopefully these tips help you take better photos of your models! It does take a few extra minutes compared to just snapping a quick photo off the paint betch but the extra effort is absolutely worth the results in my opinion

[gl1tchy-4rt]

Okay I have to explain myself, idk what i was cooking here XD I realised that this post was pretty scuffed, rushed and mediocre (in my opinion) and as @technically-a-kiwi said and i quote "Altho it was kind of hard to read some of these part 'x), it does need smoothing to be more comprehensible"

so i took the positive constructivism, Privated the original post and rewrote it and I hope it's better now!

Hope you guys enjoy the New version!

and @anomal-repos here's so you re-repost the thing ;)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A guide to survive in the Eldritchverse (AKA: "Eldritch Tower Facts!" rewritten)

By Thobalu'viandohu or 'The Elder of the beginning'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1# Know The Boss (Me!)

Everyone has some sort of Boss and the other Gods are no different.

This is Totino (Me!); The boss. No mortal knows in what sense I'm their boss but I am, all of the Eldritch listen and obey Me.

I had been called... "creepy" and "unnervingly calm" but don't worry too much about Me! I am a benevolent boss and god....

Most of the time...

Okay i'll be honest with you, I won't deny that it is kinda funny seeing humanity cause their own demise and suffering over and over again...

2# How much Control do they have?

They have full control of the Earth and the universe, everything will bend to their own will.... Yet they let the World work on "free will" most of the time.

Why? Because it makes them feel more human and prevents the loss of humanity, both on themselves and the world.

3# What are the Tablets of Ruin?

There are Tablets of all kinds, from different cultures and materials, Detailing the characteristics of the "Final day", they talk about Who will cause it, Who are the Gods and what is their origin.

Overall, plenty of legends engraved unto them, in dialects of all kinds, some forgotten by time itself.

Rumors say these tablets are remnants of a past reality that no longer exists, in other words a warning, a premonition...

4# Can you kill a God?

No, no you can't, but you can severely hurt one.

After all, Plenty of things can happen when you are an Elder god, things that your now mortal vessel can't handle.

On the bright side if you are a god you can always let your body deform and regrow if necessary, no pain or years of healing needed... They just need to make sure no human sees them or they will tell the others, and the stress of being chased is the last thing they need at the moment.

5# What are Blood Flowers?

In lots of depictions, such as the ancient amate[1] depicting "The Killing of Mauhcayihuatl[2]" they show flowers, Marigolds in this cases, blooming in the God's wounds, those flowers fittingly referred to as "Blood Flowers" or "Wound Flowers"

No one, not even the Gods themselves, know why this happens, they suspect it is a response from their unconscious to avoid trauma, filling the space with something smoothing and kind like their favorite flower... and they are right!

6# Know your Constellations

The firmament is said to be the storybook of the universe, showing all kinds of stories to humanity, and that's no different with us, just like with the Greek and Roman gods, Our image has been found on the firmament.

Pictured above is "The Blind man's gaze" said to be depicting Philippos the Blind man, the human form of one of the deities.

The Constellations are necessary for some rituals and each God has their own stars, so know them well if you want to make such rituals correctly!

7# Are they aware of your Existence?

Yes...

Just... don't make them upset and you should be fine.

8# The Sigils of the Eyes

There's plenty of symbols related to them, including this one, it belongs to "The Lord of the Crops and Vermins"

These are called The "Sigils of the Eyes", each Sigil is unique to a God, they appear in a God's face when they use their Powers in their mortal form, due to this it's also called a "Glimpse of the Eldritch"

9# What is their Every day like?

They are Gods, and they do indulge in the pros. and glory of being gods but they also don't want to suffer a loss of humanity.

"Loss of humanity? On a God? That doesn't make sense..." You might think, but here's the thing, they were once humans.

Yup, you heard me right.

They are Human after all.

They have a mortal body, which they use to partake in everyday activities, with responsibilities, experiences of all kinds and mild pleasures, just like any other human.

They usually follow a pattern of having a certain life or job, sometimes they change it up from reality to reality, but they do have their favorite types of life.

For example, This god has a tendency to work as a chef.

Hope you enjoyed the guide, I hope you listened well cause and know how to deal with an intruder...

Knock-knock! I'm at your door!!

-------------------------

Notes:

[1]: Amate is a type of bark paper, kinda like papyrus paper, that has been manufactured in Mexico since the precontact times

[2]: Roughly translates from Nahuatl (Aztec language) to "The Lady of Terror and Chaos", Made from the Nahuatl words "Mauhcayotl" (Fear/Terror) and "Cihuatl" (Woman)

[zebee-nyx]

CalmWriMo Day 11

[11/11/2023]

Update!

Chill day (^.^). Did me some writing! See below for that! Enjoy (^v^).

Progress:

2 Hour Writing Goal: ✅ [woot woot!]

Blurb: [see below]

Self Care:

Food: ✅

Hydration: ✅

Sleep: ✅

Reading: ✅

Blurb: Scuffed

The image of a teen girl lights up the screen, leaned over the camera where her face takes up most of the view. She tilts her head and lightly bites her lip. "Is it working?" There is a hint of nervousness, or maybe anticipation, in her voice. She pushes a strand of pink hair from her face as she asks. Someone off the screen briefly answers, but was too distant to be picked up by the mic in any understandable way. The girl's face lights up. She briefly wipes a splotch of dirt from the lens with her thumb as she picks up the camera. It's hard to tell if the visual got any better than before with a smudge now left in the dirt's place.

She lifts the camera just above her head before the camera seems to suspend itself in the air where she releases it. There is a light buzzing noise as it does causing the view to lightly shake. Without moving her legs she glides backwards. The camera seems to follow to keep her centered in the frame as she comes fully into view.

She wears holey shorts and a generic pink t-shirt. Over the t-shirt she wears what appears to be a dusty brown duster that had been cropped about inline with her lower most ribs. There are some small scattered patches of silvery silicon skin visible just above the collar of her shirt and on the exposed parts of her thighs. Starting at her knees, her legs instantly transitions to sleek metal painted with a shinny metallic cyan paint. At the ends of these cybernetic legs are pink rollerblade wheels. Behind the odd character is what can only be described as a trash heap, only dimly visible in the background by some distant lights.

"Hey hey, dreamers! It's me, Ko-, er, 'Bandit', coming to you live from the- uh, well, the yards!" She seems to suddenly burst with energy that kinda awkwardly tappers off for a brief moment as she seems to visually cringe. She has a bright toothy smile despite it. "I'm out here delivering this box of, uh... oh shit..." She leans forward into a glide that takes her below the camera briefly. The camera bobs downwards to try to chase her for a second before she slides backwards to where she was standing, now with a completely unremarkable box in hand. "This, er, well it doesn't really matter what it is. What does matter is this place is ripe with exciting dangers! Out on the edge of the city where anything can happen and-"

As Bandit continues to ramble to the camera a figure wanders into view in the background. He has that look that can only really be described as 'crazed junkyard spore addict' who wears no shirt and has lightly graying skin. He nearly gets the full length of view before his head turns towards the camera and looks back where he was going before doing a double take back towards Bandit. The man immediately becomes more animated as he begins practically bouncing closer in a dramatic swaying motion while waving someone who is off the screen over.

"-well anyways, there's nothing out there that'll stop me from completing this gig!" She boldly proclaims just as a rock or some hefty piece of trash hits the camera immediately killing the buzzing noise. The camera hits the pavement below with a solid thud that causes the feed to go static for a second. As the feed returns there is a crack across the lens and the camera is now on the ground on it's side, but angled up enough to see most of Bandit's leg augs.

With a step motion Bandit spins around. The box that was just in her hands falls next to the camera, the corner falls just into view with an audible crunch as it hits the ground. "Sonuva- You dirty garbage rats!" Bandit furiously bellows, only immediately followed by a few flashes in the darkness emanating from roughly where she is standing and the deafening sounds of gunfire. A few people in the distance can be heard making a mix of hysterical laughter and panicked yelping as they presumably scatter.

The excitement seems to end just as soon as it starts as the noises die down. Bandit turns back around. "Well, now with that concluded! Wait, wha- Crap." She knees down and picks up the camera bringing the view back on her face. She seems to be pouting, but the view is too blurred between the crack, smudges, and newly applied dirt on the lens. "Damn it... Hey Nat, c'mere!" The feed suddenly cuts.

[Thank you for reading! Also Kori's first stream! ('^v^) A bit scuffed, but I'm sure she'll get herself sorted soon enough. Anyways and always, hope you are having a lovely day, peace (^v^)v]

[false-anachronism]

ok so dakota sportswear. obviously. i think before he got his powers he wore like a combo of sportswear and comfy lounge clothes (basically whatever he could get secondhand) and ofc his staple flannel (<<voice of a guy who wore the same flannel over and over and over in middle/high school. that flannel had Seen Some Shit) but after he gets his powers it's mostly sportswear. everything else wears out too fast!!! alaska did Not have the funds to get him new clothes often so everything was worn until it was too full of holes to wear anymore. was not a fashionable boy in school. he dresses in worn out sportswear basically up until the end of s2 but goddd give him some cool techwear stuff and he would be so in love with the style. someone tell him he's allowed to have new and nice things and then get his ass some new cargo pants with some cool straps!!! also post s2 he paints his shoes for sure. like he's starting to realize hey i can just. Have New Things that are decent quality and they won't get wrecked or scuffed immediately!!! he still wears things until they're basically falling off his body but they're better quality and don't get worn out as fast and he can find some cool shit he genuinely likes wearing. mostly techwear and still lots of sportswear

WIWI DYSPHORIA HOODIE IS SO IMPORTANT!!!!!!!!!!!! he did not give a single flying FUCK about fashion all throughout s1!! look at his canon art!!! s2 he probably got a little more fun with it (silly "graphic "i died at 16" tee he had to have made himself!!!) but for the most part it was still hoodies and jeans and the occasional graphic tee. post s2??? please god he should be allowed to be a scene kid. please. he deserves this. s1/s2 wiwi is like when ur 13 and u think emo/scene kids are so cool but ur parents are too strict/don't have the funds/don't understand the style and don't get you anything like what u want so u just do ur best and wear the darkest clothes u have. and also it's the small town trans kid thing where ur terrified of drawing attention to urself and wearing what u Actually want would be a social death sentence pretty much!!! and then u get out of school finally and ur an adult and u learn more about urself and actually accept yourself for who u are and u kinda realize Wow i can literally just. wear what i want!!! basically post s2 wiwi is dripped out in scene kid shit he is making kandi and sharing it with vyncent in that gay holding hands way u do with kandi he is badly dyeing blue racoon stripes into his hair he is wearing chains and belts and clothes with fun patterns and ofc the dysphoria hoodie is still a thing but he wears it unzipped more and with the hood down sometimes. baby emo/scene kid in an adult body. yeagh

da vinky....... throws that ugly ass tracksuit out during the time skip. vyncent "has been told who to be and what to do and has lived in other people's shadow his whole life" has no sense of style of his own for a longggg ass time. i think . wiwi takes him 2 get some stuff of his own during the time skip but he doesn't rly. know what he wants??? so he kinda just picks out stuff that's similar to william's for a bit. jeans and graphic tees. post s2 tho when he's on his own in college and is on his own for the first time in a while and is learning abt himself..... in my heart of hearts i think he would like crop tops. this could be the cropped jacket in his official art talking but i like the concept. it gets warmer on prime than on fauna i think he would heavily fuck w tank tops and crop tops!!! also this could be nhw brain talking but god please give him a leather jacket and big stompy boots he would LOVE a pair of big stompy boots!!!!! i think he's very casual with it and like trying to figure out what he likes wearing so his clothes r pretty unexciting but he LOVESSSS accessories. goes into a hot topic with william once and gets so sidetracked with the jewelry!!!! he will wear the most simple tank top with blue jeans and somehow make it look so fucking cool by virtue of having one million cool necklaces and earrings and rings and bracelets. hottest mf on campus

ashe wintarrrrrrr i think he is. rather unexciting with his fashion too tbh. he spent most of his life indoors and did not have anywhere 2 go!!! bro didn't care what he wore for a long time!!!! i think post s2 tho he's very much into like. comfy stuff that also has an aesthetic. long cardigans with like skulls all over them. long sleeve undershirts w graphic tees over them. occasional tripp pants. might throw on a skirt if he's rly tired and/or sore and doesn't wanna deal with the ordeal of putting on pants. good low spoons garment. ofc he has his beanie but starts to not wear it sometimes just for fun and feels kinda weird but not bad about it. just wears a lot of comfy emo and occasionally goth-leaning things if he feels like putting in a little more effort!!! very much still trying to find a style he feels Good wearing now that he's out and about in public more and he is getting there!!! makes kandi bracelets with will and usually has at least one on him but other than that not a huge accessory dude. god this got so long

the dash is talkin abt pd fashion headcanons....... gimme a minute 2 cook

[kumeko]

A/N: For the @sheramagazine! I wanted to do a spoof of MTV Cribs with three disasters trying their best to promote unity and peace. Key word: trying.…

…

…

…

“Hey, this is Bow.” Adjusting his bowtie, Bow smiled at the camera. Dressed in a white suit (with a crop-top pink shirt of course), he was every bit a professional MC. “I’m here at the Horde Headquarters! Now that we’re at peace, we thought it’d be a great time to learn about your enemies!”

Just out of sight, Sea-Hawk corrected, “Former enemies.”

“R-right!” Bow laughed sheepishly, rubbing his arm. “Former enemies! Because we’re at peace now and have to learn to live with them.” He bit his lip. “Because that’s what peace means. Right. Catra won’t try to end the world because we film this wrong.” Troubled, he scuffed his shoe.

“Should I stop filming?” Sea-Hawk asked concerned. The camera lowered slightly, cutting off part of Bow’s face.

“No, no, I’m good.” Bow’s smile was back on as the camera once more swung up to focus on his face. “Anyways, we’re here at the Horde Headquarters!” He turned slightly to gesture at the large, metal gates behind him. Just beyond them, there was an endless multitude of towering skyscrapers, all painted an ugly shade of yellow-green. Clouds covered the sky, blocking any light from filtering through.

Sea-Hawk whistled low and commented, “Isn’t it strange how it’s sunny on this side but cloudy on that? I thought only the sea was capable of such contradictions.”

“Yeah, this feels impossible.” Bow squinted at the sky, shielding his eyes. “Even the clouds look like they were just cut off. How does that happen?”

The camera pointed up abruptly, showing a bright blue sky directly above them. There was a carpet of grey clouds that had a clean, squarish ending, as though someone had just chopped off their sides. “Magic?”

“Maybe.” As the camera returned to Bow, he nodded solemnly. “Black magic, maybe. Anyways, we’re here for a tour. The people here are just like us. We might have fought and tried to kill each other, but they’re just like us.” Bow paused. Brow knitting, he frowned deeply and muttered, “This was Perfuma’s idea, why isn’t she here?”

“What was that?” Sea-Hawk asked, the camera shaking as he stepped closer.

“Nothing.” Bow cleared his throat again. “Anyways, we’re going to get a tour from Scorpia!”

