#thought I’d get to work on commissions but alas

[foldingfittedsheets]

I’m in the little store today and every time I think I’m gonna have downtime I pull out my laptop and every time I pull out my laptop we get a bunch of customers.

I feel like I’m just gonna post up on a bed with my kindle instead of chancing fate a third time.

[joonie-beanie]

Hat Guy's ASMR Commissions: S Tier | [Scaramouche/Wanderer x Reader]

Summary: Subject: Your Commission For [Guided Masturbation Audio - 30 minute session] In which your asshole best friends order a commission from your favorite ASMR artist, and it's a lot more NSFW than you were expecting. "From this moment on, you’re going to follow my directions. I’d say “if you fail to, you’ll be punished” but we both know you’re probably just another people pleaser who will do whatever I say, as long as you know it will make me happy. But fair warning–I won’t be happy until you’re so fucked out you can’t speak a coherent word.” Content: Smut, Guided Masturbation, Toy Use, Name Calling, Degradation/Humiliation, fem!reader Word Count: 6.5k Note: this is kind of an untraditional smut, so just keep that in mind lol

“Sweetheart…you really need to find some way to relax.”

“I agree. If you don’t release your tension, it’ll do a number on your health.”

You really appreciate Lisa and Yae being so concerned for you, but…

“I know. It’s just…not that easy for me.”

By now, in theory, you should have figured out some better coping mechanisms and ways to destress, but alas.

Taking a book from the return bin, Lisa scans it, and then places it onto the go-back cart.

“Well, have you tried getting off?”

Her suggestion makes you jerk, your head swiveling as you glance around the library to see if anyone nearby has overheard. At your side, Yae giggles.

“Calm down…finals have just ended. No one is in the library anymore—they’re out partying.”

You sigh. 

You suppose she’s right. The only reason you three are here is because Lisa is working the closing shift, and because Yae had insisted that you come along to the library with her to keep Lisa company.

“Traditional porn, a good adult novel, ASMR—all would be good options,” Lisa continues.

“I’m not really into porn right now, and I don’t think I have the bandwidth to focus on a book,” you say, resting your cheek in your palm. “As for ASMR…I’m not a big fan. I’ve really only discovered one creator that I like…”

“Oh?” 

Now that piques their interest. 

“What’s their name?”

“He goes by “Hat Guy” on twitter,” you tell them. “He mostly just…posts audio responses to dumb takes, or makes ASMR mocking other ASMR trends, but his voice is nice, and he has a small fan base…despite him kind of being a little shit.”

“How cute,” Lisa laughs while Yae pulls out her phone.

“Well, then…since it sounds like he doesn’t have any relaxing content, maybe you should just go home and take a nice bath. Did you ever use that bath bomb I got you for your birthday?”

“No,” you mumble sheepishly. At your side, Yae taps your knee.

“Lisa is right. Go home and have a bath. I’ll keep her company until she’s done.”

You raise your eyebrows in surprise.

“Are you sure…? I just got here like half an hour ago and now you want me to go home?”

“I just think some “you” time would be good,” she tells you with a smile. You pout your lips, but ultimately decide that…maybe she’s right.

“Fine, I’ll head home and rest, then.”

“Good girl,” Yae responds, patting your ass when you bend over to grab your backpack. You narrow your eyes at her, but aren’t truly mad.

“Be careful on your walk home~,” Lisa says as you start towards the exit. You wave at them both over your shoulder, and then leave the building.

A few seconds after your departure, Lisa turns to Yae.

“Alright, what did you find that you didn’t want Y/N to know about?”

Yae grins, loving that Lisa has already caught on.

“Look—”

She gets up from her seat and leans over to show Lisa her phone screen.

“I found Hat Guy’s twitter and saw that he’s accepting commissions, and look at one of the options~”

She points to something, and Lisa’s eyes hurriedly scan the text in front of her. 

When she has finished reading, she grins.

“Oh, my…well, that’s certainly tempting.”

“I was thinking maybe we can give it to Y/N as a… “you survived finals! Use this to relax” type present. Since she’s always doing thoughtful things for us when we’re swamped.”

Lisa smiles, putting a thoughtful finger to her lips.

“I agree. She’s brought us so many cups of tea over the last few months. It’s the least we can do.”

“Good,” Yae says with a nod, immediately clicking on the commission link.

“She deserves a little…fun.”

Between the end of the previous semester, and the start of the new one, your University has generously given you a long weekend. 

4 days, to be exact. 

Most of this long weekend you spend doing the chores you’ve put off, and working a few shifts at your job. 

It’s only by some grace that you end up with Sunday off. One final day to try and relax before classes begin tomorrow…

You do your best to make the most of it—mindlessly scrolling tiktok, folding some clothes, debating if you should order food out, and ultimately deciding against it, since you just went grocery shopping…

All in all, it’s a pretty mundane day.

…at least, until the icon for your email app appears at the top of your phone screen, and you swipe down the notification to see the title:

Subject: Your Commission For [Guided Masturbation Audio - 30 minute session]

Immediately, you freeze.

Surely, this is a spam email that’s somehow made it through the cracks. Because you definitely haven’t ordered such a thing.

Yet, despite your doubts at the validity of the email, you still click on it—wanting to read the contents before banishing it to your spam folder.

Dear Recipient,

Attached to this email is an mp3 file available for you to download. This file was requested and paid for by “Fox and Witch”, and is being sent to you directly at their request.

Please do not distribute this anywhere else on social media, as this is my copyrighted content.

If there is any issue with the quality of the file, please let me know.

Have fun.

-Hat Guy

Note:

Toys Needed = Dildo, Clitoral Vibrator or Wand

…you must have knocked your head on something earlier and are currently hallucinating.

Because there is NO WAY there’s an email from HAT GUY in your inbox. And that said email is for…for…

Well, you remember seeing a link on his profile about commissions, but you’d never clicked on it to see more than that. There’s no chance he’s out here telling people how to get off, though, right…?

With a warm face, you scan the email again. And then a third time.

You can only assume “Fox and Witch” are Yae and Lisa. And you did just tell them that you like Hat Guy’s content…

You bite your lip, staring at the mp3 file. 

There’s just no way…

Hesitantly, you click on it.

“Hmph. You must be really desperate if your friends were willing to pay for a half hour of my time. Most people are satisfied with 10-15 minutes, but no…they knew you’d need longer than that.”

Oh…fuck. 

Something in your tummy flips.

That’s him, alright.

You’ve never heard him talk like that before, but it’s definitely him…you could never mistake that haughty, belittling tone.

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, your gaze once again finding the title of the email.

Guided Masturbation.

If you’re not wrong, that means if you hit play, and keep listening, it’ll probably be a lot of Hat Guy telling you what to do…how to touch yourself.

Just thinking about such a thing makes more blood rush to your head—embarrassment blooming in your chest.

Sure, the idea of him bossing you around isn’t exactly unappealing. You’re sure he’d be…less than nice, and maybe even a little sadistic, and perhaps call you a few rude names, but—

You groan and place your phone face down on the table beside you.

“Nope, I can’t—I—”

Standing up from your couch, you trudge into your kitchen.

It’s dinner time—you need to make dinner.

You try to keep your thoughts from straying to your temporarily abandoned phone, and the email that’s sitting in your inbox—but it’s literally impossible.

Still, you manage to cook yourself a meal, and even partake in a little alcoholic drink. (Just because you’re treating yourself, and definitely not because you want to ease your nerves a bit.)

Once you’ve finished eating, you clean all your dishes, and then return to the couch. Your gaze strays to your phone, but you don’t pick it up—instead deciding to grab the TV remote.

You make it approximately 25 minutes into a movie before you can’t take it anymore.

Hitting the pause button, you throw the remote on the couch beside you and then snatch up your phone—alighting from the couch.

You grab your headphones on the way to your bedroom, and pop them into your ears only after you’ve gathered your dildo and vibrator.

Maybe this audio won’t be as hot as you’re assuming, and you’ll end up not wanting to touch yourself, but…better to have everything prepared just in case, right?

Taking a deep breath, you hit play.

The track restarts from the beginning. 

“Hmph. You must be really desperate if your friends were willing to pay for a half hour of my time. Most people are satisfied with 10-15 minutes, but no…they knew you’d need longer than that.”

“I also hear you’re quite the little masochist—but I could have assumed that, considering it’s me that you’re soaking your panties over. Just another slut who wants to be bullied, huh.”

You huff at his words, glaring at your phone screen. 

Did Lisa and Yae tell him your kinks or something?? Those bitches.

“Well, you’re in luck, because from this moment on, you’re going to follow my directions. I’d say “if you fail to, you’ll be punished” but we both know you’re probably just another people pleaser who will do whatever I say, as long as you know it will make me happy.”

Dammit, why is he right—

“But fair warning—I won’t be happy until you’re so fucked out you can’t speak a coherent word.”

With a shaking finger, you pause the audio.

You hate to admit it, but his words—the way he’s speaking to you—is already making you wet. 

You really, truly want him to bully you, and use you like a little toy.

So, guess that means you’re doing this.

Throwing any caution and shame to the wind, you hit the play button again. 

“Now…where to begin? I always like to start with an inspection. Take off your clothes, but leave your panties on. I’m not going to bid your needy pussy any attention just yet.”

You obediently do as he says, stripping yourself of your clothing until you’re left only in your panties.

“It’s unfortunate I’m not there to survey those titties in person, so you’ll just have to feel them up for me. Go ahead and grope yourself. Take a minute and massage your chest…I want to see if you’ll get wet from that alone. Although, you’re probably wet already just from my voice, aren’t you, slut?”

You click your tongue at that last part, (hating that he’s right), but nonetheless bring your hands to your chest. 

You cup your titties, and begin squeezing them—feeling the soft flesh beneath your fingers. 

“Good, keep going—squeeze a little harder now. Ah…I bet your nipples want to be touched, huh? Start teasing them, then—just enough to get them hard. I’ll give you 10 seconds—that should be enough.”

For some reason, the challenge of accomplishing a task within a certain time limit makes your pussy throb, and very quickly, you move your pointer fingers over your nipples—rubbing them lightly, and coaxing them to a peak. 

You’re ashamed to admit it, but they manage to get hard in the 10 second pause he gives you…

“Wow, look at that…what greedy titties you have—responding as I say, eager to be played with. Pinch your nipples and roll them between your fingers. Find the motion that feels best, and do it over and over again, until I tell you to stop.”

Resting your breasts in your palms, you pinch your nipples between your fingers—rolling and tugging them. 

Your eyes flutter shut as you touch yourself, each purposeful little tweak of your nipples causing your spine to twitch, and your pussy to clench.

It’s been too long since you’ve touched yourself like this…

By the time Hat Guy’s voice fills your ears once more, your nipples have started to get sore.

“Okay, stop there. I bet your cunt has started quivering, but I hope you know it’ll still be a while before I give you the chance to cum…unless, you somehow managed to orgasm from playing with just your titties? If that’s the case, congratulations! You’re the most needy and pathetic whore I’ve played with. So pathetic that I’ll give you a pass, and won’t even punish you for cumming without permission.”

The thought of being able to cum from nipple play alone makes you feel even more aroused, much to your chagrin—

“Now, let’s inspect that dirty pussy of yours. Spread your legs, and pull your panties down to your knees. I want you to stare at the crotch of your panties and feel ashamed at the wet spot I know is there.”

Taking a deep breath, you hook your fingers around your panties and tug them down your thighs.

As you spread your feet apart, you end up staring at the crotch of your panties—your lips pressing together when you notice there is, indeed, a very noticeable wet spot.

“Next, bend over. As low as you can go, with your legs still apart. I want to see everything.”

Locking your fingers together, you hesitate for a brief second before you bend over—feeling a strain in your leg muscles as you hit the point where you can’t bend anymore.

In this position, you know that you’re on full display.

“Look at you, presenting yourself to me…you really don’t have any shame, do you? If I were there, I’d be grabbing you and forcing you open wider, but since I’m not, you can do it for me! Grab your ass cheeks with both hands, and spread.”

Breathing a little shakily, you do your best to reach behind you and spread yourself. You feel your asshole clench as you do so, and the involuntary action maddens you, considering Hat Guy’s next words are—

“Such a tight little hole…I bet it’s twitching.” 

“Is it nervous, or hoping for an intrusion? Either way, anal is not the objective of today’s session, so let’s move back to your pussy. Go ahead and spread your folds with your hand. You have permission to bend over with your chest to your bed, if you feel your blood rushing to your head from bending down so low. And if you're not by your bed…where the fuck are you listening to this audio? In your car, or a bathroom stall? Pervert.”

That little quip at the end makes you smile, even as you stand up and move yourself to your bed.

You find it a little endearing how he’s bossing you around, but still managing to be somewhat considerate. You suppose maybe there is more to him than just being a brat on the internet.

Anyway—

Reaching one hand back between your legs, you slide your fingers between the folds of your pussy and spread them—opening yourself up as if he were there to inspect you.

“Now, rub your fingers at your entrance—feel how slick you’ve gotten…honestly, you should feel ashamed. Getting so wet for a no-face internet stranger.”

Sure, your panties were a little wet, but that doesn’t mean—

You move your fingers to your entrance—freezing at the amount of sticky arousal you feel. 

You...honestly can’t remember the last time you’ve gotten this wet.

“Smear the slick around your pussy, and make sure to get your clit. That’s where we’re headed next.”

You do as he says, perhaps a smidge overly excited that you now seem to be entering the main course.

As your fingers ghost over your clit, your pussy shudders.

“Bet you just clenched in excitement, huh?”

How does he fucking know—?!

“I'll be nice and will let you use two fingers. Press the pads of your fingers to your clit, and start making circular motions. Slow. 1…2…3…just like that.”

Breathing deep, you begin rubbing your clit with your fingers—repeating his count in your head, and following his pace. 

With each pass of your fingers, your walls squeeze tighter.

“You probably want to rush, or grind your hips on your fingers…but you shouldn't be acting so desperate just yet, so be a good girl and keep going.”

Huffing, you obey his command,

He goes silent for a few beats, really giving you a minute to continue hopelessly teasing yourself. 

By the time he next speaks, a needy exhale is leaving your lips—heady arousal truly being to pool in your lower tummy.

“Now you can go faster. Rub your clit to the beat of your heart. I assume it's racing, so you should be moving your hand a bit faster than before.”

You haven’t really noticed before now, but your heart is certainly beating much faster than normal…

The steady, yet swift thump of your heart is felt throughout your body the more you focus on it, and you quickly adjust your pace. 

A breathy little sigh leaves your lips—your brows pinching together.

You want to cum. 

“I wonder if you're close already, just from your fingers on your clit…haha. If you are, remember—you don't get to cum until I say so. So if you're close to cumming, edge yourself. Get right to the edge of your orgasm, and then stop. I'll give you 10 seconds after that to collect yourself, but then you have to keep going.”

Oh, fuck…

You suppose you should have realized that edging might be part of the equation, especially during a 30 minute session.

And, unfortunately, the thought of edging yourself for him makes you even hornier—pushing you closer to your first climax—or, well, edge.

“I bet you're probably thinking that 10 seconds isn't very long…that when you start again, you'll still be right at the brink of your orgasm, and will have to keep edging over, and over…hah, well…that's your own fault for being so hopeless.”

“Now, I'll let you set the pace. Find the rhythm and motion against your clit that makes you feel the best…you're going to keep that up for 1 minute—and remember, no cumming.”

Dammit—

By now, your lips are fully parted—quick little breaths fanning in front of your face and warming the sheets of your mattress.

You don’t want to edge, you want to cum, but he won’t let you—

“Also, why don't you go ahead and count aloud? I assume you're in private, so it shouldn't be an issue to let out your voice. And if you're not, well…I guess people will get to hear what a debauched whore you are.”

If this were 10 minutes ago, you’d surely blush and hesitate to follow his command.

But now…now you’re a little closer to being the debauched whore he’s calling you.

“I'll count with you so you don't rush it. 60…59��58…57—”

With headphones in, you hear your own voice in your head—mingling with his. 

His, unwavering, with a hint of mockery. Yours…quiet, and struggling to stay on beat.

You clit throbs beneath your fingers, and there’s a familiar flutter of your walls, despite your pussy currently being empty. 

You’re getting close. 

“I can only imagine how sinful you look right now…oh, right. Where was I? Hmm…let's just pick up from 30.”

Motherfucker—

You let your face drop into your sheets, your thighs tightening and knees shaking.

Fuck, you wanna cum. You know you can’t—know it’s not allowed yet, but—!

“5…4…3…2…1. Stop moving your hand.”

Perfect timing. Right at the edge of an orgasm—you pull your hand away.

You take a second to try and catch your breath while ignoring the unfulfilled ache between your legs.

“Your pussy must be throbbing, huh? Lucky for you, as your benevolent master, I’ll let you stuff it full. Grab your dildo and get on your bed on your knees.”

“Also, I assume you're soaked by now, but if not, and you need additional lubrication, use lube.”

You glance behind you at your dresser, where your bottle of lube sits, but ultimately don’t grab it. 

By now, you’re sure you can do without.

Grabbing your dildo, you climb onto your bed, and obediently get on your knees.

“Now, sit up and position the dildo beneath you. Rub the head between your folds, and then settle it at your entrance.”

You do as he says—a shiver of excitement raking up your spine as the tip of your dildo unexpectedly flicks against your clit while you get it into position.

“I'm going to give you 3 seconds to take it fully inside of you…What? I did say we'll be stuffing you full, and with how needy you clearly are, I figured I'm doing you a favor by letting you take it all in!”

Oh. That’s—

“So, I'll count to three. Oh, and if your dildo is too big, and you're scared to sink down onto it all at once, well…that's your own fault for biting off more than you can chew. But, I'm sure that greedy pussy will take anything it can get.”

It will.

“Ready?”

You take a trembling breath.

“3, 2, 1—!”

In one swift motion, you spread your thighs and sink down onto the dildo.

When the head bumps against the deepest part of you, you can’t help but gasp—the sound positively lewd.

“Ahhh…fuck. You made a cute sound, didn't you? How precious…now you're stuffed to the brim with dick, as you should be.”

Yes, this is exactly how you’re meant to feel…just a little slut who will do anything to cum for him.

Yet, despite his harsh instructions, he seems to pause for a second, giving you a chance to acclimate to the intrusion.

How cute.

“Why don't we start slow…I want you to lift your hips until just the tip of the dildo is inside of you, and then grind back down on it. Up…and down…up—”

To aid in the motion, you place your hands flat on the mattress in front of you, and then begin moving your hips.

Up…and down…

Your walls clench around the dildo, practically begging for more, but the man currently using you as his personal toy clearly isn’t inclined to give you such a thing.

At least, not immediately.

If you had to guess, he makes you continue at this slow, teasing pace for at least 2 minutes—your muscles beginning to strain as you resist going any faster.

Then, his voice fills your ears once again. You nearly sigh with relief.

“I hope your thighs aren't burning yet, because now we're going to pick up the pace. Imagine the gallop of a horse's hooves. I want you to grind on each downbeat. No need to make big motions—just grind on your dildo how you'd grind your pussy on my cock if I was there.”

If he were here, you’d wanna grind on his dick until he’s moaning louder than you are—

“Fuck…”

Fingers curling into the sheets, you find your new rhythm—the sound of your wet pussy beginning to fill the quiet room outside your headphones.

Sweat starts to bead on your brow—the arousal inside of you searing hotter, and your muscles getting tighter.

“I wonder if you can cum from internal stimulation alone…try to find your g-spot if you haven't already. I want you to bully it with your dildo.”

You can practically hear the grin in his words. 

Repositioning yourself, you find the angle that better allows you to rub that sensitive little spot inside you.

Almost immediately, a whine rips from your throat.

“Now…I'm going to issue you a challenge. I'll count down from 60 seconds again. During that 60 seconds, you're free to cum. So try your best, okay, slut?”

Please, you want to cum, but you don’t know if 60 seconds will be enough—

“60…59…58…”

Dammit—

With his challenge invigorating you, you continue messily grinding your hips.

Each pass of your dildo against your g-spot causes your pussy to shiver, and your thighs to shake—your orgasm creeping closer.

“33…32…31…”

A desperate sound slips past your lips, your eyebrows knitting together.

You want to cum.

You want to cum.

You want to cum, but—

You drop down onto your dildo roughly, almost in a pouting manner.

You need more time.

As soon as your climax finally begins to build—your walls clenching down on your dildo—Hat Guy reaches the end of his countdown.

“3…2…1…so…did you cum? Either way, I'm sure your legs are shaking. I wouldn't doubt that your sheets are getting soiled by your arousal, either.”

“Well, whether you came or not, don't worry—there's still more opportunities to orgasm yet to come! That being said, set your dildo to the side, and grab your vibrator instead.”

Exhaling, you manage to lift up your hips, and your dildo slips out of you. 

It flops onto your sheets, glistening with your arousal.

Your pussy mourns the loss.

Setting your dildo to the side, you grab your vibrator instead.

“You can go ahead and lay on your back. I'll give your knees a break…isn't that nice of me? You should say “thank you”.”

You clench your jaw as you roll onto your back, your eyes squinting at the ceiling.

There’s no way he’s serious, right? Counting is one thing, but thanking someone who isn’t here?

“Huh? Did you think that was just a suggestion? Go on.”

You wet your lips with your tongue.

“...thank you.”

There’s a brief second of silence, and then—

“...pfft, hahaha! If you actually did just say it aloud, you're more of an obedient people pleaser than I thought. What a precious little cock-sleeve.”

You want to punch him—

“Anyway, I haven't let you cum from your clit yet. I bet by now it's engorged and begging for attention…go ahead and put your vibrator on your clit. Turn it on low.”

The fact that even just touching your clit causes you to jolt proves that his words are correct.

Hitting the power button, you turn your vibrator on a low setting, and almost instantly—the orgasm that had started to fade away flares back to life.

“Good…I'll let you keep it there for a little while. Actually…I'm gonna go get some water. God knows how upset you'd be if my voice suddenly gave out and I couldn't give you permission to cum—”

You hear the sound of a chair being alighted from, and footsteps padding away from the mic.

“This little motherfucker—,” you pant, your chest heaving. 

You gently rub your vibrator around your clit—hoping that doing so will help you delay the orgasm that’s building—but it’s impossible to avoid.

After another minute, you can’t put it off any longer.

Your body tenses, your pussy tightening, and—

You tear the vibrator away from your clit.

If he were here, you think you’d honestly start to beg him for mercy. Of course, you’re sure he’d say that’s practically your first true edge, and you’re just being a little baby, but still.

You start the countdown from 10 in your head, and once it’s done, put your vibrator back on your clit.

Your entire body jolts as the pleasure that had been denied snaps back to attention.

You’re gonna have to edge again—

“How are you holding out? Did you edge at all—just from the vibrator being on low? At the very least, I bet you're squirming and panting.”

“Now, listen closely. I'm going to make you an offer.”

If his offer involves you cumming, you’ll do whatever it takes.

“I'm going to let you cum with the vibrator still on low—assuming you can. This time I'll be generous and will give you 90 seconds, even. But here's the catch. At the end of this session, you will be cumming. So if your begging cunt blots out any logic in your brain, and you decide to cum now, and then feel it's “too much” later, well. That'll be your own fault. Even if you're overstimulated, you'll be cumming again, so choose wisely.”

“Either way, you need to keep the vibrator on your clit for another 90 seconds. You just need to decide if you're cumming or edging. Get ready. To spice it up, this time I'm not counting aloud—I'll just tell you when to stop. So if you're planning on cumming, try not to waste any time. Because if I say stop and you're right there, I doubt you’ll be very happy. Now, begin.”

Risking an overstimulated orgasm after this is a dangerous game, but—

You press the vibrator harder against your clit. 

You need to cum—you don’t care about anything else right now.

Your free hand grabs at your breast—your toes curling, and your heart racing.

Your back arches off the bed, a symphony of miniscule whines and gasps falling from your lips.

Then, the tension inside of you reaches its limit, and snaps.

Your voice catches in your throat—your body spasming as waves of pleasure rock you.

You keep the vibrator on your clit to draw them out as long as you can, but after a few long beats, Hat Guy’s voice fills your ears once again. 

“Stop—that's time. So…did you cum? I wish I could see the state of you…I bet you're starting to look all fucked out. We're already at the 20 minute mark, after all.”

You can’t believe it’s already been 20 minutes. Yet, at the same time, can’t believe you’re not already closer to the end.

“Now, I did say you'd be cumming again, so why don't you go ahead and put your vibe on high? Let's try and force it out of you.”

It’s fine…it’s totally fine. 

Turning your vibrator on high will be totally fine.

You move the toy back to your clit and push the button until the vibrations are much more intense than before.

Almost immediately, heat rushes through your body—stemming from the still recovering nerve ending on your clit.

You’re over-sensitive. Fuck.

And yet…your pussy still flutters—your muscles tensing once again as another orgasm begins to build.

“Ahh, I bet you're squirming like a pathetic little worm. Is it too much? Do you want to beg me to let you stop?”

“Your toes are curling, aren't they? I wish I could hear you and see you panting like a bitch in heat. Should I throw you a bone? Would that satisfy that sad cunt of yours?”

You are writhing, and panting, and every other filthy thing he’s pegged you as. But—you don’t want to stop. You’re too far in now—your whole body shaking, and your breaths coming quick as the vibrator on your clit overwhelms you.

It’s overwhelming, but you can’t stop chasing that high. You—

“Actually…that's not a bad idea. Stop—now.”

Despite not wanting to, you immediately yank the toy away.

You hear yourself whining, unable to help it.

“Hopefully you didn't cum in the last 30 seconds. If so…whoops~”

You wish you could kick him.

“This final orgasm is going to be our grand finale, so we should really let the sparks fly. And maybe your juices, depending on how hard you cum.”

“Grab your dildo—shove it in.”

You scramble to grab it—your arm darting to the side to recover the dildo you’d discarded a short while ago. 

As soon as you have it, you spread your legs and press the head at your entrance—stuffing it in without any preamble.

A pleasant sigh leaves you as that full feeling returns.

“You're going to fuck yourself with it—however fast or slow, I don't care. And at the same time, turn your vibrator back on high.”

You can tell where this is going, and you honestly think it may kill you, but you follow his instructions nonetheless.

Turning the vibrator on high, you place it back on your clit and then begin fucking yourself with the dildo. 

Almost immediately, involuntary sounds slip out of you—your body writhing against the sheets.

The overwhelming strength of your vibrator on your clit now partnered with the messy rubbing of your dildo between your walls…you’re truly becoming the mess he promised to make you.

“Oh, and just so things don't end too soon, you need to hold out for at least one minute. I'll let you know once you have permission to cum.”

You hardly think it’s fair that he’s saying this now, considering you’ve already started fucking yourself, but even so, you want to listen—want to be a good girl who does what he says, and only cums when permitted.

Holding out for a whole minute when your cunt is already starting to spasm—your clit feeling like it’s on fire—is certainly going to be a challenge, though.

“You know…I bet if this were a live call, I'd be able to hear how wet your pussy is. You're probably gripping onto that dildo so tightly…as if it's a real cock that you're begging to properly breed you.”

If he were here you wonder how he’d fuck you. Certainly hard enough that you’d be able to hear the slap of his balls against your pussy—

“You must be panting, huh? So ready to cum…I wonder if you’d be obedient enough to cum when I say. Why don’t we try? We’re getting close to a minute, after all.”

Oh, fuck. 

You’ve never cum on command before, but you want to for him.

“C’mon, princess, I know you can do it…keep going…get yourself right there—”

Your chest shudders, and tears blot your eyes.

You’re trying. Everything feels so hot. 

The arousal in your tummy swells—tightening up, and searing your insides.

“Cum.”

A sob rips from your chest, and you grind your dildo against your g-spot one final time, before your body obeys, and releases.

With the vibrator on high, this orgasm is much more intense than the last. 

Your breath catches, your spine curving, and your hand releases the dildo in favor of grabbing onto your sheets for dear life.

Despite the clamping of your pussy around the silicone cock, it still manages to slip out of you after a few seconds—flopping onto your mattress, and poking wetly against your ass.

When the pleasure on your clit starts to turn to pain—you finally tear the vibrator away. You turn it off, and weakly discard it onto the bed beside you.

Despite no longer having any toys in or on you, your cunt and clit continue to twitch with aftershocks.

You take a deep breath. 

Hat Guy is still talking in your ears, but your brain is too scrambled to process what he’s saying. So, you just continue to lay there until his words sound more like words again.

“Alright, you must have cum by now. Take a minute to breathe. And when you’re done catching your breath, make sure you get up and go pee, and then get some water. Because I’m not about to be liable for any after-effects of this session.”

Despite being exhausted, you can’t help but quietly laugh.

“Good job making it through. I’m sure we’ll meet again soon…mostly because I’m sure you’ll be opening this file again to get off to, haha.”

“Later~”

The audio ends.

You lay there, staring at the ceiling.

Then, you roll onto your side, slowly get up, and head for the bathroom.

Can’t let Hat Guy be liable for you, after all.

The following morning, you wake up with sore muscles, and a determination to go and beat up Yae Miko and Lisa Minci about their “gift”.

Yeah, maybe you are a little less tense than before, and the stress that had been clinging to you after the end of the previous semester is now gone, but still. They deserve a good scolding.

First, however, you have to go to your 9AM lecture. After that, you’ll have time to run to the library.

Despite the soreness in your thighs, you manage to trek across campus and make it to your class with time to spare. You chose a seat somewhere in the middle, and then set your bag down in the chair beside you.

With nothing to work on yet, considering today’s the first day, you entertain yourself with social media apps on your phone as the lecture hall slowly continues filling up.

When there’s only a minute left before the class is set to start, there’s a tap on your shoulder.

Startled, realizing they’ve probably been trying to get your attention, you immediately take out one of your headphones. Before you can even turn to face them and apologize, they’re talking.

Except…the voice of the person beside you is…eerily familiar. Scratchy, attractive, and perhaps a little annoyed—

“Do you mind moving your bag? There aren’t very many seats left.”

Without saying a word, too stunned to speak, you reach over and move your bag to the floor at your feet. The man grunts, and takes a seat beside you.

As he pulls out his laptop, you finally build up the courage to look at him. 

Dark hair and eyes to match…slim fingers, but veiny hands…a black shirt and oversized jacket—

“Do you need something?”

Oh, fuck—you’ve been openly staring.

Your eyes meet his for the first time, and you open your mouth, but no words come out. The beat of your heart starts to get faster.

He cocks an unimpressed eyebrow at you.

“What? Cat got your tongue?”

This is just too much—there’s no fucking way this is happening—

Unfortunately, before you can finally pull it together and try to redeem yourself, your professor takes the podium at the head of the room.

“Class! Welcome! While it might be a little unconventional to start the semester out on this note, I just want you all to know in advance: this class will heavily rely on cooperation with others. There will be many team projects. In fact—the person you’re sharing a table with will be your project partner for the whole semester!”

…what.

Beside you, the man sighs—clearly unhappy to hear about there being group projects, or you being his partner, or both.

“Great, looks like we’re stuck together.”

“Yep…,” you mumble in response, the first word you’ve managed to speak since his arrival.

He obviously notices, because his lips pull into a teasing little grin, his eyes remaining trained on your still-speaking professor as he whisper—

“Oh, would you look at that? She speaks.”

Your pussy clenches.

Mhmm, yep! 

You’re gonna go jump off a bridge.

[uchihaharlot]

I didn't mean to break their hearts, I was just curious, srry!😭😭 (but Itachi's one was kinda funny-)

But anyway, now I'm wondering about how they would react if they found out that you can draw really cool and beautiful.

(I'm an artist, so😎)

Nonny 🥹🥹

That put me in an really good mood; lol. That was way too fun to write; maybe I can one day write a super angsty break up (but I love them too much!!!).

I love all artists 😭😭😭 Painters, writers — digital or paper. Anything that expresses the inner workings of someone’s mind and the fact that they can manifest it to reality is so so so beautiful. I hope I’ve secretly seen your art, I’d probably simp over it. Always simp over art. 😂😂🥹🥹

N/SFW; very cute Uchiha men adoring your artwork! 🥹🥹🥹 (ooc Madara??); Simpy Obito; …Scandalous Shisui; abnormally observant Itachi 😂 suggestive themes rolled out the further I got. For some reason, I just had to. (P.s. I should not be allowed to write when tired??? Half of this was done while my eyes rolled shut in bed).

Madara:

It’s not everyday that Madara is blown like a leaf in the wind. When you mentioned being a patron of the arts, he thought maybe the art of battle?? Didn’t expect your weapon to be a paint brush with some acrylic paint. Thought it was some weird jutsu infused shit.

And then you just had to go above and beyond and do a portrait of him for his birthday!!!!! It’s hung on the living room center wall so that it’s the first thing anyone sees! Honestly, this man is a brute, but your art envokes his softer side! A side that he hasn’t been in touch with for…well, a long time.

Makes sure that everyone and I mean, everyone, is aware of your talent! Still, he tries to find the side hussle in it, soliciting customers for you and all. 😭😭 Will trash talk the chalk art children make on the sidewalk, which ‘…that’s not nice, they’re children..’ you say. He shrugs, nobody is as good as you.

Obito:

Finds out and tries to ‘secretly’ commission you lmao. Makes it totally obvious too, his handwriting is shit and eveeeerrryyyyone knows who Tobi really is…. Plus how can you even begin without discussing what he wants done!! Duh, Obito! Unfortunately for him, you are more interested in drawing matters of the flesh. He’ll only show his chest, nothing more.

‘That’s fine.’ You shrug, and get to work. Obito, however, does not have the resolve to sit still! It’s frustrating to no end, but alas, after what seems an eternity— its done. Sort of. Still much to add, but the basics are there and you’ll work better when he’s not asking how does it look every twenty minutes.

Eventually you do finish this beautiful piece of him, and Obito cries. You made his scars tolerable and beautiful with your mind’s creativity, he feels less self conscious about them, only a little.

Shisui:

Is the least normal about it when he discovered your sketchbook — more like snatched and played keep away. Had to fight him for it, literally. Will ask you to paint/draw him naked…many times lol and you respectfully say no... Not that he likes people to see him naked (ok maybe a little?) but he secretly hopes it might happen one day. It would be a private thing for the two of you, cause he wants that ass.

And when you do cave to his whim, just to satiate him. He’s nervous lmao. Had this oh so macho man idea of rocking a hard on but Shisui simply maintains his usual semi. It’s nice though, you make sure it’s extremely detailed..as he asked for.

But, ‘(y/n)… this is chibbi!!!’ Lol, jokes on Shisui!! He didn’t say how to draw his pp.

Itachi:

Is the most normal about it. Though he still will praise you every time you finish a piece and show him, he is still massively impressed. How does your wrist not get tired? …maybe this is why your hand jobs are so good. 😈 Just watching you try a new technique (pointillism, which is my favorite style) makes his wrist hurt. Enjoys when you ask him for ideas! He has lots of them! Mostly…obscure and derelict landscapes though.

Would not be opposed to having his portrait done, but it’s really not his style. He is disciplined enough to sit still but doesn’t see the value in it. Not until the final product is revealed, does he truly understand how important this piece was. You’ve captured his personality in a new light.

[magicalbats]

Kinktober 2024 Day 19: Kazuha x Reader

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 4969

Warnings: Afab!reader, femdom, bondage, edging, orgasm denial, panties in mouth, gags, sounding, urethral insertion

A/N: I call this one 'ninja vs samurai' 🤭

⭐

It is by pure luck and happenstance that you finally manage to catch him. 

Kaedehara Kazuha was an elusive one, and frustratingly hard to track down. So much so that if it hadn’t been for the bounty on his head you would have given up a long time ago, deeming it an impossible task. But the Tenryou Commission and General Kujo wanted him badly enough to put up a very sizable bag of mora in exchange for him so you’d been willing to go that extra mile and put in the work. 

Usually you wouldn't have even considered dealing with those shogunate dogs at all, being a wanted criminal yourself and not particularly keen about ending up on the sharp end of the Almighty Narukami’s sword should they realize that. But the reward money was just tempting enough and your ability to slip into almost any setting without being detected was pretty handy for things like this. It was what ultimately allowed you to get close enough to him to make your move. 

Unfortunately now that you had him, you weren’t entirely sure what to do with him. 

“Well,” You intone, standing over the kneeling swordsman, looking him over. He’s been surprisingly well behaved thus far, allowing you to cinch his captured wrists with sturdy rope behind his back and then his ankles to ensure he couldn’t escape. Now he was just sitting there, bound legs neatly folded underneath him while he looked up at you like a sad, needy little puppy. 

It was a frustratingly compelling argument, as far as silent pleas go, but you remind yourself to stay on track. With all the mora you’d get from turning him in you could probably flee Inazuma all together and start a new life somewhere else. His freedom in exchange for yours, simple economics. 

“Although I do appreciate your cooperation, I gotta’ say. I expected you to put up more of a fight. You look like you’d be better suited to being someone’s lap dog than a samurai.” 

Slowly blinking his big, softly winsome eyes at you, Kazuha imploringly tips his head to one side. “I mean you no disrespect or ill will, shinobi. It’s just that I’d rather not have to fight those of the fairer sex, if I can help it.” 

You archly lift a brow at that. “Are you underestimating me?” 

“Hardly. I can tell at just a glance that you’re a talented and experienced combatant, make no mistake. But I also see that you have no killing intent for me. Typically I only fight women when they’re willing to run me through.” 

“Ah, is that your type then?” 

He smiles at that, meeting your sly little smirk tit for tat. “Very much so. I will admit, you’re quite captivating though. Alas, if only you’d tried to disembowel me.”

“Yes, if only.” 

It takes a great deal of effort on your part not to laugh at his soft wheedling but you manage, somehow. 

Crossing your arms over your stomach, you instead look at him down the length of your nose to ensure he didn’t mistake the semi friendly banter for niceness. He was your prisoner until you handed him off to the Tenryou Commission and you couldn’t afford to let him forget that. 

Even putting that aside though you still had to figure out what you were going to do with him in the meantime. After tracking him across half of Inazuma on a largely wild goose chase you’d at last managed to corner the slippery ronin in an old, abandoned inn where he’d stopped to rest. Pretending to be a simple peasant girl fleeing the mountains, you’d easily cozied your way up to him long enough to strike, disarm him and then tie him up so he couldn’t run off. 

But that was about as far as you’d planned and you hadn’t given much thought to how you were going to cart him all the way back to the city. In truth you’d fully expected to fail in this endeavor so you hadn’t thought you would need to figure this part out. If you undid the ropes around his ankles to make him walk with you there was a very good chance he might try scurrying off at the first opportunity. You couldn’t exactly carry him all the way on your back either though, and it seemed unlikely that you’d find a conveniently placed wheelbarrow to stick him in. 

Dammit. Now what were you supposed to do?

“Is something wrong, miss?” He softly hedges when your expression slowly darkens to match your souring mood. 

“Not at all. In fact, I’ve never been happier.” You say, deliberately keeping your tone light so as not to tip him off that something was amiss. Best not to let him get any funny ideas. “You’re going to be my ticket out of here, Kaedehara. The shogunate is willing to pay a very hefty sum for you.” 

“So I’ve heard. And please, call me Kazuha. There’s no need for formalities.” 

Shooting him a quick look of warning, you nudge your chin up in defiance of his friendly entreaty. “Don’t get cute. You’re still my prisoner and that means you’re at my mercy until I hand you over to the Shogunate.” 

“My sincere apologies then. But if I may ask, how do you intend to accomplish that? I can’t exactly walk like this.” Gesturing towards his bound legs with a pointed nudge of his body, Kazuha looks at you in a way that seems at complete odds with what he’s saying. His expression reads that of a guileless, unassuming youth who was more inclined to trust strangers than not, but for him to ask that … was he really so sharp that he’d picked up on your lack of adequate planning this quickly? 

You’d almost feel embarrassed at how ill prepared you actually are, if only you weren’t frantically trying to keep your calm in the face of his simple scrutiny. 

“I’m not sure why you think I’d tell you my whole plan, just like that, but I can assure you I - -“

“You don’t have one, do you?” 

Allowing yourself to trail off, you irritably narrow your eyes at him. He was really pushing it. “What makes you say that? Don’t even think about playing these little mind games with me, Kaedehara. I promise it won’t work.” 

His smile grows by a very small margin, looking up at you as peaceful and serene as any pious monk. It strikes you as a little odd, if you’re being honest, and you quickly realize that you have no idea what to make of this guy. He didn’t seem to you like the samurai you’d expected him to be, especially not one who would have such a large bounty on their head. Was this really the right person? 

A mild pang of uncertainty creeps through your chest at that thought, but before you can spiral into full blown panic thinking you’ve apprehended an innocent man he draws a calm breath to speak again. 

“If I were to play games with you, miss, I can assure you it wouldn’t be like this. I’m much more inclined towards battles fought between the sheets when it comes to lovely maidens such as yourself. Had you given me the chance to stand off with you there rather than here, I’m sure you wouldn’t have found my blade quite so easily disarmed.” 

Your eyes widen slightly, flustered heat shooting across your face with the implicit understanding of what he was saying. So it was like that then. Kaedehara Kazuha was a silver tongued cad who evidently thought he could smooth talk his way out of this problem with his soft spoken voice and flowery expressions. It irritates you precisely because it probably would have worked in almost any other situation. He was quite handsome, you couldn’t deny that. 

But if you allowed yourself to be tempted and swayed at this crucial junction after all the hard work you’d put in just to even find him, all of that effort would have been in vain. You had to keep your wits about you with this one, clearly. 

Deciding to call his bluff, you step forward as you drop your hands down to brace them on your hips in what you hoped was a confident and casual pose. He tips his head back to keep his attention on your face when you saunter right up to him, still looking as placid as could be. That just further annoys you when it was so clear you should have had the upper hand in this situation, but someone on the outside looking in probably wouldn’t have guessed that given how plainly unconcerned he was about being your prisoner. Without any context it probably looked like the two of you were playing a consensual but perverted game with each other. 

You couldn’t abide by that though, not when your future might very well ride entirely on turning him over to the Tenryou Commission. Shinobi were only as valuable as the master they served, after all, and as someone who answered to no lord that meant you were as much a criminal as any other until you could buy your freedom to go somewhere else. Drastic measures were needed here if you didn’t want this to get any further out of your control than it already was.  

Quickly cobbling together a haphazard plan of action, you silently slide your right foot out of its wooden sandal and bring it up to press on the center of his lap. Kazuha’s breath hitches, eyes widening just enough to register surprise as he tips his chin down to look at what you’re doing, but that’s all the reaction you get. You can just feel the faint, bulgy outline of his genitals under your heel through his clothes, and you slowly push down on it to make him subtly squirm. Well, at least that was a little better. 

“What’s wrong, Kaedehara? I thought you said this blade wouldn’t be so easily disarmed?” 

His shoulders rising with the slow breath he pulls in, the pale haired samurai carefully tips his face back up to look at you from under the fall of his bangs. Still soft and winsome, but was that a glint of interest you saw reflecting in his pretty eyes? 

“Your technique is bold and quite forward. I like that, but this isn’t enough to truly test my blade's mettle yet. See for yourself what it’s capable of, miss.” 

A pang of genuine annoyance lights up inside your chest, making you frown. Was he seriously challenging you over this? Kazuha was either a fool or a masochist, possibly even some deadly combination of the two, and you meanly grind your foot down in retaliation. The sensation of the fleshy bits of him squishing under the force gives you a vague sense of satisfaction, but it’s nothing compared to the feeling you get when he rumbles a faltering sound of discomfort. 

Fine. If this was how he wanted to play you’d give it to him. 

“Something tells me you’re still underestimating me.” You intone, deliberately keeping your voice neutral and gentle to contrast with the rough treatment. “But you seem to be forgetting that you’re at my mercy and I get to call the shots. If I wanted to slit your throat there wouldn’t be a damn thing you could do about it.” 

“You won’t, though.” He murmurs quietly, bowing his head over your foot once again. 

“Maybe not. But I can still make you beg for my forgiveness in other ways.” 

Slowly, you shift the motion of your foot from pressing to rubbing, sliding it back and forth over his concealed length. Kazuha whimpers ever so softly as he starts to fidget under the stilted ministration, rocking subtly on his knees. You can feel his length twitching underneath you, starting to stir, and you find a great deal of unexpected pleasure in gradually working him up to full stiffness with the cruel treatment. 

He turns out to be surprisingly receptive to this kind of stimulation and it doesn’t take long for his cock to turn rigid and stiff, pitifully flexing up against the arch of your foot in search of more friction. Deciding to give it to him, you settle the center of your outstretched limb over his lap and lean your weight into him, gradually sinking down into the soft give of his body to pin his cock there. An appropriately tender gasp slips out of him in response and he shakes for you, stiff and halting where he’s knelt there on the floor. 

This isn’t enough to get the message across though, and he clearly hasn’t learned his lesson yet so you retract your foot to rebalance your weight. Going down onto one knee in front of him so you can tip your head, finding his shuttered eyes under the curtain of his hair, you give him a coy little smile. 

“You certainly seem eager.” Tauntingly cooing at him now, you reach out with one finger to nudge at the hard weight of him pressing up on the front of his pants. “What kind of man gets excited over something like this? I bet you’ll be quite popular in prison before they execute you.” 

Breathing out a shuddering laugh, Kazuha rouses himself enough to straighten up from the defensive hunch he’d fallen into so he can look you in the face. “As I’m sure you will also be, in the cell right next to mine. Or who knows? Perhaps we’ll even be roommates and then we can continue this game as much as we like.” 

You can’t quite catch your reaction and stop it, stiffening with a subdued jolt. “How do you know about that?” 

“I’m a wanted fugitive, miss, not an idiot. I’ve seen the bounty posters just as I’m sure you have. I’ll admit your disguise work is good. I didn’t recognize you at first but … up close like this I can see it.” Almost thoughtfully tipping his head to the side, Kazuha studies you for another moment longer before going on. “It’s the eyes, I think. You’re a beautiful woman, especially for a shinobi. I’d be hard pressed not to remember a face like yours no matter how you change your hair or your clothes. Do you really think you can just hand me over to them and walk away?” 

Indignantly stammering for a moment, you fumble for something to say to that. He had a lot of nerve talking to you like that and insinuating you were running a fool's errand on behalf of the Tenryou Commission. 

“Even if they were to recognize me,” You finally hiss. “Your bounty is still much greater than mine. They’ll take you as the priority and thank me for my service.” 

“At the same time that they’re placing you under arrest right alongside me. I may be the priority but you would be their second place consolation prize.” 

“Why you - -“

Voice rattling with impotent rage, you jerk back from him to narrow your eyes to dangerous slits. He just stares at you though, completely unconcerned about you or what you might choose to do to him, or even the straining tent in his lap. Dammit. He was doing too good a job of getting you riled up while maintaining his own cool. You couldn’t allow him to keep running his mouth like this. 

Decisively pushing up to your feet, you gather the bottom hem of your yukata so you can reach underneath, fumbling to get your fingers hooked in the band of your underwear. Kazuha just watches you do it with a look that you think means he was under the impression he’s somehow won, that his frustratingly smooth words of reason have gotten through to you. It’s not in your nature to give in so easily though, and you quickly yank your panties down so you can step out of them. 

Holding them balled up in one fist, you reach out to snag a biting fist full of his enviously soft hair so you can keep him held in place as you bend down. He tries to yank his head to the side when you bring your underwear close to his face but you just follow after him, shoving them against his lips hard enough to make him noise a plaintive yet muffled sound. It takes a prolonged moment for you to force him to open up, all his squirming making it even more difficult, but you at last get your panties stuffed inside to gag him with them. 

You quickly slap that hand over his mouth to keep him from spitting them out while he noises wordless protests, straightening up so you can circle around to the back of him. Keeping his head firmly pressed back into your lower stomach, only allowing him enough range of movement to pitifully wriggle, you reach back into the band of your obi to pull out another short length of rope. 

This you twine around his head, ignoring Kazuha’s increasingly frantic sounds as you work to pull the twined fiber across his lips so you can then yank it snug, forcing his teeth to part and bite down on the rope. Feeling really quite pleased with yourself now, you carefully work to tie it off at the back of his head to make sure he can’t say anything else about it for the time being. Even if he was in all likelihood probably right, you didn’t really want to hear it right now. 

“There. That’s better.” 

Padding back around to the front of him, you smirk at the helpless look he shoots you to go with the stifled whimpers that slip out of him. Yes, this was much preferable. 

Going back down onto your knees again, you eagerly reach for the front of his pants to tug at the tie around his waist, making him squirm again. There’s absolutely nothing he can do about it though, and with an insistent rustle of fabric, you get his hakama inched down enough to expose the fundoshi underneath. 

His cock is standing straight up through the thin cloth, clearly showing the weighty outline of him as if there wasn’t even a barrier there standing in the way. The white material is so clean and soft that you can clearly make out a wet spot bleeding into it where his tip is tightly pressed, making it almost translucent. So he was enjoying this after all, but for how long? 

Feeling more than just a little devious now, you reach into the wide sleeve of your yukata to pull out a sharp kunai. Kazuha’s eyes widen slightly at this, another weak sound coming from him when you bring it close. For a drawn out moment you just tease him with the threat, suggestively tracing the very pointy tip of the weapon over his bulge. It’s not hard to see that it makes him nervous having a blade that close to his genitals, and your own excitement starts to ratchet up when he shoots you a pleading look. 

“Isn’t this what you wanted, Kaedehara? I thought you invited me to test the mettle of your blade with mine.”

He gives his head a brief shake, making you laugh at his powerlessness. So much for his silver tongue. 

Finally turning your wrist, you slip the blade underneath the fabric where it’s just ever so slightly lifted from the sheer rigidness of his erection. The sensation of it scraping lightly over his sensitive skin has him trembling fiercely, his whimpering breaths coming quicker through his nose now. You merely flick it upward to catch the fundoshi though, slicing right through it with a little jerk of your hand. He visibly relaxes his shoulders in response, swaying slightly in his knelt position while you use your kunai to nudge what was left of the undergarments aside. 

And his cock readily spills out into the open, still flushed and leaking from your earlier abuse. Taking care to slip the knife back inside your sleeve where he wasn’t likely to start getting any bright ideas, you bring your hand down to wrap the fingers around him where it had pitifully slumped to the side against his thigh. It seemed your teasing had been enough to nearly deter his erection but it immediately flexes in your hold, stirring right back to full hardness again in the time it takes you to blink. 

His skin is so smooth and silky soft that you can’t deny yourself the urge to just feel over him for a savory moment, appreciatively dragging your hand from the base where coarse pubic hair just tickles your knuckles straight up to the fleshy tip to smear sticky discharge across your palm. In truth he was a bit bigger than you’d expected him to be and nicely shaped, and you think in a different life you may have been more compelled to climb on top of him so you could take him inside your body.

Instead, you gradually settle into a steady rhythm that has him roughly breathing through his nose, his cheeks growing pinker the more you pump him. The motion of your hand slowly nudges his ballsack to slip out as well, leaving the fleshy globes pathetically resting in the cradle of his thighs. 

“Don’t you just look pitiful right now.” You purr at him, maintaining the slow, evenly cantered pace of your arm as you jerk him off. “Is this the sort of battle you were hoping to have with me, Kaedehara? Hm? I wonder how long you’ll last like this …” 

“Mmphh! Mmhhn mmm …” 

Looking really quite sad now, Kazuha stiffly hunches forward as if to somehow protect himself from the full brunt of your punishment but he’s completely helpless like this. All he can do is silently watch your hand work over his cock until a sticky wet click starts up where more eager precum was beading underneath the foreskin. You can tell it feels good though, both in the very flushed, hazy quality of his face as much as the way his hips stiffly twitch and roll into the motion of your ministrations. He probably wasn’t overly pleased about the reaction of his body but there would be no denying his pleasure. 

Still teasing him with softly spoken words, you wait until the tension running through his body seems to reach its breaking point and his posture turns even more stiff before slowly pulling your hand away. Confused surprise registers in his expression for all of half a second and then he screws his eyes shut, groaning a frustrated sound through the gag while he shakes his head. 

Sitting back to watch, you decide you very much like the way he desperately twists and bucks on his knees, trying as hard as he can to give his leaking cock a chance to spill over into release, but it’s no use. Without the direct contact of your fingers on him his length can only bob and flex in the air without finding any stimulation there at all, and his impending orgasm merely fades away right before your very eyes. 

He’s panting so heavily his entire frame seems to heave with the rapid expansion of his lungs when he finally goes still again, having no choice but to give up now. You decide you like that quite a bit more than you would have expected to, carefully reaching out to take him in your hand again. 

“Mmph! Mmnnghh!” 

Tossing his head back at your touch, Kazuha plaintively shakes before you, trying again to jut his hips up to fuck himself into your fist. Using just your fingertips to barely touch him, you carefully pull down on the fleshy exterior of his throbbing length to ease his foreskin back with a sticky click. The head is flushed dark and rosy, glinting wetly in the sunlight that streams in from one of the old broken windows on the adjacent wall. 

“Poor thing. You look like you really need to cum. Do you think I should keep touching you?” 

He stiltedly nods, staring at you with those big, wetly glistening eyes. Something told you if you just pushed him a little more you could probably make him cry, and that sounds surprisingly tempting in the moment. 

“I could help you out but,” Slyly roving your attention back down to his needy, twitching cock, you allow yourself a sharp little smirk. “We don’t want you making a mess everywhere, do we? Maybe I should plug you up for a moment.” 

Outright jolting at that, Kazuha noises a plainly horrified sound as he helplessly watches you reach up with your opposite hand to slip one of the bamboo sticks out of your hair. It’s lacquered and smooth, decorated on one end with a little dangling charm in the shape of a blooming sakura bud while the other was rounded and smooth. You’d never tried anything like this with them before but you were relatively certain the width is narrow enough to fit — although Kazuha does not seem to be in agreement with that estimation. 

He anxiously rocks back on his knees, trying to shirk away from you, but you just drop the hand on his cock down to grip the base and hold him still. Sucking in such ragged breaths you think he might make himself feel faint if he keeps it up, he turns his face away so he won’t have to see you bringing the stick close to his weeping glans. 

Taking a moment to smear the dull end through all the copious slick oozing out of him to make sure it’s nice and lubricated first, you find that your own excitement is starting to ratchet up to a truly uncomfortable level now. You were admittedly rather tempted to straddle him and use his body for your own pleasure, but not before you’d made your point. 

This should teach him to be more careful about what he says to people. 

“I’ll give you credit, Kaedehara. You were right. This blade has not been as easily dealt with as your sword was. I hope you enjoy this reward for all of your hard work today.” 

He full on wails behind the gag in response but you just ignore him, much too focused on swirling the end of the stick up to nudge it at the slit along his cock head. It’s fleshy and well coated from all the excitable discharge coming out of him, and it gives slightly under the pressure you apply. Kazuha dizzily sways while you work to slip the smooth tip in, prodding at him insistently until you at last manage to get it wedged just inside the glans. 

From there it’s a little bit easier to work it in deeper now that the interior passage of him was fitted to the shape of your hair accessory, but you still have to go slow so as not to truly hurt him. Even for as much as he’d pissed you off earlier, you didn’t really want him bleeding out on you should you get a bit too impatient and shove it in too fast.

Despite how slow the process actually is, his urethra accepts the intrusion surprisingly well. You can feel when it reluctantly gives another millimeter, allowing you to slide in just a little bit deeper, until you at last have it inserted far enough that you don’t have to keep holding it anymore. 

Carefully slow to ensure his cock had a good grip on it, you gradually pull your hand back to admire your handiwork. And what a sight it is, his face flushed intoxicatingly red and coated in a heavy sheen of sweat that makes his hair stick to the skin in a few spots. His pretty eyes are dazed and shuttered, staring off into the far distance as if in a doped out stupor as they swim with largely unshed moisture. He’s right on the verge though, and that pleases you a great deal, as do the full bodied tremors wracking through his painfully stiff frame. 

And sitting so pretty in his lap, Kazuha’s cock stands straight up in the air as stiff and throbbingly rigid as could be with your hair stick shooting out of the end of it. The tiny sakura charm bobbles softly with each and every little flex of his straining length, every shudder of his body, and you can tell the additional weight of it is slowly dragging at his erection. It must be uncomfortable for him though, because every time it starts to droop down he quickly rushes to flex the muscle, tightly holding it in place to keep himself upright. 

You’d never seen anything more erotic in your entire life, if you were being honest. 

Your own breath is coming a bit quicker now as you reach back out again to wrap the fingers around the base of his shaft, making him frantically wail an incomprehensible plea through the panties stuffed inside his mouth. But you don’t pay it any mind though, giving him a brief squeeze before tauntingly dragging your loose fist up along his cock to make sure he feels the unrelenting object inside his penis. Gods, you could have played with him for days like this. 

“Don’t worry, Kaedehara.” You murmur, not even trying to hide the faint tremble of arousal in your voice now while you work your hand back down to complete the pumping motion. “I’ll let you cum once I’m satisfied, but not a moment before. And don’t you dare forget you’re at my mercy ever again.”

⭐

Crossposted: here

[mediumtires]

Hi! First, love your writing! Do you do commissions for writing fanfic and/or would you?

hello hello, i’ve never thought about doing commissions for fic but i think i’d lean towards no? first of all i can barely get my own writing together at the best of times so dealing with deadlines and expectations would probably make it even worse and second i literally have no clue how that would work. do people write fic for money? would it be a “the internet runs on love” ala shirky thing? either way, don’t know enough about this and also i have no time unfortunately, would take me a year to get a one shot done fr fr

[thesillygoosetapes]

Shenanigans and Dates

Word Count: 2078

POV: Third Person

Commission for: Kira

Note: this was actually one of my favorite commissions to write due to how silly Moze and Kira are. this is oc x cc so if you do not like that please turn away!! I have permission from Kira to post this!!

The early morning peeked through the curtains of Kira’s shared apartment with Moze. Kira and Moze were in bed together, snuggled up against one another, their bodies pressed flushed to each other. It was a moment that Kira wished he could capture with a camera and treasure it forever, but unfortunately all good things must come to an end. Kira had to travel with the Astral Express today, something about going to Penacony. Kira would much rather spend the rest of his days here on the Luofu with Moze, but everyone has a job they’d rather leave.

Kira turned around to meet with Moze face-to-face. He was still peacefully sleeping; his entire body relaxed and his sleeping expression free of any tension. There was a tiny part of them that wanted to stay in bed all day with Moze, hugged up against each other as the only thing heard was the soft rhythmic breathing of the two. But alas, not everything good could last forever, and in this case Kira had to get out of the grip Moze had on him.

“Moze…” Kira said which was met with a grumble. “Moze…”

“What?” he said in his morning voice.

“You gotta let me go.”

“Not if I don’t have to,” he said, bringing Kira closer to him.

Kira huffed, thinking of the wrath Himeko would unleash if Kira was late. Himeko was a nice boss, don’t get him wrong, but she was very particular about everyone being present on the Astral Express. The last time someone was late it was March 7th, and she reprimanded her for being late saying it was important for Trailblazers to be punctual. Kira did not want to be on the other end of her reprimands.

Kira reached over to get his phone, even with Moze holding him tightly Kira could still reach for their phone. Sending a quick text to Himeko telling her to give Kira the day to spend with Moze. At least, then, Himeko could give the go ahead instead of Kira just doing it without her permission. A simple ‘Kay’ back was all Kira needed to sigh in relief. Kira smiled and turned around to start pushing Moze.

“Wha-” he sounded a bit confused and groggy, “what?”

“We have the rest of the day together.” Kira said, beaming at him with a smile. “Come on! I don’t want to spend the rest of the day in bed.”

“I would…” Moze grumbled, but got up anyway to start getting ready.

“Don’t be such a downer,” Kira teased, “come on! We have the rest of the day to ourselves!”

“But you have to leave,” he said, pulling on his gear. “And I don’t like that.”

“I don’t like it either, but we’ll have the rest of the day with each other.” Kira shrugged, pulling on his clothes. “I’d rather spend the rest of the day with you than asleep.”

Which is how they ended up walking on the pier of the Luofu. Moze was quiet for the most part, looking up at the artificial sky of the Luofu as he and Kira walked together. He was like that any time they spent any time together. Quiet, yet thoughtful. He was the ‘spending time together’ lover rather than anything else. Most of their time would be spent doing one thing or another; Kira on their computer doing work and Moze planning. That was his usual idea of a date, so this was new territory for him.

“So, what do you think of this part of the Xianzhou?” Kira asked.

“The Luofu?” he questioned. “Not bad. It’s not like home, though. Not like the Yaoqing.”

He couldn’t lie, he did miss the Yaoqing. It was different from the Luofu, and a part of home where he felt comfortable in. All the Xianzhou were similar in some way, but the Yaoqing was just…different. It was home, it was light, it was pleasant. It wasn’t like the Luofu, which Moze had his own reservations about, but he wouldn’t talk bad about the Luofu to anyone’s face. He knew he represented toe Yaoqing, so he just kept his opinions to himself. Even walking around now, he could point out differences that made the Yaoqing better than the Luofu.

“You never talk about the Yaoqing,” Kira said to him, “what makes it more home than the Luofu?”

“It’s just…home.” Moze shrugged. “The plaguemark is different, though.”

“Oh, really? What’s the plaguemark of the Yaoqing?”

“A moon. It…changes people, gives them the ability to shapeshift. Much like the mara-struck people of the Luofu, we have the borisin.”

“Almost like werewolves.”

“Exactly like werewolves.”

Kira and Moze heard someone jogging up behind them with a ‘Wait! Wait!’ which caused the two to turn around to see the one and only Jiaoqiu.

“Finally!” Jiaoqiu said, out of breath apparently. “I found you two. I checked your apartment and couldn’t find you so I figured you must be out.”

“What do you want?” Moze asked, a bit questioningly with his arms crossed.

“Feixiao got you two reservations at Les Amoureux.” he said, somehow still out of breath, his ears twitching a little.

“Isn’t that a couples thing?” Kira asked. “Not like I’m opposed to it, but, like, it’s where couples hang out. It’s not really an eating place.”

“That’s where I come in!” he gleamed.

“No,” Kira and Moze said in unison.

“Come on!” Jiaoqiu said. “I won’t do anything to your food. I promise. Scouts honor.”

The last time Jiaoqiu fixed food for people he put laxatives in their food. Thankfully the malice wasn’t directed to Kira or Moze, but it certainly was a situation. Jiaoqiu was a lively individual who looked nice and sweet on the outside but was secretly a rascal on the inside. Kira didn’t doubt that Jiaoqiu would do anything to their food, but there was still that fear of unknowing with Jiaoqiu. He was foxian, sly as a fox after all.

“Just, come on! Follow me.”

After a few moments of hesitation Moze and Kira followed Jiaoqiu to Les Amoureux. Les Amoureux was a nice little open air spot near the edge of the Luofu for couples to hang out at. Moze and Kira had never been there themselves, but had no reason to. They could spend their time at home in the safety of each other's company without calling it a ‘date’ or needing some special place to be called romantic.

There were absolutely zero people when they stepped into the place. It almost felt like a ghost town when they entered. This was unusual for the Les Amoureux. Everyday there were always people in the place, sitting, eating, and having dates of their own. Moze and Kira would pass by the place almost every day during their day trips around the Luofu. 

“Feixiao rented the place out for you two.” Jiaoqiu said.

“Really?” Kira asked, “Just for us?”

“She knew you were leaving with the Astral Express soon,” Jiaoqiu said, leading them to a table, “well, not really. She just noticed Moze was sadder than usual.”

“I’m not sad.” Moze crossed his arms looking away.

“You are so.” Jiaoqiu said, now it's his turn to cross his arms. “He’s gonna miss you, Kira.”

“Shut up will you?” Moze said, pushing Jiaoqiu out of the Les Amoureux. “Just get the food like a good foxian.”

Kira could help but laugh at this as he sat down. Moze was always like this, never admitting to what he actually felt. He was a blunt individual, but when it came to his own emotions he stuffed them down until they didn’t exist anymore. Moze didn’t really understand his own emotions, and instead chose to run away from them. So when he started feeling this bubbling sense of uncertainty in his stomach he ignored it, choosing to pretend everything was normal. He knew it wasn’t healthy, but, hey, it kept him alive this far.

The sun was now set at mid afternoon (they must’ve woken up late) when they arrived and sat down. The area really was deserted, no one even passed through the Les Amoureux. It was like the entire block was rented out for the time being. Jiaoqiu came back with the drinks (apparently this was a fixed menu for them) and set them down on the table.

“Why is no one else here? I mean, usually there would be people passing by and whatnot.” Kira asked.

“Feixiao rented out the entire block,” ah, so just as Kira had guessed, “asked Jing Yuan for a special favor and all. Real VIP treatment if you ask me.”

“But…why?” Moze asked.

“Because she thought you needed it,” Jiaoqiu told him, “she doesn’t want you to be moping around, after all.”

Jiaoqiu left them to their devices, presumably to get the food. They sat in silence for a few minutes, basking in each other's company.  Kira decided to break it, wondering what Moze’s thoughts were. “So, what do you think about all of this?”

“I didn’t expect Feixiao to do this,” Moze said, looking around at the Les Amoureux. “We could have just stayed in.”

“Jiaoqiu would have dragged us out of bed,” Kira chuckled, “you heard him. Feixiao booked this for us without us knowing.”

“Is this what you want?” Moze whispered to Kira. “A dinner date?”

“Not entirely,” Kira shook his head, “I just wanted to spend time with you.”