As though summoned, a red speck appeared behind the gates. The camera zoomed in slightly to catch Scorpia as she ran toward them. Dressed similarly to Bow, she sported a black vest and purple tie. Unlike Bow, her outfit looked wrinkled from all that exertion. “Guys! Sorry I’m late!”

Bow smiled brightly as he waved back, his posture relaxing. “It’s fine! We just got to your part, actually.”

Stopping next to Bow, Scorpia hunched over slightly as she panted and regained her breath. Bow watched her patiently. Taking a last deep breath, she straightened up. “Alright! Are you ready?”

“Yes.” Bow slung an arm around her back, too short to reach her shoulders. “This Scorpia, our friend on the inside!”

“Oh!” Scorpia flushed slightly as she stared into the camera. Embarrassed, she rubbed the back of her head with a claw. “Oh gosh, I forgot about that. I’ve never been on a show before, what do I say?”

“Anything you want!” Bow squeezed her reassuringly, his expression still cheerful. “It’ll be fine.”

“Oh, then, uh…” Scorpia’s tail bobbed slightly as she puzzled over it. “Then, uh, well, hi Adora! And Catra!” She waved at the camera. “Oh, and of course Glimmer and Leonie and—”

-x-

The camera was shaky as it focused on Bow and Scorpia. They were walking between the skyscrapers, surrounded on all sides by looming, grim-looking buildings. Bow pulled out a cue-card, reading off it. “So, Scorpia, how big would you say this place is?”

“Uh…” Scorpia scrunched her nose as she thought about it. “Big? REALLY big?”

“How many bedrooms and bathrooms?” Bow continued, unfazed.

“A lot?” Scorpia chuckled awkwardly. “Do people really keep count of those things? They’re kinda, you know…”

“What about kitchens?” Bow asked instead.

“Oh golly, I don’t know.” Scorpia pushed her claws together, looking like a punished child. “Should I have found out before this? I guess I don’t know this place as well as I thought…maybe someone else should do this?”

Bow quickly pocketed his cue-card, shaking his head. “Of course not! I was just asking random questions—I mean, does it matter how many closets you have?” He gestured around them the sprawling campus. “The answer’s going to be a big number, we all know that!”

“You sure?” Scorpia asked, still looking worried.

Bow nodded. “Yeah, there’s more important things to know. Like—”

A loud screeching sound interrupted him and the camera fell to the ground, showing his ankles now. “What was that?” Sea-Hawk hissed, part of his hand appearing on the camera.

Bow crouched low, terrified. “I don’t know, but it sounded hungry.” He reached over his shoulder for his weapons and groaned when he realized he didn’t have any. “I shouldn’t have come unarmed!”

“Guys, what’re you doing?” Scorpia joined them, her bulky frame looking even bigger as she squatted. “Why’re we whispering?”

“Didn’t you hear that screeching?” Bow asked, twisting and turning furtively as he scanned their surroundings. Another sharp cry filled the air and he jumped. “What was that?”

“Oh, that?” Scorpia laughed, standing now. “That’s just a bird.”

“A bird?” Bow looked up at her, incredulous. “That’s a bird?”

The camera jolted as Sea-Hawk picked it up once more. He was still crouched, though, so it showed Bow’s head and Scorpia’s knees. “I have gone on many an adventure, and a creature like that only means it’s a monster.”

“It’s not a monster!” Scorpia defended. The camera tilted up in time to catch her shaking her head. “I mean, it doesn’t have the nicest voice, but it’s just a bird. You shouldn’t make fun of it for that, you’ll hurt its feelings. Don’t you guys also have birds?”

“Not like this.” Hesitantly, Bow straightened up. His shoulders were still tense. Sea-Hawk rose with him, the camera still glued to Bow. “That sounded like he was going to eat us.”

“He doesn’t eat people.” She laughed, utterly carefree.

In the distance, someone screamed. The camera cut away to zoom into the distance as a man fought the bird. Off-camera, Bow yelped. “It’s attacking him!”

“Nah, it’s just playing,” Scorpia replied cheerfully.

The camera zoomed in further, the picture growing a little grainy. However, two shapes were still clear—that of a person and that of a giant, horse-sized bird. The bird picked up the person, flying off into the distance.

-x-

A still-shocked Bow smiled shakily into the camera as he sat at a table next to Scorpia. In front of him was a tray containing a bowl filled with orange goop and two large, brown mysterious bricks. “Alright, we’re in the cafeteria now. A normal part of any place.” He swallowed, looking at the food. “And this is normal food.”

“Yep.” Scorpia was already chewing on one of the brown bricks. “My favourite dish is on Tuesday, actually, but this isn’t bad either.”

“Yep.” Bow picked up the other brown brick and stared at it. “So this is?”

“A protein bar,” Scorpia explained helpfully. “It’s actually part of those birds.”

Bow pursed his lips. “And those birds are edible.”

Even though it was a statement, not a question, Scorpia replied anyways. “They’re a little tough, but it’s tasty!” She scratched her cheek with a claw. “Well, not as tasty as your food; man, I don’t know how you make things so soft. I tried cooking here but I just keep getting chewy instead.”

Bow couldn’t explain; he wasn’t a cook. But he was hosting a show and he smiled bravely as he raised the brown brick to his mouth. “Alright, I’ll take a bite.” He bit down on one end. Immediately, he winced as he ground down on the bar. Unlike Scorpia’s easy bites, his first one took a lot of effort. After ten minutes of grinding, he managed to break off a tiny chunk.

“So?” Scorpia clasped her claws together, watching him curiously. “You like it?”

“It’s…” Bow groaned as he struggled to chew the tiny piece. “It’s…uh…tough. I don’t know how you bit that so easily.”

“Oh, I have strong teeth.” Scorpia winked as she pointed at her jaw. “Not as strong as my claws, but still really good. Catra says it cause I talk all the time.”

Bow rubbed his jaw. “It’s just so hard.”

“The soup helps with that.” Scorpia took a spoonful, showing it to the camera first. “This makes it a lot softer.” A drop spilled out of it and hit the table, leaving a hissing sound as it ate through the surface. She looked down and raised a brow. “Huh, that’s strange. Maybe someone mixed something up; I’ve done that before.”

“That shouldn’t do that, right?” Bow asked hesitantly, as though he was afraid of the answer.

“I don’t think so.” Scorpia shrugged. “I’ll get us another bowl. Want some, Sea-Hawk?”

The camera shook so quickly, it could give a person motion-sickness.

-x-

The camera slowly panned around a large, open-spaced room. It was an empty place, with metal walls and a metal floor. Stopping at Bow, the camera showed only his face and the nervous expression he bore. “Scorpia?” he asked.

“Yeah?” Her voice came over a set of speakers and echoed in the room.

“This is safe, right?” Bow asked, clutching his shirt nervously.

“Of course! It’s just the training room, we wouldn’t do anything lethal while you train.” Scorpia laughed. “Ready?”

“Not really,” Bow muttered before steeling himself. “Let’s go!”

“Alright!”

The room lit up, holograms filling up the space and revealing many obstacles—a crevice, a wall, a rope bridge. Bow glanced around and tentatively touched a nearby boulder. His finger hit the surface and wouldn’t go deeper. “That’s impressive!” He rapped it now. “Wow, that feels so real.”

“I know, right?” Scorpia sounded excited. “It’s amazing! I don’t know how they do it.”

“Yeah.” Bow turned back to the camera, looking surer of himself now. “We’re in the training room now! This is where they’d practice fighting us.” He chuckled. “Did you know they thought the princesses were monsters? Drama queens, sure, but monsters?”

Sea-Hawk gave a deep, throaty laugh. “If they saw how glorious Mermista was, they’d never say that.”

“We’re going to find out what one of their training simulations is like!” A soft buzzing sound filled the air and Bow looked around before pointing to his right. “First up, dodge the bullets.”

The camera turned to reveal a gun on the wall, pointed directly at them. It cocked before shooting with a loud bang. Bow dodged as the bullet whizzed through the air. “That must be—” The bullet just brushed past his hair, clipping it slightly and Bow’s eyes widened. “What?”

The camera zoomed in to get a closer look, reveal a small depression in Bow’s hair now. “You just narrowly dodged that,” Sea-Hawk informed him.

Nervously, Bow patted his hair, his eyes growing wider as he felt the depression. “It went through my hair.” He looked at Sea-Hawk. “That…that wasn’t real, you think?”

“N-n-no,” Sea-Hawk replied, his voice sounding the exact opposite. “That has to be fake, I’m sure.” He laughed nervously. “Not real.”

Another bullet buzzed through the air and the camera’s view lowered dramatically as Sea-Hawk crouched. Still low, Bow yelled, “Scorpia, those are fakes, right?”

“You can’t practice if they’re all fakes,” Scorpia replied cheerfully. “But don’t worry, the difficulty isn’t that high. You can do it!”

“Wait, Scorpia—” Sea-Hawk suddenly cut off and screamed. The camera abruptly pointed up, revealing that it was falling through a hole.  “AHHHHHHHHH!”

At the mouth, Bow leaned over, reaching down for Sea-Hawk desperately. “SEA-HAWK!”

-x-

“Hello!” Scorpia beamed at the camera, jumping excitedly as she pointed bright, pearly gates behind her. A bright, white castle welcomed them from beyond, every part of it gleaming in the sun. “We’re here at Bright Moon!”

“Y-yeah.” A worn-out Bow stepped into the scene next to her, waving weakly a the camera. Every part of him looked harried. “We decided to continue filming from a safer—I mean, to show the Horde what it’s like here. Yeah.”

“There’s no danger here,” Sea-Hawk added immediately, his voice sounding hoarse. “It’s all safe.”

“Yes, very, very safe,” Bow agreed.

“You guys are real big on safety, huh?” Not catching their drift, Scorpia tapped her chin. “What did you ask me before? Bedrooms and bathrooms?”

“Uh…” Rubbing his chin, Bow glanced at the castle. “There’s Glimmer’s…and Adora’s…and…How about a tour first?”

“Oh gosh, I can’t believe we’re actually doing this!” Scorpia bounced on her heels and pumped her claws. “I mean, I know that you said we would, but we’re actually doing it! Ohh, where do we go first?”

“Well, I was thinking the main castle.” The gates started to open, revealing a lush garden inside. Perfuma had done her magic on the castle and the place was almost overrun with flowers now. “We could start in the throne room—”

“Flowers!” Scorpia dashed inside before Bow could stop her, making a straight beeline to the closest flower. She pulled it closer and smelled it. “Ohh, this smells delicious.” She paused, looking back at them. “But don’t worry, I know it’s not for eating now.”

“That…you were going to eat them?” Bow asked incredulously, jogging after her.

The camera shook as Sea-Hawk followed. “An adventure of the palette!”

“They smell really tasty but they don’t taste it.” Scorpia flitted from flower to flower. “Oh wow, there are so many kinds here! Are they all different?”

“Yeah.” Bow trailed after her, his expression a cross between incredulous and pitying. “Now that I think about it, we didn’t see any plants when we visited.”

“Oh, that’s cause we don’t have some. I hear they need sun?” Scorpia looked up, shading her eyes. “Gosh, you get a lot of sun, you know? It’s so bright here. Is it always like that here?”

Bow wrung his hands as he nodded. “The one you’re holding is a lily. And—how about we just go to through the garden first?” Glancing over his shoulder, he made a throat slitting motion. When nothing happened, he hissed, “Cut the film, we’ll record later.”

-x-

“Alright, Bright Moon Palace is also really big and has a ton of bathrooms and bedrooms,” Bow said, standing in front of a door. He and Scorpia flanked the entrance, each of them looking excitedly at the camera. “I’ll just show Glimmer’s old room.”

“Guys, you’re in for a treat!” Scorpia pumped her fists energetically, looking more like a overgrown puppy than anything else. “This place is so amazing!”

“It is?” Sea-Hawk asked. The camera remained steady as he walked through the slowly opening door. Carefully, he scanned the room, making sure the shot took in every aspect of the room: the bright walls, the fluffy pillows, the long sheets.

Scorpia picked up a pillow, pinching it between two claws. “This pillow isn’t anything like ours. It’s so soft!” She cradled her cheek on it, closing her eyes as she sighed blissfully. “I could just sleep like this, it’s so comfortable.”

“It’s a nice pillow,” Bow agreed. Standing in the center of the room, he pointed above him at the hanging bed. “That’s where Glimmer sleeps, it’s a little hard to get there without teleporting but it’s doable.”

“That’s the best part of the room.” Letting go of the pillow, Scorpia gestured around her and spun around in the middle of the room as she spoke to the camera. “This whole place is just one person’s room! Only person sleeps here! Can you imagine? I couldn’t but can you?”

Hopping up the steps to the bed, Bow paused and shrugged. The camera swung from him to Scorpia and then back to him. “I mean, I guess that’s amazing too.”

“And her bed is so soft!” Scorpia started to clamber the steps after Bow. The camera followed her up, bouncing up and down with each step. “It’s not hard in the least.”

“That’s actually bad for your back,” Bow pointed out seriously, a grim expression on his face. “It can—” He froze, cutting himself off. His skin paled, blood draining from his face. “Oh no.”

“What?” Scorpia looked at him.

“A guard!” Bow hissed, crouching, and immediately the camera lowered as Sea-Hawk followed suite. “Glimmer will kill us if she finds out. Quick, hide!”

The camera fell to the ground and leaving a sideways view as three pairs of feet scrambled around for a safe spot.

-x-

“Since we saw the Horde’s kitchen, I thought it’d be a great to show you guys ours!” Bow entered a partially empty kitchen, rolling up his sleeves as he did. The camera followed him in, focusing on his hands as he started to pull out platters of chicken and salad from the fridge.

“Ohhhh!” Scorpia leaned against the kitchen counter, eyes wide as she took in everything. The camera lingered on the food before turning to her. “Wow, these look amazing! Even more amazing than the last time I was here.” Turning to the camera, she elaborated happily. “Guys, there’s so many different kinds of food here—fountains of chocolate, white things as soft as your pillow, and this food that’s so cold it freezes your brain.” She ticked off each item with her fingers. “You all have to try it.”

“Marshmellows and ice cream are great,” Bow agreed, looking for plates now.

“I personally like a good drink,” Sea-Hawk interjected, sighing happily. “Nothing like sitting on a boat, drinking away your sorrows as it burns.”

“You burn them down,” Bow pointed out, glancing over his shoulder. “You created that sorrow.”

“It’s still a sorrow,” Sea-Hawk argued, wiping a tea from his eye. “A true tragedy.”

“Hey, this is from those funny little birds, right?” Scorpia asked, picking up a slice of chicken. When Bow nodded, bemused, she asked, “Can they talk?”

“They’re birds, they don’t talk,” Sea-Hawk replied immediately. “At least not to us. And not on land.”

“They are just normal animals,” Bow added helpfully. “Though I guess they could talk, and oh my god, what if we’re destroying future Swift Winds? What if—”

The camera cuts off quickly.                                                 

-x-

The last of the footage faded to black. Glimmer felt her jaw drop as the credits rolled most of them thanking Sea-Hawk. This was supposed to be a promo video to encourage peace. This was supposed to be a little cheesy but decent.