“Want to leave?” he offered. “I mean, we would stay here and enjoy the food, but if that’s not what you want…”

Kira looked at Jiaoqiu who was working away at the grill and back to Moze and nodded. The both of them secretly got up and made their way to the opposite side of Les Amoureux, then they made a dash for it. Jiaoqiu was left by himself until he turned around with a ‘hmph?’ and then an exasperated sigh. Moze and Kira were huffing and trying to gather their breaths as they ran from the pier. 

Moze and Kira looked at each other, before laughing at the absurdity of their actions. There was something sweet about Moze’s laugh. He barely laughed, but when he did it was like sunshine on a spring morning, or the morning dew right after rain. The way he had dimples whenever he would smile, and the way Kira could see the crows feet in his eyes. Very rarely did Moze allow himself to experience emotions, but when he did, it was a magical thing.

“You’re pretty when you smile.” Kira said, approaching him.

Very softly, Kira put a hand to Moze’s cheek, holding him in an embrace. His eyes widened, and a slight dust of pink showed across his cheeks. He never knew how to reciprocate this emotion, this feeling, so he instinctively backed up. One moment after another, Moze tripped backwards and grabbed onto Kira, and Kira grabbed onto him. There was a loud crash, and an ‘oof!’ from the both of them as they crashed into each other.

“Sorry.” Moze mumbled, rubbing the back of his head.

“Oh, uh,” Kira soon realized the position they were both in.

Kira was on top of Moze, both hands on either side of him, as he sat underneath, rubbing the back of his head. Moze didn’t realize at first, seeing the uncertain expression on Kira’s face and the way he was avoiding Moze’s eyes. Then Moze looked down, seeing the predicament they were in, and his ears got red this time. Moze thought this a perfect moment, and kissed Kira.

He was soft and sweet, just like his personality (if you could get past the wall he put up.) The way that he held Kira close to him; the way his hand held Kira’s face so softly that it was like holding glass. The way he was careful with him, holding him like a piece of fine china. Moze pulled away, taking in a deep breath and watching Kira’s expression. Kira looked away, clearly embarrassed by the situation, but lightly pushed Moze.

“You could warn me next time.” Kira mumbled.

Moze chuckled, ruffling his black hair, and gave him another chaste kiss. “Why warn you?”

Kira stood up, sighing and brushing off any nonexistent dirt. They looked at their phone and sighed. “I have to leave.”

“I figured,” Moze said, following suit and getting up. “I’ll miss you.” he said, quietly, holding onto them.

“I know,” Kira whispered back against his lips.

[cinnaminsvga]

a love that endures | Yoongi

→ summary: 

“Oh come on! Just go say hi to him already,” Seokjin huffs. He wiggles his eyebrows, striking you with the urge to shave them off in retaliation. “I could feel your ‘God, I miss his dick’ vibes from across the room!”

“I do not emit dick thirst vibes,” you respond hotly, swatting him in the tit. You pause, considering. “Wait, but do you think he misses my p—”

“Say no more,” Seokjin interrupts, a wicked smirk gracing his lips. His gaze is fixed somewhere behind you, but you have a sinking suspicion you know why he looks like he’s won the lottery. “Speaking of the devil, look who’s coming over to say hello!”

{or alternatively: Yoongi and Y/N. Y/N and Yoongi. High school sweethearts that were never meant to last, until a reunion ten years later manages to reignite a flame that never quite burnt out.} 

→ genre: high school reunion!au, exes to lovers, fluff, humor, minor angst → warnings: shy!yoongi and shy!oc live rent free in my brain, mutual pining is poggers, hoseok and seokjin aren’t evil for once in a cinnaminsvga fic, implied smut so it’s pg-13 because i’m a wimp → words: 14.4K → a/n: SHE’S ALIVE!! this is dedicated to @himbeaux-joon​ who commissioned this piece ages ago. thank you again for requesting this because this was honestly so much fun to write. i’ve been in a bit of writing slump these past few weeks but this fic came out so easily and got way longer than expected (perhaps because it’s about yoongi and he’s always been the easiest one to write for me). enjoy!! ;o;

The mere sight of him is enough to knock the wind out of you.

Your body freezes, the hand curled around your paper cup filled with punch tightening ever so slightly. It isn’t like you’re surprised that he came; you aren’t supposed to be. Of course, you should have expected his arrival, but you’ve been hoping all night that he might have been too busy to attend.

He isn’t even on time—it has almost been two hours since the event started and you had been filled with a false hope that perhaps he had RSVP’d and decided he couldn’t make it. 

You had seen Hoseok, his best friend from your younger days, standing outside the entrance of the ballroom before they had started letting people in. The moment Hoseok saw you, he immediately came over to sweep you into a tight hug, his infectious laughter ringing in your ears. He had greeted you happily, expressing how much he missed you since high school, but never once bringing up the elephant in the room.

It wasn’t like you were going to bring him up first. No, that would be weird on your part. Nevermind the fact that going to high school reunions was a recipe for reliving past traumas and seeing all your childhood friends either married or pregnant—you weren’t going to be that person who asked where their ex was. You refused to be the person craning their neck to spy on the entrance every two minutes, hoping to catch sight of an old familiar face.

The problem is that you are that person, and you kind of hate yourself for it. However, it is also the reason why you are probably the only person in the entire ballroom who notices his quiet arrival.

He has never liked causing commotions, which is often apparent from the way he conducts himself. He walks into the room just as a loud round of applause breaks out; an old schoolmate of yours is walking up to the podium, probably the person who had arranged the get-together in the first place. It is a perfect distraction for him as he slinks past the door, keeping near the wall so as not to be seen by anyone just yet.

(Except he has been seen—he just doesn’t know it yet.)

You do not know for how long you stare at him, just that it takes you a moment to realize you haven’t taken a breath since he stepped foot into the same space as you. You take a deep, shuddering breath, forcing your racing heartbeat to calm down. You swallow thickly, throat so unbearably dry that even drinking from your lukewarm cup of punch doesn’t seem to do anything.

But the undeniable truth is there, standing only a few meters away from you, and nothing on earth will be able to wash away the nerves flooding through your system.

After ten years of radio silence, Min Yoongi is in your orbit once again.

In the grand scheme of things, ten years wasn’t all that long. Four years in university had passed by in a blur, and the absolute chaos that ensued right after you graduated as you scrambled to secure a job and move out of your hometown had made the days seem shorter than they actually were. You had not even noticed that time was passing until you found that cream envelope waiting for you one day after work, your alma mater’s school crest painfully recognizable even after all these years.

During all that time, the world around you shifted without you noticing, and that meant people were changing too.

Yoongi is 28 now. And so are you, after many months of denial. You have not seen each other since you were both 18—both of you far too young to know about any of the things you would experience in the next ten years.

He might have grown a little taller since then, something you are sure that your brother will find amusing. His hair isn’t dyed like you remembered, as he has opted to keep it his natural dark black that you have not seen since you were both in middle school. It’s styled differently too: combed over and gelled back, with his bangs pushed back and his forehead exposed. When he turns his head to the side, a gasp spills past your lips before you can stop it.

“Is that a fucking undercut?” you mutter in shock, your eyes straining out of their sockets as you try to drink him in. Even under the dim lighting of the ballroom, his new haircut is hard to miss. No one else seems to be undergoing the same mental collapse as you, judging by how everyone’s attention is still fixated on the person speaking at the podium. How the hell is no one else losing their fucking minds to the sight of Min Yoongi with a fucking undercut? Some questions are impossible to answer, you surmise.

When you decided to attend the reunion, you had not once thought about how Yoongi would look like. Somehow, you had developed this stagnant picture of him in your head, even after all these years. To you, he will always be the boy with the stark blonde hair, the mismatched eyelids, the pouty lips, the dumpling cheeks. He is the boy who can’t wear his own contact lenses to save his life, the boy who sometimes wears his favorite leather jacket to sleep, the boy who only drinks Americanos like it was water.

Gone are those days, you realize. That image of him has been smashed to pieces, instead replaced by this dashing (and incredibly hot) man—a stranger. A stranger with unbleached (and healthy) hair, a jawline sharp enough to cut glass. He has his glasses kept away, and there is no leather jacket in sight.

But you can see him, if you look hard enough. The same spark in his eye, the same curve of his lips. You catch him smiling for a second, and his cheeks still puff up like dough. Maybe it’s just hopeless thinking, but you see him. It’s still him. To you, he will always be your 18-year-old Min Yoongi, the one who would greet you with a sweet kiss on the forehead every time you would—

Raucous applause breaks you from your train of thought, and you blink rapidly in surprise. You have to forcibly pull yourself out of your Yoongi-induced trance, clapping alongside everyone without really knowing what was going on. All of the extra noise sounds like buzzing in your ears, especially when it is drowned out by the roar of your blood rushing to your head all at once.

“Once again, I’d like to thank you all for coming tonight. We will begin the program right after dinner, so please feel free to help yourselves to the buffet! Cheers everyone!” You faintly hear your old schoolmate speak, before her voice is quickly overrun by the commotion of people walking over to the extravagant display of food. It takes a moment for the crowd of heads to disperse, so when you can finally look back to where you last saw Yoongi, he is no longer alone.

Hoseok has his arm slung around Yoongi, his infectious laughter loud enough to be heard over clinking plates and silverware. The two are as different as night and day, with Hoseok practically bouncing from excitement and Yoongi rolling his eyes from annoyance. But it is easy to see that his pout is nothing but a ruse; you can already catch the beginnings of a smile tugging at his lips.

You feel your own seams breaking, unwittingly sporting a grin of your own. It is nice to know that Yoongi hasn’t been alone all this time, that he still seems close with his old best friend. You cannot count the number of friendships that you have lost over time, and you still grieve many of them during your quiet moments. Alas, it was often never even anyone’s fault, the strains of adulthood often being the biggest deal breakers in your relationships.

That is, of course, except for one.

“Enjoying yourself? I didn’t think we’d share the same voyeuristic tendencies,” says a voice, creeping up behind you. Now, normal people would not usually expect other sane people to invade your personal space and breathe directly into your ear, but that’s just your humble opinion. What you do know is that one certain individual enjoys breaking the mold when it comes to societal norms, and it is none other than…

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You shriek, nearly sucker-punching the offending degenerate in the face. You hold back your fist from connecting with his face, but your resulting irritation remains. Whether that irritation is because you regret holding back or not will unfortunately also have to remain unanswered. “Oh God, it’s you.”

“Oh, no need for that. Most people usually call me Seokjin,” he snickers, thoroughly enjoying your flushed face. Kim Seokjin pats you on the shoulder, his trademark “pretty boy” smile still as radiant as you remembered. It does nothing to quell your urge to raise your fists again, however. “Hello, Y/N. Fancy seeing you here!”

“The feeling is not mutual,” you snort. Much like how Yoongi was with Hoseok, your derision is nothing but a rouse. As much as you want to kick Seokjin in the nuts, you also cannot ignore how much you want to hug him the slimy bastard—but you definitely will not be the first one to admit it. So like the tsundere that you are, you decide to insult him instead. “Why are you here? You’re not even from this class. Don’t you have other things to do? Or rather, people to do?”

“My heart! You wound me,” he gasps, grasping his chest as though he’d been shot. “How could you say that to your best friend in the entire world? Don’t you know how much I missed you?”

“Easy. I do it because the only other alternative would lead me straight to prison,” you shrug, but your grin betrays you.

This time, you don’t jolt away when he closes in for a hug. “And I guess I miss you too,” you say, your words slightly muffled into his chest. Like always, he sees through your prickly act because as much as you like to pretend, Kim Seokjin is kind of amazing—loose bolts and all.

“It’s nice to know that your tongue hasn’t lost its edge, though I suppose I wouldn’t be intimately knowledgeable in that area. After all, I still am very much a raging homosexual and pussy isn’t really my forte,” Seokjin guffaws, his volume causing a few nearby guests to raise their heads in alarm.

You bow at them, sheepishly apologizing on his behalf before grabbing him by the collar.

“Will you stop being embarrassing for just one second? I swear, I thought I retired from my babysitting job when I graduated high school,” you hiss, but the way his mouth curls up with mischief is answer enough. God, you missed this son of a bitch.

“Unfortunately for you, being a pest is part of my DNA,” he smirks, carefully plucking your hands off from his neck, as though your nails were not mere inches away from ripping his trachea into pieces. “Though, I am offended by your assumption that I am still the same slut that you knew. I’ve grown up a little, you know! I’m a changed man!”

“Oh, please. Don’t tell me you of all people have settled down,” you laugh, not missing the way Seokjin’s perfectly stenciled brow raises slightly.

“I know we haven’t seen each other since Christmas, but come on Y/N! You of all people should be applauding me for my improved behavior! You must have noticed how much I changed when I visited.”

“When you visited me last Christmas, you immediately insulted my taste in kitchen towels, went on Grindr to find a hookup despite my numerous pleas, and promptly desecrated my guest bedroom that no housekeeper or priest is willing to exorcise to this day,” you gag, shuddering at the memory. “And then you ate all my ice cream and proceeded to clog my toilet!”

“Um? Aren’t you forgetting that I also bought you that dress you wanted? Rude,” Seokjin retorts, not the least bit remorseful. “Well, that’s what you get for agreeing to be my best bitch for life. You know that I take pinky promises very seriously.”

Unfortunately, he does take his promises seriously. It is probably the only thing he’ll ever be serious about, as much as the man enjoys parading his depravity. “Okay, whatever. I’ll bite. Who’s the unlucky man you’ve managed to deceive into a relationship?”

“Oh, it’s someone we both used to know. I’m his plus one for tonight,” he says, supplying you with the most useless non-answer imaginable.

“Seokjin. We’re at a high school reunion. We know everyone here. That could be anyone!” you exclaim.

“Well, isn’t that fun? Then we can do a scavenger hunt!” Seokjin grins, clapping his hands together excitedly. He pulls you in front of him, forcing the two of you to survey the crowd. “Okay, hold your arm out like this—” After a few seconds of you failing to resist him, he manages to get you to unfurl your finger as if you were about to order something from the dollar menu at McDonalds. Unfortunately for you, the tall twink is stronger than he appears. “—and just keep pointing around until I tell you that you’re getting warmer!”

“Seokjin, I don’t think this is very—” you start, but Seokjin is already moving your arm for you. Like a hurricane, Kim Seokjin listens to no one but his own homewrecking whims.

“Park Chanyeol? Close, but not really. You should know that I don’t double dip with past flings,” he says, shifting you to the left. “Kim Namjoon? Now that’s a hunk of meat that I wish I’d taken a bite of, but unfortunately he’s as straight as a ruler. Pass,” he hums, continuing to move you bit by bit.

You’re both getting uncomfortably close to where Yoongi is, and Seokjin doesn’t appear to be stopping any time soon. You did notice that Yoongi had come dateless to the reunion (a fact, by the way, that you did not rejoice over when you had noticed), but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s single. You have known Seokjin for more than a decade at this point, and despite your odd friendship, you are sure that he would never do anything to hurt you on purpose.

Though, that does beg the question… How far does his dick thirst really go? Maybe you’ll finally find out today.

“Warmer, getting warmer…” Seokjin inches you closer and closer to where Yoongi is standing. You feel frozen in his grasp, unsure if you wanted to know anymore. If Seokjin really is dating Yoongi, then what? It’s not like you were dating him anyway… What difference does it make if it’s Seokjin?

(It makes all the difference, but you refuse to think about it.)

“Nope, not Wonho... A little bit to the left… Bingo!” Seokjin declares, stopping your finger right on— “No, Y/N! Stop moving! You’ve gone too far to the wall! I was pointing at him.”

“H-Hoseok? You’re dating Hoseok?!” You squeak, an avalanche of relief flooding through you. You don’t even have the energy to pretend to be composed as your entire body starts untensing involuntarily, your shoulders slumping as though a weight has been lifted from you. “Why couldn’t you have just told me like a normal person? Why must everything be tortuous and dramatic when it comes to you?”

“I am a naturally insufferable and theatrical person. Sue me,” he shrugs, greatly enjoying the exhausted look on your face. “What? Were you actually scared that I was dating your sloppy seconds? What do you think I am? An asshole?”

You stare at him. “Is that a rhetorical question?”

Seokjin scoffs. “If I wanted to get roasted, I would approach two tops at a gay bar.” He pauses. “Wait, are you seriously not going to congratulate me for finally snagging a boy who has a functioning moral compass?”

“Define ‘snagging.’ Did you, like, tie him up and blackmail him to become your boyfriend like those terrible One Direction Wattpad fanfics, or—” You stop halfway, giggling at your friend’s unamused pout. “Okay, okay. Yes, Seokjin. I am very proud of you. Congrats on finally becoming an adult. Your hoe days are over.”

“Who said they were over?” He snorts. Noticing your alarm, Seokjin rolls his eyes in exasperation. “Oh, don’t give me that look! I’m not into infidelity and you know that. I just meant that I’m still a hoe with significantly fewer options.”

“How did that even happen in the first place?” you say, jabbing your thumb in Hoseok’s direction. Thankfully, the man in question is still busy talking to Yoongi, though you don’t know for how much longer. If Seokjin isn’t lying, then there’s a high chance they’re going to walk over to say hi and you’re not sure if you’re mentally prepared to go through the five stages of grief all over again.

“Believe me, I’m surprised as well. I started dating Hoseok after he asked me for help with his sister’s wedding gift. He asked me to help arrange an itinerary for her sister’s honeymoon in America,” Seokjin explains with a dreamy smile. He sighs, holding a hand up to his chest. You can physically see the heart emojis circling his head like a halo. “We hit it off from there and dare I say… Not only is he the only person who can keep up with my high maintenance lifestyle, but dear Lord, he could totally be recruited into the NDA for his astounding dick game—”

“Ever heard of TMI? Gross,” you interrupt, your face crumpling in disgust. You shove him away when his loud cackles start rattling your eardrums.

“You were scared though, right?” he says through his giggles. “When you thought that I was dating Yoongi?”

Of course Seokjin had noticed your mini-mental breakdown, judging from the shit-eating grin on his face.

“N-no,” you stutter, but your heated cheeks and averted gaze give you away. “E-either way, I wouldn’t have cared if you did!” you say. You know, like a liar.

“I bet you don’t care that Yoongi got significantly hotter in the past ten years too, huh?” Seokjin teases, snickering loudly. Under the harsh lighting of the fluorescent chandelier lights, you might have mistaken the boy in front of you for the devil instead of your best friend of almost twenty years.

“I sincerely rue the day I introduced myself to you in the third grade,” you hiss, sipping from your cup to hide your humiliation.

“Aww, you’re so cute when you’re all embarrassed,” Seokjin coos, pinching your cheeks with the gentleness of an ape. You slap his hand away, unable to think of any retort.

“Cat got your tongue? You didn’t even deny it when I accused you,” Seokjin laughs. He claps his hands jovially, acting as though he’s enjoying a show at the circus. Given your performance tonight, that statement isn’t all that far from reality.

“I don’t need to defend myself from you,” you say, puffing your cheeks indignantly. “I just… think he looks handsome. Is that illegal or something?”

“Certainly not. Though, you might want to dial down the pining a teensy bit,” he singsongs. “That’s how I found you in the first place. I sensed your pining from a mile away and came as soon as I could!”

“I wasn’t pining!” you exclaim. “I was just… admiring the plant beside him.”

“Right, sure,” Seokjin says, arching an eyebrow in challenge. You feel your hackles rising at his smug expression, your ‘Seokjin-is-about-to-ruin-your-life’ alarm ringing in your ears. “So, you wouldn’t mind if I brought you over there to say hello? After all, my boyfriend is over there and as much as I enjoy pestering you, I also want to be with him very much.”

You whistle lowly, impressed. “Wow, that’s actually kind of sweet of you.”

“Yes, I know. Kim Seokjin’s heart grew three sizes that day, yada yada yada.” Seokjin says sarcastically, but his lovesick smile ruins the effect. When he opens his mouth once more, the mirage instantly disappears. “But you would understand if you saw how much he’s packing—”

“Shut up, I didn’t ask—”

“Fine, then let’s ask the man himself! Besides, you know you’re being ridiculous, right?” Seokjin tuts, annoyed. He fixes you with a glare, making you feel like a scolded child. “It’s just Yoongi. You and I both know he doesn’t have a mean bone in his body and probably would love to see you after so long.”

You wave your hands around helplessly, almost sloshing your drink onto a nearby bystander. After muttering a meek apology at your harried classmate, you turn back to Seokjin with a defeated sigh.

You know that he’s right, and you absolutely hate him for it. “Jinnie, I’m a mess! I can hardly think with Yoongi standing meters away from me, much less if he were to stand right in front of me! I’m just going to embarrass myself,” you lament, holding your head in your hand.

“That’s true. You will definitely embarrass yourself,” Seokjin hums, nodding sagely. He shrugs his shoulders. “All the more reason we should do it. Relax, I’ll be your wingman like old times! All we have to do is remind him of all the fantastic, mind-blowing coitus you had in your youth and he’ll be a goner for sure.”

“If by goner, you mean he’ll be gone from my life permanently this time, then you’re right,” you groan. You have a half a mind to dump the remainder of your disgusting punch all over his expensive Bottega Veneta coat, though you also don’t want to spend the next three months receiving packaged turds from Seokjin in your mailbox. “Please, just let me suffer in silence for the remainder of the night, okay? Is that really too much to ask?”

“Oh come on! Just go say hi to him already,” Seokjin huffs. He wiggles his eyebrows, striking you with the urge to shave them off in retaliation. “I could feel your ‘God, I miss his dick’ vibes from across the room!”

“I do not emit dick thirst vibes,” you respond hotly, swatting him in the tit. You pause, considering. “Wait, but do you think he misses my p—”

“Say no more,” Seokjin interrupts, a wicked smirk gracing his lips. His gaze is fixed somewhere behind you, but you have a sinking suspicion you know why he looks like he’s won the lottery. “Speaking of the devil, look of who’s coming over to say hello!”

Swiveling around, you see that your intuition is right: Yoongi and Hoseok are swiftly making their way through the crowd, one of them appearing to be more enthusiastic than the other. You swallow thickly, your palms growing damp as they get closer to where the two of you stand.

"Seokjin, we gotta go!" you hiss, but your panic goes largely ignored as your best friend leaves you to envelop his lover in a dramatic embrace.

The two men exchange teary and heartfelt touches, acting as if they had been separated by years of war instead of the meager minutes they had spent apart to greet their long-time friends.

"My honeybunch! Oh, how I've missed you so much!" Seokjin cries, nuzzling his nose into Hoseok's neck. You might have mistaken him for a vampire with how aggressively he sniffs Hoseok's skin. Had Seokjin been 5% more unhinged, you do not doubt that he might have started suckling on his boyfriend like a leech.

"Oh, hyung. It's barely been an hour, but why does it feel like it has been forever?" Hoseok sighs forlornly, jaw clenching as though he's in pain. He croaks out a sob, lifting Seokjin in the air and spinning him around. "My love, let us never part again!"

You take a few steps away from them, trying to make it apparent to all the bewildered onlookers that you have nothing to do with homosexual Tweedledee and Tweedledum.

"What kind of shitty production is this? I want my money back," you murmur, fake-gagging behind the two of them. The lovesick fools pay no mind to your disgust; in fact, they seem to relish in it. Their efforts double, their theatrical kissy-smoochy sound effects causing goosebumps to form on your arms. "Seriously, I've had enough of this and I've only been forced to witness it for two seconds."

"Tell me about it," says a voice to your left. Startled, you nearly let out a shocked gasp when you realize that Yoongi had found his way by your side, his own disgusted gaze fixed on the bumbling buffoons still lost in their world. He glances at you for a second, quirking his lips into a small smile. "Hey, Y/N."

In just six words, Min Yoongi manages to make time grind to a halt. You gape at him, your brain ceasing in function. It takes you a full minute to realize that the man standing beside you is not a figment of your imagination. You had been so caught up in the absurdity of the situation that for a moment you had forgotten that Yoongi is a real person.

It's Yoongi, your first love. The person you haven't seen or spoken to in years. The man who has haunted your dreams for over a decade. He's standing right beside you, and he's smiling at you. He's here, he's hot, and he's saying hello.

Like the incredibly eloquent and profound person that you are, you reply: "Yellow!"

You had meant to say "Yoongi, hello!" like a normal person, but your brain had amalgamated your words during its rebooting process. And so, you are left standing there silently, frozen by your embarrassment. You swear you can hear a pin drop as you beg for the earth to swallow you whole.

Unfortunately for you, the floor remains painfully tangible beneath your feet, forcing you to clear your throat and expound on your mystifying exclamation. Yoongi watches you with curious eyes, patiently waiting for you to speak.

"W-what I meant to say is, uh," you stammer, your cheeks heating up to an alarming degree. "Those yellow streamers are pretty tacky, don't you think?"

Nice one. In terms of comebacks, you would personally give yourself a C for effort. (Note: C stands for "Can I please shove a fist up my ass and crabwalk the fuck out of here?")

Yoongi contemplates the tacky decorations in question, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, I guess. They pretty much look like the stuff we'd make in elementary school during Arts and Crafts." He points to your mutual friends, grimacing in annoyance. "Them, on the other hand? No child should ever come into contact with those heathens."

"You're right," you snort, shaking your head.

There is a long and awkward pause. Yoongi clears his throat, swaying from side to side while staring at his shoes. You aren't any better, twiddling your thumbs as you will your cheeks to stop flushing. Your senses are practically screaming at you to run away and hide forever, but your limbs feel disjointed from the rest of you.

It's like we're at the zoo on a date and the monkeys won't stop fucking each other, your mind unhelpfully supplies, offering you an image that will permanently make its home on the backs of your eyelids.

Desperate to break the silence, eventually you say, "Hey, Yoongi—"

Right at the same time, Yoongi says, "Hey, Y/N—"

Another pause, but this one is slightly less tense. The two of you share a nervous laugh, though yours sounds a little bit more hysterical. You motion for him to speak first.

"I, uh... wanted to say that you look great. Yeah. Like, you haven't aged a day at all. N-not to say that I don't think you've matured or..." Yoongi stumbles over his words, his voice cracking.

Instead of feeling relieved that he's just as nervous as you, his anxiety only exacerbates your own. There's a reason you have never been good at public speaking, and this is a good example of why:

"No! I get what you mean, don't worry about it," you laugh, on the verge of a mental breakdown. What the fuck is this conversation, even? "You look exactly the same too. Umm... Of course, except for the, uh, hair?"

"Oh, you mean the gray hairs?"

"No, no! Of course not! I m-meant your hair looks really hot—I mean good! It looks GOOD," you repeat, frantically emphasizing the last bit. You had instinctively panicked, your voice rising in pitch.  If your cheeks weren't flaming hot already, then they're definitely redder than Seokjin's ass after a Friday night of fun.

The apples of Yoongi's cheek match your own flustered state, though you can imagine that you’re probably at least a hundred times worse. “Well, thank you. I was actually feeling self-conscious about my hair, so hearing that from you is really… nice,” he says, brushing his hair shyly. “I’m kinda done with bright colored hair for now, so seeing my hair in its natural state is still kind of weird.”

“I seriously doubt that Y/N was talking about your hair color, Yoongi,” Hoseok interjects, magically reappearing behind you when you don’t notice. You flinch in surprise, causing him to let out a hearty chuckle at your jumpiness. It seems that today is “Let’s scare the living shit out of Y/N” day with how many people have crept up on you in just one night.

Beside him, Seokjin looks like a bomb ready to explode, his fist jammed up his mouth to keep his guffaws from slipping out. “God, this is even better than the cringe compilations I watch on Youtube,” he wheezes, wiping a stray tear.

“Don’t be so mean to them, hyung! Don’t mind him,” Hoseok says to you, bowing apologetically. He smiles cherubically at Yoongi. “See, Yoongi? I told you that Y/N is even hotter up close!”

“God, fucking kill me,” you hear Yoongi groan.

“So, have you guys caught up yet, or have you just been fumbling around each other like a couple of horny teenagers?” Seokjin snickers, narrowly avoiding your heel stomping his foot.

“We’ve only just said hello. Leave us alone, jackass,” you huff.

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Well, Hoseok and I can go on our merry ways if you wish—”

“Yoongi! Did you tell Y/N about your work back in Seoul? I bet she’d love to hear about it,” Hoseok interrupts smoothly, saving you from further embarrassment (courtesy of his infuriating goblin of a boyfriend.)

You blink in surprise, turning to the man in question. “You live in Seoul now? Did you move there after finishing university?” you ask.

“Well,” Yoongi starts, clearing his throat. He’s permanently pink at this point, not that you mind in the slightest. He always did have the cutest blush (and once upon a time, you used to love teasing him about it.) “I sort of dropped out of university early. Decided it wasn’t really my thing, you know?”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Yoongi. You were a fantastic student. I’m sure Y/N remembers how smart you are,” Hoseok says, winking inconspicuously at you.

You force out a laugh in response. You know perfectly well what he was trying to do; Hoseok isn’t slick in the slightest, though you do admit that you are intrigued to find out what Yoongi had done over the years.

It isn’t like you haven’t been keeping tabs on him. In your defense, it’s hard to stay away from news about Yoongi when he’s such a big deal. So what if you’ve watched a couple of his interviews and streamed all of his songs? He’s always been talented with music, and all the radio shows seem to agree. You couldn’t get away from him if you tried (and it’s not like you were trying very hard, anyway.)

Yoongi shrugs, rubbing his neck bashfully. “E-either way, I decided to tough it out, you know? Follow my dreams and all that, even if it nearly killed me.”

“And now, he’s working in a famous idol company as one of their head producers,” Hoseok finishes for him, chest puffing up in pride. He slaps his best friend on the back, not noticing that he had inadvertently caused Yoongi's spine to cave in from his strength. “Yoongi is so cool, and humble too! He’s been working behind the scenes for a bunch of big names and never got greedy for attention even though he totally deserves it.”

“Damn, so no street cred? Bit schewpid, innit? Imagine all the chicks you could’ve landed, bruv!” Seokjin says, imitating a terrible British accent. You make a move to hit him in the groin, but for once, Hoseok beats you to the punch.

“Nope! Yoongi-chi is super single, aren’t you?” Hoseok says with a sweet grin, ignoring the pained groans of his lover on the floor.

“No need to rub it in, Seok-ah,” Yoongi grumbles defensively. He coughs into his fist, grinding his foot into the floor. He throws a glance your way. “Just been… too busy, I guess.”

From the floor, Seokjin holds up a hand, grasping at Hoseok’s pant leg to hoist himself up. “What a coincidence. Y/N is super single too. In fact, her pussy is so dry that there’d be no chance for any yeast infections to develop—WAIT, DON’T HIT ME AGAIN I PROMISE I’LL BEHAVE!” Seokjin is on his knees, holding his arms up in surrender as Hoseok’s boot is about to connect with his stomach.

“I know I said I was into BDSM, but not like this!” Seokjin says, faking a sob.

“Then behave, darling,” Hoseok replies, eyes lighting dangerously. When he returns his attention to you, you and Yoongi back away instinctively. “Sorry about him. We have an… arrangement,” he says, waving his hands vaguely.

“Understood,” you both say, not understanding but also not wanting to.

Seokjin manages to straighten up eventually, his skin slightly paler than it was before. “A-as I was saying,” he exhales, still gingerly cupping his crotch. “Y/N has been single for so long, but I don’t blame her. Not after that awful disaster of a boyfriend, right? God, Sungjae fucking sucked ass, and not even in the sexy way.”

“Um, yeah…” you say hesitantly, avoiding eye contact. You can feel Hoseok’s and Yoongi’s eyes trained on you, but you’re not confident enough to know that you can keep your face neutral.

With your gaze averted, you don’t notice the way Yoongi’s posture tenses. “Is that so,” he says carefully.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Hoseok says. You can hear the genuine sadness in his tone, and you chance a peek at him. He pats your shoulder gently, giving you a soft smile. “Honestly, I feel you. I’ve definitely been there, done that. That’s why I’m grateful for Seokjin-hyung, believe it or not. He’s been really good for me.”

“Hah, I told you I’m a good person!” Seokjin says. Again, he goes ignored.

“It’s fine. It’s all water under the bridge,” you say, shrugging. You can still feel Yoongi’s persistent gaze on the side of your head like a brand. You’re kind of afraid to see what sort of expression he has despite the curiosity burning inside of you.

You are still in the middle of debating if it’s worth explaining or not (and to a lesser extent, why you feel like you need to explain yourself to anyone), everyone’s attention is caught by the onslaught of waiters bringing in a fresh batch of food to the buffet. Your stomach growls in response, and you are reminded of the fact that you haven’t eaten since breakfast in preparation for tonight’s event.

“Hold that thought, Y/N,” Hoseok says, holding up a finger. “Hyung! I saw a platter of tuna belly and I know that shit is gonna disappear in two seconds. Let’s head out!” He tugs Seokjin in a hurry, the elder’s gangly legs flying about as he trips over himself to keep up. Seokjin yelps and hollers for him to slow down, but the hangry Hoseok train stops for no one. They run off, leaving Hoseok-and-Seokjin-shaped dust clouds in their wakes.