Even her worst expectations were better than this. There were so many things she could say after watching that monstrosity, but none of them seemed right.

The only certain thing was that she couldn’t use any of it.

[omgsomeonesomewhereonearth]

your eyes look like coming home

The five times Patton asks Janus to marry him. 

Moceit, childhood best friends to lovers💙💛

Content Warnings: alcohol, light angst

Aaa this is my first fic in a million years or something. It’s kind of short and maybe not my best work, but I’m honestly just happy to have written something lol - hope you enjoy!

AO3 Link

The first time Patton asks Janus to marry him, it’s a dare.

“Hi! Do you wanna be married?”

Janus stares blankly at the nervous-looking kid in front of him, fiddling with the sleeves of his grubby school cardigan as he stared back at Janus, through large, almost owlish glasses.

He’s confused for a second, then he looks over the kid’s shoulder, and sees the familiarly smug faces in the background, smirking and whispering like they’ve just seen something very funny.

He looks back at the kid – he’s new, just joined last week. Named Patrick or something. He didn’t seem like he’d be involved with the mean kids, with his big, nervous brown eyes and fidgety behaviour. His soft, round face holds a nervous grin as he looks earnestly back at Janus, who’s now glaring exclusively back at the ones watching them

“Why?” he finds himself saying, instead of no.

The boy – Peter? – flushes a little, looking at his feet.

“Um – well -I it’s er, it’s the game.” He gives the explanation like he’s asking a question, prodding the playground floor with his scuffed trainers. “We’re playing, they said – er, I need to find someone to say yes and marry me – but it’s just pretend though – and um, so…”

Ah, so they were both being made fun of.

“They don’t want to play with me.”

The boy’s face falls instantly. “Why not?” he asks, tilting his head to one side. Janus glances at the group, still smirking superiorly at him and – Paul?

“Because.” He snaps, not entirely unkindly, “Go find someone else to ask, or they won’t want to play with you either.”

The boy looks crestfallen for a second, but a look of determination overtakes his face, small mouth forming into a thin, angry line.

“Then I don’t want to play with them.” He declares with a toss of his curly head, sitting himself down next to Janus on the playground floor.

The flock immediately stops smirking, muttering furiously to one another.

“That’s not a good idea…”

“Don’t care.” The boy thrusts a small, chubby hand out at him. “I’m Patton.”

 ---

 The second time, it’s a joke, but also a promise.

They’re sitting on opposite ends of Patton’s cramped twin bed, doing everything but the homework they wanted to meet up to solve, and Janus is pretending he’s not all too aware of their feet just barely touching each other.

“Hey, do you remember that time I asked if you would marry me?” Patton giggles, a sudden mischievous look taking over his face, dimples popping in and out as he looks back at Janus.

“Oh, you mean the first thing you ever said to me?” Janus replies airily, swelling with pride as Patton laughs even harder, scrunching his nose up in delight.

“You know, you never gave me an answer.”

Janus’s heart skips a beat. No it doesn’t, shut up .

His laugh is carefully nonchalant as he replies, “What do you mean?”

“Well, you never said! Would you marry me or not?” Patton laughs, “You’ve kinda left me hanging for years, if you think about it.”

He’s joking. This is a bit, Janus knows that. it doesn’t stop his traitorous heart from beating just that much faster as he smirks back.

“Sure, why not?”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Certainly, in like fifty years when we’re both old and lonely and we’re the only ones who can stand each other.”

He doesn’t believe it, obviously. He knows that he and Patton will always be together, but he doesn’t believe for a second that Patton won’t find someone, with his unbearable kind heart and his wide, honest eyes, and whoever it was would be damn lucky.

Patton laughs in delight at his response. “Ha! Sounds like a plan! Ooh – hold on!”

And then he’s jumping off the bed, going to rummage in his desk drawers.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Celebrating our engagement properly! Be patient!”

And then he’s kneeling next to the bed, smiling cheekily up at Janus, a length of pale blue ribbon in his hand.

“What is that?”

“Shut up, I don’t have a ring.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Hand!”

So, Patton ties the ribbon in a neat bow on Janus’ ring finger and kisses it quick before leaning back to gaze at him in satisfaction.

“There. Now you’re stuck with me no matter what.”

Janus doesn’t tell him that was going to happen regardless.

  ---

 Neither of them likes to talk about the third time.

Janus shoves his way past the teeming crowd of drunk dancers, craning his neck to spot a crop of dark curls or a pastel jumper. Goddamnit .

He wasn’t supposed to leave Patton’s side, he had suggested coming out here tonight as a way of cheering Patton up, and it had been working, until he had walked in, complete with brand new attractive arm candy, and…

Fuck.

He finally finds him out in the empty garden, clutching a beer can that looks to be mostly empty, staring blankly at the sky. He’s not actively crying, but as Janus walks over, he can make out the tear tracks on his face even in the dark.

So he’s definitely seen them.

“Patton?”

“Hey, Janus.” His voice is subdued, and there’s a slight slur to the words.

“I’m so sorry, Pat,” He starts, “If I’d known he’d be here...”

“It’s ‘kay Jan, ‘m fine,” Patton reassures in a way that is not reassuring at all. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes and it’s painfully brittle, like it might shatter into a thousand pieces any minute. Recently, Janus has seen that smile a few too many times for his liking.

“Patton, no.” he replies firmly, but gently, “You’re drunk and heartbroken, and I’m at least partially responsible for that. I’m going to take you home.”

But drunk Patton is somehow even more stubborn than sober Patton can be at times, and he shakes his head resolutely.

“Janus, no.” he pouts, “ ‘m not that drunk, an’ ‘m not…not sad, an’ I don’t wanna go home.” He nods clumsily, having made his point, and then proceeds to stare blankly at the sky again.

Janus sighs.

“Well, then I’m drunk. And sad. And I need someone to take me home.”

Ever more attentive to other’s needs than his own, that gets Patton’s attention, the beautiful idiot that he is. Slowly, he nods and clambers to his feet, gripping Janus’ hand.

Neither of them drives, and Patton’s place is closer, so Janus walks them there, Patton clinging firmly to his side every step of the way. Janus can’t tell if it’s for balance or comfort.

When he gets them both inside the flat, Patton’s first words are, “Don’t leave.”

He gazes up at Janus with red-rimmed eyes, “I don’t like bein’ here alone.”

Janus’s heart aches at that, and he nods. He’d always found it hard to say know to Patton, especially when he’s like this, and especially when he asks for so little as it is.

Similarly, he can’t bring himself to refuse Patton’s beseeching gaze when he tucks him in and moves to sleep on the couch. So, a few moments later finds them in bed together, Janus staring at the ceiling and wondering how Patton can’t hear his heartbeat. They’ve shared a bed before, of course. But not in a long time. Certainly not since Patton started seeing him .

“I saw them, you know.”

He does know. “Really?”

“Mm. D’you think he loves him?”

Janus sighs, “I don’t know, Patton.”

“D’you think he loved me?” Patton’s voice is so soft, so resigned, so plaintive that Janus damn near breaks.

“You know I can’t answer that, Patton.”

“Sometimes I think he didn’t.” Patton admits matter-of-factly, “I tried so, so, hard, but he just didn’t. Ever. I wonder if anyone ever really will.”

There’s a scrap of faded blue ribbon tied on the end of Janus’ keyring that answers that question, but Janus doesn’t bring it up. He doesn’t have to.

“You know I know you’re not really drunk. Or sad.” Patton turns to look at him, his eyes gentle and frank.

“Yeah?”

“You’re jus’ lookin’ out for me. Like you always do. D’you remember that time I said we should get married when we’re all old an’ stuff?”

He doesn’t trust himself to speak. “Hmm.”

Patton smiles wanly. “I wish we could jus’ do that now. We’d jus’ have each other an’ it wouldn’ matter if no one loves me ‘cause I’ve got you.”

Their faces are inches apart and Janus has never wanted anything more than he wants to kiss Patton right now, to kiss his tears away and tell him he’d never be alone, because Janus wouldn’t let him – but he can’t. For a variety of reasons.

“Go to sleep, Patton.”

  ---

 The fourth time, it comes out of nowhere.

It’s two – three? Some godforsaken hour of the morning and Janus has work tomorrow.

And for some reason, his delightful boyfriend has decided that it is a perfect time to be awake and shuffling around to sit up in bed, and turn his bedside lamp on.

“Janus?” he whispers his name like he thinks it might break in his mouth, and God, Janus loves him, but he needs him to shut up and go to sleep right the hell now. He doesn’t move or open his eyes, lying with his face half buried in his pillow despite feeling Patton’s gaze on his back.

“Janus, sweetie?” he whispers again, “Are you awake?”

“… No. ”

“I’m sleeping. Can’t hear you. Zzzzz…”

Patton huffs out  a soft laugh. “I think we should get married.”

Janus stiffens. What? They’d barely been dating two months, they hadn’t even talked about marriage – at least, since they’d been dating. He had no idea it was on Patton’s mind, how long had he…

And more importantly, why was he bringing it up now?

Apparently taking his stunned silence to be outright rejection, Patton tries to backtrack quickly.

“I know, I know, it’s not been very long and I totally understand if you don’t want to because it’s too soon.” Janus feels a gentle hand rest itself on the blanket right above his shoulder, “I wasn’t really thinking of it either, but I couldn’t sleep just now and I couldn’t stop thinking, you know, about us, and you remember when we were kids, and all that stuff we always joked about, and how even though we’ve not been dating that long we’ve been together basically forever.”

He trails off, giggling self-consciously.

“And then you did something really cute in your sleep, you like, cuddled up to me and it hit me now I don’t think I ever want this to end.”

Janus finally sits up and faces the love of his life, who is looking back at him with a gaze that can only be described as besotted.

“I really love you, Janus. I want to be married to you.”

With a small, knowing smile, Janus leans forward and cups Patton’s face in his hands.

“Patton. Angel. Darling. Light of my life. I love you too.”

“I…”

“…And that is why I categorically refuse to let you propose to me while you’re wearing your Winnie the Pooh pyjamas. Please let me sleep now, and I promise I will say yes no matter how you ask me next.” And with that, Janus places a kiss on the end of his boyfriend’s nose, turns around, and falls asleep.

  ---

 The fifth time is more or less perfect.

Well, he says more or less. Patton is perfect, in a neatly pressed pastel button-down, his curls bouncing in the gentle spring breeze despite all his valiant efforts to tame it.

Janus has made an effort to look his best as well, having had a feeling something special was coming. He hadn’t mentioned it of course, but with the way Patton had been jumping up and down in his seat as he drove them here, the way he had insisted on planning every aspect of this date himself – well.

Suffice to say his future husband had never been the best at keeping secrets.

The location Patton’s picked had certainly been perfect, atop a lush green hill with the kind of majestic cherry blossom tree you only see in romantic movies, pink blossoms practically dripping off its branches as they swayed in the wind, and beautiful rolling hills all around.

What isn’t perfect is when the two of them finally get comfortable on the hilltop, and Janus leaning against the wide tree trunk while Patton gets to unpacking the picnic he’s put together so meticulously, and it starts raining, almost instantaneously.

“I checked the forecast like three times, it was supposed to be clear skies!” Patton whines back in the car once they’ve finished packing up their things and run to safety, watching the light drips of rain get slowly heavier.

“I’m sorry dearest, I suppose the universe just doesn’t want this date to be.” Janus chuckles wryly, as he hands Patton’s dried glasses back to him.

“Eff the universe,” Patton grumbles, glaring adorably at the raindrop speckled windshield.

So, they play old love songs on the car music player and drink champagne and tuck into entirely too cute bite-sized picnic foods and talk and laugh and playfully flirt and point out constellations formed by the raindrops on the glass, and eventually, Patton stops pouting.

The conversation has slowly wound down and they’re quietly enjoying each other's company when he turns to Janus, taking a deep breath.

“God knows I’ve never been able to keep anything from you.”

“Why, whatever could you be talking about, my dearest?”

“…So, this probably isn’t a surprise to you in the least.”

Patton reaches into the picnic basket and pulls out a small box. It’s a pale yellow, tied in in blue ribbon.

“You’re my best friend, Janus,” his hands are steady, but his voice is already wavering, “You’ve always been here, my whole life, whether I need someone to help, or to talk to, or even just to cry at. I’ve loved you in so many different ways.”

Janus feels tears pricking at his eyes and blinks them away quickly; he refuses to miss a second of this, he wants the image of Patton’s earnest, loving face to be clear as day in his mind when he looks back on this whenever.

“..And I don’t ever want us to stop loving each other, so, hopefully for the last time ever, will you marry me?”

He laughs breathlessly and takes the box, delicately undoing the ribbon. It’s a cupcake.

A tiny, perfect cupcake with frilly blue icing, a golden ring in the shape of the tiniest coiled snake in the world, embedded in the icing.

“Do you like it?” Patton asks hopefully.

Janus surges forward to kiss his fiancé for the very first time.

Taglist: @ent-is-undecisive @disney-princess-patton

[otakween]

Digimon Adventure (Blind watch) - Episode 1

Oh snap, my first long haul series! I've decided that when I get to these mega-franchises I will watch them simultaneously with other shows so I don't get stuck on one series for an eternity (lol). In other words, I'll still be working on I'm Standing on a Million Lives as my "main" series, but Digimon will be my secondary...probably for years considering how long it is (gulp).

I have never, ever seen/played/done anything with Digimon. My history with the series is that I watched one episode at a friend's house in elementary school and was totally lost. I remember there was a cocoon lol. Excited to dive in head first!

I watched this first episode twice, first in dub-format and then sub. The dub was very cringe and the whole time watching it I was hyper aware of the fact that a ton of the dialogue was not in the original script. I see the nostalgic appeal, but I'll be sticking with the sub. The sub has better music, a better script, better sound effects, etc. (I got really excited that there was an insert song already haha). Anyway, my thoughts about episode 1 below the cut!

Notes:

-This show only appears to be available legally as a dub, so I guess there's not a lot of demand for the sub? Either way, you gotta watch it in the 4:3 aspect ratio, which is totally fine, just a pain in the butt when I want nicely cropped screenshots.

-One thing I liked better about the dub is that they have MC dude narrating the episode, in the Japanese it's some random adult man, which just feels kinda like clumsy exposition. The narration in the dub also had more personality (although the line "she's pretty cool...for a GIRL" was pretty cringe).

-Very nice, although kinda low-budget watercolor backgrounds are fun to look at. I think the character designs of the humans are pretty good too, definitely memorable (although there's a ton of characters to learn at once, which I found overwhelming).

-Watched the opening twice and it still makes zero sense. The weather is wacky and then they get sucked into the digital world via a wave? What does weather have to do with anything and why is there a wave when they're in the snow?? I just don't see how weather phenomenon ties into the digital theme, but maybe they'll explain later.

-Joe/Jyo is totally 90s Iida loool. Calls everyone "kun" and just has Iida vibes in general.