“Wow,” Yoongi says, dumbfounded. “Did we just get ditched by our two self-proclaimed best friends in the world?”

You nod, equally dumbfounded. “I guess we did.”

He shakes his head. “Fucking traitors.”

And just like that, the conversation dies.

Without your friends acting as buffers, the pair of you return to your painfully awkward states. You rack your brain for a conversation topic, anything to keep the tension at bay. You don’t feel nearly comfortable enough to ask him about his love life, even though you want nothing more than to shake the details right out of him. For perfectly sane reasons, of course.

Lucky for you, Yoongi thinks of a solution. “Um, I guess we should go grab our food as well? I’m assuming we’ll be sitting together since our friends are... you know. Unless you don’t want to, then that’s also perfectly fine with me. I can find somewhere else to sit.”

“I’d love to sit with you,” you say, cringing at your choice of words. Love to? What are you, desperate?! your brain screeches at you, and you mentally beat yourself in the coochie.

Deep down, you know that you’re overreacting, but you can’t help acting like a blushy teenager talking to your crush when you’re around Yoongi. It’s almost as if you’ve reverted to your high school days, back when you’d both started to notice your feelings for each other and the steady flow of butterflies erupting in your stomach had felt less like a burden and more like a revelation.

After tossing your disgusting drink into a nearby bin, you and Yoongi line up behind the rest of your classmates for the buffet, the scene reminiscent of having lunch at your old high school cafeteria. You’re still mildly distracted by Yoongi’s proximity, not looking at what food you were getting and randomly scooping and hoping you don’t dislike all of them.

From the corner of your eye, you notice that Yoongi’s plate is steadily piling up, probably with enough food to feed two people. You’ve never known Yoongi to be much of a heavy eater, but you suppose that free food is still free food at the end of the day.

“So,” Yoongi says after a beat. He pulls you from your trance, and you catch the small smile on his face that tells you that he figured you had been distracted. “How is Jungkook, by the way? He graduated from university a year ago or something, right?”

You pause, your hand stilling on the metal tongs. “How did you know he graduated last year?”

He shrugs. “Well, assuming that he didn’t take any gap years, I did the math and figured he should be at the age where he’s looking for a job.” He turns to you with a sly grin. “Plus, I’m still his friend on Facebook.”

“That’s surprising,” you comment. You backtrack a little, “And I mean it’s surprising in the sense that… All his posts are reshares from dank meme pages and I thought you wouldn’t be into that.”

Yoongi laughs. “I’m not. But… it’s nice to know how things are back home, I guess.”

Do you wonder about me, too? you think, but you internally shake your head. But why would he? He doesn’t owe you anything.

“And your dad? I heard he got hip surgery last fall,” Yoongi says.

“Wait, Jungkook has been posting about our dad’s surgery on his Facebook?”

“Oh! No, not exactly.” Yoongi clears his throat, suddenly nervous. He heaps a big portion of kimchi, some of it staining his sleeve. “I… called him a few days ago, to catch up.”

You’re staring at him, and you dimly register the people lined up behind you huffing impatiently. “You… called him? You have his cell number, too?”

“No, I just… happen to still have your home telephone number memorized and hoped that you guys hadn’t moved,” he says, a little guiltily.

You’re silent for a moment, thoughtlessly scooping more bean sprouts onto your plate than any sane person would be comfortable eating. The two of you inch along the buffet display as you attempt to process his sudden confession.

On one hand, you’re slightly betrayed that your own brother hadn’t thought to mention that your ex had called him, but on the other hand, what would you have done if he did? Ask if you could say hello? The Y/N from last month probably would have laughed if she had known that Min Yoongi still cared enough to call and check on her family, much less have her landline memorized even after all these years.

He still cared.

Unbeknownst to everyone in the room, your heart skips a beat at the thought. You cradle a hand to your chest, urging your nerves to quell. Keep it together, you beg your stupid, naive heart. You can survive one night without falling in love again, can’t you?

...can you?

“I…” you stammer. You swallow thickly, desperate for something to say, anything to stop your mind from going in the wrong direction. “They miss you, you know? You have no idea how many times my parents ask if you’re coming home for Christmas, or—I don’t know.”

“Yeah, my parents are the same. They always wanna know if I’m coming home for the holidays, and they,” he hesitates, swallowing thickly, “They always ask about you, too.”

Oh.

“Oh,” you mutter lamely. Your cheeks feel like they’ve been lit on fire the moment you got here, and you haven’t even visited the bar yet.

You finally make it to the end of the long buffet table where there is a large chocolate fountain just begging for you to ravage if only your stomach wasn’t besieged by butterflies. Yoongi glances at you, his own hands too full to get any desserts, but he still pauses as if he’s waiting for you. When you make it apparent you aren’t interested in the mouthwatering cakes and pastries (a big fat lie, but you also don’t want to vomit in front of him and your hundreds of schoolmates), he raises a brow as though he’s surprised.

“What? I’m not that much of a sweet tooth,” you scoff.

“This is coming from the girl who broke into her little brother’s piggy bank to buy some ice cream from a passing street vendor?” he teases.

“That’s the old me. Now, I make enough money to buy my own sweets,” you say smugly.

He rolls his eyes. “Whatever you say.” If you didn’t know any better, you might have thought he looked endeared.

The pair of you search for Hoseok and Seokjin, only to find that the couple had somehow found a table for all of you somewhere near the back. With one last longing glance at the wondrous chocolate fountain, you walk away with Yoongi in tow. You have to push through throngs of people, a few old familiar faces stopping to say hello before they notice the precarious situation on Yoongi’s plate and let you through. You wave at them, promising to greet them later before turning to Yoongi.

“Isn’t it kind of weird to see all these people again? Not gonna lie, it’s almost hard to recognize a few of them.” You note some of the crazy hair colors and drastic fashion choices that you never thought you’d see a decade ago. An even stranger sight, however, is the occasional schoolmates with little ones attached to their hips. You recognize one of the new parents, your mouth dropping in shock.

“Wait, is that Seulgi? And is that her—”

“Her son? Jesus Christ,” Yoongi mutters, equally as bewildered as you. “Damn, I did not expect her of all people to be one of the first to have a kid. I’d always thought it’d be Sooyoung.”

You nod in agreement. You observe the little boy tug roughly at her skirt, his tiny fists making grabbing motions at the cookies on her plate. “Yeah. I always thought I’d have a kid before Seulgi, at least. What a surprise.”

You speak before you think, and it takes longer than it should have for you to realize your mistake. By then, Yoongi’s expression had already morphed into astonishment, his eyes bugging out as he chokes on his spit.

Your cheeks are burning, your mouth opening and closing as pure panic seizes you. You cannot believe that you just said that! No fucking way! Did you eat lube this morning or something? Why are words just spilling out of your mouth at an unprecedented rate?! You’re begging your brain to come up with something, anything, to control the damage, but alas your thoughts remain resolutely frozen.

If aliens were to choose to study the human race right now, they’d be sorely disappointed to find the lack of intelligent lifeforms. No complex thoughts going on over here! Not one goddamn neuron firing in this bitch!

“O-oh, well, that’s…” he trails off. He clears his throat, his jaw clenched as he awkwardly tries to feign composure. “I didn’t know you were, um, interested? Well, n-not that I think you were averse to the idea of having kids, since I remember you mentioning it when we were, um,” he pauses, struggling to find a word other than dating, or together, or in love, or not painstakingly careful around each other, like every conversation topic was a fucking minefield.

“Younger?” you supply. A safe, neutral word. Yay for you! You deserve a snack from your animal care keeper right about now.

“Right,” he nods. He looks down at his shoes, revealing his flushed neck. He’s frustratingly adorable like this, but it does nothing except distract you. “Were you, um, planning on having a kid with your ex-boyfriend? Before you broke up?”

Ex-boyfriend? Why is he bringing him up all of a sudden? You stare at him in confusion for half a second before realization strikes you. Thankfully (or unthankfully), it seems that Yoongi misunderstands the implication behind your words and has taken your little slip-up the wrong way. For once, you are so thankful that Yoongi almost failed Math during the 10th grade and never learned to put two and two together.

“Definitely not,” you bark out a laugh, but it sounds incredibly forced, even to your own ears. You stare at the plate of food in your hands, a wave of unpleasant memories washing over you. “I doubt he’d ever want kids, anyway. Seokjin used to make fun of him and call him the world’s biggest toddler.”

Yoongi winces, his brow furrowing. “How long were you together?”

“Like, two years?” You shrug. “It felt longer, to be honest. Even if we dated for so long, I could never imagine myself having a family with him,” you say.

It was almost the truth, but not quite. While your ex-boyfriend had undoubtedly been a pain in your ass, he wasn’t completely bad, especially in the beginning. You had enough self-respect that you would have ended the relationship earlier if he didn’t have any redeeming qualities. The main problem was that he had a tough act to follow, and you don’t think any man on earth would be able to live up to your lofty expectations at this point, not when you’d constantly be comparing everyone to—

Yoongi speaks up again. “Seokjin seems to really dislike him. Was he really that bad?”

“Seokjin has never really liked any of my past flings,” you admit, rolling your eyes. (You fail to mention that Yoongi has always been the only exception.) “Despite his own disgustingly high body count, I can’t say he was wrong. Sungjae was a self-centered prick who never gave me the time of day. Hell, I was almost thankful when I caught him cheating. It was the final push I needed.”

Even though it’s been so long, the pain of seeing your ex-boyfriend locking lips with a stranger he had randomly picked up from the street still throbs inside of you. It wasn’t like you were particularly sad or surprised to find out, but you’d always been a bit sensitive to people who kept secrets from you. Plus, it kinda sucked to know that they had fucked on your favorite Egyptian cotton sheets.

“Fucking bastard. If I ever saw him in person, I’d definitely kick his nuts ‘til he’s left with a concave crotch,” he seethes, eyes narrowing.

You laugh. You have to confess that the mental image is satisfying. “You don’t even know what he looks like though!”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m sure Seokjin would tell me if I asked,” he huffs. He mutters something else after, but his volume drops to a whisper and you have to step closer to properly hear him.

“What? Sorry, I missed that,” you say, but you could have sworn he said something like “I wouldn’t have done that if it were me” but you couldn’t be completely sure.

“N-nothing,” he stutters, waving off your confusion. He tacks on a smile, but you can tell that he must have been embarrassed by whatever he’d said. If it was anything like what you thought he’d said, then you could understand. It wasn’t like he was wrong, anyway.

He makes a move to rub the back of his neck, but he greatly underestimates the weight of his platter and nearly drops everything. Something deep inside of you kicks in, and your body instinctively moves to hold his plate with your free hand, saving him from a very messy situation. However, that also means that your hands are now touching each other, your fingertips grazing his knuckles.

Instead of letting him go like a normal person, your ape brain makes the first move (as per usual).

“Your hands are still cold,” you say dumbly. You had wanted to say more, like “your hands are still as cold as they were from when we were younger,” but bringing up your past together, even for something so harmless, still feels taboo. You keep your hands where they are, your eyes locked on his. It feels like you’re in the middle of a dramatic TV show while I Will Go To You by Ailee plays in the background. You can almost imagine the numerous ads for random Korean cosmetic products framing the two of you in slow motion.

Yoongi chuckles, reluctantly pulling away from you. You already miss the sensation of his skin on yours. “I guess some things never change, huh?” he says, wavering slightly. He stares at you for another moment before shaking his head, as though he’s pushing away some unwelcome thoughts. He turns away, leaving you behind to make his way to your table.

Despite the unbidden emotions bubbling up your throat and threatening to spill over, you have no choice but to follow.

At the table, Seokjin and Hoseok speak mutely with each other, though the exaggerated expressions on both their faces tell you that they had been in the middle of an argument. When Yoongi takes his place beside Hoseok, the couple pauses in their bickering to greet you.

Hoseok looks at Yoongi’s overflowing plate. “Dude. I know I teased you about being a skinny twig a while ago, but I wasn’t implying that you gorge yourself.”

Yoongi jolts in surprise before staring back at his plate. Weirdly enough, he looks just as shocked as Hoseok to find the amount of food he had gotten, as though he hadn’t even noticed.

Perhaps he was just as distracted as you had been? you think, staring at your own meager pickings. Oops, you definitely didn’t get enough food to fill your ravenous appetite.

“That’s fine. I can share with you guys,” Yoongi says.

Seokjin peers at your plate, smirking knowingly. “Oh, yes. I’m sure Y/N would love to get some of your food. It seems like the two of you either over or underestimated how much you’d eat.”

“Aww, cute!” Hoseok coos, pinching Yoongi’s cheek. “You still have the habit of getting food for her. That’s so sweet that you still remember that about her!”

You had been in the middle of taking a swig of your water, but Hoseok’s comment nearly causes it to spew out from your nose. You cough harshly, beating your chest as your nose burns, among other things.

“Hoseok!” Yoongi scolds. He hits his friend on the shoulder, but Hoseok’s giggles refuse to stop.

“Oh shit, you’re totally right! Remember all those times when either one of us was forced to third-wheel with them?” Seokjin guffaws. “Y/N always orders something gross whenever we eat out together, and Yoongi ends up having to share half of his food with her when she starts moping.”

“I did not mope!” you retort vehemently.

“You kind of did,” Yoongi mutters under his breath, but you catch him this time.

You cross your arms, scowling. “Did not!”

Yoongi covers his mouth to fake a cough, but you can tell he’s smiling from how his eyes start to crinkle.

“You guys are so cute,” Hoseok sighs, squeezing Yoongi into a hug. Yoongi paws at him weakly, but you know that he enjoys skinship too much to push his friend away.  Still, he pouts cutely, his cheeks puffing up like a pastry.

“Anyway, why were you guys arguing a while ago?” Yoongi asks, changing the subject. “Seokjin-hyung is kinda red in the face.”

“Oh, we weren’t really arguing. Hyung had gotten some wine from the bar but he forgot to get me some,” Hoseok says. He glares sharply at Seokjin. “Bastard.”

“You just said we weren’t fighting!” Seokjin whines. He stands up, raising his arms in surrender. “But fine! I’ll go get your damn wine,” he sulks, groaning when he stretches his back and a few worrisome pops resound from his joints.

“Damn, hyung. I know I told you that I hope you grow up well when we were kids, but I didn’t think you’d take it that literally,” Yoongi jokes, earning a sharp laugh from you. Yoongi glances at you then, visibly proud when he catches the wide grin on your face.

Seokjin gasps, offended. “I am not old! I’m literally a year older than you guys! And here I was, about to get you both drinks as well! It sucks to be the nice one in a friend group,” he sniffs.

“Yes, we are eternally grateful for your service,” Hoseok says sarcastically. “Oh, and remember to get some drinks for Y/N and Yoongi-chi too!” Hoseok adds, slamming his palm on Seokjin’s sore back.

Seokjin yelps, before biting his lip. “Owwie, that hurt,” he moans, winking salaciously.

As the closest person to him, you make it your right to jam your heeled foot onto his gelatinous and push away with a shout of disgust. “Leave, wench!” you snarl, but you’re unfortunately drowned out by his cackling. Even so, he does make his leave, affording your table some level of peace.

“So,” Hoseok starts, a twinkle of mischief in his eye. He cradles his chin with his hands, smiling innocuously at the two of you. “How’s it goin’? Are you both having fun?” he says, laced with meaning.

Ah, you had forgotten; peace was never an option.

Though he is undoubtedly less annoying than Seokjin, you still don’t trust the way he’s staring at you, like he’s waiting for one of you to jump into the other’s lap and recreate his favorite porn scene.

(A terrible thought to have, especially when you’d probably be as begrudging as you should be if you were swayed sufficiently.)

“It’s going fine, thank you very much,” Yoongi responds, giving his best friend a stern look.

You nod wordlessly, unable to trust yourself to keep from stammering and making your frayed nerves apparent (if they aren’t already.) You grab your glass and busy yourself with your drink to delay answering.

You don’t notice that you had taken Yoongi’s cup by accident until you’ve already gulped a third of his water, dropping it with a loud clunk. “Oh shit, sorry! I didn’t mean to drink from yours,” you say sheepishly.

Yoongi smiles at your concern. “No worries. It’s just a cup.”

“Sharing cups too? Damn, what happened while Seokjin and I were away?” Hoseok laughs. Yoongi flicks him lightly on the wrist in retaliation.

“It’s just a cup,” he repeats before turning to you. “Sorry, I think he’s a bit drunk.”

“Haven’t had a single drop of alcohol but whatever,” Hoseok says, shoveling a large piece of tuna belly into his mouth.

The sight of him eating reminds you of your own hunger, your food slightly colder now after talking to Yoongi and your friends for so long. You take a spoonful of chicken, the taste not terrible but not as good as you would like. Your face must give your disappointment away because you hear Yoongi chuckling beside you.

“Bad food again? Guess you really are the same,” Yoongi says, low enough that Hoseok wouldn’t hear. He pushes his plate towards you, carefully nudging some of his bulgogi onto yours. “This tastes kind of sweet, so I’m not really into it. But you prefer it sweeter right?”

All you can do is nod in agreement, watching as he piles your plate with his food. His sleeves, which had already been stained previously by some stray bits of kimchi, become even more saturated with sauces and oils. Now that you see it up close, his sleeves seem a bit too long for him, his palms half covered like sweater paws.  

Without thinking too hard, you place your hands over Yoongi’s wrists, his entire body freezing as he waits for what you will do. Gently, as though you’re approaching a frightened kitten, you fold his sleeves until they’re no longer dangling into his food. The gesture is more intimate than you had intended, his proximity allowing you to smell the familiar fragrance of his cologne.

Paco Rabanne, your mind reminds you. Of course.

You pull away, trying your best to appear as unfazed as possible. You clench your hands and dig your nails into your skin to keep them from trembling. “If I’m the same, you’re no better. You always used to forget to pull back your sleeves before eating.”

After a beat, Yoongi returns from his stupor, licking his lips. “My hands were cold,” he explains.

“I know.” You lick your lips too, suddenly parched despite all the water you have drunk.

A forgotten treasure trove of memories resurrects inside of you, things that you had thought had been buried too deep for you to find again. You are filled with this odd feeling, an awareness. An old wound has resurfaced, one that you thought had healed long ago.

That wound throbs, still.

It’s so strange, being with him like this. A piece of your past that has come to your present, both the same and different as you remember. He knows parts of you that no one else will, as do you with him. But those parts were only ever supposed to stay buried: memories, after all, aren’t supposed to be tangible.

And yet, here he stands: real, alive, close.

It leaves you feeling emptier than before.

The atmosphere grows somber after that, neither of you offering much to the conversation. Hoseok is more than happy to pick up the slack, filling the stark silence along with the occasional hums from Yoongi. When Seokjin returns, he makes no note of the change in mood and focuses more on eating and talking with his partner. It allows the two of you to remain deep in thought.

You are pushing your remaining bits of food around your plate when the soft instrumental music playing on the overhead speaker stops abruptly, and the sound of a microphone being tapped prompts everyone to turn to the front of the ballroom. The host of the event announces that the next part of the reunion will begin shortly and encourages all the performers to head to the sound booth to prepare. A couple of your schoolmates rise from their seats, most of whom were the students you remembered being part of choir or band.

You half-expect Yoongi to stand up as well, but he stays rooted to the spot. Apparently, Hoseok is wondering the same thing.

“Yoongi? Didn’t you say that the organizers asked you to perform some of your songs?” Hoseok questions.

“They did.”

“But?”

Yoongi brings his fingers to his teeth, biting on them anxiously. Your hand makes a move to pull them away, but you think better of it. No need to supply your friends with more teasing ammunition. “But I changed my mind last minute. I felt kind of embarrassed to be performing my own songs. I’m more of a producer, not a performer.”

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Yoongi. You’re poggers, as the kids like to say,” Seokjin pipes up.

“I wouldn’t put it like that, but he’s right. A lot of people like your music and think you’re a great performer,” you assure him. “And I like your music, too,” you add shyly.

Yoongi’s hand drops from his mouth, eyes glittering with disbelief. He looks like he wants to disagree with you, but eventually decides to just smile in gratitude. “I didn’t know you listened to my music,” he says quietly.

Before you can reply, Seokjin chooses to interrupt with his migraine-inducing cackle and ruin the moment (as he is prone to do.) “Oh bitch! If you only knew how much this girl loves your music. She even buys your physical CDs AND collects your photocards.”

“I do not!” You scream, flinging a piece of bread at his head. You refuse to peek at Yoongi.

“Don’t worry, Y/N! I collect his photocards too. Wanna trade sometime? I’m missing the one when he still had mint hair,” Hoseok giggles.

“Will the two of you stop? God, it’s like you both had been planning to embarrass us as much as possible,” Yoongi exclaims, incensed.

When neither of them responds, you and Yoongi whip your heads towards them only to find two self-satisfied, smirking shitheads.

“Why watch reality shows when you can make your own?” Seokjin says in lieu of an answer, pointing finger guns. He blows you a kiss with a wink.

You clutch your chest, pretending to wince in pain. “Augh! Poison damage!”

Seokjin scoffs. “Swagever, man. You’re just mad because you’re angry,” he retorts, sticking out his tongue.

While you were occupied bickering with Seokjin, you had not seen that one of your old schoolmates had invited herself to your table. She sandwiches herself in the space between you and Yoongi, bumping you roughly enough to topple you out of your chair.

“What the fuck?” you yelp in surprise, holding onto the table to balance yourself. After straightening back into your seat, you find that your view of the world has become obscured by asscheeks the size of beachballs.

“Hi Yoongi,” she purrs seductively. Or at least, what she thinks is seductive. To you, her voice sounds like nails grating on a chalkboard.

“Hello?” Yoongi says, but it comes out sounding more like a question. It’s clear that he doesn’t remember her name, as he searches your eyes for help. You shrug unhelpfully; you deleted almost all the names of everyone that you had gone to school with right after graduation. Besides, her horrendous plastic surgery makes it even twice as hard to discern her identity.

“Hi Hyejin,” Hoseok speaks up, answering your unspoken question. Oh, right. The name does ring a bell, somewhat. You don’t recall her looking like a cartoon character before, but you suppose beauty standards are meant to be subjective. Maybe she wanted to look like a One Piece character.

Hyejin purses her lips into a tight smile but doesn’t return his greeting. She turns back to Yoongi, bending forward until her boobs are practically smooshed against his face. You wonder idly if stabbing her chest with your chopsticks would cause them to burst like a balloon, or perhaps drain like a puss-filled pimple. Both, you surmise, would be very entertaining to watch.

“It’s been a while since we’ve last seen each other, hm? I heard you’ve been very busy ever since we graduated from high school,” she says, batting her eyelashes.

“Uh, yeah? Some of us have jobs,” he says, passively dissing her. You let out a strangled laugh, causing Hyejin to aim a glare back at you. You bring your (his) cup of water to your lips, feigning innocence.

Hyejin rolls her eyes. “Right. But I meant that you’ve become a real star back in Seoul! I didn’t know you were such a musical prodigy!”

“I’m really not. I just work hard,” he shrugs. He’s visibly uncomfortable, especially since Hyejin was pretty much breathing the same air as him. Every time he leans away from her, she takes it as an invitation to come closer. He is nearly lying horizontally at this point, his back parallel with the floor.

“Humble as well as handsome? My, my. I didn’t think you’d be such a charmer,” she laughs, saccharine sweet. She twirls her dyed brown hair with her perfectly manicured acrylic nails. You rub at the goosebumps forming on your arms, cringing at the phantom sensation of her nails digging into your skin.

“Just spit it out. What the hell do you want so you can leave,” Seokjin interjects. Everything about his demeanor says calm and collected, but the way he presses his lips into a thin line says otherwise. You can sense the air dropping in temperature, despite the embers burning behind his eyes.

“I came over here to ask if Yoongi could give me his autograph, that’s all. I am his biggest fan, after all,” she sulks. She winks at him for extra measure. “And maybe his number too? I’d love to discuss your music with you sometime!”

“Oh, um. That’s—” he cuts off, hesitant to answer. He tugs at his ears nervously, exchanging subtly alarmed glances with you.

You remember that signal very distinctly; it’s a distress call that he would do whenever he needed a way out. He used to do it a lot when you were at social gatherings, especially when people would trap him in boring or awkward conversations. He never did like socializing with people outside his circle, but he was often dragged to parties by his more extroverted friends.

He might be hot as hell with his stylish clothes and jaw-dropping undercut, but he’s still awkward as hell around strangers. When the universe created him, they made sure to keep everything in balance. If they hadn’t been fair, you certainly would’ve died much earlier.

“Yoongi, don’t you have spare CDs of your music?” you quip, dragging Hyejin’s attention onto you. Her eyes narrow imperceptibly, suspicious.

“I do?” He stares at you blankly.

You resist hitting your forehead in exasperation. “Yes, Yoongi. Remember? You left a couple of them in my car.”

Yoongi’s eyes light up in understanding. “Oh, right! I left my CDs. In your car. That we drove here. Together. We came here. Together. Yes, correct.”

From your periphery, you can sense Hoseok barely holding onto his sanity after witnessing that pitiful display. Who can blame him when Yoongi’s infamously terrible acting skills are having their first appearance in over ten years? How he managed to pass Drama class is still a mystery to this day.

“Yup,” you say, popping your p.  You give Hyejin a winsome smile, your hands folded neatly on your lap. You can almost see the steam blowing out of her ears. It fills you with delicious satisfaction. “Why don’t Yoongi and I go get them so he can sign one?”

If her eyes had been made of lasers, you’d be a cauterized mess jumble of organs by now. Can’t say you would regret it either way.

“How kind of you.” She sneers. “Also, I wasn’t aware that you two were still a thing.”

“I wasn’t aware that we were required to inform you of anything,” you retort placidly. You plaster on your fakest grin. “Now, if you can please move your fat ass—I mean, if you can please move out of the way so I can go to my car...” you trail off, gesturing for her to leave.

After a few more indignant sputters on her end, she eventually makes her exit. She throws a couple of poisonous glares, but they go largely ignored by you and your friends. With her gone, you feel as though you can finally breathe fresh air again.

“Great stuff, Y/N! Congrats on winning your first bitch-off,” Seokjin chirps, back to his usual self. You roll your eyes at his antics but smile nonetheless.

“Thanks. I learned from the best.”

Yoongi clears his throat. “So, are we still gonna go?” He looks back and forth from her to you. “Just so we can pretend you actually have my albums in your car?”

“Trust me, Yoongi-chi. She does have your albums in her car.” Seokjin titters. “I wasn’t kidding about the photocard collection.”

“Ignore him. And yes, I do have your albums. I listen to them in my car from time to time,” you say, attempting nonchalance. “I’d hate to give them away to that bitch, but if it keeps her away...”

Away from you is left unsaid, but it’s heavily implied.

(No, you aren’t jealous. You’re above jealousy. It’s not like that bitch would ever have a chance with him anyway, unlike you—!

Woah there, cowgirl. Let’s stay on the right path. Don’t want your heart getting chewed up and spat back out all over again, do you?)

“I’ll just mail you a new one. Signed, if you want. You can probably sell it on eBay or whatever.” He tries to say it like a joke, but his brow is too furrowed to be convincing. (You want to kiss him there and make it go away.)

You don’t trust yourself to speak, so all you do is nod mutely. You stand up and Yoongi follows suit.

“We’ll be right back. If she comes back before then, tell her to scram,” you tell Hoseok and Seokjin. They salute you in response (well, Hoseok does. Seokjin does a very rude gesture with his fingers that is supposed to mimic something explicit. Feel free to use your imagination.)

The walk to the parking lot is a quiet one. The two of you stay side by side, his strides naturally matching your own. Unlike before, you don’t feel the need to fill the silence for once, content to just be in each other’s presence.

The hotel that your reunion is being held at is unusually unpopulated. The lobby consists of a handful of employees milling about, a few of whom look ready to fall asleep on their feet. You nod politely at the bellboy who opens the main doors for you, declining his offer to call the valet service to fetch your car.

“Just hand me my keys. I’ll look for my car in the parking lot.” It wouldn’t be hard to find, anyway. Your beat-up Toyota Corolla looks as though it’s been through three wars and then some.

It isn’t long until you find it parked close to the entrance. You unlock your car from the passenger seat, shimmying the glove compartment open to reveal your collection of CDs.

“Wow, you weren’t lying when you said you listened to my music,” Yoongi says, voice loud amidst the tranquil night. It startles you, and you accidentally knock over some of the albums onto your car floor. On top of the pile lies Yoongi’s most recent album, the one you recall he had released a couple of months ago.

Strange, how just hours ago you were listening to his music on the way to the reunion, only for the boy on the cover of the album to be just inches away from you.

“Yeah, well. You’re a pretty good artist,” you say.

“Only pretty good?” he repeats, amused.

“Don’t push it,” you snort. You grab the album on top, waving it in front of him. “This should be good enough, right?”

He plucks it from your grasp, an unreadable expression clouding his eyes. He chuckles, but there’s an edge of sadness in his tone. “Good enough,” he agrees solemnly.

His sudden quietness is different from the peaceful one before. It’s sorrowful, maybe regretful. He looks like a man stuck in grief.

“Did you know that I didn’t finish this album before releasing it?”

The question seems a little out of the blue, but you answer regardless. “No, I didn’t. They don’t sound unfinished to me.”

“The songs themselves aren’t unfinished,” he explains. He turns the album over, his finger running down the back where the tracklist is printed. “One of my songs never made it in.”

“Couldn’t you have delayed the album launch so you could complete it?”

He shakes his head. “It was actually the first song I finished out of all of them.”

“Then..?”

“It didn’t matter, at the time. I wrote it for someone specifically, but I didn’t want to put it on the album if she—they didn’t listen to it. It wouldn’t matter if the whole world heard that song because only they would understand it.”

“But now? What changed?” Fear and hope run down your spine in tandem when the question tumbles out of you. You hold your breath, and the world shifts from its axis.

But he doesn’t elaborate further.

x x x x x

You return to the hotel after acquiring both an album and some more tension. The album feels heavy in your hands, weighed down by secrets you are still too afraid to uncover. Not that Yoongi would ever willingly divulge them to you—because revealing them would make them real, and making them real would mean you would have to accept them, and accepting them would cause you to—

“They’re gone,” Yoongi announces when you reenter the ballroom. You can’t spot your table from the entranceway, but the certainty in Yoongi’s tone makes you believe him.

“No fucking way. Did those two little shits ditch us to exchange body fluids or something?”

Yoongi grimaces. “Please don’t say it like that. It’s bad enough that I was sitting close enough to Hoseok a while ago that I got accidentally footsie’d by Seokjin hyung.”

You wince, placing a pitying hand on his shoulder. “God didn’t make us his strongest soldiers.”

Yoongi tries dialing Hoseok a few times, but none of the calls connect. “Just my rotten luck,” he groans. He types angrily into his phone, worry creasing his forehead. “He was supposed to be my ride back to his place.”

“Seokjin isn’t answering his phone either,” you say apologetically. “How much do you wanna bet this is part of their evil scheme to leave us together?”

“I don’t doubt it in the slightest,” he deadpans. He sighs tiredly, rubbing his temples. “I suppose I can take a taxi there, but I also don’t know if he’ll be home to open the door for me.”

“Then why don’t you just stay with me?”

You don’t know what you’re doing.

In your head, the offer makes sense. He’s just a friend, you remind yourself. Nothing is stopping you from rekindling a friendship with him. You have purely platonic intentions. Friends help each other out.

Never mind the fact that your heart hasn’t stopped fluttering the entire night. Never mind the fact that you’ve caught yourself staring at him just as many times as you’ve caught him staring at you. Never mind the fact that you don’t want the night to end, not now not ever.

(Never mind the fact that you’ve never quite stopped loving him.)

So when he accepts, you convince yourself that offering had been the right thing to do.

(Maybe. Hopefully. You just wish your heart doesn’t end up as collateral damage.)

The drive home is short, thanks to the late hour. You had asked him if he had wanted to stay until the end of the reunion, but he had declined. “Nothing else left for me there,” he says.

You feel as though he’s hinting at something. Your grip on the steering wheel tightens. “At least I get to keep my album.”

Yoongi laughs, short and sweet.

As much as you try to fight it, sitting in the car with him brings up a lot of memories.

The two of you in the backseat as his older brother drives you to his house for dinner, backpacks filled with crumpled notes and loose pens, a promise of an intense study session for your upcoming exams ready to be broken. You remember how the sky would turn orange in the afternoon, the warm light streaming through the car window and washing Yoongi’s skin with a soft glow.

His cheeks had looked inviting, his lips even more. And you would lean over, kissing him like it was easy. Because it was easy, and you never had to think twice about it.

Your trip down memory lane doesn’t end in the car. As you walk up the steps to your childhood home, you hesitate by the door, your keys frozen over the lock. You can hear Yoongi’s soft breathing behind you, but his presence doesn’t feel as stifling as you thought it would be.