-Despite all of the Americanization, it's interesting how they mostly kept everyone's Japanese names, especially the mons? Props for not dumbing it down, I guess. Definitely sets it apart from Pokemon a bit.

-Don't really like the cutaways to each mon's stats. It's like they're inserting a wiki page directly into the show and it kinda breaks immersion.

-The digimon are kinda stupid-looking as babies, but if you consider that like "level 0" of their evolution chart, it makes sense that they would look as simple as possible. I don't really like how the evolutions don't always make sense like they do in Pokemon though. Like Koromon looks like a bunny but Agumon looks like a dinosaur. What? Who came up with these random ass designs?

-If I had to pick a fave mon from this episode, I think Patamon is pretty cute. Tokomon was hideous though so I'm conflicted haha.

-In the dub Kuwagamon had this really obnoxious roar that was not in the original episode. In the sub he makes this clicky beetle noise which makes so much more sense. Reminds me of how they made the shark roar in one of the Jaws movies.

-Weirdest line in the dub was when Koromon said "we're not just Digimon we're also...kinda cute!" haha so scuffed.

-The fact that the kids are instantly emotionally bonded to these blobs that they met 2 seconds ago really annoyed me. Taichi is all like "Koromon! Don't be a hero!!" and I'm like, you should still be in the "WTF" stage not the "BFFs" stage.

-Weirdly nostalgic for the Japanese Digimon opening because it was in the Kumikyoku Nico Nico Douga song remix back in the day. Can't wait to finally learn the lyrics!

[refriedweeb]

Dude can I please ask for some Shinsou with a reader that is really into fashion and has a very ecstatic personality. Like their the complete opposite of him 🥺👉👈. I imagine a scenario where she makes him play sum like dress up and just makes him give opinions on her outfits 😌. Also she is def an alt girl and def drags him around the mall and picks out outfits for him and makes him try them on. He absolutely hates it but the look on her face is too much to not simp for 😌 (continuing this-)

@bagel-bee : Like I just headcanon him to be such an Emo simp for his gf 😌 no matter what kinda person they are❤️ and I’m so sorry I went on a rant there- I have a deep soft spot for him 🥺 so it would mean the world to get headcanons of Shinsou with a fashionista gf or something like that 🥺 thank youuuu ❤️❤️

A/N: okay this is absolutely TRUE and I’m going to have so much fun with this. As someone else who has this sort of personality/approach to fashion/a major soft spot for Shinsou I get u bb.

If you had told Hitoshi that he’d wind up dating a girl who was his complete opposite in most aspects, he would have just rolled his eyes and walked away. Little did he know that a short while after that statement had been made, he’d have met you. His little diva, he liked to call you. In most sense of the word, you and Shinsou wouldn’t have been compatible if you’d written it down on paper. You were bubbly and outgoing, had tons of friends that you loved being able to spend time with. Your disposition was always been cheery. It’d confused him at first, for sure. There’s no way someone is that happy all the time. Before you two had even started dating he’d watch you from his spot in the classroom. And that was when Shinsou had started to realize that a lot of your cheery disposition came from wanting others to be happy too. You wore a lot of broad smiles for other people’s benefit, even if you weren't feeling the happiest yourself.

And that was something that Shinsou had been intrigued by.

You started talking more and more, the two of you like a cat and dog next to one another. Most people didn’t think you’d be friends long, and when you started dating even more people had been surprised that the two of you had anything in common besides your sometimes matching hair (you weren't afraid to experiment with bold colors and even had a fondness of shades of purple much more before you’d met Hitoshi) He’d let you drag him around the mall by the hand, you practically tripping over yourself while he lagged behind, languid strides almost outpacing you despite how you were skittering around in front of him. It’d become something of an outing for the two of you, you eager to look at the new fashions that came with each turn of the season, Shinsou plopped down in one of the chairs outside the fitting room with his chin propped in his hand while you tried on outfit after outfit, awaiting his approval or disapproval based on the small changes in his expression.

Frankly, Hitoshi thought you could wear a ratty old trash bag and still be the cutest person he’d ever seen in his entire life. He’d sit through the fluorescent lights that gave him headaches, held your purse while you combed through racks of deep shades of maroon, black, of army greens that he thought you looked best in. Though his guiltiest pleasure was when you’d put on the colors of baby pinks and lavenders (not that he’d ever tell you that because the power you’d have over him then would be absolute and he’d be helpless to do anything).

And even though he’d grumble about it, pull a stink face the entire time you’d trapped him in it, Shinsou secretly loved it when you pulled him into a dressing room and told him to stay put while you go picked out clothes for him. He was your emo simp boyfriend after all, there were only so many black and white striped long sleeves you could stand to see him in (though he looked just as cuddly and sleepy in every single one when he pulled the sleeves up around his knuckles). Over the time you’d been dating Shinsou, you saw the change in his confidence. He’d stand a little taller in something you bought him for a gift, start to explore his own sense of fashion (though never quite as extensively as yours) and what he liked. He’d always prefer wearing a pair of sweats and a loose t-shirt when lounged around the UA dorms or in your apartment, but he gradually started to care more about what he wore and how he presented himself to the world, especially when he became a pro-hero. 

Some of his favorite memories of your relationship is at the mall in various stores he never cared to learn the names of. That sleepy smirk shifted over his lips each time you yanked back the dress room curtain with a new outfit on that made you look better than the last outfit did (how that was possible, he never figured out). He loved seeing you happy, thriving in an element of your life that you felt most comfortable in. Just like, picture it. Tall, gangly Shinsou that had just recently bulked up during his training with Aizawa, sat back in a chair with his ankle crossed over his knee. Sneakers kind of scuffed, the bottom of his pants cuffed (thanks to you). His head is tilted to the side, indigo eyes fixed on that curtain with the laziest Cheshire Cat grin on his face when it whips back and you’re standing there in a pair of ripped up black pants, a mesh long sleeved top underneath a cropped tank top with the red lettering of devil on the front. He’s tickled with how good you look, and how you put these shows on just for him (not really but he likes to think that sometimes).

However...

Hitoshi’s favorite thing to see you wear isn’t some outfit you tried on while he sat hostage in a chair, though he does appreciate those outfits just the same. His favorite thing for you to wear is something of his, a ratty old t-shirt with his too-big socks on your feet, maybe a pair of his boxers that he’s been missing for sometime (that he doesn’t have the heart to demand back regardless of how many clean pairs he has left). That’s when you look your best. 

[soudam-appreciation]

Carousel (3)

Kazuichi further zipped his jacket from its current chest level to his chin. He shivered, taking long strides to keep up with Gundham. They had entered the event with no trouble whatsoever, and Gundham had received a congratulatory look from the man at the ticket booth. Gundham didn't want to answer why, but Kazuichi thought it was likely because he had witnessed Gundham waiting.

"What attraction would you like to visit first?"

"Hm? Oh- well, I've never really been to something like this before... what stuff is there to do?"

Gundham paused and made a wide sweeping motion, gesturing to the rows and rows of flashing lights and temporary structures that surrounded them. Kazuichi turned in a wide circle, eyes catching on nearly every sign. He had been so focused on not bothering Gundham that he hadn't paid any attention to the actual attractions. Turning back to the way they had come, he looked down the row of nothing but food trucks and booths.

Kazuichi inhaled deeply, a sweet scent drawing his attention. He stopped his odd rotation, turning to face the stand that seemed to be the source. Said source seemed to be yet another brightly flashing booth, advertising lemonade, hot dogs, and... funnel cake? His mouth watered, and he wondered what real carnival funnel cake tasted like.

Gundham noticed Kazuichi's draw. Turning the same way he was facing, he too noticed the stand. Glancing back and forth between Kazuichi and his focus, he tucked a hand into his pocket.

"Would you like one?"

"Huh?" His attention snapped back to Gundham, startled out of his deliciously scented trance.

"Would you like one?" Gundham fished for his wallet.

"Oh, well, I mean, y-you don't have to-"

"Would you?"

Kazuichi didn't quite know why, but he said, "I- I mean, yeah..."

. . .

Gundham nearly marched to the stand window, stomach in knots. He had no idea what his goal was, or why he essentially forced his "date"- no, no no no- his "friend" to agree to eat garbage carnival food. He simply had the uncontrollable feeling that he should be purchasing something for the mortal he was visiting with.

He held his place in line behind a tall woman with dark hair, shaved short on both sides, and a shorter, rounder girl with cropped red hair. Ignoring their lovestruck chatter and discussion of what to order, he turned his focus to the menu posted on the side of the construction. He selected a "fresh-squeezed" lemonade and Pespi Cola™, both for his companion. For himself, he decided upon a mere water.

Then the odd couple before them had moved on, and it was Gundham's turn to order. Preparing to express in his usual way whilst also coming across clearly and concisely, he stepped up to the window. The hot, sticky, syrupy air rolled over him from within the edifice, and he resisted the urge to gag.

"Hey, what can I get for ya?" The woman inside was a plump one, eyes shining with the fake luster of customer service. Her cornrowed braids were pulled to the crown of her head, and her large hooped earrings jingled softly.

"Ah, yes, pardon, but may I request one Lemonade, one Pespi Cola™, one water, and one... funnel cake?" His voice trembled, and he cursed his unreliable social anxieties.

The woman, however, was completely undisturbed. Her hands tapped away at a small tablet before her as she entered Gundham's total order. "And what  kinda topping on the funnel cake?"

Blinking, he took a quick moment to recover from the unexpected question. "Pardon?"

"What kinda topping on the funnel cake?" Noting Gundham's sheer confusion, she clarified further. "We have chocolate, caramel, cherry, and apple."

He stuttered a bit, stumbling on his words. Where is Souda? It's his dessert! He turned quickly, almost running headfirst into the boy standing directly behind him. On second glance, it seemed Souda had followed him to the vendor and was now cowering behind him. "Ah, Souda. Chocolate, caramel, cherry, or apple?"

"Huh?" Souda simply stared at him, eyes round with the same confusion.

"Topping on the confectionary. Which of the four would please you, chocolate, caramel, cherry, or apple?"

The mortal's face lit with understanding before wonderment took hold. Gundham briefly wondered if the boy had ever consumed the fried monstrosity they called 'funnel cake'. "Oh, um, could I maybe get caramel?"

Sighing, he nodded. "That would be precisely the reason I asked you." Then, mumbling, "Why would I offer it if it was simply out of the question?" Returning focus to the woman in the booth, he raised his tone again. "Caramel, then."

"Ok, gotcha!" She tapped a few final times, then offered his total. He paid quickly, as the heavy cloud of sickening sweetness that enveloped the cart was gnawing at his stomach. Taking his printed receipt, and thanking the woman with one final high-pitched squeak, he stepped back to wait.

. . .

Kazuichi's (clearly irradiated) taste buds met the sweet sticky caramel, and the deep-fried dough melted in his mouth. He hadn't expected it to taste as good as it smelled, but by the Gods, it delivered. The caramel sauce was rich and thick, drizzling softly across the twisted mess of pastry beneath it. The cake itself was crisp and, well... cakey.

He had difficulty walking while he experienced this new delicacy, and Gundham looked mildly annoyed at the slowness of their pace before suggesting they make their way to one of the many picnic-type seating areas scattered around nearby the food trucks.

Kazuichi also had difficulty taking small bites of this delicious treat and easily devoured around half the dish before instinctively offering Gundham a large bite as well. He waited a moment, plastic fork outstretched, as he slowly noticed Gundham's expression. When he finally did notice his look of obvious confusion, shock, and embarrassment, he quickly lowered the utensil, face reddening almost instantly.

"Ah- uhm- uh... s- sorry... I kinda..." He set the fork back on his plate, reflexively reaching up to fidget with his braid. "I kinda forgot we d-don't... we don't hang out th-that much..."

Gundham coughed quietly into his scarf, which he had tugged up over his nose. "I-It's alright..."

Kazuichi felt heat flooding his head and chest, mortification pooling near his heart like lead, making it hard to breathe. He just did something that stupid, huh?

. . .

Gundham found himself staring intensely at a grime spot on the picnic table, scarf softly scuffing against his cheeks. His mind was spinning a million miles a second, although he wasn't entirely sure why. His heart raced, and when he tried to focus on the feelings and rationalize them, he found he couldn't gather the correct words for it. It was as if the thought of eating after a mere mortal, specifically that mortal, was what was causing his confusion and embarrassment.

He tried to avoid looking too intensely at Souda as he finished consuming the fried thing. As he finished the grease-saturated confection, Gundham rose and offered to take the disposable tray. This offer came in the form of him holding out his unbandaged hand, waving it around a bit to get the boy's attention, and mumbling something incoherent into his scarf. Obliging, Soda handed him the tray, turning his attention to the lemonade and taking several large gulps.

Heading toward the nearest trash receptacle, he walked quickly, utilizing his long legs to the best of his ability. He still wasn't sure to what stimulus his emotions were responding, but it hardly mattered. He tossed the soiled cardboard into the trash, taking several steps back from the stench before taking a deep breath. He inhaled from his stomach, pushing all dizzying thoughts from his mind. Or, trying to, anyway. He was still a bit too close to the trash, and the strength of the smell invaded his lungs with every inhalation. Coughing a bit to clear his airways, he turned around and began to wander slowly back to the table.

However, it seemed Souda had begun to follow after him. Not expecting him to be so close behind, Gundham stumbled back the slightest bit.

"Ah! Sorry, didn't mean to startle you!"

"I- Pardon, it's no trouble." Gundham dismissed the apology with a wave, briefly hoping his face had ceased its embarrassing fluster. Hoping to direct them elsewhere, away from the stink of sugary carnival food and garbage, he said, "Perhaps we could wander elsewhere, to other possible attractions?"

Nodding vigorously, his tangled curls and braid bouncing, Souda displayed unsurmountable excitement. Zest for life. "Yeah! I wanna see what other cool things there are!"

As the two made strides towards the rest of the hundreds of structures, Souda turned to face Gundham once again. "I uh, I just wanna say thanks. For the food and stuff. It was super good, and also really nice of you to get stuff for me." He stumbled, having tripped while walking backward, and promptly turned around again. This was, of course, lucky for Gundham, as he was once again drawing his scarf towards the moon.

. . .

Kazuichi bounced from booth to booth, staring wide-eyed at all the bright colors and stuffed prizes. He wasn't sure he'd be good at any of the games, but he desperately wanted to win a prize. Preferably a big one. He didn't want it for himself as much as he felt like he needed to repay some insurmountable debt to Gundham, who had given him the real Funnel Cake Experience™.

He looked high and low, ping-ponging between the duck grabs to the ring toss to the dartboards and all else in the area. Gundham walked slowly behind him, allowing adequate time to jump back and forth as they moved through the fair. However, despite his searching, Gundham seemed to find the perfect gift before he did.

. . .

Gundham stalled before a silly racing game, the kind powered by water guns. He looked up, attention captured by the biggest prize available. It was an overly cute, very round hamster holding a strawberry half its size. It was absolutely ridiculous. And Gundham loved it.

Of course, he would never admit to loving it. He was a dark character. He chanted rituals and spells in the dark of night! He controlled entire worlds, and would soon conquer this one as well!