You’re far from being at ease, but you aren’t frightened either. Mostly, you’re just filled with anticipation. Of what? You aren’t sure.

“Excuse the mess. Jungkook is in the middle of moving out so there’s just stuff everywhere,” you say just as you open the door. You toe off your shoes by the entrance, kicking them off haphazardly into the pile of sneakers and boots.

You hear Yoongi huff out a laugh behind you. “Aish, that kid. Still hasn’t let go of his Timbs, huh?”

“He has also been really into chunky sneakers these days. I think he’s finalizing his transformation into Thumper,” you joke. “He’s staying at his new apartment for the weekend with my parents, so you won’t be seeing them. They’re helping him settle in.”

“Really? He didn’t mention moving when we spoke. Where is he moving to?”

“Busan. He and his best friend from college are going to start a restaurant in his hometown. Which is funny, since neither of them are the best chefs.”

Yoongi whistles. “Still, that’s impressive. I can’t remove the image from my head of when he was a kid. He was so scared of anything. He wouldn’t let go of your mom’s leg even if his life depended on it.”

He steps deeper into the house, his gaze jumping from end to end as he surveys your childhood home. You watch him, noting how right he looks standing there in the middle of your living room, like a chipped painting that has been restored.

It’s scary, how easily you’ve accepted him back into this place.

He stays rooted to the spot, the moonlight filtering through the kitchen windows and illuminating his frame. The air pulses with something magical, something dream-like, and it muddles your vision. It’s the only explanation you have for why your chest tightens when he turns to face you, with a gaze filled with sadness, mourning, yearning.

“Jungkook’s height chart is still here,” he murmurs. The small nicks on the kitchen door frame are hard to see, and other people have mistaken them for signs of wear and tear. But he knows what they are because he was there when your mother had etched the first scratch.

He looks at your ancient dining table, his hand brushing over the surface. “This too,” he says, rubbing at a large burn mark on the wood.

“Mom made sure to use placemats after that. I didn’t think a sizzling plate would burn through the table like that,” you say, giggling as you reminisce. “You know, we still use your mom’s galbi jjim recipe. We haven’t found a better one.”

“I’m sure she would love to hear that,” Yoongi smiles, but it fades just as quickly. “It’s so… strange. Being here again and seeing that nothing really changed.”

But things did change. Upstairs, in your bedroom. That night, ten years ago.

You still remember what you had said to him, when you had said it to him, how you had said it to him.

It was a sunny afternoon, the time of day when you’d be on your way home from school. The two of you had stood in your room, neither of you wanting to sit because sitting meant staying, and staying only made this harder.

There hadn’t been many tears in that moment; those were shed only after the realization had sunk in, when you’d fully understood what had happened. At the time, the decision had been as easy as breathing.

Except you had both been drowning. The clock was ticking down to the end of high school, and the inevitable wasn’t slowing down.

Yoongi wanted to chase his dreams in Seoul. You wanted to stay closer to home, with your friends and family.

You weren’t going to be the one to hold him down. You weren’t going to be that person, not when he’s destined for greater things than his hometown could offer—not even a girl who loved him would be worth staying for.

He had suggested it, first. He had been prepared for you to cry, or maybe scream, but you did none of that. Instead, you pulled him close, hugging him tighter than you ever had before. You wanted to make it last, imprint the sensation onto your brain so that his warmth might stay with you, even after he’s little more than a distant memory. You trembled, terribly so, even though the beginnings of summer crept on your skin like a brand.

It’s time to let him go, Time whispered. You refused to listen, just for another moment.

Let me have this last moment, you beg. But Time refused to listen.

“Do you know?” Yoongi had spoken into your neck, had hoped his words would stain there. “Do you know how much I love you?”

Love, not loved. “I did,” you say. You think better of it. “I do.”

When you separated, for good this time, it had left an ache deeper than you could have ever imagined.

But you were young. Young love was supposed to hurt, but it wasn’t supposed to last. “You’ll find others,” your mother had said, brushing a soothing hand through your hair as you sobbed.

Then why? Then why has it lasted this long?

It has been a question you’ve asked yourself, and you’re starting to think that the answer has always been right in front of you.

The answer is standing in front of you: real, alive, close.

“Why didn’t you ever date again?” you ask. You ask even though you know he can lie, if he wants. He can tell you anything and you would believe him.

But he wouldn’t; you know he wouldn’t.

“I was afraid of closing a door that I never meant to close in the first place,” he says. His voice crackles like static, but that might be the blood rushing to your head. He moves toward you but keeps a hand’s width away. Still too far.

He continues. “After that day, when I left,” he swallows, “after I left, I think… I think I left a piece of me with you. A-and I don’t think I ever stopped…” he cuts off, exhaling shakily.

“Stopped what?” you breathe.

“You know.” He waves his hands around helplessly. They fall heavily back down to his sides, defeated. “You know?” he repeats.

You do. Because you are the same. The old wound had never healed; it burns and it bleeds like new.

Your skull feels like it’s stuffed with cotton when you close the distance between the two of you. He circles his arms around your waist, tentative, but he relaxes when you wind your arms around his neck. Your vision is warped, so you choose to close them. You wait, with bated breath, as his warmth inched closer and closer.

The sensation of his lips on yours jolts you back to your senses. His kiss reminds you of your youth, of a love that had made you excited to start your day. Even now, your body remembers, and it rejoices.

The tenderness does not last long before it turns fervent, tongue and teeth crashing like waves against the shore. If his kisses could speak, they would tell you stories of how much he missed you, of how much he mourned the time you had both lost. They would tell you of the days when he’d almost pressed your number onto his phone, of the nights when he’d stare at the polaroids he had kept of you.

They would ask if you still love him like he still loves you.

He tastes of desperation, and you are likely to be the same. It is a desperation you haven’t tasted in years—but it doesn’t feel scary like it used to. Time no longer feels like it’s racing against you, like you had something to prove before the hour was over. This reckless abandon feels like home against your skin—it is an ache being soothed after having ripped your scabs over and over again.

It’s Yoongi.

And when he pulls you to your room, he doesn’t even need his eyes to find his way as his feet still memorize the floorboards. He struggles with the doorknob, forgetting that it always jammed, but it’s okay because you can always teach him again. You can teach him everything again.

The bed creaks under your weights and even the mattress sounds like it is sighing in relief. That sigh echoes from your lips when his hand slips under your clothes, his palm stopping over your heart.

“I won’t break it, this time,” he says. He promises. “If you let me.”

You wonder if he can feel your heart soaring, pounding against your ribs. “I think the line has long been crossed to ask for my permission.” You place your hand over where his is laid. You squeeze tight.

This time, you don’t let him go.

[romanceimp]

Relflections

hello, hello,

welcome to the dark side... this is my second collab with bnharem. Please, please, read through the rest of the collab list HERE. I am so grateful to be working with so many other talented writers and artists on this. Special shout out to @doinmybesthere for beta reading and for @kuso-deku whom I dedicate this piece fror giving me the Mirio brain rot...

TW: NSFW, 18++++ Villains, dub-con moments, sex, violence, YANDERE MIRIO, two crazy people, inter dimensional travel, killing, mentions of blood, dirty talk, some cum play

Around 7000 words

Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month, this comes just days after we broadcast rumours of villains running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire metropolitan area at a standstill, road closures and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning. Road maintenance endeavour to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villain who has still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before. Where are the heroes now? Who will save us from the terror overwhelming our city? Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the city please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary. One thing we know for sure: we can no longer rely on Heroes to protect us. The streets of our once-great city are no longer safe, we are no longer safe.

You flip off the television and rise from your seat on the couch. Your roommate and the object of your affection had already left for the night. Mirio would never obey that curfew, not as long as there were people he could be saving. That’s Mirio for you… always being the hero, even if he’d lost his quirk ages ago. But ever since the onslaught of new villains, and heroes turning to the darkside you’re patching him up more than normal… He returns with wounds more serious now, the scars abundant on his once smooth skin. He is becoming a reflection of the ruin and carnage that floods the streets. This is why you had come up with, planned out, and prepared for a way to fix everything. You could never stop him from being a hero, it was who he was… but you can get his quirk back… 

You check your pocket one last time… it’s there, wrapped in that small blue handkerchief. You examine the strange item one last time, careful not to prick yourself with it by mistake. It’s shaped like a sewing pin, only slightly larger. One prick, that’s all it takes, one prick and it will absorb the power from the first thing that it touches. Then one more prick, and the next thing it touches will absorb the gathered power. One chance, that’s all you have. 

You grip the chain around your neck and pull the locket out from inside your shirt. You read the engraving on the back, as you always do, and you smile. 

Come back to me ~ Mirio

It had been a gift, something to help you when you were learning how to use your quirk. The going part had always been easy, it was the returning from your travels that had been difficult. You open the locket, one side is a watch, the other a mirror. You check the time and write it down to the second on your arm in biro. 

7:43. 26 PM

You have 8 hours exactly and you fear you’ll need much more time than that. But your quirk’s limits are not forgiving in the slightest. A second longer and you’ll die. 

You take a deep breath, eyes now focussing on the mirror side of the locket. You’d returned this way ever since Mirio gave you the locket, but never once travelled forward through the mirror before. You meet your own eyes and start to feel the familiar pull, your face turning that strange shade of blue. 

Please let this work. Please, take me to Mirio. 

The gravity in the mirror builds and you can feel the surging power of your quirk. You feel yourself meet your reflection, becoming one with it for a split second before you’re absorbed to the other side of the mirror. 

You land in a darkened alley. The smell of stale beer and piss invading your senses, making your head swim even more than normal. The thickness of the summer air does nothing to help. It doesn't matter how many times you use your quirk, it always leaves you dizzy, disoriented. But that was to be expected when travelling to another dimension. Your quirk was dubbed Mirror Image, it allowed you to travel to different dimensions by looking at your own reflection. 

You check your pockets again… it’s still there. The “quirk extractor”, that’s not really what it was called but you’d forgotten the actual name of it. It had taken trying quite a few different dimensions to find something like it. It was very possible that you might never find that place again. You had to treat this like it was the only one in existence, afterall, it was the only one in this existence. But where exactly was this existence?

You blink, vision clearing and you examine the alley. It looks like a regular alley, slimy brick walls, dumpster, broken liquor bottles. A few people walk past on the main street, their laughter echoing off the alley’s walls. A lightbulb buzzes over a shut metal door. But there was no Mirio. The plan was to find a mirror Mirio, a Mirio that had never lost his quirk... extract this Mirio’s quirk and bring it back to your Mirio, the Mirio you loved. 

You had done enough dimensional travel to know that every version of the self was weirdly connected. That’s why you had travelled forward through the mirror he had given you this time. You had hoped it would bring you to another Mirio, since the mirror had never failed to take you back to him… even if you were in a strange corner of the universe. But alas, it was like travelling through any other reflection. As usual, you stand in an unknown location, trying your best to figure out where you’ve ended up. 

You kick a stray tin can in frustration as you walk towards the more populated streets. You laugh at your own stupidity. You knew the real reason you were doing this. Maybe, this act of love, retrieving his stolen quirk would change his mind. Maybe he would take back what he had said all those years ago… the words that would never stop ringing in your ears.

You’re standing on the sidewalk, trying to decide which way to go when the sound of rusty hinges snaps you from your thoughts. You turn to look back down the dim lit alley. A man with shaggy blue hair exits the building, his red eyes gleam and your heart drops. It’s hard to see but you’d know his face anywhere, he’s practically taken over your city, Shigaraki Tomura. Take a few steps to where you’re concealed by the wall of the building. He speaks to someone who is still inside the building. You angle your head to try and hear over the busy street. “They’ve just been getting in the way is all, and I need you to get them out of the way… see?” 

Why did your quirk take you to Shigaraki when you had specifically thought of Mirio? The streetlight’s shadows help to hide your shape. You peek around to see who he is talking to. Your breath hitches in your throat as you see the tall blonde exit from the building’s wall. Mirio. You watch as he leans his shoulder against the brick from which he just emerged. He looks taller, stronger, and still has his quirk… would your Mirio have looked like this if his power had never been robbed?  His grey tshirt is pulled tight around his body and his usually done hair is ungelled, almost messy, bangs hanging just above his eyes. “That’s easy, you have anything actually worth my time?” he jokes. Shigaraki looks unamused, eyes closing in annoyance.

 “Just do it, and don’t make it so messy this time… you tend to leave a trail wherever you go,” Shigaraki scolds. Mirio grins, but it’s not the same warm smile you’d grown to love, this smile is darker, more sinister. “I’ll take care of it boss, sheesh, you worry too much,” he rolls his shoulder on the wall until his back is flush against the brick. He pushes off of it and heads towards the end of the alley. You panic as he heads your way. “It’s that hotel on the corner of Roosevelt and Third,” Shigaraki screeches after Mirio who gives him a wave of his hand. “If you weren’t so useful I’d kill you,” Shigaraki adds. Mirio’s laugh bounces off of the alley walls. “You could try,” he calls as he rounds the corner, just passing you as you crouch near some bags of garbage praying he doesn’t notice you. But he passes you, languidly walking towards the destination he was just given by Shigaraki Tomura. That’s when it hits you… by going through Mirio’s mirror, you have found yourself a mirror Mirio. An exact opposite to the man you know.  

The thoughts are swirling around in your head but there’s no time to sort through them… you have to follow him. You slowly rise from your hiding place and melt into the crowds of people. It’s lucky that Mirio is so tall, it makes him easy to follow from a safe distance away. The crowded main streets turn to less populated side streets and you have to maneuver accordingly to stay well hidden. Mirio approaches a building with a neon sign that spells out HOTEL in red letters. A glowing arrow points to the double doors at the front of the building. He hurries up the steps before slipping inside.  

You follow close behind to make sure not to lose him inside but leave a long enough gap so that it isn’t too obvious. Upon entering, you’re met with the old red carpet that should have been replaced twenty years ago. Dust clings to the fabric of the sofa and cobwebs dangle from the antique crystal chandelier. The floor is well polished however, reflecting the lights that hang from the ceiling. It’s strange that there’s no clerk at the desk but a few people piddle about the lobby. A man makes eye contact with you, furrowing his brow in confusion. A woman in a short, low cut dress slips her hand below another man's belt and whispers something in his ear. No one blinks when Mirio makes a beeline down the hallway to the left. This was not an ordinary hotel. You walk calmly after Mirio and peer down the long dark corridor. There’s not sight of him but you watch the door at the end of the hall close. There. The lights in this section of the hall are off and everything seems quiet, whereas the hall to the right was lit and loud. Sounds of pleasure and partying spilling from underneath each door. You curse Mirio for walking down the more sinister path and follow begrudgingly. 

The hall is dark save one room where hysterical cries seep out. You don’t want to know what was going on and instead keep your eyes trained on the small bit of light that pours from the window inside that end door. Upon closer inspection there is a coating of condensation on the glass. This must be the pool. 

You retrieve the quirk extractor from your pocket and remove it from it’s wrapping, careful not to prick yourself.  You slowly open the door he had gone through just moments ago. You slid inside the door slowly and carefully, making more sound than you would have liked, but it can’t be helped. Any sound easily bounces off the water of the glistening blue pool. The smell of chlorine is overwhelming and you start to realise that there aren’t very many good hiding places in a place like this.... And Mirio is nowhere to be found. You grip the quirk extractor as you hear a door towards the back of the room slam shut. Another exit… your footsteps echo far more than you would like for them to as you head towards the door. 

“Gotchya.”

The voice startles you. Your grip on the quirk extractor falters, coupled with the way you jump… you watch as it slowly descends into the water, effectively pricking the pool. The ball at the end of the extractor emits a green light as it sinks to the bottom. “You idiot!” you shout before you can think better of it. Mirio steps from the wall and quirks an eyebrow up at you. “Me idiot? You’re the one following me with the stealth of one of the 3 stooges.”

He looks even more dangerous up close. A long scar descends from his chin down his neck. And while his eyes are the same colour, there’s a glint in them which your Mirio lacks. He’s faster as this version of himself, and you don’t have time to think before your back is against the cold tile wall. “So gorgeous, gonna tell me what that thing was and why you’re following me… or will I just rip the answers out of you one by one.” You’re too confused watching as he looms over you. His expression is half pleased, half irritated. You inhale to speak but the words don’t come. The smile on his face right now… it’s the expression of someone who has killed and enjoyed it. It’s never something you could have pictured to play across Mirio’s face and it jars you. A chill runs up your spine and goosebumps prickle on your arms. He’s terrifying but also so beautiful. 

One of his hands moves up to grip your throat as he growls, “I’m waiting, bitch.” You flail as his grip tightens, scratching your nails into his arm in hopes that he will let go.  “Please Mirio, I-I’m sorry.” His grip loosens suddenly but his hand stays around your neck. “What did you call me?” You cough and inhale, then meet his eyes. There is a familiar curiosity within his gaze but it’s joined by something else, that same strange glint. Is it amusement or something much more sinister? You can’t put your finger on it. “Mirio, your name is Mirio,” you murmur. A sly smile crosses his face as he moves closer to you, his hips pinning yours to the tile. “Yes, but how do you know that?” 

You stutter, trying to find the right words, a sigh haphazardly escaping your lips as the heat from his body becomes intoxicating. “You been sent to spy by the heroes?” You shake your head and try to wiggle free, but only succeed in grinding against him. A low laugh bubbles from his throat as he pins your wrists above your head with one hand and stills your hips with his other. “That’s real cute, but not gonna get you out of trouble with me…” His eyes flick down your body then back up. “Quite the opposite actually,” he teases. Your face feels warm and your eyes dart down and away. “Aww you’re so shy now, makes me wanna eat you up.” Mirio tilts your chin upwards so you’re looking at him. His eyes have softened slightly. “Just tell me,okay? I don’t wanna have to hurt ya.” There's a strange pleading in his tone, a sincerity you didn't expect. “We know each other, Mirio… well sort of,” you match the tone of his voice. A smirk breaks on his face, “are you my stalker?” You roll your eyes, he still had a sense of humour in this universe. It’s nice to know some things never change. 

“No, no we’re friends, but I know a different… you.” He blinks before his eyes narrow. He starts to speak but you continue to explain… about your quirk, the Mirio you know, and how you’d planned to steal his quirk. You show him your locket, the engraving. He still seems suspicious as he turns it over in his hands, examining it. “You’re a crafty little liar, I’ll give you that, had this made and all, but now I’ll have to pull the truth out of you, and like I said, I really didn’t want to have to do that to you.” “Wait… I can prove it, just let me use the mirror… then I’ll leave you alone.” Mirio looks you up and down again before opening the locket and holding it out for you. 

You focus on your reflection and watch as your face turns that strange blue black colour. Guilt seeps from your mind and travels down your spine as you’re pulled towards your reflection. The quirk extractor was sitting at the bottom of the pool, now carrying within it the power of chlorine… You hadn’t helped Mirio, only discovered a dark side to his existence… which wasn’t all that bad it seemed. He hadn’t harmed you at all, just threatened you slightly and even then it had seemed he was teasing and flirting more than anything. Your Mirio had never flirted with you… on purpose. The pull of the mirror became stronger and there was a strange sadness, a feeling that you would miss this version of Mirio. This version of Mirio was void of the sunshine that the original Mirio held within him at all times, but this Mirio seemed to see you. This Mirio had given you more in a few seconds than the original Mirio had in years. You shut your eyes as you began to fall into the mirror’s reflection. The original Mirio’s words that he’d said to you that day still hanging heavy in your heart. You laugh at your own pathetic nature for the second time today. You fantasies of Mirio were just that… just fantasies. In all universes. 

A hand pushes you backwards away from the mirror. The impact is so strong you stumble, but the same hand catches you and pulls you into him. You gasp for air, your head reeling from being ripped from the portal. Mirio holds you close, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just- I didn’t want you to go.” His voice is riddled with guilt, shaking slightly. You fist your hands into his shirt, gripping the fabric as you struggle to stand. “Whoa whoa, hey,” he consoles as he sinks to his knees, bringing you with him. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his lap. “I really didn’t mean to- I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I’m okay, I’ve just never been pulled from a portal before,” you stutter. His thumb brushes over your face temple. “You remember your name?” You state your name and he repeats it, “Y/n… I love it.” A smile plays on your features, cheeks heating once again upon hearing the compliment. “Hey, what’s 2 + 2?” 

“4,”

“Damn, well I guess you’re a math wiz.”

Your eyes flutter open and he smiles, “there she is.” You squeeze your eyes shut then open them once more in an effort to stop the room from spinning. “Are you gonna kill me now?” you drawl. Mirio pouts, “well that depends, are you still gonna steal my quirk for other me?” You laugh and roll your head away from him. “I can’t, it’s in the pool now, it’s absorbed the fucking power of chlorine.” Mirio laughs, “well whose fault is that?” You look up at him, there’s an intensity to his gaze when you meet his eyes. Your heart hammers against your chest… “yours.” You start to sit up, his arms still cling to you. “You’re the dummy who let go just ‘cuz I scared you.” You hum considering his words, “you don’t scare me Mirio.” 

His arms relax around you and you move to lay down on the tile floor. Your back relaxes against the floor and you move your arms over your head to rest your head in your hands. “You should be afraid, I’m a whole different me, sweetheart,” he remarks. He moves to lay next to you, mimicking your position. “You’re still Mirio,” you sigh, your eyes taking in the blank space of the ceiling. “You don’t know the things I’ve done, my body count, nothing.” “You’re still Mirio,” you insist. Laying like this you can hear the echo of your words bouncing off of the water. “He’s lucky, other me… to have a girl like you.” His last few words are whispered, failing to bounce around the room. They hang over you, adding weight to the atmosphere. “Ah well, the Mirio in my universe doesn’t see it that way,” you deflect. Mirio rolls to face you, his head laying in the crook of his arm. “I know we don’t know each other… not really, but it’s strange, I feel like I’ve known you forever.” You turn your head to look at him. His eyes are practically on fire now, that small glint having grown into a flame. “In a way we have, I know a version of you… what I’ve come to find is every universe has overlaps of some sort… you and the Mirio I know will share some things… memories even.” Mirio’s face lights up, “yes exactly, I feel like I’ve seen you in a dream or something…” You shrug, “it’s possible.” Mirio smiles, it’s a familiar smile, a sincere happiness that the Mirio of your universe wears often. Much different than the smiles this Mirio had even just a few moments ago. 

“Why are you a villain?” you ask him. Mirio clutches his chest in mock pain. “That hurts, sweetheart… Just because I don’t accept the truths the rule makers of our world have given me… that’s what makes me a “villain”?” You narrow your eyes, “I meant more that you’re a hitman working for Shigaraki Tomura.” He laughs, “heard that did you? Guess you were following me for longer than I’d realised.” He pauses and moves closer to you. “I have no problem getting rid of a few people who won’t contribute anything of value… most lives are a total waste, I’m merely an exterminator… getting rid of the bad to make more space for the good…” He says it so casually that it makes chills run up your spine. “So does that make you the good or the bad?” He laughs again though this time he is less amused with your question. “I’m just a sacrificial pawn, sweetheart… can’t be good to make space for it.” 

You reach out and touch his bare arm. His skin is hot against his fingertips. “You didn’t hurt me… when you thought I was lying, you can’t be bad…” He smiles, “That’s just because I see how good you are and I want to protect that… protect you.” His hand begins to mirror yours, stroking up and down your arm with light fingertips. “If you can see the good, then that makes you good.” 

His fingers grip into your arm and he pulls you closer to him. He reaches for the back of your neck when he notices the smudge of ink on his hand. He examines your arm and finds the numbers. “What’s this?” he asks. You sigh, “it’s the time I have to go…” He pulls your face closer to his, your noses almost touching. “You can’t stay?” You shake your head, “Only for 8 hours, else I’ll be torn apart by the universal pulls… I’m not really supposed to be here ya know,” you joke. Mirio’s face falls, “Can you come back?” You shrug, “I can but the time I can stay is deducted every single time I return to a universe until I can no longer visit anymore…” Mirio’s thumb rubs soft circles into the flesh of your cheek. “What should we do then?” he asks. You smile sadly before sitting up. You give him an impish smirk. “Well, there’s a pool, I say we swim.” 

You start by removing your top, slowly peeling it away and discarding it to the floor. Mirio follows, taking off his grey tshirt. His figure is chiseled, each muscle toned and defined. You start unbuttoning your trousers when you feel the heat of his chest flush against your back. “Can I?” he asks as his hands rest on your hips. You nod and he slowly pulls your pants down your legs. He helps you step out of them before throwing them towards the growing pile of clothes. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs into your skin, trailing kisses up your thighs. You grab his face with two hands and pull him to standing. “My turn,” you smirk, looping your fingers in his belt loops and pulling him towards you. You undo his pants, kissing down his chest. Savoring the taste of his skin. He groans at your touch and you feel the heat pooling low in your belly. His pants removed his stands only in grey underwear, while you remain in your bra and panties. 

You teasingly move away from him and stand on the first rung of the ladder in the deep end of the pool. You look back to where he stands, calling him to you with your gaze. He groans as he moves towards you. “I’m really holding back you know,” he growls, pressing his chest against your back, his a. “Why hold back? You can have whatever you want… Just take it, make it yours.” Mirio trails his lips up your neck, ready to suckle a mark into your skin, when you add, “if you can,” and step off the ladder into the blue water. 

As soon as the water touches your skin you’re swimming towards the other side. You hear Mirio dive in after you and know that this has all been futile. He grabs your hand and slings you gently towards the wall. He places both of his hands on either side of your body, pinning you. You wipe the water from your eyes before wrapping them around his neck. “You caught me so fast… I thought you’d chase me around more,” you provoke. He shakes the water from his hair and moves his body closer to yours. “Chasing you is a waste of fucking time right? I want to have you,” he growls. You open your mouth to say something but are silenced by his lips on yours. 

The kiss is needy, sloppy. He kisses you like he’s starving, finally being fed. His tongue draws circles around yours before sucking it into his mouth. You moan into the kiss and he responds by pulling you closer, grinding on your clothed cunt with his hardening cock. He moves to run his tongue along your bottom lip before nipping at it. You sight into the kiss, turning your head to deepen it. You pull away a wry smile on your face. Mirio’s pupils are blown, that unfamiliar glint in his eye now having a name for it, desire. 

“Miri, I want you,” his hips stutter against yours upon hearing this. “Fuck princess, I won’t be able to hold back anymore if you keep looking at me like that.” You pepper kisses to his face, tasting the chlorine on his skin. “Don’t hold back,” you whisper, “I trust you, you’re good to me, I’m yours if that’s what you really want.” His breath shakes upon hearing this and he presses his forehead to yours. “Mine? All fucking mine? Like this me?” You nod and kiss him again. This time you catch his bottom lip and suck it, pulling on it just to hear him moan. 

He helps lift you to where you’re sitting on the edge of the pool. He peels your panties down your legs before spreading them. He kisses one of your thighs before massaging the other. “So fucking perfect,” he praises, “all fucking mine.” He trails his hand and mouth up the inside of your thigh. He spreads your folds, drinking in the sight of your bare cunt. “Fuck, you’re perfect,” he sighs. “I’m gonna make you forget about any other versions of me, you’re going to be all mine.” He presses a kiss to your clit, “gonna be all fucking mine, princess.” 

He drags his tongue, slow, up your slit and circles it around your clit before sucking on it gently. You stifle a whine and you can feel him smiling in pride. “That is princess, lemme hear those sweet sounds.” He does the same move again and this time you don’t hold it in. Your sounds of pleasure echo around the pool, bouncing around and finally landing back on your own ears. But you don’t hear them, as you’re too lost in the pleasure. Mirio grips the wall of the pool with one hand while the other comes up to rest on your lower abdomen. His thumb starts rubbing soft circles on your clit while his tongue circles your hole. “Tastes so fucking good,” he growls and then shoves his tongue inside. The muscle is hot, wet, and he slowly begins to add more pressure to your clit while tongue fucking you. You’re completely overcome with a mind melting pleasure as you fall back onto your elbows, your hips grinding against his face. You aren’t sure how, but you can already feel that familiar knot forming in the pit of your stomach. You’re close and Mirio seems to know as he picks up the pace. “Cum all over my face- wanna taste you-” His permission was all you needed and soon you’re clamping down around his tongue, calling broken syllables of his name. He kisses your cunt as you come down from your high. “Such a good girl for me, cumming when I say.”

He lifts himself out of the pool and removes his underwear. He’s thick, incredibly so and long. The head is red, leaking pre cum. You groan at the sight, cunt aching to be filled. You reach for him, pulling him on top of you. He kisses you, deep, passionate, with lots of tongue and teeth. You can feel his cock, thick and hard pressing into your thigh. He ruts his hips into yours, his cock sliding along your thigh. “Please,” you beg. He growls and flips you to where you’re on top and he sits pressing you to him, cock wedged between the two of you. You grind against him in anticipation. “Please Miri,” you plead. He lifts you and in one swift move, you’re impaled on his cock. 

You cry out, and it echoes back to you. The stretch is incredible, a pleasurable, dull pain that makes your eyes roll into the back of your head. He carefully thrusts up into you, and you crumble, burying your face in the crook of his neck. “I don’t wanna hurt my baby,” he coos, body stilling. You shake your head, “no it feels good, y-you're just so big.” He laughs darkly, “you love the pain, don't you?” He gives another thrust to test your reaction and this time he can feel it. Your pussy dripping down his cock.He looks down, eyes blowing at the sight, “fuck baby look, I’m not even all the way inside…” You look down and moan, his cock is a little over half inside. It’s too big to fit all the way. “You cute little cunt keeps throbbing on my cock, and when she does, she drools.” He wipes up some of your combined juices with his thumb and rubs into your clit again, just as he had before. Then he starts to move. 

He starts slowly bouncing you in his lap at a gentle pace, but soon his eyes change and his thrusts become harder and faster. “I’m sorry princess, but you feel too good, I need more of you, need all of you.” Mirio fucks into you harder, his cock so big he hits every spot inside of you that makes you weak with each thrust. Your cries become louder and more desperate. His cock kissing your cervix with each thrust causes you to disintegrate in his lap. The lewd sounds of his hips smacking into your ass fills the pool. Mirio’s eyes flick down and he growls. “Look at that baby, ‘m all the way inside now, doing so good, so fucking perfect taking every inch I have to give. God you’re fucking made for me.” You sink your teeth into his neck in a desperate effort to stave off your orgasm, to savor the moment you’d waited so long for. The moment where you and Mirio Togata become one. But it feels too good, the pleasure so intense that you’re pushed over the edge again, clenching tightly around Mirio’s fat cock. “Fuck baby, do that again, milk my cock for me while I fuck you into my shape.” 

His thrusts become sloppier but he manages to continue to hit all your spots, driving his cock into you at a bruising pace. You’re shaking in his lap, body convulsing from your last orgasm as another starts to build. “Fucking hell baby, you’re so fucking perfect, and you’re mine, all fucking mine.” His hips start to stutter but his pace quickens. “I’m all yours Miri, yes, I’m yours,” you moan. He pulls your head towards him and kisses you with that same hunger as before, teeth gripping at your lower lip and him sucking on your tongue. You moan into his mouth as your orgasm washes over you, white hot. It’s too much and sends him over the edge. “That’s it, milk my cock, milk my fucking cock,” he pants, pouring his cum deep inside you. “I’m gonna get you pregnant, gonna make you mine forever,” he growls as his hot ropes of cum still paint your walls. 

Your body is shaking, the post orgasm cold mixed with your wet body has goosebumps prickling your body. He pulls his cock out and groans at the way his cum drips from your hole. He smiles, “you’re even more beautiful now that I’ve claimed you.” You smile against his skin. “I feel more beautiful,” you reply. But Mirio’s words ring in your ears. You sit up quickly but wince. “I hurt you, I’m so-” “No, that isn’t it…” You lay your head in the crook of his neck. “The longer I’m here in this dimension the weaker I become… but I’m okay, don't worry.” You nuzzle into him, trying to steal some of his warmth. He caresses your back, “I wish you could stay…” “I-I have to go back, we can’t be together forever, even though it’s all I want,” when you finally say the words you start to cry. Mirio wraps his arms around you. “You’re cold,” he says. He helps you up holding your hands, “can you stand?” You nod and he walks you back towards the shallow end of the water. He eases himself in first and then takes your hand to help you do the same. 

He cradles you to him, “but you can go back to other me, and when you make love to him, you can just think of me… we’re the same.” You look into his eyes, face pleading, “that’s just it Mirio, you aren’t the same at all… he will never love me.” Mirio’s face darkens, anger, pure anger resides in his features. “Why not?” You take a deep breath. These were the words that haunted you from the moment the other Mirio had spoken them. “He told me, I will always love you, but I will never, ever, love you like that.” You whisper this secret to him.

Mirio can see it, the weight you’ve carried in your heart. That Mirio might save people all day long, be an actual hero, but he’s the one that’s more fucked… evil. Breaking the most perfect girl he has ever known into small pieces. No, Mirio could never let such evil exist, even if that evil was technically himself. “I’m gonna kill him,” he vows as he cradles you protectively. 

Your eyes widen, and you grip onto his face. He looks at you, smiling. “Miri, do you really want to be with me forever?” He nods and kisses you, “more than anything, you’re mine now, I’ve claimed you, you belong to me.” “I belong to you,” you echo and press your forehead against his. “I think I know a way,” you inform, the grin breaking over your face. He awaits an explanation with wide eyes. “You can come back to my world with me.” Mirio narrows his eyes in confusion, “won’t that kill me? Like it kills you?” You shake your head, “no… that just has to do with the limitations of my quirk… I’ve brought someone back with me before, the only thing is… that there’s already a Mirio in my universe, which could technically throw time and space out of balance. But there’s a small window where it wouldn’t… and if you really want to kill him… then there would only be one again.” You smile and hold his face, peppering it with kisses. “You can kill him and take his place!” 

You’re met with Mirio’s grin and another sloppy kiss. “I knew I was right about you, you’re perfect.” You both climb out of the pool and dress in your clothes again. You put the locket around your neck and open it focussing on your reflection. For the first time, holding the mirror, you don’t feel the weight of the other Mirio’s words. This Mirio, now your Mirio, has filled the void that the Mirio of your universe put inside your heart. You wonder now if you’d really loved him all this time or if it was a disguised hatred and rage. You’d always found blood somewhat disturbing but now you were excited to see it. Excited to watch the man who hurt you bleed out and be destroyed by the man you loved. Excited to watch him die. 

 You grip Mirio’s hand in yours, finger interlaced. “Just don’t let go, no matter what, okay?” Mirio kisses your hand. “I won’t, swear,” he confirms. 

Your face begins to change and you feel the gravity sucking you back into your reflection, but this time, you won’t be returning to him alone and in pieces. You’ll be returning to him whole.  This time… it would be him lying in pieces on the floor. 

[sunmoonandeddie]

‘cause you are, you are

pairing: lumberjack!bucky barnes x reader

word count: 8,436

summary: Bucky’s found someone out on his front lawn during a snowstorm.  Well, Alpine found her.  If only he knew what he was getting into.

warnings: Bad words!  Violence!  Mention of kidnapping!  Mention of military violence/injury!  Mention of suicidal thoughts!

a/n:  So the song I listened to that kinda really inspired this is ‘Get You the Moon’ by Kina.  Also, this was commissioned by @buckysbunny​ and I really hope you love it, babe!

“Come on, Al,” Bucky said as he led his dog up the front steps of his cabin, carrying all the grocery bags inside.  He had a cigarette between his teeth, keeping it steady as he unlocked the door and let the gorgeous samoyed inside.  “Atta girl.”

The cabin was just as he left it three hours ago when he left to go grocery shopping.  As it should.

And Alpine was already standing at her bowl, wagging her tail.  She knew what time it was.

“You hungry, baby girl?” He asked with a grin as he grabbed the beef he’d been thawing in the sink and opened it up.  “Today’s a beef day.  We both know how much you love cows, yeah?”  He put a cup of beef in her bowl, powdering in her supplements.  “The best girl deserves the best food, yeah?” He asked as he cracked two eggs on top of it, before setting it on the ground.  Bucky couldn’t help but grin at the way that Alpine sat there in front of the bowl, waiting for the go ahead as her tail wagged aggressively.  “Eat.  Good girl.”

Kicking off his boots, he started up a fire in the fireplace.  The clouds were rolling in, the sun already setting.  He’d lived on the mountain long enough to know when the first real snow of the season was setting in.  They’d already had flurries, sure, but…  The first real snow was the first one that had everyone locked inside, unable to go anywhere for weeks.  He could smell it on the air.

Thankfully he was all stocked up on wood, so they’d be warm.  He’d already moved up Alpine’s dinner time so it would still be light outside when she needed to go outside to use the bathroom.  And they had more than enough food in the fridge and in the deep freeze to last them the entire winter, if they needed.  They’d be okay.

Honestly, his biggest worry was losing Alpine in the snow.  She was a big floof of white fur.  She always came when he called, but still.  It was the principle of it.

After she went to the bathroom, the two of them curled up on the couch while he ate and they watched whatever DVD he popped in.  He’d probably binge watch the box set of nature documentaries he’d gotten.

They were… relaxing.  After spending a few tours in Afghanistan, he needed relaxing.

It had been ten years, but… some things don’t fade with time.  Some things stick like gummy bears on a car seat in July.

It was past midnight when Alpine raised her head from his lap, a low whine in the back of her throat.  By then, he’d cracked open a beer and been fully ready to fall asleep there.

“Al?  Come on, baby girl, there’s nothing out there,” he said reassuringly.  It was snowing heavily, and he’d estimate there was already about seven inches deep with no sign of stopping.

But Alpine gets off the couch and runs for the door, barking sharply.

“What the hell has gotten into you?” He asked as he watched her.  “Alpine, come.”

For the first time in the four years since he’d gotten her, she didn’t listen.

Instead, she let out another bark as she clawed at the door.

“Al,” he groaned as he forced himself up.  He left the beer on the coffee table before heading to the door.  “There’s nothing out there.  Just snow.  You’re just gonna get cold and get the floors all wet.”

But, alas, he’s a slave to the desires of his puppy.

It’s kinda pathetic, really.  Not that he cared.

He opened up the door to let her out, frigid air blasting him.  The snow crept up onto the porch, and there was so much coming down it looked almost like a curtain.  “See, Al?  Nothing.”

But she ran out into the snow, nudging at what just looked like another pile of fluffy white snow.  She let out a whine, the only parts clearly visible of her being her dark nose and eyes.

And that’s when a head appeared, and his heart stopped.  What the fuck was a woman doing out in the middle of a snow storm?

Despite the fact that he wasn’t wearing shoes and he’d just changed into a fresh pair of sweats, he ran out to where Alpine was still trying to nudge her awake.  The snow was freezing his toes as he reached down and scooped up the girl, woman, whatever, and carried her inside.

“Come on,” he called out to the samoyed, who was following quickly after him, her tail tucked between her legs.  “You’re such a smart puppy,” he cooed as he laid the girl on the couch.  “You knew she was out there and made sure I got to her.  Good puppy.”

From the color of her lips, there was no doubt in his mind that hypothermia was starting to set in.  And from what she was wearing?  Come on.  She didn’t even have shoes on.  Just two pairs of socks.

Fuck.  He’d have to strip her down.  He needed to get her warm, and the clothes she wore weren’t doing anything to help her since they were thin and soaking wet. “You better not kill me when you wake up,” he grumbled as he pulled her clothes off of her, keeping his eyes averted.  She didn’t even have underwear or a bra on.

It wasn’t that he was some kind of creep.  He just felt awkward.  He didn’t know this woman and he wasn’t some kind of life saver.

Bucky was alarmed by the amount of bruises that covered her body, though it looked as though there was a purposeful lack of them on her face.  There were also what looked like fresh scrapes along her hips.

He wrapped her in every blanket he could find after grabbing fresh clothes from the laundry room and redressing her, cocooning her before shoving the couch closer to the fire so that it may warm her easier.  But she still seemed so cold.  He moved to the kitchen, taking a few hot water bottles from the first aid cabinet and warming them up before gently dabbing one at her face, the only part of her still exposed.

Bucky knew that the only thing he could do now was wait for her to wake up.  Pressing two fingers to her neck, he let out a sigh of relief when he felt her pulse.  “You’re not out of the woods yet,” he said as he grabbed his beer and took a swig.  It was going to be a long night.

Alpine was more than happy with the addition of a new person in their home, if not still a little worried.  She climbed up onto the couch and curled up against her, sniffing at her face and giving her a lick before lying her head down beside her.

“She’ll be okay, Al,” Bucky said quietly as he reached out to give her scritches right above her tail.  He wasn’t sure if he believed it, but…  Maybe Alpine would understand and calm down a little.

My first thought when I woke up was that I was warm.  Really warm.

I hadn’t been warm in such a long time.

My eyelids were so heavy, and I had no desire to open them just yet.

What would I find when I woke up?  If I was back in His possession, in his house, I…  I would need to resort to Plan B.

Technically, Plan B had been Plan A a few times, when things had gotten… especially hard.  But He had caught me before I could succeed.

The last thing I could remember was stumbling through the snow.  I’d managed to finally get out after planning it for months.  I waited until He’d gone out for his nightly trip to the bars before pulling on my two pairs of socks and slipping out through the broken basement window.

The broken glass that I had thought would cause me to freeze to death had become my salvation.

I had been going down the mountain, following the road.  But it had started to snow.  I’m not sure how long I had been walking when I could see the path anymore, or when I saw the light.

The first light I had seen in the stifling white.  It had been coming from a window, cutting through the storm like a beacon of hope.

The wave of relief I had felt at the cabin slowly taking shape in front of my very eyes had been euphoric.  I had started to think that if I was going to die, at least I wasn’t going to die in captivity.

But I hadn’t even made it to the porch steps.

Which brought me to where I am now.  Wrapped up in what I was pretty sure was several blankets.  But I could smell… dog?  He didn’t have a dog.  No pets allowed.

He also didn’t have a crackling fireplace, from what I remember of the few times I’d been allowed upstairs.

Yeah.  Definitely no fireplace.

I made sure to stay completely still as I felt two calloused fingertips press against the pulse point in my neck.

“Well, Al, her heart rate has increased…”

So it was definitely a man.

I’d gotten really good at pretending to be asleep over the years.  Like, really, really good.  It wasn’t often that He’d been able to tell that I was awake if I didn’t want him to know.

There was a whimper, and then a rough tongue licked across my face.  The dog.  Which was (hopefully) this ‘Al.’  I didn’t want to deal with more than one man.

The man sighed and walked away.  “You gonna keep watch over her, baby girl?  I gotta go get a shower.”

Did he think the dog was going to answer him?

As soon as I heard his footsteps going up a set of stairs, I took in a deep breath before slowly letting it out.  I needed to get out of there.  Immediately.

I just had to slip out without him hearing me or the dog making a scene.

I slowly opened my eyes, even though it still felt like I had washers glued to my lashes.

And there was the fireplace.  It was so nice and warm…  I hadn’t felt this toasty in years.  The basement was always so frigid, and with the lack of blankets provided to me, I was always at least a little cold.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to stay for a little while…

No.  I shook my head as I forced myself to sit up.  I couldn’t stay.  I had to get out and get down the mountain to civilization.

I gasped as I felt the rough tough on my cheek again, turning to see a huge white dog that looked more like a cloud than an animal.  “Shh…”  I had to work to get my arms out of the blankets to pet it, but it was then that I realized I was not in my original clothing underneath all the swaddling.  My heart sank to my stomach as I felt a wave of panic.

Had he touched me?  Was he no better than Him?

I got most of the blankets off and frowned as I looked down at sweatpants and the long sleeved shirt I was wearing.  They were far too big for me, but they’d have to do.

I kept my steps feather light as I looked around the space I had found myself in.  It was a living room, and rather cozy.  Rustic looking.  I could see the kitchen to my left, and a silent debate with myself started over whether or not I’d have time to grab food for myself before running.  From the way my stomach growled, I knew that I’d have to.

I hadn’t eaten since yesterday, since today was not my scheduled day to eat.

The cloud dog followed me to the fridge, its tail wagging as I grabbed what I could reasonably carry.  It took everything within me to not stop and play with her.  I hadn’t seen a dog in so long, especially not one so sweet.  Its tail kept wagging even as it watched me stealing food.

I was reaching for the jar of pickles when I heard the cocking of a gun, and I turned around to see a large, burly man pointing a handgun at me.  The food in my hands dropped to the ground as I threw my hands up, my heart racing.  The jar of pickles shattered, the glass flying all over the floor.  “I-I’m sorry!  I’m sorry!” I gushed, feeling sweaty under the pressure of the barrel being pointed at me.  “I don’t know where I am.  I j-just woke up and I’m s-so hungry.”

Bucky’s heart pounded as he got out of the shower, hearing a commotion downstairs.

His instincts took over, and he didn’t have time to even think things through before pulling on a pair of briefs and grabbing his handgun from his bedside table before slipping down the stairs.

He had the gun in both hands as he peeked around the corner, seeing a girl digging through his fridge.  It was the cocking of the gun that alerted her to his presence, and she whirled around.

She was pretty, he could acknowledge that much.

It was when she was rambling that suddenly he remembered.  The girl in the snow.  But he’d been certain that she wouldn’t wake up for at least a few more hours.

His startling blue eyes stayed locked on her as he flipped the safety back on.  But he still kept it raised.  “Who are you?” He demanded, his voice gruff, deep.

She gave her name, and he frowned.  Just a first name?  No last?

“Where did you come from?”

“U-Up the mountain,” she said quietly, a few tears rolling down her pretty cheeks.  “Please, I…  I mean no h-harm.  Please.  I’ll go.  I swear.”

He shook his head, slowly lowering the gun.  It wasn’t like she was much of a threat.  She clearly had no idea what she was doing.  “Don’t be stupid.  You already almost froze to death once out in the storm.  Leaving would just mean that you wasted my efforts to save your life.”

“Thank you,” she said stiffly, still not moving from where she was.  It sounded more like a question than a statement.

She was skinny.  Scary skinny.  Of course, he’d seen that when he’d undressed her, but it was even more alarming seeing her in his clothes, seeing how they draped from her frail, bird-like shoulders.

He nodded to the mess around her.  “Stay still.  I don’t want you cutting your feet on the glass.”  Luckily she had the sense to listen as he swept up the glass and pickles, picking up everything around her before mopping.

He didn’t like being close to her, and she clearly didn’t like being close to him either.  Good.  It meant they would be less likely to step on each other’s toes.

Bucky was already very aware that she was going to have to stay until the snow let up enough for her to leave.

“I’m assuming you’re hungry?” He said as he put the mop away.  “You can have food.  I’m not going to starve you after rescuing you.”

She nodded, her stomach grumbling.  “Yes.  Hungry…”

Pointing to the fridge, he leaned back against the kitchen island.  “You can get whatever you want.”  He watched curiously as she reached into the door and grabbed the container of cottage cheese.  “Did you want some warm food?”

“This is fine.”

“You sure?”

“Mhm.”

She was weird.  But he couldn’t really judge considering the fact that he had no idea who she was or where she had come from.

Maybe she was a Russian spy or something.

No, that’s stupid, he reminded himself.  Your military days are over.  No one is looking for you anymore.

He showed her to one of the guest rooms once she finished eating the entire container of cottage cheese, eyeing her in case she vomited.  He had no idea how the hell she did that.  He liked cottage cheese as much as the next person, but still.

“Um…  There’s a shower through there.  And I can… get you some more clothes and stuff,” he said softly.  He stayed far away, out of her reach, and he noticed her doing the same.

She nodded, chewing on her lower lip as she looked around.  “Okay.  Thank you.”

“I’ll let you… get to it then,” he said awkwardly.  A frown settled across his face as he watched Alpine jump up onto the bed as the girl looked into the bathroom.  “Traitor.”

“Can you show me how the shower works?” She asked, poking her head back out.  “And…  What are the… shower rules here?”

A wave of confusion spread over him.  Shower rules?  “Uh…  Just… let me know if you’re gonna shower soon so I know not to use all the hot water?”

“That’s it?”

“Uh… yeah.”

“Oh.  Okay.”  She glanced over at Alpine, who was lying on her bed.  “Are you…  Are you showering soon?”

Bucky’s head tilted to the side, his brows furrowed.  His dark hair was still wet, and he was still in his briefs.

The girl nodded, letting out a weak laugh as her face flushed.  “Right.  Sorry.”  She pointed to the bathroom.  “The… shower?”

“Right!”  He slipped past her into the bathroom, making sure he didn’t touch her, before showing her how to work the knob and change the temperature.  “There we go…  Uh…  Have a good shower.  And I’m James… by the way…”  He let out a huff of air as he stood there with his hands on his hips.  “Right, um…”  He felt a bit awkward as he left quickly then.

I waited until after James had left to lock the bedroom door, swallowing as I shoved the desk chair under the handle.

There was a low whine, and I turned to see the cloud dog still on the bed.  I had thought it had left with him.  “Hi.  I thought you left.”  I reached out and scratched behind its ear, the fur soft under my fingers.

After taking a few minutes to just pet the puppy, I headed to the bathroom where the shower was still running, the mirror fogged up.

It had been so long since I’d had a hot shower.

After locking the bathroom door, I stripped off the clothes I’d been given and folded them nicely, laying them on the counter.  I could see the scrapes along my hips and cursed, wiping off the mirror so I could attempt to see them better.  I was covered in bruises, and the scrapes were clearly fresh.

But I had no idea what James thought of them or where he thought I got them.  Fuck.

I’d have to come up with some kind of excuse unless I was ready to tell him just where I’d come from.

Which just felt like it’d be so much work.  I wasn’t ready for that yet.

I didn’t come out of my room for the rest of the night.  It was the first time I’d ever been truly alone in years.

Even when He was gone, I was never truly alone.  Not when cameras captured every square inch of the basement.

When I crawled into bed, the cloud dog curled up against me and rested its head on my back.

I slept better than I had in years.  Even if I did end up vomiting up the cottage cheese.

Bucky was still confused by the girl three weeks later.  The snow hadn’t let up, which he was kinda upset about because she’d eaten one of the two containers of cottage cheese her first night.

He liked his cottage cheese.  And she ate it.

Which, okay.  He had been able to tell she was hungry and she clearly needed the food more than he did, but still.  She couldn’t have chosen something else?

Now they were having to ration the cottage cheese.  They had about half a cup left and they were both waiting for the other one to finish it off.

He was about ready to just tell her to take it.

He also didn’t understand how she’d stolen his dog from him.  Alpine had transferred her love and loyalty over to the strange girl within thirty seconds of meeting her, and it appeared that there would be no changing that anytime soon.  The dog was always at her side and wouldn’t even go outside to use the bathroom unless she sat on the porch, bundled in one of Bucky’s coats and wrapped in a blanket, and watched her.  Al didn’t even sleep with Bucky anymore.  She slept with the girl, her head on her back as if she was ensuring that she was still breathing.

On one hand, it was absolutely precious.

On the other, Bucky had lost his cuddle buddy.

But they gave each other a wide berth.  They never touched, which he was grateful for.  He didn’t… like touch.  And he got the implication that she didn’t either.

“You know, you living here kinda reminds me of the 2020 pandemic,” he said nonchalantly as they sat in the living room watching tv.  He was on the recliner, and she was curled up on the couch with Alpine in her lap.

Her head tilted to the side as she tore her attention from the movie playing on the tv.  “The what?”

Bucky blinked.  And then he blinked again.  “The…  The 2020 pandemic?  The pandemic three years ago?” He said slowly, his brows furrowed.  “Covid-19?  Everyone had to wear masks?  America was literally a cesspool of selfish assholes who were so stupid they believed Trump?”

“Trump…  Isn’t he that celebrity show host?  He was on Home Alone?  The Lost in New York one?” She asked.

He was going crazy.  He was sure of it.

“What?” She asked, sitting up a little straighter as she crossed her legs applesauce style, causing Alpine to whine before settling back down in her lap.  “Did I say something wrong?”

Bucky leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.  “Donald Trump became president in the 2016 election.  Then Biden won in 2020.”

Her eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed.  “Oh.”

“How did you not know?” He asked.

She shrugged, wrapping her arms around Alpine.  “I… haven’t watched the news… in a while…”

The man could understand that, but the whole ‘not watched the news’ in a bit really only worked when it came to things like… like a celebrity doing something stupid or a law being passed.  Two whole presidential elections?  That was…  That was Amish levels of ignorance.  Even if she didn’t watch tv, there were billboards and signs and merchandise like those stupid Make America Great Again hats.

As if America had ever been great.  And he had a double right to say that, since he’d been a stupid eighteen year old kid that the military had preyed on, getting him to join up and head overseas when America had no reason to be there.

He’d lost his arm because of it.

“How long has it been since you watched the news?” He questioned, his heart racing.  He had a bad feeling about it.  A really, really bad feeling that settled in his gut.

She buried her face in Alpine’s fur, her shoulders rising and falling as she huffed.

She’d put on some weight since getting there, thankfully.  He’d been making sure she got all her protein and started her on vitamins supplements he had.

“Eleven years…”

He paused, blinking slowly.  “Eleven years?  What the hell do you mean ‘eleven years?’”  He took a moment when he saw the way she flinched away from him.  He’d figured out pretty quick that she couldn’t handle any raising of the voice.  She’d shut down.  “I’m sorry.  I’m sorry.  But…  I still don’t know anything about you except your name.  Not even your last name.  I don’t know where you came from.  I still don’t know how the hell you ended up in my front lawn, half frozen to death.  I…”  He sighed.  “What happened?”

She was quiet for so long that he was sure she wasn’t going to reply.  He started to get ready to stand up, letting out a huff.

“I was thirteen,” I said quietly, my voice barely audible.  Alpine’s fur was so soft in my fingers and against my cheek.  It kept me grounded, kept me tied down to the Earth so I didn’t float away in the cloudy memories that covered the sky in my head.

Bucky was watching me closely, clearly surprised that I’d actually spoken.

My throat felt so dry.  “Um…  It was a few months after my birthday…  And I had just gotten a new phone.  It was… It was one of those sliding phones with a full keyboard?  It had a touch screen, and it was cherry red.”  I couldn’t help but let out a weak laugh as I remembered that stupid phone.  I’d been utterly obsessed with it, like any thirteen year old would be.  “I was in eighth grade and even though most people I went to school with already had an iPhone, that phone was the coolest thing ever.”

He was watching me in a way that was so intense, so focused.  I hadn’t ever had someone look at me like that.  Like he was actually listening.

“And, uh…  I used to walk to the river in the woods by my house,” I said, my voice growing soft again.  “I would go and sit and read on nice days…  I didn’t really have… friends.  I was a bit of a loner, and new.  We’d just moved there that April.”  My heart ached.  I missed that river.  I missed my parents.  More than anything.  “There was a man that I’d see sometimes at the river fishing…”

Bucky’s breath audibly hitched, and I could see his hands gripping his knees tightly.

“I was lonely,” I said, my voice cracking as I clutched onto Alpine that much tighter.  The puppy let out a whine as my eyes water.  “I didn’t have any friends yet.  I was an o-only child…  So, yeah, I’d talk t-to him.  I didn’t think it was wrong.  I f-figured if he was going to do something, he would’ve done it the f-first eighty times I s-saw him.”

“He took you, didn’t he?” He asked quietly, his voice gravelly.

Avoiding his eyes, I gave a short nod.  “Yeah.”

He stood up, his jaw set as he reached for his phone.  “We have to call the police.  If you were being held in a house on this mountain, then that means whoever took you lives close enough for you to have gotten here in a snowstorm.”

“NO!” I said as I scrambled up.  Alpine flopped to the side with a bark as she watched me scramble to knock his cell phone out of his hand.  “No cops!” I breathed out, eyes feral.

“Okay,” he said quietly, his voice soothing as he held up his hands in surrender.  “Okay.  No cops.  I won’t call the cops…”

I could see the confusion on his face, but a wave of relief washed over me as he agreed to not call the cops without asking too many questions.  I’d already shared so much.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” He asked, casually switching the subject as he sat back down.  He didn’t even grab his phone.

“Yeah.  Yeah, that sounds good,” I said as I took my seat again, swallowing thickly.  “Can we watch that one you were telling me about?” I asked as Alpine licked my face before settling in my lap once again.  “The…  The one about the Day of the Dead?”

An easy smile spread across his lips.  “Coco?  Yeah.  We can watch whatever you want.”

There was a shift in the air after she told Bucky about where she’d come from.  They still kept a generally wide berth, but… they were closer.  He was definitely in no hurry for her to leave.  Not when he could keep her safe in his cabin.

He felt a wave of protectiveness every time he thought of her.  He had someone to take care of now.  Other than Alpine and Steve when they were kids, he’d never had that.  Even Rebecca had been so independent growing up.

He liked having someone to protect, to take care of.  He liked checking in on her when he woke up in the morning and when he went to bed.

Which he’d started doing once she’d stopped locking her door at night.

Bucky liked preparing her breakfast and coffee for her in the morning, slowly helping her increase her food intake without hurting her tummy.  He liked checking in on her and making her laugh with his stupid jokes.

He liked… her.  She was easily the prettiest gal he’d seen, even if it was unassuming at first.

But he wasn’t a creep like the man who took her, whoever he was.  He wasn’t going to pressure her into being with him just because he was providing her shelter and food.

He wouldn’t use her like that.

And besides, it wasn’t as though she would want him.  She had just turned twenty-four that year, and he was forty-one.  There was a good seventeen year age gap, and it felt even wider once he’d realized that her education had effectively stopped at thirteen years old.

Of course, he’d started to remedy that.  He’d found some kind of online learning platform that he’d remembered from the pandemic.  Parents had started the free service in order to make sure that kids were still getting their education as schools shut down and they were pushed into Zoom classes in the autumn of 2020, after America failed and sent them back to school.

She was a lot smarter than she realized, and he made sure to tell her as often as possible.

They had a camaraderie that he hadn’t ever expected to find after he’d pushed Steve away.

Steve had been lucky.  He’d been good enough at drawing that he’d gotten a full ride to art school.  He didn’t have to enlist in order to have a future.

It wasn’t that Bucky was bitter about that.  Steve deserved it.  And now Bucky’s job was taking pictures of the mountains he lived on, and he got paid so much that he really only had to work a few months a year.

“You always talk about Steve,” she said softly one night as they ate dinner in the living room, as per their routine.  “Do you still talk to him?”

“Uh…  No,” he said quietly.  “Lately I’ve been thinking about reaching out, though…  I miss him.”

Her head tilted to the side as she looked at him, her spoon halfway to her mouth.  He’d made chicken tortilla soup, since that had apparently become her favorite.  “What happened?  If you don’t mind me asking…”

Bucky smiled weakly down at his own half empty bowl.  “Well…”  His spoon clinked against the side.  “It was hard after I came home… from overseas…  I’d lost my arm…  I wasn’t the same guy I was…”  He took a deep breath.  “I was angry… at everything… and I took it out on him, even when it wasn’t his fault…  And then one day I just packed up and left.  Found my way here.  I bought this place with the money I had and fixed it up…  It was a real dump.  Basically foreclosed.  But I spent an entire summer fixing it.  Had to get it done before the first snow.  And it also got me to figure out how to use my prosthetic.  It’s some… fancy experimental thing.”

There was a flicker of the lights, and then nothing.  It went completely dark.  The heater stopped, the clock on the top of the stove went off.

“Bucky?” She whimpered, the fear evident in her voice.

“Hey, it’s okay.  It’s okay.  I’m here,” he said as he used his phone flashlight to illuminate the situation a little bit.  “I’m gonna find some flashlights, okay?  You stay right there with Alpine.”

She nodded, setting her bowl to the side and wrapping her arms around the puppy.  “Okay…  H-Hurry back.”

Oh, he definitely would.  He didn’t wanna leave his bear cub alone for too long.

He found two flashlights in the basement before coming back.  “Okay, let’s get all the blankets and stuff together,” he said as he handed her one of them.  “It’s gonna get cold real quick without the heating working.”  There was no way he was gonna be able to get out to look at the generator with how heavy the snow was falling.

They piled all the blankets up on his bed before she crawled under the mountain of them, Alpine curling up next to her like always.

She watched as Bucky sat on the edge of the bed, watching the slow rise and fall of his back.  She could practically see the steam coming from his ears from how much he was overthinking.  “You can take your arm off, you know,” she said quietly, sitting up on her elbows.  “I’m…  I’m not gonna think it’s weird.”

Bucky let out a weak laugh.  “You sure, bear cub?” He asked, his voice wavering.  “I don’t want to freak you out…”

“Something that’s a part of you could never be bad,” she said quietly.

His heart stuttered inside his chest.  He didn’t know what to say in reply.  He’d never had someone say something like that.  His hand was shaking as he reached up and undid his prosthetic.  It was a whole thing he went through every night and every morning, since it was attached to his nerves.  He hissed as it finally came off, setting it in the open case on the ground as he rolled his shoulders a few times to get the tension out.

“See?” She said as she watched him, her eyes running over his back muscles and the scars that covered his shoulder.  “There’s nothing bad about you.”

Bucky slowly crawled under the blankets, staying on the other side of the bed.  He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.

“You gonna stay over there all night?’

He blinked, and then he blinked again, his eyes staring up at the ceiling.  “I…  What?”

She was still sitting up on her elbows, her lower lip caught between her teeth.  Her eyes were flickering between the blankets and him.  “You don’t have to stay over there…  I’m not… gonna break if we cuddle, you know…”

Bucky’s heart stopped inside his chest as his mind went blank.  He suddenly wasn’t thinking anymore about how he might hurt her.  She wanted him.  Or at least… wanted him to cuddle with her.

Which he was more than happy to comply.

I scooted over a little closer to Bucky when I realized he was frozen staring at me.  He seemed to be in shock over the fact that I wanted to cuddle.

“Jamie?” I said softly, my fingers grabbing onto his arm and tugging him closer.  “Please?”

I watched as he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he nodded.

“I mean…  You don’t have to,” I added quickly, feeling a flash of anxiety.  What if I had imagined everything?  The flirting?  The calling me bear cub?  “Not if…  Not if you don’t want to.”

Maybe my emotional growth was just as stunted as my educational growth.

But then moved closer to the center of the bed, his strong arm wrapping around my waist and pulling me close.  So close that I was lying on top of his chest.  He was so nice and warm.

And so strong.  He wasn’t like one of those guys in Hollywood or the bodybuilders that were all dehydrated in order to look like they had a twenty pack of abs or something.  He was the real kind of strong.

It was sexy as hell.

And it had been so long since I’d had a gentle touch…  Or had someone hold me just for the sake of holding me.

I hadn’t realized just how badly I needed it until Bucky was holding me close, his lips pressing to my forehead.

“James?  If you don’t mind me asking…  How did you lose your arm?”

I could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he took in my question.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“No, I…  I want to,” he insisted as he brought me that much closer.  His chin rested on top of my head.  “I was on break…  And these little local kids loved playing hopscotch with us.  We’d draw out the hopscotch on the ground and we would use a little rock and all that…  Then one day, there was a truck out by the road.  One of ours.  We didn’t think anything of it even though it wasn’t where it was supposed to be.  We figured that out later.”  He pressed his lips to my head.  He was trembling, even if he was trying to hide it.  “We were searching for a good rock to use… and when I got close to grab a rock under the wheel… someone set off a bomb.  Blew my arm clean off.  It was all in… all in slow motion.”  Bucky sighed, shaking his head.  “I’d rather it be me then one of those little kids though.”

I sighed, squeezing him tight.  “You’re a good man, James.”  He clearly didn’t wanna think about it anymore, so I quickly changed the subject.  “Have you ever had someone braid your hair?” I asked as I reached up, running my fingers through his long hair.

“Can’t say I have,” he said, a chuckle reverberating through his chest.  “Why?  You wanna braid my hair for me, bear cub?”

I hummed, twirling a strand of his hair around my fingers.  “Mm…  I think it’d look real pretty braided…”

“Pretty?  You calling me pretty?” He snorted.

“Mmhm.”

“Why’s that?”

“‘Cause you’re pretty.”

By the blush on his cheeks, I could tell that he hadn’t ever been called pretty again.

And I knew I’d have to start calling him pretty a lot more.

Bucky had a shy smile on his face as he squeezed me closer to him, burying his face in my hair.  “You’re prettier, bear cub.”  He kissed my forehead again, humming.  “Get some sleep.  I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

It was another two months before there was a break in the snow long enough for them to be able to head to town for more groceries.  Plus, they needed to stop and get her some clothing that actually fit her.

Not that Bucky didn’t mind her wearing his clothes.  He liked it a lot, actually.  His little bear cub in his sweaters and such.

But she did want some pants that fit her proper and some underwear, at least.

And she was excited, but clearly anxious.  “Come on, Alpine,” she said happily as they ran out to the truck, Bucky following quickly behind.

“You’re adorable,” he said softly as he climbed in the driver’s seat.

“Shut it,” she said, covering her face in Alpine’s white fur.

He was falling for her.  Hard.  Even after the electric came back on, they hadn’t stopped staying in the same bed.  It just felt natural.  They hadn’t done anything more than cuddle, but he wasn’t exactly in a rush.  Bucky was very happily letting her take the reins when it came to how quick they moved.

But he did wanna talk to her about being together officially at some point.

The one thing he was really worried about was the fact that she still wouldn’t let him call the police.

He just wanted to find the man who had hurt her and wring his neck with his bare hands.

Or at least have him thrown in jail.  At the very least.

The first thing they did was get her some clothes and shoes so she could change into them, even though he was pleased to note that she did keep on his sweater.

She looked really, really good in green.

Like, really good.

“We need at least two containers of cottage cheese,” she said as she grabbed them, grinning.