So obviously, he would never tell anyone about the way its large round eyes melted his heart, or how the soft, full cheeks reminded him of... that boy. How its tiny paws holding that ridiculously sized strawberry sparked so much joy. Or about how much he wanted to squeeze it to his chest and feel the plush fur against his face. No, he would never tell a soul.

Souda, however, had seemingly noticed the foolish god standing completely still before the booth. He must have tracked his gaze, which was very much focused on the large, round, soft plush hamster.

. . .

Kazuichi smiled, poking Gundham in the shoulder. "Whaddya think of that one?" He pointed directly at the round rodent that Gundham was fixated on.

Spluttering, Gundham took a step back. "I-It's-" He steeled his gaze, glaring at Kaz ferociously. "It's ridiculous." He crossed his arms over his chest, trapping his scarf against it. He shrugged his shoulders, wriggling a little bit to loosen the fabric.

"Really?" Kazuichi turned back to the booth. It seemed like just the kind of guilty pleasure a so-called "dark overlord" would like. he spun on his heels to face Gundham again. "I think it's kinda cute. Reminds me of you," he added, intended to be a completely separate statement.

Realizing the implications of his words far too late, Kazuichi watched in a blend of terror and embarrassment as that simple statement registered slowly on Gundham's face. His eyes widened, and he turned his attention to studying the rouge gravel on the ground. Hot blush raced to his cheeks, spilling across his nose and forehead. His hand once again flew to his scarf, and he yanked the front up almost past his eyes. He coughed, tension flowing thickly between them.

After a few more panicked seconds, Kazuichi scrambled to correct himself and promptly tumbled over his tongue. "I- I mean- not the cute part- reminds me- I mean... the- like, uh, I dunno- shit- I mean, j-just... I didn't mean- cute- I meant... the hamster stuff- cause, you know... you have- y-y'know... hamsters..." He ran his fingers through his hair, tangling it further as he desperately tried to correct himself. Tugging his hand from the mess, and wincing at the pains, he shoved his hands in his pockets.

"W-well, if you insist..." Kazuichi glanced back at Gundham as he inhaled, seemingly steadying his voice. "If you desire a factual answer... I do... 'like' it..."

Kazuichi smiled wide, feeling around for his wallet. "Oh, ok! If you like it, then gimme like 5 minutes!"

"Wait-" Gundham seemed confused, but Kazuichi was already gone. He wove through small clusters of other fairgoers, sliding to a halt in front of the game booth. It was a racing game, one where the player must aim a stream of water at the center of a target, thusly causing the car to move forward. He fished out his wallet, handing the money necessary for one play to the attendant.

He lost the first round, complained about being out of practice, and paid again. On the second go, however, he pulled ahead easily and won with almost no difficulty. When prompted for the prize, he looked back at Gundham, grinned, and pointed at the Very Round Hamster.

. . .

Gundham watched in confusion and awe as Souda won a Very Good, Very Round Hamster while playing one of the strangest, most confusing carnival games he had ever seen. Souda's smile was broad as he skipped back over to Gundham, and he held out the plush.

"So? Pretty cool, right?" He was breathing hard from bouncing around so much, and he nudged the fluffy toy into Gundham's chest. Gundham took it in his hands, astonished by the size of it.

It was as big as his entire torso and made of annoyingly soft Minky synthetic. He wrapped his arms around it and squeezed it softly. He had to resist the urge to bury his face in the silky fabric as the stuffed fiend gave way to the perfect amount of plush.

Realizing he had let his guard down, he snapped to attention. The soft smile that had unknowingly appeared on his face was quickly wiped away, and he fought the need to drop the hamster and hide the rose dusting on his face.

"Are you... presenting me an offering?"

Souda's grin fell a tad in confusion. "An offering...? Oh, like a gift. Yeah, it's for you." He slid his hands back into his pockets.

"Oh..." Gundham couldn't hide his smile this time. He ducked behind the plush, hiding his face to the best of his ability.

. . .

Kazuichi couldn't keep the grin from his face as walked with Gundham. Where he almost had to run to keep up with him before, now it seemed the boy had slowed considerably. He was still burying his face in the toy Kazuichi had won for him, and he took that as a sign Gundham really liked it.

They continued walking, seeming to wander toward the space occupied by the rollercoaster and other rides. Kaz had been so distracted by the lights and signs he hadn't realized that was precisely where they were heading. He felt the bottom of his stomach drop to his toes as he thought about going on the rollercoaster.

It was easily one of the most intense rides the little fair had. Even as they were about 300 feet from it, he could hear the screams of its riders. It was a simple coaster, but it had lots of dips, bends, and, worst of all, cameras. The thought of going on such a ride made him nauseous to no end. He unconsciously gripped Gundham's sleeve, just as he began to lower the plush.

"Would you be... interested... in riding one of the other attractions here?"

Kazuichi's attention snapped to Gundham's face, and despite the sinking feeling that overwhelmed him, he asked, "Which one are you thinking about?"

"Well, there aren't too many interesting ones... perhaps the main 'coaster'?" His voice tinged with a strange disgust as he spoke the words, and Kaz got the sense he wasn't the biggest fan of them.

"No- nonono I think I'm good on that one actually. Really, I don't think that one is the best or most interesting one here so maybe... we could just skip that one!" He rushed to get the words out of his mouth, without focusing nearly enough on keeping the rising panic out of his tone.

. . .

Gundham trained his mismatched eyes on Souda's. His voice had shaken as he denied the ride, and Gundham understood that to mean he was truly terrified of it.

Nodding, he conceded that it surely wasn't the best here. He turned around and around, looking from sign to sign for a ride suitable for the two of them. His gaze landed on the carousel.

"Perhaps that one?" He gestured vaguely in the direction of the attraction, and Souda followed.

"The Merry-Go-Round??" His tone was one of confusion, and he read the words off of the sign as if they were entirely foreign to him.

"Yes, that one. It is fairly simple, all it does is turn."

Gundham watched as Souda's tension eased, the fear dripping slowly from his face. He smiled and said, "Yeah, ok! Sounds easy enough!" He laughed, still sounding a bit tense, but not nearly as fearful as before.

They stood in the annoyingly long line for nearly 15 minutes, and they both became restless. Souda had removed the hair tie from his magenta almost-curls and began to unbraid and re-braid his hair over and over, and Gundham had simply fidgeted with the trinkets at the end of his bandage clip, rolling the smooth bead over and over between his fingertips.

When it was finally their turn, Souda had replaced his hair band and buried his hands in his pockets instead. They stepped to the very front of the line as the woman operating the ride said, "There's only one pony left. Are you two riding together?"

Gundham stuttered slightly, glancing at Souda. He also seemed unsure, however, as their eyes caught and they both stumbled.

"Of course-"

"We can wait-"

The words tumbled out in unison, and Gundham choked up more as he corrected his claim to fit Souda's.

"Er, yes, we're riding together."

"Alright, to the left."

They entered the space, placing the Very Soft Hamster in one of the 'personal belongings' bins before following the edge of the attraction to the left as they had been instructed.

They soon came upon a vacant horse, presumably the only one, and stepped up to take their seat. It was a chestnut bay, sporting a  cream-and-rose saddle for two with leather reigns. The pole through it was twisted and worn of its sheen at around hand height, and it was one of the animals that was firmly affixed- it would not rise or fall.

"So this is it, huh?" Souda's voice cut through Gundham's silent assessment of their steed, and he snapped to attention.

"Yes, that is correct." He stepped closer, unsure as to who would be seated in the front, before Souda made the decision for him.

"Can you help me up onto this thing?" He had one hand on the worn pole and the other on the cast saddle. "I dunno how I'm s'posed to..."

"Here, put this foot here." Gesturing to the stirrup, Gundham held out his arm as a support. Souda gladly took it, and lifted himself into the seat. He scooted forward, looking expectantly back at Gundham.

Taking a deep breath, he followed, placing his right foot in the stirrup and swinging his other leg over effortlessly. He had already begun to settle before realizing how close he was to Souda, and that there was nothing to grip to steady himself when the ride would begin.

Glancing over his shoulder, Souda noticed his lack of a handhold. "Hey, aren'tcha worried you'll fall off?" He faced center again, muttering, "I'm worried as it is, an' I've even got these." He wriggled the reigns half heartedly.

Gundham hesitated, then held his breath as he wrapped his arms around Souda's waist. The instant their bodies came into contact, he felt Souda tense as much as he had, before reclining slightly into Gundham's chest.

. . .

Kazuichi was unused to physical touch, but anything was better than falling off a kid's ride at roughly 10 PM. He was made painfully aware of his shoulders pressing into his companion, Gundham's hands resting dangerously near to his thighs as Kazuichi felt his stomach knotting itself into a fishtail braid. He tightened his grip on the leather reigns. He didn't have much time to think about it though, as the ride began seconds later.

It began rotating, very slowly, and the music dulled to accommodate the ride attendant's voice delivering the usual spiel about holding on, keeping hands and feet in the ride, and staying seated. He stayed focused on the horse in front of him, which was white with a gold gilded saddle. Its rider was a younger girl with long dark hair, and he chose to focus on the large crimson bow that pulled her bangs from her face. However, as the ride picked up speed, he found that his eyes began to wander, only recognizing his mistake when he caught the slight blur of the world sliding past...

Oh no.

Facing front yet again, he felt the twisting discomfort rising in his abdomen, curling around his organs like a snake. It wrapped around his ribcage and arms, turning his muscles to gelatin and breaths shallow, before reaching for his skull. Spots started to dance in his vision, the swirling unease constricting his sight and mind. He felt like patterns were tracing themselves beneath his skin, and he unconsciously tightened his grip on the reigns. Leaning back into Gundham, he tried to focus, but the steady and violent sickness rolled his world from side to side, and he made no feeble move to correct it. 

. . .

Feeling Souda go nearly limp in his arms, Gundham felt concern rising in his chest. He held him tightly, reaching one arm for the pole so they wouldn't fall, and leaned in next to Souda's ear to ask if he was alright. Even more worrisome, though not surprising, he shook his head no. His eyes were closed, knuckles white against the reigns, face pale, his usual blush entirely gone. Gundham wondered if there was anything he could do to make him feel better, but knowing the most likely environmental stimulus, there didn't seem to be anything that would help.

Luckily for both of them, the ride began to slow, horses and children together coming to a complete stop. Souda's eyes fluttered open halfway, and he whispered, "Is it over?"

Nodding and assuring him that yes, the ride was over, he began to dismount. When both boots had touched the ground, he held out a hand to Souda, offering the most support he could. Souda thankfully obliged, almost tumbling to the ground in his effort to stand again.

. . .

Kaz stumbled blindly, gripping Gundham's sleeve as he tried to right himself. He felt Gundham place his hands upon his shoulders, and the added support made it a bit easier to stand. Straightening his back the best he could, he allowed his partner to lead him carefully to the exit (but not before they retrieved the stuffed hamster).

As they exited the ride's grounds via the gate, he quietly searched for another attraction for them to visit. However, most of the rides nearby seemed to either be fast or a real coaster. He'd rather not die tonight.

"Do you feel alright?"

Halting, he saw that Gundham had stopped a foot or so in front of him, concern apparent on his features despite him seemingly attempting to hide it.

"Huh? Me?"

"Of course you, who else would I be speaking to?" Annoyance flashed in his eyes, and Kazuichi shrunk slightly.

"You're right, sorry... Yeah, I'm ok. Just got a little motion sick is all." He found himself toying with the end of his braid again.

"I would hardly say 'a little,'" he said, punctuated his words with air quotes around Kaz's. "You looked to be near death."

Kazuichi felt his face heat up again, and he pushed his hands deep into his pockets and scuffed his shoes in the dirt. "I guess so... sorry about that."

Gundham sighed deeply, then turned back to the rest of the fair, as if to drop the matter. Kazuichi took a few steps to stand beside him, and he once again set to surveying for the next event.

"Perhaps that should be next?" He waved his bandaged hand in the direction of the tallest ride by far, the one Kaz had only seen in movies. He was pretty sure it was called a ferret wheel.

"Uh, yeah, sure. Ok." Swallowing hard, he tried to keep the fear out of his voice again, this time very deliberately. He really did want to go on another ride with Gundham, but he wasn't sure he could handle it. The height, not the riding with Gundham.

[avengemebuckyy]

Be Careful

Summary: 

You tell Bucky to be careful with your heart. Too late he realizes you should have been careful with his.

or:

You’re awkward,odd, and not the most conventionally attractive yet you’re the only woman that Bucky sees

Warnings: manipulation 

Authors note: Back from the dead lmao. This is probably trash but I just needed to force myself to finish something it order to try to get back in the groove! Feedback is more than greatly appreciated, it’s what keeps me writing tbh...

PS. You ain’t shit in this lmao

---

You weren’t the most eye-catching. You didn’t look like the girls Bucky used to chase after in his younger years, or the girls on the internet he’d find himself staring at once he’d discovered Instagram, endlessly scrolling through picture after picture, lost in a sea of beautiful bodies and faces. You didn’t look like the tall slim blonde agent he’d always make a point to hold open the door for, or his neighbor’s daughter in Wakanda, who had had dark skin so smooth and a face so perfect he’d never managed to say more than two words to her.

You were slightly awkward, with a slightly odd sense of humor, always cracking jokes that sometimes no one laughed at but you. But you didn’t care, you would laugh at them all the same. You wore baggy clothes, and not the fashionable baggy kind either. Your favorite outfit was baggy camo print cargo pants and an old grey band t-shirt, logo so faded it was almost impossible to decipher.

At first Bucky didn’t pay you much attention. He wasn’t rude, but he treated you with the same gruff stoicism he treated everyone with. Well everyone besides Sam, Steve, and Natasha. Besides he only saw you rarely, you were a high level agent thanks to your skill, but you didn’t work closely with the team very often. Until you did.

One mission with Clint was all it took to have your name thrust forward when Fury was looking to fill a coordinator position. Suddenly you were everywhere. Coordinating their positions on missions, even going on missions with different members of the team. You fit in well with the team, your corny jokes and generally happy disposition make you easy to like. Your apartment was five minutes away, thanks to Tony, so you would often eat breakfast with the team and stay at the Tower well into the night, often crashing in a room designated for you, also thanks to Tony.

You were like a deceptively shallow river Bucky would think after. One minute he was wading through your shallows, next moment he was being taken under by your currents, realizing too late that he was in deeper than he thought possible.

It started slowly, you would make an effort to make conversation with Bucky, never seeming off put by his non answers. Bucky found himself coming to you with numerous questions on how to work social media, you would give such long winded explanations he wouldn’t have to embarrass himself with asking questions. Soon he found himself seeking you out for more than explanations. Funny thing is you were the one who introduced him to Instagram, to the  beautiful women on the app but eventually he found himself unable to see any woman but you.