“Oh, yeah?” He asked, coming up to her and wrapping his arms around her waist.  He couldn’t help it.  He loved touching her.  Preferred to have at least one hand on her at all times.  “Better make that three containers, bear cub.  From what I remember, someone ate an entire container in one sitting and then promptly threw all of it up.”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.”  Her cheeks flushed as she nuzzled into him.  “And I only have two hands, James.”

A slow smirk spread over his lips as he looked at her pretty face.  He loved getting her all flustered.  “I didn’t say you had to grab it all at once.”  As if to make a point, he reached over and grabbed a third container, moving to set it in the cart.

It was when he had turned his head away for less than thirty seconds that he heard the sound of plastic hitting the ground, and saw cottage cheese splattered across the marble tiles.

“Bear cub?” He said in confusion as he looked around.  But she’d disappeared.  His brows furrowed as his eyes met Brock Rumlow’s, who was glowering at him for some fucking reason.  His eyes flickered down to his outfit, his heart stopping inside his chest when he saw the badge.

Brock Rumlow was a police officer.

His bear cub hated cops and refused to let him call the cops.

She’d disappeared when she saw him.

Fuck.

He didn’t like the thoughts that were running in his head.

Bucky had to find her before Brock did.

He didn’t even attempt to act nonchalant as he ran through the store, leaving the cart there.  His heart was absolutely racing.

Alpine wasn’t sitting outside the front door where they’d left her.

He rushed to the parking lot, breathing out a sigh of relief when he found her and Alpine in the truck, huddled down on the floor.  “Oh, thank fuck,” he breathed out as he got in the driver’s seat.  He didn’t even buckle before he was peeling out of the parking lot.  “He’s not gonna touch you, baby.  I promise.”

She looked up at him with glassy eyes, tears staining down her soft cheeks.  “H-He…  He’s the one who…”

“I know,” he said quietly as he reached over to take her hand, intertwining their fingers and squeezing.  He was flying up the mountain as fast as he could without spinning out, heading for the cabin.  “I know that it’s him.  But he’s not going to touch you, okay?  I’m not gonna let him.  I’m gonna protect you.”  He handed her his phone out of his pocket.  “Bear cub, can you go to my contacts and call Sam?  Tell him we need him as soon as possible.”

She nodded, her hands trembling as she found the name and called.  “H-Hello?  This is Bucky’s friend and w-we need someone at Bucky’s immediately.  Please.”

When they got back to the cabin, he rushed her inside.  “Go upstairs to our bedroom, lock the door, and then go to the bathroom and lock the door,” he said.  “Take the handgun in my bedside table with you.”

“J-Jamie, I’m scared,” she whimpered, her hands shaking.

He rushed forward, his hands holding her face as he pulled her into a kiss.  “It’s all gonna be okay.  But don’t come out for anyone that isn’t me, alright?” He said softly, caressing her cheeks.  “Take Alpine with you.”

She nodded, and he let out a sigh of relief as she went.

He grabbed the gun he had hidden in the living room, quickly loading it.  He knew that Rumlow would be coming up after them, especially if he was the one who had kept his precious girl kidnapped for over a decade.

He had a lot to lose.

But so did Bucky.  He’d just gotten his girl, and he wasn’t losing her anytime soon.

Bucky Barnes would not be losing the one person that made him feel human again.

And if it came down to it, and he died protecting her, he’d be okay with that as long as she was safe.  He’d just have to bring down Brock with him.

He stiffened as he heard the car pull into the drive with a roar and then the slamming of the door.  He knew it wasn’t Sam.  It would take him longer than that to get up there considering when they’d called.

Brock didn’t even bother knocking.  He shot through the lock and threw the door open.

It was all a blur.  Bucky shot at him and managed to catch him in the thigh, but Brock just kept coming.  He was pretty sure he had a bulletproof vest on, too.

“So this is where the little brat’s been?” Brock snarled, glaring as he pointed the gun at him.  “I figured she’d died out in the snow.  Would’ve been better if she had.”

Bucky wasn’t going to dignify it with a response.  He knew Brock was just trying to rile him up to get him to fuck up.  And he couldn’t let that happen when his girl’s life was on the line.

What he did do was aim at Brock’s hand and get him to drop the gun before he rushed forward and pinned him to the ground to wait for Sam.  He shoved him to the ground, glaring at him harshly.  “You will never touch her again,” he hissed, emphasizing each word as his hand wrapped around his throat and squeezed threateningly.  “And I’d fucking kill you now, but you don’t deserve a quick death.”  He spit in his face.  “I want you to get put in prison for life, and I want to hear about how your ass is getting kicked everyday for kidnapping and raping a little girl, and holding her hostage for over a decade.  I’m gonna personally make sure you never see the light of day again.”

As soon as the door opened and Sam came in with two other officers, he lifted his hands in surrender, getting off him once he knew that Brock wouldn’t be able to get out.

Before anyone could stop to question him, he ran upstairs.  “BABY?” He called out as he knocked on the bedroom door.

It took less than thirty seconds for his girl to open the door and throw herself into his arms, Alpine barking excitedly behind her.

“Hey, Alpine,” he said with a laugh as he scooped her up, wrapping her legs around his waist as she buried her face in his neck.  “Did you protect your mama?  Yeah?”

She let out a weak laugh as she nuzzled in further.  “Are you okay?” She asked, her voice cracking as she pulled back to look at him, holding his face as she checked him for injuries.

“Bear cub, he didn’t even touch me,” he said softly, holding her close.  “He’s in cuffs now, being put in the back of a cop car to go to prison…”  He kissed her forehead.  “He can’t ever get near you again.  They’re gonna search his place and it’ll all be over.  You never have to go back there ever again.”

I jerked awake, letting out a broken scream.  Sweat dripped down my back, tears rolling down my cheeks.

Alpine let out a worried whine from where she laid on my feet, keeping them toasty.

“Hey…  Hey, I’m here,” Bucky whispered sleepily as he brought me into his chest with his one arm.  His prosthetic had been taken off earlier.  “I’ve got you, bear cub…  I’m right here…”

I crumbled into tears as I was pulled onto his lap, my nose brushing against his neck.  “J-Jamie…”

“Was it the dream again?”

I nodded, my hands grasping at him to hold him close.  “I wa-was back in that basement…  W-With Him.”

He had gotten to see the basement first hand.  The concrete walls.  The dirty mattress that rested on the ground without any sheets.  The bugs and the rats that I had shared that space with.  The broken window that Brock had covered with a trash bag.  The cameras.

He’d seen me through the whole trial.

It didn’t take long for Brock to be put on trial and found guilty.  Hell, the jury only deliberated for an hour before coming back and giving their verdict.

With all the evidence from his cabin and his own poor defense, I didn’t even have to testify, which was a relief.

The piece of shit actually thought he’d get off easy.  But he got fifty years, and considering he was already over forty, it wasn’t likely that he’d ever get to leave prison again.

There was a bit of… question about what would happen to me after.  Where I would go.

My parents came to see me at Bucky’s, and they started talking about me going home with them and how they still had my room all set up.

But I just couldn’t leave Bucky and Alpine.  Not after everything.

And as much as I knew that me being taken wasn’t their fault, I didn’t feel safe with them like I did with him.

I thought Bucky was going to cry when I said that I wanted to stay with him.  He’d rushed to reassure them that he was going to take care of me and he was already working on helping me get my GED.

They seemed to like him, which was good.

And yeah.  The nightmares still came back sometimes.  I would always be haunted, even with my therapists’ help.

“I’ve got you…  He’s never gonna touch you again.  You’re safe,” Bucky whispered as he kissed my cheek.  He pulled back, his hand cupping my face.  “I love you.  And I’ll never let anyone hurt you ever again.  And you know Alpine won’t.”

“I know,” I said softly as I rested my head against his chest as he laid us down again.  “I love you, too.”

No, the nightmares didn’t go away.  But that didn’t matter when I had Bucky.

[loveislattes]

Good Morning (Darkiplier/Reader) Fluffy Smut Drabble

Request: As a drabble, waking up sleepy and content next to your choice of either Dark or Infelix. Can just stay fluffy and adorable or they can be a little more, dirty ;)

Important: Reader is gender-neutral but is a vagina owner!

Warnings: Smut (obvi), pet names, light choking, power play, shadow tendril/tentacles, and no use of protection.

A/N: This was written quickly on my phone while at work so please excuse any errors. I was just excited to get something down on paper!

As always, if you would like to support me, I have a Ko-Fi (here) for donations and I usually have a few slots open for commissions (unless life gets in the way)!

Ever so slowly, the awake world began to invade your sleepy space as you rolled onto your side with a throaty groan. The alarm hadn't gone off yet so you knew it wasn't time to wake up, but you weren't brave enough to crack your eyelids and check those blaring red numbers to see just how long you had left.

As you were starting to fall back into a light slumber, your bed partner curled up around you with a deep groan. Goosebumps ran down your arms as the prickles of his short beard dragged across your bare shoulder.

"What time is it?"

Desire shot through your body at the sleepy rasp whispered right into your ear and you couldn't resist wiggling back against him in turn, whimpering as his straining cock pushed against your bare thighs.

"I haven't checked," you admitted softly, "Early though."

"Good."

The burn of his beard slowly gave way to soft lips and easy nibbles that trailed up your shoulder to the lobe of your ear. Sharp teeth pulled a heady gasp from your lips while his fingers drew your top thigh back over his, his dick slotting perfectly against your cunt.

"That means I have time to ravish you before the fools are demanding my attention," Dark purred huskily, "That is, if you're up to it, darling."

Wordlessly, you reached back and sunk your fingers into his shaggy locks, gently directing his mouth to your throat as you stretched your leg back further to offer him room.

"Always, my love," you murmured.

"Hmmm, that's my good pet," he rumbled lowly against your throat.

You were thankful for the late-night romp that left you both nude because it meant there was no barrier to impede his fingers from slipping between your thighs.

"Fuck!"

Every swirl of his fingertips pulled weak tremors from your form, clit still hypersensitive from the blessed tongue lashing he'd treated you to hours ago. When a rather rough convulsion made you yelp, he slowed his motions and brought his hand to your hip instead.

Before you could even question him, he said, "If this is going to be too much-"

"No! It's not that. I'm just really sensitive still. I want this. Maybe just avoid my clit for a while?"

He didn't respond other than a warm hum and immediately you knew he was reconsidering the whole ordeal. He did that a lot, got overprotective over silly things- even over himself. To help sway him back to the dark side, you hastily lifted your hips and wiggled so his head was pushing ever so slightly against your entrance.

His nails dug sharply into your skin as he unleashed a demonic growl.

"I want you, please," you begged softly.

"You're playing with danger, darling, but I suppose I shall humor you this once."

He snapped his hips forward without hesitation and buried his cock as far as possible with that first thrust, and in that same motion, his idle hand came to encircle your throat.

At that moment, it felt like you had shattered into a million delicious pieces. Your mind instantly shifted into that carefully crafted space that was reserved for Dark, and Dark only, as he invaded every inch of your body. Having had him again after many loving, arduous rounds a few hours ago... it was like you'd never stopped in the first place.

"Look at you," he grunted softly, "My perfect little pet, still so wet and ready for me, taking me so perfectly."

"A-Always, Dark, always ready!" You gasped out between breaths.

Your blood pumped heavily in your head as he tightened his fingers and quickened his thrusts. The slap of skin on skin synchronized almost perfectly with every thump of your heart and momentarily you wondered if he could hear your heart race to time it so perfectly.

Aching to touch him, you snagged his wrist tight and ran your thumb back and forth over the top of his hand, mumbling frantic "I love you"s as he hastily pushed you toward the end.

"And I you, my love."

He suddenly withdrew his hold on your throat, fingers dancing down your curves until they came to rest just below your navel.

"May I touch you now?" He purred sweetly.

"Fuck, Dark, yes!"

His nails left a stinging trail down your stomach and over your mound, making you clench hard down on him before gracing you with a sweet burst of pleasure.

"Fu-uh-ck," he hissed sharply.

Before you knew what was happening, you were facedown. Dark manhandled you onto your knees, hips high in the arm and back arched low, giving him the perfect leverage to thrust back in without pause.

As if planned by the universe, there was a knock at the door the moment he started to speak.

"Hey-"

"If you do not disappear within the next two seconds, I will spend the next millennia eviscerating you from the inside out, over and over until I tire of seeing your entrails at my feet. Am I clear?!"

Your cheeks reddened in mortification as your body reacted undeniably to power and rage in his voice, hips pushing back into his, needing more of his touch.

You felt as if bruises would form instantly as his hands took place harshly on your hips, jerking you back again as he thrust in with a snarl.

"You like that, do you?" He sneered darkly, "Is it knowing that I would kill to remain in you for just a second longer, hmm? Or maybe… just maybe, it's the knowledge that if I didn't love you so, I could easily do the same to you?"

An uncontrollable whine escaped as you buried your face in the pillows, but suddenly his hand was around the back of your neck, jerking your head up almost painfully.

"Tell me, darling, am I right?" He asked, voice shaking with the strength of each thrust of his hips.

You found words to be nearly impossible as he fucked you rough and frantic, the taste of your orgasm teasing at the edges of fruition.

"Yes, yes, oh fuck- yesss!"

He released his hold only to shove your face back into the pillows, head aside to allow you just enough room to breathe, with a death grip on the nape of your neck to pin you in place.

"Come for me then. Let me feel what my power does to you."

The sound of the headboard slamming into the wall thundered through the room, rivaled only by the tortured cries and moans pouring from your lips. And then you felt that familiar coil of cool energy between your thighs. If you could look, you knew you'd find one of those dangerous black shadows wrapped around your hip, dipping just below your belly, and the thought alone made you tighten. You knew he would never hurt you, but you'd also seen the pain and horror his powers could amass.

His name became a jumbled prayer on your lips as you shuddered under him. Every thrust of his cock, every brush of that life-stealing tendril, it coalesced into a mighty and fierce wave that stole your breath.

Tears smeared messily between your face and the pillow as your pleasure erupted with finality. You couldn't help but release a sob of utter devastation at the bliss wrecking your nerves, core clenching painfully tight around him as if trying to keep him in and never let him go.

"Oh fuck- that's it, pet," he snarled brokenly, "Like a fucking vice- agh!"

The sensation of his cock throbbing and emptying hot into your cunt sent you over another little wave, tearing a distraught moan from deep in your chest.

It was overwhelming in the best of ways.

As if knowing your turmoil, Dark released all holds on your body and gently brought you both onto your sides- oh so similar to the way you had started.

Despite panting for breath like you'd just run a marathon, you couldn't help the goofy smile that curved up your lips.

"If there weren't so much to be done, I'd cancel it all just to lay here and see that beautiful expression on your face, darling. You are absolute perfection," he murmured, planting a great kiss on your cheek, "But alas, I have some… unfortunates to lead."

[teeth-farie]

Love Letters: Delphi and Julian

☞. . . A love letter commission for my friend @ghoulfriendfangs ! The context behind this one is Julian being sappy and dramatic and writing a post coital letter. I hope you like it!

A scroll is left on your nightstand table, along with a steaming mug of rich coffee. The paper is textured under your fingers with little ink-stained blots peppering the corners. The handwriting is quick and scratchy, near illegible if not for your familiarity with it.

My dearest Delphi,

Last night was an utter dream. You’re everything I could have wanted and hoped for and more; and even as I write this in the earliest crack of dawn, I reminisce about how your lips felt on mine, your hands searing against my skin. Oh Delphi, you truly have no idea what you do to me.

It’s silly, I know, to be so worked up over a letter like this, but I know I’d never truly confess how I feel for my tongue would betray me. You’ve told me before my mouth seemed quite good at babbling, though, ah, that might be fit for a different context than this.

To be honest, I’ve never felt the way I did with you before. I like to fancy myself as experienced, but you render me breathless and blushing like a virgin far too easily; though I’m not one to complain. I’ve never felt so vulnerable with anyone else, I’ve never connected to someone before like I have with you. It felt so right, to lay with you; it felt like you’ve touched me a million times before and it wasn’t any less tantalizing. I still feel so light, even writing this now. I could walk up to the mirror and peer at myself, I could see the bites and swells you’ve kissed into my skin–I could press and feel the reminder of your love buried into my flesh. I don’t want them to ever fade away.

Being with you is so blissful, it feels like something I wasn’t allowed to have. Now, I’m the kind of man to get into things I shouldn’t, but taking your heart, I couldn't bear. And that left you with the only option to take mine, didn’t it? I could never be upset with that; all of me is yours. My heart, my soul, my everything. Take what you need, Delphi, I am but your faithful lover. And your toy, your bitch, your knife block, anything you want me to be, I can be good All I ask for in return is a slice of heaven that is your affections.

Sometimes I still can’t believe this is something I can have- that you’re someone I can have. I never thought I could have a life like this, a life with you, a life where I’m not twisting at every turn avoiding the guards. I’m a free man, and I have you to thank for that; even if I was idiotic through the entire ordeal.

Even the mundane things that I used to take for granted, I can enjoy with you. Like a stroll through the marketplace or even sitting by the window to watch the sunset with you. Ah, I’ve really gotten sappy, haven’t I? I’m still feeling a little fuzzy from last night, who knew you had this effect on me?

I love you, Delphi. I truly do and I have since that moment together on the docks. I want to have a life with you, a long life where we both get wrinkly and old together and sail the seas to far-off places. Would you grant this salty old seadog this wish? Alas, it can’t be done at this moment, so why not come to the kitchen for breakfast instead?

Love,

Julian

The sound of clattering and a surprised curse is well-timed enough when you finish reading the letter, bringing a smile onto your face and a warmth in your chest. You shake your head and grab the mug of cooled coffee, sipping it gingerly as you get out of bed to greet your sappy, love-stricken fool.

[madfantasy]

Dearest Mani, you are always in my heart and prayers! You're incredibly talented as an artist and a writer (I think you could write a good autobiography, I find your writing both heartbreaking and fascinating), and so strong and persistent! I dreamed of becoming an artist as a kid, but wasn't allowed to study drawing, but when I became a teen nobody could prevent me from learning... but I was too hesitant... with too low self-esteem... so I never learned, alas. Be blessed, my darling!

Oh dear Bianca, thank you so much, bless your heart🫂💛

I always fear when I share about my life that I be a burden.. I have to apologise

I'm sorry you had that experience, I understand at times people think of art as not a rewarding path and maybe discourage people from it, but if its your dream, its yours and it is in you, and you're never late to start if the dream still dwells within the space of your pleased mild unconsciousness and the results shouldn't matter most of the time, the more you do it, the more it be obvious what you can and can't do, and what you want and don't want to do in the vast fields of art~

I honestly have never considered art as something I'd go with, I actually was a mathmatic wiz and enjoyed solving these equations like chewing on sour candy,  my mouth frothing at the thought of getting more... and wrestling, its still my second goal..

Art was something I did out of necessity; I wasn't allowed to express much, it was similar to the life style of military (the irony here is my last name means warrior, and alot of distant family were inrolled, including my guardians) it was a life line mechanism your body forcesyou to do, to breath.  I didn't think of it,  I didn't plan it, I didn't consider it Art, so I always feel because I didn't seek it as art or have sought to learn it properly or have in my possession a sealed certificate of learning it, i can't call myself an artist! (But that continuesly was proven wrong as I became more and more involved in it)

And the amount of resistance I got towards me drawing equalled me stubbornly drawing even more. It was as if I was involved in the dark arts, which it was to my family, my teachers, my peers— everyone. It was a reason for them to crush me, but it didn't crush the urge to draw non stop.

I remember as a kid they let me cuz its child's play, and was aware of all those adults saying to my guardians, oh Mani's art is amazing but you know what to do when they grow up. They beat the freak out of me every time they caught me doing it. So my choices became draw while they are asleep ( or my own sleep time under the covers) or at work. Second place is at school, I was taking every pause possibility to draw like I'm possessed to, while decently acing school. I mean I literally did my homework and everything at school so I don't have to do anything home but draw.

Inevitably I was found out at school, even tho I was and still a very quiet shy kid, and I try to hide my art anyway possible whilst drawing. Evey time the consequences were either of those two: utter humiliation, or a praise with guilt.

They praised me saying its amazing but I can't do that, and to please stop it. Or just being silently fascinated by it and taking it without telling me its good so they "won't encourage me"

The humiliation was me pointed out as what not to do to the whole class, and telling me I'm going to hell when I die and be forced to try and make those creations I made come to life, seeing that I could not, be tortured with alot of graphically disturbing description of fire and burns. First when I was 7 years old. I remember standing too in a line in front of the whole school at queue as the "shameful" students line, watching some of my peers cry and me just standing there just struggling not to laugh. Cuz idk

Other time peers snatching my art from me and running around with it and calling me names, and such, and it takes a bit more than rough housing by me to get it back. Often school calling home and getting my share of beating from there too.

I remember the biggest humiliation I got is by a freaking art teacher snatching my mouths stocked folder thanks to the stupidity of a peer I didn't even allow to share my art with leaving it wide open for the teacher to see. They took it, questioned my classmates as to how the frk nobody reported my art to the admin or whatever. And if they were okay with the horrors I make. They were heh.

But didn't stop the admin from basicly spreading that and assuming that i am crazy and need psychological help. Which made more hard beatings at home hearing that in the phone call they made.

I eventually fell out from school because of continuing decline financial situation and my mental stability. The cycle didn't end, guardians never stopped killing me over it, destroying my art, threatening, the whole work— till I got commissioned for the very first time. Like only few years ago. They let off seeing now it brings money..

Till this day they don't know what I draw thanks to switching digitally nd speaking English. Also they don't have the health to go around snooping in my stuff anymore right around the time too

The bottom line is, I don't know how everything just fell into place, into being an artist rather than it being a choice to make.. still carrying those shackles of always get those flashes of being hurt by it, regretting posting and drawing always and feeling its never good enough or not being something acceptable or sought-after. But on the flip side, it's the embodiment of freedom, it's the most accomplished, happy, fulfilled, humaaaaann I ever be while practising it.

What you love and will be will happen no matter what and how long...

I'm sorry for more sad dibble about my life..

I am happy today; I just wore like passes as a boy trouble maker here and my guardians were laughing and hyping me to go out on the streets and make some trouble. The exact intention hehe. And I wanted to share but can't do that publicly but posted on my ko-fi hehe

Leaving u with sev wip , and all my love 💛🌟

[yellowsuitcase]

Oblivious Part 2 // Draco Malfoy

A/N: Hey guys, PLEASE TAKE TIME TO READ THIS!!! I feel like I’ve taken on a series too early, I wrote Part 2 a long time ago but never got around to finishing it, so it didn’t end with what I wanted it to, but it’ll all work out in the end. But please be open-minded, I know it’s not my best work by any means, but I think it’s quite sweet in some moments. The juicy bits are yet to come. I’m sorry for such a long wait. Truth be told, I’ve been experiencing some writer’s block and I really just wanted to get SOMETHING out to you guys. Thank you for your patience!

Summary: Draco and Y/N talk about what happened at Hogsmeade and after a tragic event, Draco finally comes clean.

Warning(s): SPOILERS! Violence, swearing(I can’t remember if there is or not tbh)

Word Count: 4k

Part 1

Draco exhaled heavily as he gently stroked his girlfriend’s temple. He was trying to get her to fall asleep after the long day she’d just had. However, he knew first hand how uncomfortable the Hospital Wing’s beds were. He didn’t expect her to find slumber easily. Besides, he could practically see the gears turning in her head as she gazed up at him. Her expression was one of befuddlement.

Madam Pomfrey had already fixed her up, but she had requested for Y/N to stay the night so that she’d be able to reassess her ankle the next morning. Draco knew he should’ve taken this valuable time where Y/N would be, essentially, out of commission, to work on the cabinet. Alas, he couldn’t bring himself to leave the chair Madam Pomfrey had provided him with.

Draco fought a smile from creeping onto his lips as he ran his eyes over Y/N’s frame. He loved her all the time, but it was always a special treat whenever he got to see her in between consciousness and sleep. She’d curl up into a ball, make herself appear small. Every time she talked, it was as if she were drunk; her words would come out muffled or slurred, and none of her sentences would make sense. It was a rather endearing sight to behold. But Y/N wasn’t her usual sleepy self tonight; she was wide awake and studying Draco’s face intently. 

“Why didn’t you take me over there to help?” she asked him, point-blank.

Draco let out another sigh and ran his hand through his hair. Boy, oh boy, was his girlfriend quite the stubborn young woman. Although, perhaps that made sense as she was a Gryffindor after all. Part of him wanted to spill his guts to her. How good would it feel to finally tell someone what he’s been going through? He parted his lips to spill his guts but thought better of it at the last moment.

Draco opened his mouth again. “I thought it was dangerous; I didn’t want you to get hurt any further than you already were. That’s all,” he said, providing her with yet another false answer. The unimpressed look on her face signaled to Draco that she didn’t buy it.

“Why were you in such a rush to leave? Maybe we could’ve helped her, Draco.”

Draco clenched his fists. He really needed to get better at lying. But perhaps he was performing poorly due to the fact he was lying to Y/N, the girl he loved so dearly. Nevertheless, anger began to swell in his chest. “I already told you, it looked dangerous,” he snapped. Y/N didn’t move a muscle; she was used to Draco’s sudden mood swings. Instead, she just stared at him, seemingly awaiting what he would do next.

Draco contemplated his next words heavily. Would mentioning Voldemort be too much? Maybe it would frighten Y/N. He certainly didn’t want to keep the girl awake any longer than she’d already been, but perhaps it would convince her that Draco had genuinely been scared earlier that day. He indeed had been afraid… afraid of his secret being revealed.

“Look, The Dark Lord is back, we can’t be-”

“Oh, so now you believe, Harry?” Y/N asked condescendingly.

“Would you shut it? Bloody hell, this isn’t about Potter,” Draco said while throwing his hands into the air. “This is about your safety. Our safety. Why don’t you understand that?” Irritation was visible in his eyes.

“You’re a liar,” Y/N said while sitting up in her bed, “A liar. Get out. I don’t want to see you anymore.”

Draco’s frustration dissipated instantly. “Love, I’m sorry I—”

“Get. Out,” Y/N said firmly. Her teeth were gritted, and her nostrils were flared. She was sick and tired of her boyfriend lying to her face. She gave him so many chances to come clean, and yet he didn’t; this hurt her deeply. He studied her face for a few moments, then realized she was dead serious. So he reluctantly got to his feet and gave her one last look before turning on his heel and walking away. When he left the room, he began to pace back and forth outside the doors. He didn’t want to leave. He was stroking his chin in deep thoughts when his strides were interrupted by a deep, slow voice calling his name.

 “Draco. Don’t you have... better things... to be doing at this hour?”

He looked up from his feet to see Professor Snape glaring at him. Draco scowled at him. He knew what the greasy-haired man was implying. “I’m taking care of it,” he replied.

“Is that so? Then you must have successfully repaired it, yes?”

Draco averted his eyes. Truthfully, he’d made progress on the vanishing cabinet, but nothing too promising. He’d been able to get an apple to and from the Room of Requirement and Borgin and Burkes. But when he sent a bird through it, it hadn’t come back alive. “Not quite, but I’m getting closer. I just need more time.”

Snape’s frowning expression remained the same. “Well, I suggest you focus more on fixing it rather than wasting time on such silly attempts. The Headmaster isn’t a fool, unlike you. He would never have been stupid enough to touch that necklace.”

Draco turned his head slightly away from Snape. He knew he was right. Dumbledore was an intelligent wizard; he likely wouldn’t have been fooled by the cursed necklace. But Draco thought it had been worth a shot. It was clear now that it had most certainly not been worth it.

“Focus on the task at hand. Fix the cabinet. If you don’t, I’ll be stepping in,” Snape said in a stern tone. Draco still couldn’t bring himself to look at him, so the professor walked away, leaving the blonde boy to his jumbled thoughts.

After a long couple of minutes, Draco decided that Snape was right. He needed to concentrate on the cabinet. There was no time to spend worrying about what lie to tell his girlfriend next; The Dark Lord had chosen him. And he could not fail him.

Draco straightened his spine and readjusted his suit jacket. And then he was off to the Room of Requirement.

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

Y/N didn’t make an effort to find Draco the next morning. Although, she had expected him to be outside the Hospital Wing when she exited. But he was nowhere to be seen. Her first thought was that she was too harsh with him. Then she remembered that he’d been blatantly lying to her for weeks now. She needed to be blunt with him last night. He needed to understand that she was upset and wouldn’t give him the benefit of the doubt anymore.

Y/N had hardly gotten any sleep. Her mind was too cluttered with thoughts of Katie Bell. What the hell had cursed her yesterday? And why was Draco so eager to flee the scene once he saw her shoot into the sky? Y/N didn’t want to believe her own suspicions, but perhaps Draco had had something to do with it. It was the only logical answer she could think of. And while she didn’t doubt Draco cared for her safety, she knew that wasn’t the real reason he ran off with her in his arms.

Suddenly, she missed being in those arms. Draco hadn’t been the same boy she fell in love with in a long time. He was so gloomy, the bags under his eyes were still prominent. And as of late, he’d been becoming more and more secretive. None of this sat well with Y/N. Not at all.

When she arrived at the Great Hall for breakfast, she located her boyfriend straight away. He was at their usual spot, picking at some scrambled eggs. She sighed and walked over to him and sat down gently. Not a single word flew from his chapped lips.

“I thought you would’ve been waiting for me outside the Hospital Wing,” Y/N stated while she cut into a loaf of bread. “Did something happen?” she questioned, keeping her tone light and nonaccusatory. Draco scoffed. “Figured you wouldn’t want to see me,” he said in a passive-aggressive tone.

“Don’t start that shit, Draco. I’m trying to be nice even though you’ve been lying to my face for how long now? Too long. We’re in a relationship, and relationships don’t work when someone consistently lies. So unless you want to lose me,” Draco’s head whipped towards her like lightning, her words struck fear into his heart, “I’d come clean.”

Draco masked his fear with a hearty laugh. “Yeah, right. You wouldn’t.”

“Honestly, Draco, at this point, I would. I’m sick of this rubbish. Why are you suddenly so afraid to tell me stuff? You were never apprehensive about confiding in me until now. I know something has happened, Draco. It’s so blatantly bothering you. Let me take some of the weight off your shoulders—”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Nothing has happened. I’m fine, alright? Can we just stop talking about all this nonsense?” Draco asked. His fists were clenched tightly on top of the table. He was desperately trying to control his raging emotions. 

Y/N couldn’t believe he was still trying to keep secrets, but she decided to give him one more chance. “What is going on?” she asked while reaching out to put her hand on his left arm, trying to comfort him. But once her fingertips had brushed his sleeve, he yanked himself away from her aggressively.

“Don’t touch me,” he said quickly, getting to his feet. Y/N felt her heart clench. She knew she’d struck some kind of nerve. But she made no move to stand up; she only watched as Draco turned to leave. Except, he didn’t. He was frozen in place. Y/N curiously followed his gaze to see Harry talking to Katie Bell. She threw one leg over the bench, wanting to see if she could join the conversation. However, her plans were interrupted when suddenly, Draco stumbled backward and began to flee the Great Hall. Harry didn’t wait a beat; he chased after the Slytherin.

Y/N stuffed a piece of toast in her mouth, quickly clambered to her feet, and rushed after the boys. She momentarily got caught in a hoard of people who were flowing into the Great Hall, but when she was able to weave through them, she caught sight of Harry running up the stairs. The Gryffindor knew it would be best to keep a distance behind Harry, as to remain undetected. 

She waited until Harry had reached the top step, then she climbed up after him. At the peak of the concrete stairs, Y/N saw Harry turn a corner. So she followed after him, but when she too rounded the corner, she pressed herself against the wall and watched silently as Harry nearly ran down the hallway. Why the hell was Harry even chasing Draco anyway?

Y/N knew there was no time to waste. When Harry was out of sight, she scurried off after him. However, while she was running, Peeves, the naughty school poltergeist, appeared in front of her, a mischievous smile plastered to his face.

“Where you off to?” he asked in a playful tone as he floated in front of her.

“Peeves, not now,” Y/N said irritatedly and out of breath. Harry was getting farther and farther away by the second.

“I have a riddle, I do. I have a riddle for you,” he said. His voice was high pitched and squeaky. It sounded a bit like nails on a chalkboard to Y/N. She ran her hand through her hair and said, “Peeves, fuck off,” as she walked straight through the ghost. He was not happy about this, and he let that be known to the entire school by letting out an ear-splitting screech. Y/N groaned and whipped out her wand. “Silencio!” she said while forcefully waving her wand towards the poltergeist. He was instantly rendered speechless by her spell. Y/N smiled and ran off; she knew she’d pay for that one later.

When she caught up to where she’d last seen Harry, all she found was an empty hallway. She took a moment to calm her erratic breathing and stood still. After a few moments, she heard a loud crack and then little clangs. They sounded like glass crashing to the floor. Her stomach churned at the thought of what could be going on. She ran down the corridor, trying to listen for more noises that would lead her to where the boys were. Upon hearing another crash, she realized they were in the bathroom. Y/N felt adrenaline rush through her body. Her head was pulsing as her heart was working diligently to pump blood. “Please let him be okay,” she muttered.