Bucky found himself sitting with you at lunch, looking out the window in the mornings waiting to catch sight of your army green jacket. He’d sit with you in the afternoons as you did your paperwork, steal glances at you ,your forehead always shiny by midday with an almost ever-present patch of acne, eyebrows scrunched together as you filled out mission reports. He loved those quiet moments the most. Bucky wasn’t good with words, not anymore. But he would help carry the 10 pound boxes of paperwork, always bring an extra pen in case yours ran out of ink, and constantly would bring you your favorite Starbucks order. He secretly hoped that you would read the affection behind his actions.

You didn’t usually go to Stark’s parties, you’d rather go to bars and clubs with your friends.

“The crowd at Stark’s parties just aren’t my crowd,” you’d explained with a shrug, toeing the floor with your scuffed sneakers. Bucky had nodded in understanding. They usually weren’t his crowd either, but he’d always go to support Steve, who was pretty much expected to show face.

But for some reason you show up to this party. Four months into your blossoming friendship (and Bucky’s crush). Bucky wasn’t prepared for what you were wearing. When he heard the agents whispering about your unexpected appearance at the party he half expected to see you in jeans and a t- shirt. Or even your cargo pants. At the sound of your name Bucky zeros into the muttered conversation.

“Did you see her?”

“Yeah, damn.”

“Was not expecting that. Or her to even show up. Who knew?”

“She’s kinda hot, not gonna lie. In a weird way”

Bucky turns his head scanning the crowd, heart rate already picking up, fully expecting to see your sweat-pant clad form. He sees you alright. But not in sweatpants. A red dress barely covers your figure. Hemline way above the halfway mark of your thighs and twin slits in the skirt reaching up to your hips. A draping halter neck ties at your neck and completely exposes your back and gives a generous view of your tits. He catches flashes of the curve of your ass as you walk.

In hindsight the dress was totally in line with your character. You didn’t dress the way you did because you were ashamed of your body but rather because you didn’t give a fuck. Your hair is pinned up, one perfect curl escaping your updo and kissing your neck. Bucky feels his heart stop. He spies numerous heads turning as you languidly weave through the crowd in dangerously thin stilettos. You cozy up to one of your agent friends and the two of you drink, giggle, and dance. Bucky can’t take his eyes off of you.

When you head to the balcony he follows.

“Hey,” you say when you spy his shadow darkening the entrance to the balcony. 

“Hey,” he gruffs, in a tone he fears is too quiet. But looking at the curve of your exposed back suddenly has his voice dying in his throat. You turn back to looking at the city skyline. Bucky steps forward next to you. Close. Closer than he’s ever been to you, painfully aware of your arms brushing. He can’t fully feel your skin through the long sleeve button down he’s wearing but the touch sets him on fire all the same.

“Needed some air. “ He eventually grumbles. Trying not to stare at your profile. You look at him then, wearing a sly expression he had never seen on you.

“I’m sure you did,”

--

After that it doesn’t take long for Bucky to gather up the courage after that. Maybe it’s the way you had looked at him on the balcony or the way both male and female agents were sniffing around you at the party. All the same about a week later Bucky finds himself heading to your office in the afternoon as usual, but this time holding a bouquet of flowers.

Afterwards Bucky falls in love with you hard and fast. He finds himself doting on you, taking you out, bringing you flowers and other tokens of his affection. He hears the whispers, it’s almost impossible not to with his super soldier hearing.

“How’d she’d get him,”

“What an odd couple,”

“The Winter Soldier’s with cargo pants?”

But he still holds your hand in public all the same. Stops in the middle of training recruits to kiss you whenever you happen to cut across the gym all the same. Keeps a picture of you in his wallet all the same.

Bucky has never felt this amount of care and comfort from a person since...ever, even before, in his other life. You put his boots by the heater in the winter when he sleeps over so his feet won’t freeze when he walks to the compound. You listen to him, even when he’s angry, raging at nothing, or when he’s sad and sullen, taking minute long pauses in between sentences. Or even when he wants to do nothing but sit in silence and hold you. You especially listen when his words come fast, tinged with self hatred. You reassure him, holding him like he’s fine china. After many late night musings you give him with the best present he’s ever gotten, an impossibly soft kitten who’s uncharacteristically loud purr always grounds him. Bucky finds himself able to open up with you in a way he can’t with anyone else, even Steve. Bucky’s not good with words anymore, but with you he’s amazing. He can’t stop singing your praises, lavishing you with sweet words and adoration.

In hindsight it was a warning.

“Sweetheart, your wallet must be screamin’ for mercy, with you buying this cake nearly everyday,” Bucky says pinching off a piece of the lemon pound cake which is almost always at the corner of your desk. He recognizes the cake from a bakery across the street, and knows its nearly four dollars a slice. You stretch cracking your back, nipples poking through your shirt. Your ever present band shirt had breathed its last breath, and this new shirt is thinner and cropped, and hugs your body closer.

“Not really, I don’t buy it, Tommy hooks me up” you say, shooting him a smile and then returning back to your paperwork.

“Tommy?” Bucky says, and unbidden hot jealousy sears through his chest at the mention of your coworker “He’s always buying you these?”

“Yeah,” you answer, not looking up, and Bucky tells himself to remain calm, unbothered. 

He doesn’t.

Later after the subsequent fight and make up Bucky holds you as the two of you sit on his bed.

“I’m sorry,” He says again.

“It’s alright,” you say and somehow your simple words draw the truth out of him.

“I’m just...I- I’m afraid of losing you.”

“I’m afraid of losing you too,” you confess, then pause “Bucky, please be careful with me,”

Your relationship was easy, comforting. The two of you almost never fought, and never grew tired of being with each other. One blissful year turned into two and then five. It was like a dream and Bucky never wanted to wake up.

But reality eventually did.

How closely you guarded your phone should have tipped him off. How you’d constantly declined calls while the two of you were together. The way you almost always got ‘too drunk’ on girls night and would end up crashing at your friend’s place.

The first time it’s sixth months into your relationship on a lazy Saturday. The two of you had ordered pizza and planned to cuddle on the couch and have a movie marathon. You were in the bathroom when your phone had vibrated. Knowing that you would get a notification when the pizza arrived Bucky had looked at your phone. Bucky had felt surprised to see the name Dominos instead of an unsaved number pop up on your screen. Your phone didn’t show the preview of the text like his did. Your phone was still unlocked since you had headed to the bathroom but a few seconds ago, so Bucky tapped to open  the text.

Dominos: [Can’t wait to see you again, beautiful]

Bucky’s blood had run cold. He froze, only unfreezing when he realized you were standing next to him.

“We aren’t exclusive!” you had defended.

“What the hell do you mean?” Bucky had growled. At that your face had crumbled, eyes filling with tears.

“You never asked me to be your girl.” you had looked away “We never talked about what we are,”

“Whaddya think we’ve been doing these past months?!” Bucky had yelled back,

“ I don't know. I don’t assume Bucky. Because guys always seem to want to date me, treat me like their girlfriend and then turn around and throw it in my face that they never said I was.” your voice breaks and so does Bucky's anger.  He hadn’t been very verbal with you so far. It’s true he never asked you to be his girl, or even verbally on a date. He just thought you both knew. Guilt fills him at the sight of your tear stained face.

“I’m sorry I was just preparing for the inevitable,” you say and turn away. Bucky grabs your arm and pulls you towards him.

“Well, let me make it clear. I want you to be my girl. I want you to be mine and mine alone.”

Your expression is unfathomable as you wind your arms around his neck.

“I am yours.”

That night you stand in front of Bucky and  wordlessly slip out of your sweatpants and t shirt, rendering him speechless. With reverence Bucky’s hands trace your frame and his mouth follows. That night he worships you.

Later, you wrap your arms around him and whisper 

“I love you,”

 And Bucky knows that he’s done for.

“I love you too sweetheart.” he says, and later still when you’ve fallen asleep Bucky lies awake, stroking the soft contours of your back. He’s done for. And he knows it.

“I’ll be careful,” he whispers.

--

Reality had tried to wake Bucky gently. Through warning signs that should have been loud and clear especially to an ex assassin. But Bucky had accepted your half baked truths and excuses. He was too far gone off of the drug that was your love to heed the warning signs until reality slapped him- no choked him, awake.

His awakening came in the form of the sight of you on your kitchen counter, a man kneeling in between your spread thighs. The flowers he had bought you on his way back from his mission that had ended early drop to the floor. Bucky freezes. But at the sight of Tommy’s face, cheeks slick with you he loses it. Next thing he realizes that he has his hands around your coworkers throat. But your hand on his shoulder drains the fight out of him, and as Tommy scrambles out of the apartment Bucky crumples to the floor and sobs. 

“Why?” He asks and he realizes he’s not just asking about now, but about all the times he’s caught you cheating but didn’t have the strength to leave you. 

“Baby” you say and gather him into your arms. He wants to pull away, thrash, yell, but he doesn’t. He just melts into your touch. You make him weak. And at night when he thinks about your excuses and half truths he hates himself for it.

“Why do you keep doing this to me?” he says, sobs wracking his frame “Five years-did they mean nothing to you?”

“I’m sorry,” you say “I love you,” 

At this Bucky pulls away, standing. “Don’t fucking lie to me.” he hisses.

“I’m not,” you say standing “I might lie all the time but I’m not lying about this.” your eyes go soft at the corners, and start to water.

“No. I love you. I adore you. I’d give you anything-everything and you treat me like shit” Bucky spits, there’s a pain in his chest, his heart is breaking “And I just fucking take it, because you make me so fucking weak- and I hate it” another sob ribs from his chest. A part of him thinks  that this is his punishment. For all of the terrible things he’s done. Cursed to be in love with someone who will never truly love him back. He looks at you, your hair is in disarray, baggy t shirt, those fucking cargo pants around your ankles. He gives a bitter laugh “Who woulda thought that you would’ve been the one to make me weak.”

“Why? Because I’m not pretty?” hurt flashes across your face then your eyes go hard. Usually Bucky would have been quick to refute any self deprecating words, reassuring you how beautiful he found you, how gorgeous you were. But now he just lifts his chin and looks back at you with the same hard eyes.

“Well I know I’m not pretty.” you shrug, face going strangely expressionless “But you still fell for me all the same. More fool you.” you say, and after a moment continue. “We should break up.”

At this Bucky shatters. Because he knows deep down that even after all of this he still would have taken you back. He still wants to grovel at your feet and plead to try to fix your relationship. But instead he decides to finally choose himself and turns and walks out of the door and out of your life.

Year later he still finds himself looking at your picture in his wallet, the one remnant  of you he has left, that he can’t bear to get rid of. On lonely nights where he can’t sleep and can’t stand the coldness of his bed  he’ll trace the curve of your smile and wish that you had cared enough to have been careful with him.

Tags:@stephie-senpai@ayeputita@pixierox101@iamwarrenspeace@ dreamgirljere  @ufffg@pietrotheavenger @trinityjadec@abbytagg@wastedsummerss@turdblossommm@jimmyisfab@sev7en@hottrashformarvel @superbuckytrash@waidewilson@abbytagg @awkwardfangirl2014 @desir-ae

Bucky only @chamongangae@callmebucky-doll

[ikenbar]

Mr. Love: Ike’s Choice Ch2 Pt 7

Warnings: I say the word “hell” as a curse so... cursing?, angst, likely some grammar mistakes, and cliffhangers

AS A HEADS UP: All of the characters in this part, Except Gavin of course, are ones that I’ve made up. Just in case you go looking for them in the game or accuse me of anything. These characters are all made up by me. Except Gavin. But that’s kinda a give in lol

(Chapter two’s prologue, parts one, two, three, four, five, and six here :))

((Please read the author’s note (and the beginning of the story) on chapter one part one if you’re new here :D))

Chapter two:

Part seven:

It had been a couple of days since I had heard from Gavin. After that night I had sent him off with the remaining soup, even though he tried to refuse, and we exchanged numbers. He promised me that he would call and let me know what the next move would be. He hadn’t called. I didn’t even hear him come back from work the next night. I had knocked on his door but no one answered. Gavin could just be doing this to mess with me. Or he got all the information he needed from me and he left me behind… or something was up and Gavin was in trouble. No matter what it was, I had promised myself that if I hadn’t heard from him by the end of the day, I would stop by the station after work. So I did just that. 

I walked up to the front desk and addressed the receptionist, “I’m here to see Officer Gavin. We are working a case together and I haven’t heard from him in a bit. Is he in today?”

“I haven’t seen him come in today.” She answered vaguely, “But I will tell Captain Michaels you are here. He might give you an answer.” I huffed, annoyance growing in my chest, “You are welcome to wait by Gavin’s desk.” The receptionist added with a patient smile, “I’ll let the chief know that he can meet you there.” I sighed and nodded.

I stood at Gavin’s desk anxiously, looking around the room. I had been there for quite a while.  He had to be there. It was a work day. I put my rising nerves to work as I looked through the miscellaneous folders he had there. There wasn’t even a trace of him. No mug of coffee or note. Not even the files on his desk looked recent. There had to be something that would tell me where he was.

“Ike!” A familiar voice pulled my head away from Gavin’s desk. Captain Michaels approached me with open arms. I folded my arms, cutting off any chance of a hug.

“Captain.” I addressed him, masking the worry in my chest with my infamous poker face.

“You’re back so soon!” Captain Michaels dropped his arms but still held a pleasant smile, “How was the mission?” A pit formed in my stomach.

“Mission?” I asked quickly, dropping my arms, “What mission?”

“The undercover mission?” the captain asked slowly, “The one that Gavin asked permission to go on.”

“Undercover?!” I couldn’t believe my ears. Gavin left to the bar without me? What was he thinking? He knew I had the Intel he needed for it! How could he just leave me behind like that?!... How could I have believed that he wouldn’t have done any less?

“He told me he would bring you.” Captain Michaels’ voice became serious, “Did he not tell you?” I felt anger rising in my chest. With no other way to exert it, I punched Gavin’s desk, leaving a large dent in the wood. “...I’ll take that as a no.” Captain Michaels said quietly, “I’ll call the phone I gave him. Maybe he can give us a straight-”

“Don’t bother.” I growled. Self deprecating thoughts crowded my mind. How could I have thought that he had changed? How could I have thought he wanted to change? I was right. He just wanted to use me for my information. He never wanted to be partners. I never should have dropped my guard like that. None of that mattered though. 

“What are you planning to do?” The captain asked. 

“If Gavin doesn’t want me as a partner then so be it.” I moved some files to cover the dent in the desk, “But no one leaves Ikamara Bikira behind and gets away with it. No one.” I brushed past Captain Michaels and marched to the exit.

“Be careful, Ike!” The captain called back, “You might throw the mission!”

“The only thing I’m throwing is Gavin off the roof!!” I called back, slamming the door behind me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Night had fallen by the time I had driven to the warehouse. The area was abandoned except for a large, familiar figure leaning against the wall in the alley. “Well well well.” The figure’s voice was gruff and deep, “If it isn’t the Ikamara Bikira.” 

“Hey, Richy.” I shoved my hands in my pockets as I approached the voice. The figure was a thirty something year old man, dressed in a black zip up hoodie with a white shirt and black tie underneath it. He had black jeans and worn down high tops. He was the gatekeeper for The Wall, Richy.

“It’s been a while!” Richy’s voice was low as he straightened himself against the wall, “Why don’t you visit anymore?!”

“Believe it or not, Richy, I’ve got a life. And a business. And a family. Spending my free time with criminals at the dead of night isn’t the best way to maintain all of that.”

“D’aw, are you saying you don’t trust us?”

“I’m saying that if I spend too much time with you, I’m going to lose it all. And with nothing to hold me back, there would be no stopping me.” I hit each syllable hard to make my point clear to the gatekeeper. The look on his face told me he got the message, “Can I go in? I need a drink.”

“You know the drill.”

I rolled my eyes. “Is this really necessary? You know me by name.”

“No exceptions.” Richy folded his arms and stood powerfully before me, “Password.”

“Open sesame.” I sarcastically answered.

“Password.” Richy insisted.

 "Ugh, fine.” I sighed, “'You can't cuff what you can't catch.'” Richy nodded and knocked the wall behind him. “You know, the term 'password' suggests that it is just one word. Maybe you should say passphrase instead." Richy ignored me as the wall behind him made a loud clicking noise. A large section of the wall was forced backwards, revealing a hallway behind it. Fog flowed dramatically from it as a purple light shone through the alley. "You added fog since I've been gone." I said as I watched the mist swirl around my legs, "Nice touch."

"It was Madison's idea." Richy sounded disgruntled. Chuckles Madison was the owner of The Wall. His father owned the place before him but, after his arrest, it was passed down to his son. Madison tended to be on the more dramatic side and added an edge to the pub that made the atmosphere all the more attractive. He even introduced entertainment to the pub and asked me to perform. Normally I would say no but he offered free drinks. How could I refuse a free drink?

 "I think it brings the place together." I walked closer to the door.

"Are you performing tonight?" Richy asked, stopping me from going in.

"Not tonight. I'm just here for a drink and a conversation with Madison."

"Bummer. It's been awhile since you've been on stage. People have been asking where you have been."

"Maybe next time." I waved Richy off as I walked through the hole in The Wall.

"You'd better do it soon!" Richy called back to me before the doors shut, "Someone might take your title as Champion!"

I rolled my eyes as I walked into the dark room. I pushed past a large veil of beads and was immediately hit with the pungent smell of booze and sweat. Strobe lights flashed past my eyes and loud techno music blasted from every corner of the room. The room was crowded with dancing and intoxicated people. Most were screaming with the music. Others were screaming at each other. Chairs and tables were scattered about the room but none of them were occupied. Everyone was moving. The amount of action that was happening was almost disorienting. It really had been awhile since I had been there.

I pushed past the crowd of people aggressively.  Some looked as if they wanted to protest, but after taking one look at who I was, they wimped out. I approached the bar and waved the bartender over to me. "Well would you look at that!" The bartender said, grabbing a glass as he confronted me, "The Champion returns! You performing tonight?"

"No, I need to talk to Madison." I began to grow impatient, "Have you seen-"

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!" A loud voice boomed from over the speakers, cutting me off and only aggravating me further. The music and the lights shut off entirely and excited chattering moved throughout the crowd, "I KNOW YOU ALL HAVE BEEN TIRED AND BUSY TAKING THE WORLD BY STORM, BUT IT IS TIME TO RELAX! IT IS TIME TO PUT YOUR LEGS UP AND LET US DO THE WORK! IT IS TIME TO BE ENTERTAINED!!"

Spotlights flashed on and lit up the back of the room. A wrestling rink stood glistening under its light. Red ropes outlined the outside of the stage. The floor of the stage was scuffed and dented from the performances that had been made there. In the middle of a stage stood a man sporting a large flamboyant pose while holding a hanging microphone. He was a lean man, dressed in a long fur coat that was dyed bright purple. Under it was a black crop top that matched with tight black tights and huge combat boots. His ears were pulled apart by dramatic gauges and various piercings. His hair was buzzed and bleached blond. His face looked as if it could be porcelain from his flawless makeup. With dark eyeliner and colorful eye shadow that surrounded his bright blue eyes and a glittery dark lip gloss made his lips look like an oil spill, he looked fake. Like a cartoon character who had escaped the television.

"Found him." The bartender leaned close to me and whispered in my ear. He handed me a drink. I glared at him and took the drink as Madison continued his speech.

“Criminals and criminettes, we have a very special surprise for you! Coming all the way from his life sentence in prison, our has-been champion, the towering colossus, Legon!!” The crowd cheered wildly. Something large moved in the dark by the stage. With a few steps into the light, he revealed himself. He towered over most of the patrons at the bar and was able to get onto the stage with one step. This man’s arms and face were covered in scars from past fights but he covered most of them with dark tattoos. He was bald but in the most intimidating way possible.  This man was Legon. He was the bar’s reigning champion until I came along. He was supposed to be in jail for a large list of serious offences. The worst of which being murder. The thought of putting him back in jail teased my mind. Maybe I could show up Gavin one last... 

Gavin. 

The twisted feeling in my stomach returned. He wasn’t anywhere in the bar. Where was he? Did I misjudge him after all? 

“And his unfortunate competitor is our latest addition to the team!” Madison continued and snapped me out of my troublesome thoughts, “On a winning streak, hot from the streets, standing at five nine and holding a punch that could knock out a lion, Solomon!!” Boos swept from every corner of the bar as a man jumped on to the stage. I choked on my drink.

It was Gavin.

He stood proudly on the stage. He wore a tank top, revealing old and fresh scars. His hands were wrapped but I could tell from the way he was holding them that they were tender. His determined expression unsuccessfully masked the exhaustion in his eyes.  Did he really fight all those people? And did he stay all day yesterday to do it? The Wall had fights every five hours. If Gavin had left yesterday morning…

A wave of pure anger flushed over my body. Unable to control it, I broke the glass in my hand. “Woah!” The bartender protested, “Someone’s unwilling to lose their title of champion.” I ignored the bartender and quickly left the bar. “Hey!” The bartender called, “You’ve gotta to pay for that!”

“Put it on my tab!” I shouted back through bared teeth. The bartender visibly recoiled and shut up. I marched to the stage where the warriors were stretching, preparing for battle. A hot feeling burned in my chest as I neared Gavin but it wasn’t the same hot feeling that I had that night we flew together. It didn’t melt my heart the way it did that night. 

It burned it.

 I could feel it shrivel and harden the longer I looked at that stranger standing on the stage. I felt my hands shake slightly under the anger I was holding. I needed to relax. If I didn’t, I would rip off his head. Breathe Ike, breathe. I found myself thinking, It’s probably not what you think it is. I took a long deep breath before tapping on Gavin’s leg. He looked down at me. Our eyes met and the anger I had started repressing rekindled. A glare escaped my poker face.

“Ike?” Gavin was genuinely shocked to see me there. Meaning he really didn’t want me to find him. The burning in my chest slowly started creeping through my body.

“Solomon, was it?” I asked through bared teeth. Gavin looked taken-aback. As if me being angry was alarming to him. Soon the look of surprise melted into an undercernable emotion. He opened his mouth but his voice didn’t leave it.

“What’s this?!” A booming voice came over the loudspeakers, “A surprise competitor?!” Madison skipped over to us with a wide, gapped tooth smile, “Lads and Lasses, our champion has returned!!” A loud cheer swept over the crowd. Madison approached me and held out his hand, ushering me to come on stage. I waved him off.

“I’m not here to fight.” I spoke with determination, “I came to talk to you.”

“You know how it is, darling.” Madison covered the mic so only I could hear him, “You want something from me, you fight.”

“Really?” I rolled my eyes, “Come on, Madison. It’s important!”

“No exceptions!” He grinned wildly, “Pick your competitor!”

I shook my head, “This is serious, Madison. Lives are at stake.”

“She just doesn’t want to compete against me.” Gavin spoke up and put on a phony smile. The way he held himself had changed too. He stood proudly and with his hips at his sides. His grin was cocky and out of place compared to the rest of him. He wasn’t Gavin anymore, he was this supposed Solomon, “She heard about my streak and is afraid of me.”

“Oh ho!” Madison cackled, “Someone’s feeling lucky tonight!”

“Not now, prick.” I said seriously, avoiding his eyes.

“Come on! Why are you being so selfish?” Solomon’s words, though playful, felt like a knife to my back. How could Gavin, of all people, call me selfish?! Does he have any idea what he put at risk by coming here?! By leaving me behind!? He could have died! But he had to leave. He had to abandon me because he was done with me. Because he hated me. Because he was a good for nothing cop. Well, I was done with being left behind. This time, I was going to do something about it.

“Him.” I thrust my finger at Solomon, “I’ll fight him.”

“Wonderful!” Madison sang happily as I jumped onto the stage, avoiding his outstretched hand. Madison turned back to the crowd and brought the mic to his mouth, “There will be a change of plans, folks! Instead of Legon, we have a new competitor! Someone who needs no introduction, The Wall’s reigning champion, Cicatrix!!” The crowd roared with applause as I faced them. 

“Cicatrix?” Solomon held his playful grin as he made eye contact with me. “A bit cheesy, isn’t it?” 

“I’m not going to justify the name that was given to me.” I snapped. I couldn’t seem to stop my jaw from clenching. Solomon seemed to finally catch on to my serious tone.

“You’re... really angry at me, aren’t you?” Gavin returned as he let his guard down. Rage pulsed through my body once again. I closed my eyes and turned away from him as I pushed the rage back in my chest. He didn’t know what he did. He didn’t know how badly he hurt me…

No. 

He didn’t care enough to notice.

 “No more talking.” I could feel the heat of the anger in my heart spilling from my mouth and into my words, “The only thing I want to hear from you is your pleads for mercy.” I pulled my eyes away from him and walked to the corner Legon was in. One look was all Legon needed to hurry out of the ring.

 I stretched as I stood in the vacant corner, hoping that was enough to mask my shaking hands. I tried to keep my eyes from Gavin before the fight but I couldn’t help myself. I snuck a peak at him from across the stage. Gavin was stretching as well but he wasn’t putting much effort into it. He was staring at the floor blankly and… painfully. I rolled my eyes. If he had regret then he shouldn’t have left me behind. I signaled to Madison that I was ready. I finally got the chance to teach someone a lesson about leaving Ikamara Bakira behind and there was no chance in hell that I was going to waste it. 

(Next)

[bitchassbackup]

Take It Off

Word Count: 838 words

Warning/s: 18+, Reader being a tease, swearing, sir kink?, sorry for giving y’all blue balls.

A/N: First smut (kinda)! I hope you guys enjoy :) Requests are open.

Masterlist

“See me in my office after,” Your professor said when he passed through your seat.

“Oh, shit.” You thought. Your mind is racing, did you fail a test? Didn’t pass any requirements? Maybe you did something to pissed him off. Nervous, you complied with his request. Once you’re in the office, you saw Mr. Barnes leaning on his office table. His crisp white shirt tucked into his black pants. Sleeves rolled up to his forearms. You took a deep breath before meekly murmuring a greeting.

“Lock the door and come here.” You did it as you were told, your previous moments ran through your head.

“Did you know that kind of top is not allowed in my class?” He studies your face for a reaction, you mistakenly looked into his eyes, the blue is almost gone, his pupils are dilated. You gulped as you look down to your crop top, it has a slit exposing your chest, and if you chose to, it can expose a bit of cleavage too. You told him no and you apologized.

“Take it off.” He said sternly. His hands gripped the edge of the table, waiting for you.

“Excuse me? I- uh,” you stammered. Your heart beating loudly in your chest.

‘Is he being serious? Are you really going to do it in his office?’ you thought you just misheard him and that flash of uncertainty on your face irritated him; his brows furrowed, he licked his lips and he moved closer to you and repeated his words.

Reluctantly, you took off your top. He looks at you with lust in his eyes. Eyes roaming like a predator, your cheeks are flaming as he scanned your heaving chest. For a moment, you got the courage to ask him what to do next while you move closer to him. “Well, are you just gonna stand there?” You taunted, you knew in the back of your mind that you’ll regret that later. You bit your lip, trying to contain any more sarcastic remarks. You dared to walk into his welcoming legs, his thighs straining against the material, he pulls you in closer and captured your lips. His lips tasted like coffee and mint, his scent is intoxicating. His hands are traveling your body, mapping and groping. He broke the kiss, looking into your eyes he said, “Don’t you have classes to attend to?” You shook your head no and said, “apparently my top is not allowed. I don’t want to get in more trouble, Mr. Barnes,” his breath hitched in his throat, his name sounds so sinful when it falls down your lips. “Or I could just go home and change.” You shrugged. You stood there, between his legs, just wearing your bra and skirt. You can see him struggling to keep his composure. Bucky was still fixated on you, he’s memorizing every detail, every curve, every dip of your body, his breath fans your cheek as you kissed his neck, leaving a lipstick mark. “Do you want me to beg and bend over that table as you take me and wreck in ways only you can think of?” You whispered, your hands traveling down, teasing him.

“Do you want to see me on my knees as I put you-” You gasp as you felt his hand grip your waist tightly, clawing at the flesh. You smirked as you felt him twitching in your delicate hands, the mere thought of you on your knees, being such a good slut for him made him almost come right then and there. “Don’t do that,” he warned. His hand pulling your hair, exposing your neck, “I want the campus to know that you and I are fucking inside this office.” His beard scuffing the skin on your neck, his lips plating wet kisses on your collar, “You are gonna walk out here looking freshly fucked and without any panties,” he slipped his other hand down your inner thigh, dangerously close to the part where you needed him the most, “because you know how much I like souvenirs.” Your knees nearly gave out with his words but you’re not letting him win. Not this time.

Stroking with light touches, “but you won’t do that, would you, sir?” You smirked against his neck, “I’m gonna get expelled and you’re gonna get fired. And we don’t want that, do we?” You looked up to him as innocent as possible as your hands trace his outline making him groan. You felt him harden even more, you had him straining in his pants. His breathing is uneven, and there’s a sheen of sweat forming on his forehead. His lower lip is between his teeth, enjoying the light touches you are giving him through his tight pants. Craving for more.

You pulled away, smiling sweetly. You pulled your top over your head, his eyes never leaving you as he tries to compose himself. With a mischievous grin, you took off your panties and stuffed them in his pocket,

“I’ll see you tomorrow, sir.”

[blerbdrops]

New Kid (Billy Hargrove X F!Reader)

Howdy folks, sorry I am late! I started school and I am also sorting out my work schedule. Here is part 4 of new kid, thank you for reading/liking/reblogging/following etc! I appreciate you all so so much.

Summary: You’re new in Hawkins, hailing from the big city on the east coast. As a city kid, you think you’ve been stuck here to suffer in a small town, but there’s a certain someone who shakes it all up. 

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of smoking cigarettes, underage drinking 

Taglist: @salemlysi​ @asheseiler

You sat at your mirror putting on your makeup and getting ready for tonight’s party. You swiped on a tube of red lipstick and pressed your lips together, spreading out the color. Tonight’s outfit consisted of a white cropped tank top with a slightly oversized black cardigan knotted in the front. You had on high waisted black pleather pants, and a black belt with a shiny silver belt buckle. You laced up your old red Doc Martens, they were well-worn and you wouldn’t be too upset if they got scuffed or dirty. Your hair was curled to the nines, sprayed in place so that nothing frizzed out. 