“Sectumsempra!” a voice yelled. It was followed by a loud thump that seemed to echo through the hall. Y/N didn’t recognize the spell, but she did know that voice. She burst into the flooding bathroom and looked around, panicked. Tears sprang to her eyes when she saw him. Draco was lying on the bathroom tiles, blood seeping through his white shirt. Harry stood nearby; he was frozen in place. He looked frightened by his own actions.

Y/N didn’t wait a moment more; she ran to Draco’s side and fell to her knees. She took his face into her shaky hands. “You’re okay, you’re gonna be okay. I’m here,” she said softly. Draco didn’t reply; he just continued to sob. Y/N turned to Harry. “What did you do to him?” she asked angrily. Harry didn’t respond. “WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM, HARRY?!” she screamed. But Harry remained silent, so she turned back to her boyfriend, his head still in her hands.

“I’m sorry, Draco. I’m so sorry, I should’ve just trusted you, I should have just forgiven you,” Y/N said through her tears and hiccups. She knew that any adult who could heal Draco was likely too far away. She didn’t want to risk leaving him and coming back to find him dead. So she slid down onto her side and laid next to him. Slowly and gently, she nestled her head into the crook of his neck. Her clothes were now drenched, but that didn’t bother her in the slightest. She wanted to be near to Draco. She wanted to hold him. 

Her attention was stolen when she heard footsteps splash in the pool of water on the bathroom floor. She looked over her shoulder to see Professor Snape. Her heart skipped a beat. “Professor, please, he’s bleeding out!” she called to him as she sat up. Snape silently rushed to Draco’s side but stopped to give Harry a long and knowing look. Harry gulped and fled the scene. This piqued Y/N’s interest, but now was not the time to wonder why Snape had glared at Harry that way. “Professor…” she pleaded.

Snape’s head whipped towards her, “Move,” he commanded. Y/N jumped to her feet and scooted away from Draco. Snape knelt over Draco’s body and took out his wand. Slowly, he held it above Draco’s body and murmured a healing spell while moving his wand left and right. The bloodstains began to fade as Draco’s lacerations started to close. Y/N let out an enormous breath of relief when she saw color return to her lover’s pale face. 

Snape finished healing and tucked away his wand. He then reached underneath Draco to lift him up. Once the boy was settled in his arms, he strode out of the bathroom without a word to Y/N. Despite Snape making no indication she should follow, Y/N ran through the water to catch up with her potions professor. 

After rushing through the corridors, they arrived at the Hospital Wing, where Madam Pomfrey was surprised to see Snape carrying a student. He laid Draco on an empty bed and told the matron in a hushed voice what had happened to the blonde boy. Draco’s eyes were closed, and his chest was rising and falling slowly as his body started to recover. Y/N took a seat next to his bed, just as he had done for her less than twenty-four hours ago. Her tears hadn’t stopped falling since the moment she saw him on the washroom floor. The skin around her eyes was red and raw from her repeated rubbing. Y/N grabbed his hand and held it firmly in both her palms. She rubbed her thumb over his skin and slowly raised it to her lips, pressing a delicate kiss to his fingers. 

Even though Y/N was looking at Draco and could see he was breathing, she still felt panicked. “He’s okay now, right? You’ve saved him?” she asked the two adults who were still whispering to one another. The pair shifted their eyes to her. Madam Pomfrey smiled and nodded while Snape's expression remained stoic. He gave his thanks to Madam Pomfrey and left the room. The matron walked over to Y/N. 

“I need to tend to his wounds Miss Y/L/N if you could step away for just a moment,” she said. Y/N stood up from her chair and moved out of Madam Pomfrey’s way. She closed the curtain around the hospital bed, shielding Y/N’s view of her boyfriend. Y/N nervously began to pace back and forth, finally having time to process what just happened. Why did Harry use such a violent spell? If Snape hadn’t shown up, Draco would’ve likely died on that bathroom floor. Had that been Harry’s intent? What were they even fighting for? Y/N thought to herself. After rapidly theorizing different answers to her questions, she concluded she wouldn’t be able to figure out this puzzle until Draco recovered. Perhaps he’d finally come clean. She’d make him come clean, she decided.

Just then, the curtain was pulled back, and there was Draco, awake. Y/N slowly approached his bedside; tears welled up in her eyes all over again. He offered her a soft smile and slightly raised his hand to say hello. She let out a strangled sob and reached out her hands to cradle his face. Gently, she pulled him close and gave him a tender kiss. Draco kissed her back and rested his hand on her waist. When they pulled away, he gazed into her sad eyes. “I’m here, love. I’m okay. There’s no need to cry.” This only caused more teardrops to fall. Y/N tried to stifle her sobs, not wanting to wake up any other patients. “Draco, you almost d..died. You almost died on the floor, I…I was lying next to you, and if Snape hadn’t come in when he did, y-you would’ve d-died in my arms.”

Draco didn't utter a word. He merely scooted over in his bed and patted the new spot next to him. Y/N rubbed her eyes and climbed up onto the hospital cot. She buried herself into his side and gently wrapped her arms around his lower torso, trying not to irritate his cuts. He laughed softly. “I’m healed, darling. Pomfrey said I’m staying the night, so Potter doesn’t come back to finish me off,” Draco said, a hint of anger laced in his tone. “Why did he do this to you, Draco? Is he what’s been bothering you? Do I need to talk to him?” Y/N asked. She was incredibly angry at Harry, and Draco had just reminded her of this. 

Draco stared at her. He could see the anguish and inner turmoil she was going through. He felt guilt pang in his chest when he realized he was the cause of it. He never wanted her to be hurting because of him; he only wanted to keep her safe. Keep her oblivious. But it seemed as though that was no longer an option. He couldn’t bear to lie to her again. He had to come clean.

“Potter did this to me because... he knows I cursed Katie Bell,” Draco said flat out. Y/N’s eyes widened to twice their original size. “You what?! Draco, what do you mean you cursed—”

Draco hurriedly put his hand over his girlfriend’s mouth. “Shh! Someone could hear you,” he whispered. “We can talk about this more in the morning, alright? We can’t discuss this here, but I promise you, Y/N. I promise you I’ll tell you what’s been going on. Just not here,” he said firmly.

“You’ll tell me everything?” she asked, her eyes shined with newfound hope. 

Draco nodded. “Everything.”

-----------

The couple sat across from each other, each on top of random objects within the Room of Requirement. Y/N’s hands rested, overtop her lips as she took in everything Draco had just told her. Several minutes of silence passed. “Love...please say something,” Draco pleaded. Y/N straightened her back and inhaled sharply. Her eyes flickered to Draco’s. “So you mean to tell me that you’re a death eater because of your dad and you inadvertently cursed Katie because you were actually trying to kill Dumbledore because you-know-who told you to? And you’ve also been sneaking off so you can fix a cabinet that’ll allow other death eaters to get inside Hogwarts?” she asked, the words flying out of her mouth at lightning speed.

Draco rubbed his neck and stared at his feet. He waited a few beats before replying, “Yes.” Stillness overtook the vast room. Neither teenager uttered a word. Y/N was too deep in her thoughts, and Draco was anxiously awaiting her next sentence. He was so worried that his confession would drive Y/N away from him for good. Even though that would be a good thing for her safety, Draco knew it would break him in the long run. 

“Can I see it?” Y/N asked quietly. Draco recognized the fear in her voice almost instantaneously. But regardless, he nodded and stood up. Y/N paused but stood up as well. Apprehensively, Draco grasped the end of his sleeve and slowly rolled it up to reveal his dark mark. He felt his entire body clench with fear. Draco's eyes were glued to his girlfriend’s face, searching for some kind of indication as to what she was feeling. But her eyes were empty as she gazed at the permanent image on his arm. Slowly, she outstretched her hand and placed her fingertips on the skull embedded in his skin. Her touch caused a shudder to run up Draco’s spine. He felt uncomfortable that a soul as pure as Y/N’s was touching something so inherently dark and evil. 

“Does it hurt?” she asked while removing her hand and shifting her gaze to Draco’s face. He began to roll his sleeve back down. “Sometimes,” he mumbled.

Y/N could see the nervousness on her boyfriend’s face. She knew he was scared of how she’d react to his confession, so she decided to give him some reassurance. “Draco, look at me,” she ordered gently. He tilted his head up to make eye contact with Y/N. She continued, “I love you. I love you so much. I know you, and I know you’ve just dug yourself in too deep. You didn’t realize what you were getting into. I mean, how could you?” she asked. 

Draco nodded, a tear escaping his eye. “I only wanted to impress him. I wanted to make him proud of me. Hell, I wanted to make The Dark Lord proud. But I can’t do it, Y/N, I can’t.” Draco was full-on crying now. His shoulders rose and fell violently as sobs overtook him. “Wanted to impress who, love?” Y/N asked softly as she took her lover into her arms. “My father, he—” Draco couldn’t finish his sentence; his tears were too uncontrollable.

Y/N felt her eyes begin to well up with her own tears as she placed her hand on his nape. She gently stroked him, trying to soothe him. Draco removed his hands from his face and wrapped them around Y/N tightly, wanting to hold her. She was providing him comfort, but he knew that this couldn’t be easy for Y/N either. So he hugged her. And for a long time... that was all they did. They held one another and cried with one another. Neither knew what to say or what to think. Neither knew what the next step should be, but at that moment, they knew they would take that step together. And for now, that was enough.

Taglist (link to request form here)

@jud3cardan

[hopeymchope]

Godzilla Singular Point

I came into Singular Point with some trepidation because Godzilla’s history in anime is both very recent and extremely bad. The three anime movies released between 2017 and 2019 are easily the worst work of famed writer Gen Urobuchi and honestly contain more bullshit than I can even get into here. Those movies and this series were both Godzilla anime properties commissioned by Netflix, which didn’t get my hopes up very much. Thankfully, Singular Point is a very different beast from the anime trilogy. One could argue it’s very different from most Godzilla media, actually — at least from my perspective. And I’m still a pretty entry-level fan of Toho’s Big G, all things considered.

Let me just warn you right up front: This smartphone-based virtual assistant is basically the breakout star of the series. 

When you think “Godzilla,” you probably don’t think “incredibly dense sci-fi concepts,” but with the big G’s first-ever anime series, the writers clearly set out to change that perception. Before the first kaiju even appears, the lead characters are plucked from obscurity and dropped into a mystery that involves fourth-dimensional time travel, physical objects that look different from all sides, theoretical math concepts, self-propagating A.I., and a whole lot more. And it’s NEVER made clear how all of it connects to the rampaging kaiju! Although we spend a lot of time investigating a red dust or sand that is very obviously tied to the monsters in SOME way, no one ever makes a connection that explains the relationship. Maybe we’re supposed to wait for a later season to connect the threads... but let’s get into the idea of “another season” later.

I like to think of myself as someone who typically enjoys hard sci-fi, but even with the characters spending loads of time trying to explain the high concepts driving the story, I was never able to fully wrap my head around what was going on in the mystery at the center of GSP. I rewound and rewatched a few explanations, but I still walked away feeling lost. I eventually settled on some vague, loose understandings of most of the ideas mentioned, but those understandings were subject to being ripped apart in subsequent scenes when I was shown or told something completely at odds with what I thought I knew. I can’t say I was ever bored with the thick, dense scientific concepts on offer — trying to find purchase with these far-out ideas kept me glued to the screen — but damn, I sure wish I was able to comprehend them.

What do we want?! DENSE SCIENTIFIC DISCUSSION AND DEBATE! When do we want it?! AFTER THOROUGH RESEARCH, TESTING, AND PEER REVIEW!

Another weird thing about this show is that the lead characters remain in separate locations and on separate tracks for the entire duration. We have Yun — a mechanical engineer and programmer who has an amazing grasp on physics and human behavior. And we have Mei — a grad student who is deeply invested in theoretical science, UMAs, cryptids and other far-flung concepts. Both of them are basically geniuses in their fields, and even though they take opposing views of just how flexible reality is, their shared ability to think “outside the box” becomes the crucial component in solving the mystery at the core of the series. Because they don’t even know one another (despite being separated by like, ONE degree), they only ever interact via text messages and behind screen names, which feels pretty damn weird. At least  I immediately liked both of them, with Yun being the standout to me because of how his lowkey reactions to crazy shit generates a lot of humor.

This soundtrack cover LIES; you will never see these characters in a room together like this. 

Alas, we don’t get to know the characters a whole lot beyond what we learned of them in the first two episodes. It’s not long before they’re trapped in a series of complicated exposition dumps, endlessly attempting to explain the high concepts of the show to other characters as well as my dumb ass in the audience. The fact that I liked them in the first couple of episodes carried me through more than half of the show, but I was always hoping to see them share more of themselves or just display more emotion. Anime as a medium excels at emotional storytelling. But despite the major, world-altering events the characters are constantly warning us about, none of them seem to have many emotions about said events. 

Further complicating matters is how, when major events finally occur in this show, they are often kept off-screen. One character shockingly dies, but the portrayal of that death is so piss-poor that I didn’t even realize it’d happened until someone mentioned their death in the next episode. After that vague death, I was particularly sensitive to anything that looked like it might possibly be lethal. Yet a later event that is played up as a tragic, fatal occurrence ends up... fine, somehow? It’s not clear how the character survives, because — even after one of our heroes is left screaming their name in despair as they seemingly die — nobody ever talks about or explains how he’s just fine a couple of scenes later. And near the end of the series, there’s a major transformation that occurs for one of the characters, and we never see it happen nor do we understand HOW it happened. It’s just that suddenly, this character is extremely different due to off-screen reasons that are only vaguely verbalized.

I guess these two really bonded at some point for some reason? And what you are seeing here is literally the height of emotion shown in the entire show.

Even though the overarching story of the series so far pretty clearly wraps up in episode 13, we then get a post-credits tease for a potential second season. So the question becomes: Would I watch that?

Well... Godzilla Singular Point is a series with a lot of issues that kept me at arms’ length from it — tons of extremely confusing dialogue, highly frustrating choices in direction that lead to baffling storytelling, characters who are mostly exposition-dumping — and yet there’s still some foundational work here that I appreciated a lot. When the action occurs, it’s pretty cool/fun. And when urban destruction occurs, it can be awe-inspiring. The human characters, though little-explored, have likable and interesting foundations to them that could be expanded upon. And I didn’t even mention the soundtrack, which features a variety of musical styles combined with the classic Ifukube theme music and an OP that is an absolute banger. (I have a weakness when it comes to music; a good soundtrack can carry me through even the blandest series sometimes.) Even the core idea of centering a Godzilla series around hard science and mathematical concepts is a compelling one, I think! I just hated the execution of it; they went waaaaay too far on poorly explaining incredibly complex, mind-bending concepts for my pea brain to handle it. They spend so much time trying to explain things, yet somehow they never succeeded for me. 

Ultimately, I’d probably give the show another chance. But if I do give another season a chance, it’ll be on probation. I wouldn’t watch the entire season unless I could see within four episodes that they’d definitely improved things.

Would I recommend that anyone watch the series as it currently stands? I mean... not really? I guess if you really dig complex math, hard theoretical science, and/or Toho’s stable of monsters, then maaaaaaaaaaybe give it a shot. But otherwise? Naaaahh. It’s not good enough at anything to make it stand out from the anime crowd. I didn’t hate it like I hated the Godzilla anime films, but Singular Point is still something that both casual viewers and most fans can comfortably ignore for the time being. It’s not a complete disaster, and it’s not without its highlights... but it’s definitely disappointing in my opinion.

OKAYOKAYOKAY, so let’s talk about the kaiju for a bit! 

Below will be SPOILERS revealing all of the kaiju that appear in Godzilla Singular Point and giving my feelings on them. 

Godzilla — It’s interesting to see a version of Godzilla that borrows some ideas from Shin Godzilla. Shin G has been incredibly unique until now, but this Godzilla manages to fold some of Shin’s distinctive aspects in with the more classic/typical versions to build a fun new depiction. Be forewarned that Godzilla doesn’t show up until the series is halfway over, and he doesn’t get a ton of screen time, either. He’s used quite sparingly and kept in hazy settings, often framed from the neck-up when they show him. It’s a little frustrating that they felt the need to shroud him so much, but I respect the fact that whenever Godzilla is shown, the destruction he causes is on a scale far beyond anything that the rest of the kaiju ever do. He is pure devastation. 

Rodan — He’s easily the biological kaiju with the most screen time in Singular Point. Rodan is first introduced as one gigantic pterosaur, but if you’ve seen ANY trailers for this show then you already know that his depiction transitions into an asston of smaller pterosaurs, all of whom are also called “Rodan.” (Apparently the word Rodan is both singular and plural, like the word “buffalo.”) Although he looks kind of cool at first, pretty soon Rodan showing up isn’t special or threatening anymore. Rodan appearances go from “a big goddamn deal” to “some bland background noise” before the series is even 1/3 finished. The design might be a little too far removed from the original for my own taste, but even if I didn’t think that, I wouldn’t be able to care for this Rodan simply because he’s rendered so unimportant and unimpressive.

If you go out in the woods today, you’re sure of a big surprise... 

Anguirus — Now check this guy out! Anguirus gets one of the coolest fights in the show and also demonstrates some powers that are well beyond anything we’ve seen him do before. Because he sticks to unpopulated areas, we never see him do much damage to Japan, but he is definitely holding all the attention when he’s on-screen. He’s a highlight for me — a total badass who is very unique in his abilities. And the stated origin for his name is goddamn adorable.

Manda — Yup, Manda is in this series... but I don’t have much to say for him. It seems like the creators of the anime didn’t have much to say about him either. His role amounts to little more than a repeated cameo, and in most of those cameos you only ever see his tail. When we finally see his full body, it’s done so briefly and kept at a distance, leaving me with no real impression. I had to look up his design online and... yup, that sure looks like Manda. Final score: MEEEEHH.

Kumonga — I definitely did not see this appearance coming! Kumonga is much smaller here than you may be used to, but she gets to star in the most suspenseful sequence in the series and easily earns the most exciting cliffhanger moment at the end of an episode. I was utterly glued to the show during her screen time, which comes with a lot of icky twists. Good ones! I honestly like Kumonga here more than I ever have previously.

NEW PHONE WHO DIS

Salunga — Uh, who? This is the one monster that isn’t based on a classic Toho kaiju but instead is a brand-new creation. I suppose that everybody who touches the Toho Kaiju franchise wants to make their own mark on it in some regard. But a big part of the fun of this series for me personally was the anticipation of seeing new interpretations and designs of classic Toho monsters. And so, given that he kind of resembles both Baragon and Gabara, I never stopped wishing they’d just used one of those guys as the basis and namesake. Taken on his own, however? He’s... pretty neat. Not unique or exciting, but solidly above par.  He resembles a cross between a lizard/dinosaur and an ape, plus his head has some nifty coloration. 

Our Jaguar!

Jet Jaguar — I guess Jet Jaguar isn’t exactly a kaiju in the traditional sense because he’s a Giant Robot. However, if you want to consider him one, then I wager he probably gets even more screen time than Rodan! We meet him almost immediately when the series begins. Initially an odd pilot-driven robot that was constructed at the whim of a quirky old factory-owner with too much disposable income, Jet Jaguar grows and changes over the course of the show, ultimately undergoing a transition in episode 7 that makes him pretty damn impossible to dislike. In fact, I utterly adored him by then. This is definitely the best Jet Jaguar I’ve ever seen. His design is recognizably similar to the original yet utterly distinct, too. Like many of the other kaiju here, he’s not nearly as big as he was when he was first introduced to the movies, but his size is ideal for battling the smaller-scale monsters that we spend most of the series on.

[jokertrap-ran]

[Drama CD]   AGF’19  Uta No Prince Sama: Sweets Vampire ~Key towards your heart~ Side: Kotobuki Reiji

Company: Broccoli CV: Morikubo Shoutaro ( 森久保 祥太郎 )

*Commissioned by @utapriciation, Thank you! *Spoiler free: Translations under cut

Commissions are still open!

A place where only the chosen can tread upon; a forbidden mansion. The enthralling scent of sweet chocolate and freshly baked confectioneries drifts in the air, enticing and ensnaring the poor souls that dare step foot into the mansion.

And sleeping within the tightly enclosed chocolate coffins…

Were none other than Vampires. Eternal, immortal, immaculate and seeking love forevermore. The only things that can awaken these slumbering being are a secret key and your sweet, delicious love.

And that key, is proof that you’ve entered a contract with one of the dwelling vampires in the mansion. Such an innocent and pure love you bring; so much power. Thus, the vampire will wait upon you. In exchange for the immense power they gain in return.

Now…

Use that burning passion of yours to melt these glacial icy hearts that never beat…

For a sought after, never-ending, immortally eternal love. I wonder if you know how long I’ve waited for such a moment to come. You’re the main character from the moment that key landed in your hand.

Sweets Vampire: Key to melt your heart

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ༻ ✩ ༺ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Mnngh…? Just a little...Let me sleep for a while more. Let me slumber till later in the da- no, I suppose it should be early in the day now. I’ve been up writing all day long. It’s still early in the night so I can still have the excuse of laying back a little easier, right? Besides, I don’t think it’s ethical for you to be coming all the way here without informing anyone beforehand. Even I have conveniences to meet, despite how I look, I’m actually quite the busy person.

There’s no need for you to apologize that much. Everyone makes mistakes. How about this then; My head hurts from the lack of sleep so could you rub it gently for me? Treat it as an apology of sorts, if you have to.

Is this the first time you’re meeting a vampire? You don’t have to be that terrified. Look, see? I’m not that different from a human now, am I? How nice. You might have a knack for massaging heads. There; you’re finally smiling. That suits you much better. Here, come closer so that you’ll be able to reach better with your massage. Heh, caught you. See? I lied about my head hurting. I mean, look. I’m a vampire, so there’s no way I could ever be suffering from sleep deprivation. I’m dead, after all. See? My heart doesn’t beat now, does it? You already know that and you want me to release my hold on you? Nope. I wish to stay close to you for a bit longer.

Yeah. Huh, I can’t believe this excuse actually works. Your innocence and naiveness is an attractive feature in and off itself but this means that you’re an easy target for trickery...and that’s not very good...I’ll be very worried in the future so I’ll educate you well. You can’t ever go onto a guy’s bed as unguarded as you are now, okay? Because someone like you will only be gobbled right up. Just joking~ Did you think I’d actually kiss you on the lips? I’m a gentleman so I’ll settle for doing it on your forehead. Well, I can understand why you’d fall for that though. I used to be an actor in the past. So this means that I’ve yet to lose my acting prowess. Hm? You want to hear more about my past? Wow, you’re really brimming with curiosity when it comes to me, huh.

Sure. I’ll tell you everything; until you eventually get bored of it.

Just like I told you before, I was an actor before I became a vampire. I was part of a theatrical troupe, writing stories to entertain the folks and those of higher class. Stories about affection and love were the hot favourites. Things like gossip, maybe. I’m sharp, so I pick up on these things easily. Plus, there’s no end to it on the streets so I had plenty of references to work with. However, somewhere along the way, I felt an emptiness in my heart. I write to support myself, so I have to be aware of what the recruiters would want to see. I’d write what they’d want and not what I, myself, wanted. So I was troubled for quite a while, thinking if the works I made were actually things that I personally wanted to write. And then came a genius, who eventually became my rival while I was still conflicting with myself. I was in a hurry, panicking about the new rival. So I made a story, one with a hint of spice, based off a real incident. Something different from the rest of my works up till now. Something taboo. And then...Somebody poisoned me. Alas, that’s how I came to be standing here right now. I guess I dug my own grave since I used the story of someone else as a stepping stone to elevate myself from the masses in a fit of wild panic.

While I might have used unorthodox methods back then, I learnt one thing from that fatal experience of mine. Vampires aren’t the scary ones in the world; it’s humans that you have to be afraid of. Because just a little of anything, a small misstep; and they’d kill you off without batting an eyelid. But!! That might be what makes humans so alluring. All that power they hold in their hands, one that can end another’s life despite what a small minute existence they are. Now, I wonder how far that story has traveled after my death. Perhaps it may be still alive, moving around the streets through word of mouth. Maybe more popular, now that I’m no longer a part of the living. I guess that might just be what amounts to the stage equipment in a play since the world’s just like one gigantic stage in my eyes.

Who killed me? Was it me? Was it a Sparrow? Or was it someone, who noticed me and eventually grew to despise me? Now, here’s a story. You can only count how many there might be that arises. This story is one where people who have died turn into vampires and are revived as such. Those who still hold onto the strings of feelings so strong that they’re able to return to the land of the living. Different, but amongst them. And now, with how I am right now! I can write and research anything I wish, freely. I’ve been writing, just as I have been before I died. It’s a life that I could only dream of before. And what colours my life now...That’d be Tokiya and Syo. They were turned into vampires way after me, but they’re an interesting duo, those two. Tokiya was a doctor before he turned. A genius, researching immortality. If he lived a little longer...his research might have been stolen by others. But I don’t know what happened now that he’s firmly out of the picture. Syo’s his friend. He’s still as bright and honest as ever, despite having turned. Now, if only I was like that. I’d probably be going down a different path in life and I probably wouldn’t have been poisoned to death either.

In exchange for pulling a few strings here to allow them to live in this manor, they exchanged their life stories for a roof over their heads. And now I’m free to use their stories to make my own. Although it’s a little hard to swallow because you’re writing stories about how pitiful the lives of others are. Tokiya even brought up how he wasn’t such a chatterbox. And Syo got mad real quick and yelled about how I shouldn’t be writing him off as a midget.

Although I personally think that’s only but the truth, but that might be why they’re in denial in the end. It’s still a happy incident, though. Freedom after death. Everyone can enjoy the stories of anybody to their heart’s content with no fear of any drawbacks whatsoever. 

Ah...Sorry, this conversation went on a little longer than expected. Let’s end the small talk here and get to the real topic at hand. What I actually want to talk about right now is our story. This new story of ours that is about to unfold. It might be too early, but how about one of love and romance with a little flair of the dramatic? It’s up to you to decide how this story turns out in the end. With you as the master and how this romance with the underling blooms. How about we start it off like this? It was love at first sight. Me, the underling who’s subjugated under the master, wakes up to see a cute, lovely girl. And she wasn’t just cute but she was innocent as well. Those bright sparkling eyes that’d look at me as she’d hear everything that I have to say. The owner of a beautiful heart. I wonder how I can make someone so lovely fall for me. Even though I want to treasure you and treat you as the treasure you’re supposed to me, there’s a part of me, somewhere within. Something greedy and ugly that wants to take you all for myself. Even though I’m normally smooth around others, I just don’t know what to do with myself when I’m around you. I’m no good, aren’t I?

That’s not the case at all? Really? No lying. You just, can’t. Even if you’re trying to be nice. Haha. You don’t have to deny so vehemently, I get it. I know fully well that you mean it. Besides, the sound of my heartbeat is drowning out everything else when you gaze at me like that. You’re just as lovely and nice as I thought you were. I can never win against something like that. Even if I try to shy away, you’d just open more doors into more possibilities. Heh, that’s right. I can’t just be hiding and running away from everything. I have to throw away this veil of lies and deceit and show you the real me that’s hiding behind this facade that I created. That’s right, I’m not the one that needs this veil right now. Perhaps you’re the one that requires it most. This veil, set atop your head, whit and flowy. And then a profession of love that’s not far behind. Ah, yes. The end of this story will be nothing short of a happy ending. Clapping’s forbidden, though. How strange for me to be this muddled when it comes to you. So much that my mind blanks out and I can’t think of anything else. I never knew that it was such a wonderful feeling to be able to trust someone from the very bottom of my heart like this.

I think the final and last part of this story has already been set in stone. And so, the duo shared a hot passionate kiss and lived on happily forever. Now, here’s the kiss to seal it all. I love you.

[venuscommissions]

heyooo  guys  !    so ,   last four months were literal hell for most people worldwide,  me  &  my  family  included !    shit  sucked  balls ,  but  thankfully  i’m  proud to  announce  that  we’re  slowly  but  surely  getting  back on our feet .  a  lot  of  you  were  genuinely  concerned ,  &  i  received  a  ton  of  asks  inquiring  about  my  well-being &  sending  words of  encouragement /  hope  /  well wishes my  way ...   which  even  though  i  wasn’t  in  the  right  frame  of  mind  to  answer back then,  they  still warmed  my  heart  &  gave   me  some  much  needed  strength.   since ,  many  asks  are  asking  similar things,  i  thought  it  best  to  make  one  faq  sorta  post  rather than  answering  each  individually  and  clogging  people’s  dashboards.  

so,  basically  a  lotta  third  world   bullshit  happened,  food  stuff,  medical  stuff,  etc.  as  my  government  implemented a  very  strict  ( read :  brutal )  lockdown  that  lasted  more  than  three months.  i  don’t  want  to  get  into,  because  many  people  have had  troubling  times recently  &  i’d  rather  not  make anyone upset /  sad  or  even  trigger  them  in  any way.  Know  this  though, after  few  months  of  me  trying  to  just  survive  &  not  fucking  starve,   one  of  the  main  reasons  of my not being active or doing anything  was  my  laptop  constantly  breaking  down,   the  issue  with  it  being  very  simple, my  ram slot had  some  carbon  gunk  on  it, but  alas.  the  first  time  it  crashed in the beginning  of  may,  the call center got me doing some tests on the phone via keyboard keys ( because laptop wasn’t opening. )  &  they  diagnosed that  the  issue  was  that my  ram  needed to be replaced.  & since  i wasn’t an essential worker ( i.e government or hospital  worker ) they weren’t allowed to give me priority service or machine parts.  it took them a month for them to ship the ram to my cities service center & to get a guy to my house to put it in. &  when he did, the guy was either  so  overworked or stupid enough that he didn’t notice that there was some carbon gunk inside the ram slot & not just on the old ram chip. my laptop worked fine for some days, but crashed again. this time around, they once again put me on a waiting list, &  it took the guy almost three weeks to come back around.  this time though he finally fixed it, &  i was able to start working again.  so ,  yeah,  i’m  ok  now  guys,  mostly lol ...  but  it  really meant  a lot  to  me that  you  guys  cared  enough  to  ask !

no,  i’m  not  opening  commissions  right  away,  hopefully  by  the  end  of  this  month  though.   if  you  do  wanna  commission  me  though,  &  wanna  be  the  first  ones  I  inform  when  i  do  open,   SEND  ME  A  MESSAGE  ON  THIS  TEMPORARY  SIDEBLOG :  @vc-neworders .    please  mention  what  you  are  planning  to  order  &  for  which  character,  etc. 

yes,  even  though  my  laptop  was  fixed  at  the  end of  june,  &  i’ve  been  working  nonstop,  i’ve  only  been  able  to  finish  half  of  my  pending  orders.  this  is  partly  due  to  me  having  1500+  ims  about  stuff like  psd recommendation &  other  general  questions  that  people ask  commissioners  in  my  i.m. chat  box  that  have  accumulated  during  my  four  month  absence &  i’m  having  trouble  finding pending orders as  i  have to deal with each chat  one at a time & the shitty little chat box refreshes after every  message i send. & also partly because this weeks  of  monday  was  a  deadline  for  a  ton  of  term  end assignments  &  essays  that  i was supposed  to have done over the summer but couldn’t because  no  laptop.  IF YOU  HAVE  A  PENDING  ORDER  THOUGH,  PLEASE  SEND  ME  A  NEW  MESSAGE.  this  will help me find our  chat  &  subsequently  your  order  &  finish  it.  you  will also  be  gifted  various  freebies  from  my  side  as  an   apology for  the  huge  delay &  for  being  so  patient  &  understanding during  these  shitty  times.  

firstly,  let  me  say  how  touched  i  was  that  so  many  people  wanted  to  know  if  their  was  anyway  they  could  help  me,  it  made  me  all  melty  inside omg.   and  since  i  still won’t  be  able  to  open  commissions  for  a  bit,  it  is  a  very  good  question  lol....   so,  here’s  how  you  can  help  support  me  till  i’m  able   to  open  commissions  :  

BUY  PSDs ,  ETC.  FROM  MY  DEVIANTART  SHOP !    all  the  stuff  available  can  also  be  bought  via  PAYPAL ,  just  DM  me .     

ALSO ,  THESE  SALE  DISCOUNTS  ARE  STILL AVAILABLE  UNTIL  I  SAY  OTHERWISE !

BECOME  A PATREON !   this  month  i’m  offering  two  exclusive  psds  for  the  price  of  one,  to  celebrate  me  surviving  the  world  almost  ending.                THIS  MONTHS  PSD  PREVIEWS !  

BUY  ME  A  KO-FI !

ONCE  AGAIN ,   thank  you  so  much  for  bearing  with  me,  being  patient  with  me  &  for just  sending  me  some  love  when  i  needed  it  the  most !