“Damn, I look good.” You said to yourself in your mirror. You threw on your denim jacket and pocketed your lipstick and your flask full of whiskey. Moments later, you heard loud beeps coming from outside.

“(y/n)! I think Steve is here to come get you!” Your dad shouts from downstairs. You come downstairs to find your dad is dressed up, with a suitcase at the door. 

���Uh. Dad? What’s with the suitcase?” 

“I have to go on a road trip, see Uncle Willy about some things.”

Your brows furrowed. “What kind of things?”

“Adult things, kiddo. I’ll be gone for the weekend. I’ll be back sometime on Monday.” He kisses your forehead and heads out for his car. You snag your keys and head out of the house, locking the door behind you. Nancy and Steve greet you right as you slide into the backseat of his BMW.

Nancy lets out a whistle, “You look fantastic (y/n)! Ready to have the best night ever?” She says to you enthusiastically.

“What are we waiting for? Let’s roll!”

--

You, Nancy and Steve enter the party house. You can feel the bass thumping in the house and your chest. The living room is full of teens with red plastic cups in their hands, dancing drunkenly and laughing. You navigate your way to the kitchen, where the rest of the booze was. 

“Hey! You’re that new girl! Come, come get a drink!” It was that kid in your chemistry class, the one that sat next to Billy.

“What’s your name again?” You shout over the music to ask him.

“Oh yeah, I’m Tommy!” He replies cheerfully. “Hey, come on, you look sober!” 

You laugh, “It’s because I am. Give me something to drink!” 

He hands you a beer, but before you can crack it open he stops you. “I bet you can’t shotgun that!” 

“What? Tommy, I could drink you under the table. Stop playin’.” You scoff. This gets the attention of the kids in the kitchen, with some of them ‘ooooh’-ing like owls. Just as this happens, you spot a mop of blond curls make its way to the kitchen where you and Tommy were. Billy eyed you up, taking a look at your outfit before turning his attention to Tommy. 

“What’s going on?” He asks Tommy. 

“Oh you know, (y/n) over here thinks she can ‘drink me under the table’, her words exact.” He laughs. 

Billy slaps five dollars down on the table. “My bets on her. Tommy, you’re a lightweight!”

You laugh out loud. “We’re placing bets now?” You pick up the five and examine it. “Who else is ready to see Tommy lose to the new girl, huh?” You were met with roars of excitement as teens were tossing cash on the table, your pile only slightly bigger than his. Billy watched you, taking a swig out of his can of beer.

“All bets are final, and winner takes all. Let the games begin!” Billy shouts, as you stab the side of your beer can, crack the lid and shotgun it. It empties fast, and you crush it underneath your boot. You continue on to your second one, choosing to chug it. The kids in the kitchen were cheering you on, hearing chants of “Chug! Chug! Chug!” over the Bon Jovi song that was booming throughout the house. 

You had finished way too many beers, the beer cans underneath your feet. You were still upright, while Tommy had half a can left. People in the kitchen were chanting your name, but all you did was let out a loud belch. You were met with cheers and claps on your back. 

“You give up yet? Ready to throw down the white flag?” You guffawed at Tommy. 

“Alright, alright! You win. Fair and square.” He shoves his bet money into your pile and you throw your hands up, inciting more cheers from your crowd of “fans”. 

“That’s how you drink Hawkins! That’s how you fuckin’ do it!” You open your flask and take a large swig, feeling its warmth trickle down your throat, feeling some drip down your lips and neck. You close your flask and feel a hard stare on you. 

Billy walks over to you and leans up against the counter while you count up and pocket your cash. 

“That was pretty impressive, (y/n). Didn’t know you had that kind of fire in you.” He smirks. 

You turn to him, uncapping your flask and drinking more out of it. “I’m a woman of many mysteries, Billy.” You laugh, tucking your hair behind your ear. 

“And I’m really digging this outfit. Completely different from that goody-two-shoes getup you had on at school today.” 

You raised an eyebrow and smiled at him, posing. “Oh? You like what you see?” You do a spin, almost tumbling over. 

He laughs at you, helping regain your balance. “Careful. Don’t need you busting your ass because you wanna show off.”

A hearty laugh emits from your belly, then a burp. “Excuse me! Jesus christ.” Your head snapped to the dance floor. You Spin Me Round (Like A Record) by Dead or Alive played through the speakers.

“Are you alright (y/n)?” Billy asks, a bit concerned. 

“I’m fantastic! This is my favorite song like, ever! Come dance!” 

“(y/n) I can’t dan-” You yanked him by the wrist and dragged him to the dance floor, completely ignoring what he had to say.

You got on the dance floor, and started to bob your head to the synth in the song, getting ready to dance and shout your heart out. 

All I know is that to me

You look like you're lots of fun

Open up your lovin' arms

I want some, want some

You spun around, dancing near Billy and trying to get him to loosen up and enjoy the song. You then grabbed his hand and yanked him closer so you two could actually dance. He began to relax and laugh along at you dancing. He didn’t know what it was exactly, but something about seeing you smile and have fun made his heart flutter. 

I set my sights on you

(And no one else will do)

And I, I've got to have my way now, baby

All I know is that to me

You look like you're havin' fun

Open up your lovin' arms

Watch out, here I come

You sang the second verse and pre-chorus, looked at Billy and shot him a wink. He laughed, a slow smirk spreading across his face. 

You spin me right 'round, baby, right 'round

Like a record, baby, right 'round, 'round, 'round

You spin me right 'round, baby, right 'round

Like a record, baby, right 'round, 'round, 'round

He grabbed you by your hand and spun you around like you were in a ballroom. He pulled you back into him, your back pressed against his chest. You were twirled out again, only this time you were dipped low, his face close to yours. It took all of your willpower to not kiss him right then and there. You came back up and danced for the rest of the night, laughing and taking the occasional sip from your flask. 

--

As the music died down, you had left the dance floor panting and sweaty, a dewy sheen spread across your face. You stumbled over to the kitchen and grabbed your jean jacket from the counter, making sure your keys were still there and they were. You put on your jacket and walk outside, only to see that Steve’s car was gone. 

“Goddamn Steve… and Nancy. Damn ‘em! Damn em to hell.” You spat, staring at the porch. “Now I have to walk and, and I don’t even know where I’m at. And its LATE! Goddamn it!” 

“Who are you talking to sweetheart?” Billy asked you. He was leaned against the banister, smoking a cigarette. 

“I’m talking to me, genius.” You slurred. “Now I’m talking to you. I wanna go home but I got ditched!” You sulked. You walked over next to the banister where Billy was and plucked the cigarette from his lips. You took a drag and exhaled, letting it escape through your nose and lips. Billy watched your lips wrap around the cigarette, wishing it was him. 

“Like what you see?” You shoot him a wink, blowing the smoke away from his face and stubbing out the cigarette. 

“Yeah. I kinda do.” He licks his lips, smirking. “Now, tell me (y/n), how exactly are you getting home?”

You sigh frustratedly, “I guess I’m just gonna walk and figure it out.” You took out your flask and opened it to drink, but there was no more whiskey left. You pouted. 

“You’re not walking. I’ll take you home.” Billy stands up and offers his hand to you. You slowly push yourself up and gather yourself. You take a look at Billy’s hand and high five it. He looks at you puzzled. 

“Fix your face! Is that not why your hand was out?” You asked, words slurring here and there. 

“No, smartass. Give me your hand so I can walk you to my car.” He states, the slightest pink flush spread across his face. Giggling, you take his hand into yours and you make your way to his car. He unlocks the passenger side door and opens it for you. You lower yourself in, his hand pressed gently on the small of your back keeping you steady. Billy closes your door and makes his way to the drivers side.

“Where to, gorgeous?” He turns towards you. 

“332 Oak Lane.” 

He nods, starting up his car. As the drive begins, you notice him slip a glance at you every now and then.

“Hey Hargrove, take a picture. It’ll last longer.” You chuckle at him.

He laughs back, “No picture could capture all that beauty you got.” 

Your eyebrows flew up, painting a shocked look on your face. “Oh! Smooth talker over here. Didn’t know you could flirt like that. Color me impressed!”

The ride was peacefully quiet, right up until he pulled up to your house. 

“Nice neighborhood.” He says, then continues, turning to look at you. “How will your folks feel about you coming in piss drunk after a successful night out?” 

You laugh at his sentiment, catching his gaze. “My dads gone for the weekend. Went outta state to see my uncle. I have the whole place to myself!” 

“You.. you’re real cute ya know. Real good lookin’.” You say to him with a dopey smile on your face.

He flushes the softest shade of pink, smiles for a second and licks his lips. “Ah stop it. You’re only saying that because you’re drunk.”

“I am not! It’s true. I might be a little tipsy but.. I am right, you know.” You smile at him. 

“Tipsy? You passed that stage after your third beer. (y/n), it’s time you head inside.” He pats your thigh. 

You playfully roll your eyes, smiling. You place your hand on top of his and give it a squeeze. “Okay, I guess so. Can you walk me in? My room is up some stairs.”

“And?”

“And I’m scared I’m gonna fall! Please?” 

He removes his hand from your thigh. “Alright, I’ll walk you in. Don’t go tellin’ anyone either. I have a reputation to keep.”

You let out a thunderous laugh. “Yeah, okay buddy.” He comes over to your side of the car and opens the door. You shakily get up, feeling the dizziness get to you. 

“Easy now. Here, I got you.” He puts your arm over his shoulder and scoops you up, carrying you bridal style to your front porch. 

“Oh wow. You’re so strong! I feel like a princess.” You giggle. 

“You are. And I work out.” He continues, “Where are your keys?” 

You pull out the key that unlocks your front door and pushed it in his hands. He unlocks your front door and uses his back to shut it. 

“Alright princess. Where to?” He asks, looking down at you. Your makeup is smudged, your hair frizzed out, your eyes glazed over, flushed pink from all the drinking you had done that night. Even in your disheveled state, he still thought you were gorgeous. 

“Up the stairs. You’ll know my room when you see it.” You mumble, the tiredness setting in. Billy walks up the stairs and to your room. He could tell it was your room because of the giant Bon Jovi poster stuck to your door. 

“Okay put me down.” You ask, and he lowers you down. You slap the light switch on, illuminating your room. Billy gazes around your room, looking at all the band posters hung up on your wall. You also had christmas lights strung around your room. You had a big bed to yourself, a vanity, a small dresser and a decent sized closet. He noticed one wall void of posters. Instead of posters, you had two guitars mounted on the wall instead. One acoustic, one electric. Underneath the guitars were some amps and other guitar tech. 

“You play guitar?” He asks, looking at the guitars, his back turned. You were changing out of your party clothes, leaving you in your tank top and black boyshort underwear. You took a nearby scrunchie and pulled your hair up into a ponytail. 

“Oh yeah. Back home I was in a band. Lead guitarist you know. I still got it. Maybe I’ll play for you one day.” You say to him. “I wasn’t blessed with good vocals, my dear, but these hands? God must have took extra time with ‘em.”

“You really are a woman of many mysteries, (y/n).” He turns back around to you, but you had slipped out of the room and into the bathroom next door. He walks out of your room and finds you hunched over the porcelain throne, emptying out your insides.

Billy kneels down next to you, feeling his large warm hand on your back. 

“I HATE throwing up!” You say, face still in the toilet. “Shit is so gross.”

He chuckles. “Maybe you shouldn’t have started that drinking contest with Tommy then.” 

You lift your head up, wiping your tears away and reaching to flush the toilet. “What was I supposed to do? Let him think he could get away with shit-talking me? Just let him test me?” You and Billy laugh on your bathroom floor. “I’ll have you know, Hargrove, I come from a line of strong drinkers.”

He laughs, “Yeah, and I’m next in line to be the King of England.” He stands up, and holds his hand out to you. He helps you up, and you turn to the sink to wash whats left of your makeup off. You’re both looking at each other in the mirror. 

“I look so gross right now.” You mutter, taking out your jar of Noxzema face wash. You ran the water until it was warm and bent down to the sinks level to wet your face.

“I’ve seen worse.” Billy says, looking down at your butt. You popped up from the sink and so did his eyes. You unscrewed your jar of face wash and began rubbing it in. Billy took a seat on top of the toilet, watching you. 

“You know, you didn’t have to stay.” You state to him.

“You kickin’ me out (y/n)?” 

“No. Just saying you didn’t have to stay. I appreciate it, though.” 

He hesitated with his response. Nobody’s ever appreciated me. Or said it out loud, at least, he thought. 

“Thanks.” 

“Mhm!” You rinse the soap off your face, pat it dry and moisturize with some face cream. You turn to Billy, smiling. 

“How do I look?” You say, posing. Some of your hair had stuck to your face while you were washing it, you were in a tank top and underwear. You thought you looked like a mess. 

“Like a million bucks, doll.” He chuckles, smiling at you. You turn away and brush your teeth. Here you are, in your home, with local bad boy turned softie Billy Hargrove in your house. You catch his eye, and he just doesn’t stop looking at you, lips slightly parted. 

You rinse and spit. “Hey, Hargrove. Close your mouth or you’ll catch flies.” 

That snaps him out of his gaze, and his mouth closes. You yawn and stretch, feeling fatigue and the slight pounding of a headache lingering in the back of your head. You shut your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose. 

“It’s time for you to get some rest.” Billy looks up and says to you. You nod your head, and you walk over to your room. 

“Hey could you like.. turn around or something? I want to change tops.”

“Sure.” He turns his back to you and you grab a large sleepshirt out of your dresser drawer. You peel off the tank top and throw it across your room, allowing you to slip on your big shirt. “Okay, I’m done.”

“You look like a dork.” He says.

“Yeah? It takes one to know one. Dork.” You both chuckle. You crawl into bed and your head sinks into your pillow. You sigh happily. 

“Thanks for taking care of me.” 

“Not a problem doll.” He shuts off the light and begins to walk out. 

Before you fall asleep, you say one last thing to Billy. 

“Hey, Billy?”

“Yeah?” 

“You’re not as bad as they say you are, you know.” 

Billy becomes bashful at this statement. He’s lucky the lights are out or else she’d see just how red in the face he was. Those words would continue to ring throughout his head for the rest of the night. 

Before he had his chance to respond, you had already succumbed to the sweet embrace of slumber. Billy slowly approached your bed, lowered himself down and kissed your forehead. He watched the smallest smile form on your face before you turned over, enveloping yourself in your blankets.

He backed out of the room and went into the bathroom looking for medicine. He takes out two pills of Advil and places them on your nightstand, along with a handwritten note. He leaves your house, locking the door behind him. 

There was something about you that struck a chord within Billy somewhere. And it unnerved him to his core. 

---

A/N: AW YALL! I LOVE WRITING SOFT BILLY. thanks for reading! as always, i will keep writing as long as you keep reading. feedback is always appreciated. my requests are open for you all. come chat! see u in part 5