#toys from 80's

[mintypin]

Just got this ponies yesterday!

[skara-skoot]

my mom introduced me to her favorite childhood show and i was compelled to draw Rainbow Brite and the Color Kids lol

[bunnymajo]

>*Finds out Surge's bike is most likely a recolor of Sega's "Hang-On" arcade bikes from the 80s*

>*wants a toy version immediately*

>a model kit exists

>it's from 2015 and is over $180 to find second hand

[youngerfrankenstein]

One of the most mortifying things about watching Transformers G1 is that in amongst the terrible puns meant to make 6 year olds laugh there will be the odd joke that genuinely makes me chuckle. 😔

[mrdrhenwardhykle]

You didn't have the full experience of having your social media/pop culture manipulated and set for you if you don't recognize either of these men/hj

[deadwardianpoltergeist]

the gender euphoria in a hawaiian shirt not just because it’s socially masculine but because it’s colourful and campy within the fact that it’s masculine, the way you can wear it open over another shirt, not because it makes you warmer or cooler but because it just is another bizarre accessory, the way it has a small pocket that would be used to hold pens despite it usually being the type of shirt you’d expect someone’s dad to wear at a beach, using said pocket to hold a small kids toy who peeks up over the edge and brings the right people joy because it’s stupid and tacky and whimsical and FUN!!!!!

[teddybeartoji]

film professor!toji, who always wears dark colored slacks and a button-up shirt, alongside with a tie loosely hanging around his neck and a pair of glasses that keep sliding down his nose. the watch on his wrist is always the same one, a relatively chunky silver one that surely can only look normal on a man his size. 

sometimes he rolls up his sleeves, sometimes he unbuttons a few buttons of his shirt; sometimes he ditches the tie entirely and goes for a less sophisticated look. the material wrapped around his biceps looks like it’s about to tear open whenever he folds his arms over his chest and his pants aren’t doing any better, his thick thighs are just bulging out whenever he decides to lean his ass against his desk. and he’s confident, he’s cocky. he looks tired as fuck and his hair is more often than not a complete mess, but needless to say, he always looks very, very good. 

film professor!toji, who’s got a habit of fidgeting with his pens. he’s either simply toying with them in his hands as he introduces the next film you’ll be watching or he’s got one between his teeth as he watches you guys do your presentations. and he usually tucks the thing behind his ear when he’s done playing with it. 

film professor!toji, who’s constantly throwing his legs on top of his desk when he’s listening to the class or when he’s showing you something from the projector. with his hands behind his head, he leans so far back in his chair that it has all of you placing bets on how long he’ll manage to hold that pose before he falls. he never does. 

film professor!toji, who’s an absolute sucker for films from the 80’s. indiana jones, alien, blade runner, scarface, evil dead etc etc – you name it, he’s seen it. has multiple big posters of said films in his classroom too btw. he’s not actually picky though, he’ll watch just about anything because well, why not. he’s not really pretentious either, though he will tease you if you claim a ‘silly’ film as your favourite but he won’t put you down for it. he’ll push you a bit, asking questions to test how sure you are of your answer and then just proceeds to watch you defend yourself with a long ramble with a sly little grin on his lips. that’s what he wants to see after all – that his students love films, no matter what kind. 

film professor!toji, who knows a lot of random facts about the most random films and is not afraid to very casually blurt them out during his classes. some of them are very informative and then some of them are rather questionable, leaning more towards a piece of gossip if anything else. but it’s not like anybody’s complaining.

film professor!toji, who asks what you guys have watched since your last class with him at the beginning of every single class. doesn’t spend an entire hour on this topic but it’s always a certified fifteen minute break from the actual studying because he thinks it’s important for his students to talk about films. to talk about what you saw – if you noticed any peculiarities or mistakes, whether you liked the thing or not. and he always listens; he sips his coffee with his pencil stuck behind his ear, and then proceeds to ask very specific questions. he seems to have seen, or at least to know, every single film ever made and it’s kind of ridiculous(ly hot).

film professor!toji, who's still somehow not entirely used to people calling him 'sir'. mr. fushiguro is what he usually prefers but the 'sir' still pops up every so often and it always catches him so off-guard that it takes him a second to realize that he's the sir.

film professor!toji, who rants in front of the whole class about how much it sucks to watch movies from your teeny tiny laptops. he’s a cinema guy, through and through. and of course, he understands if it’s like a money thing because well, it’s not the least expensive thing to do on a weekly basis but he just tries to emphasize how much better it is to watch things on the big screen. he urges all of you to always take the opportunity when it comes along. 

film professor!toji, who fucking hates grading any sort of papers. he just despises it. he huffs and puffs behind his desk with his head in his hands, contemplating whether this is the right job for him or not (he will never quit). 

film professor!toji, who mostly hangs out with his buddy down the hall, the loud-mouthed history teacher with pink hair. they go on smoke breaks together, laughing together over some stupid answer they saw on a test. 

film professor!toji, who throws his head back with an exasperated sigh every time he spots the white-haired physics professor staring into the hall from the small window on the door with a stupidly big grin on his face.

film professor!toji, who’s schedule falls just in line with the sly literature professor and his brother, the freaky philosophy professor. toji refuses to sit next to the latter, he finds him too off-putting. but with mr. geto – they like to drink their morning coffees together in silence in their own little corner, and it’s surprisingly comfortable. sometimes they talk about films as well, but they almost always end up bickering like some old people because their tastes do not align at all.

film professor!toji, who doesn’t miss the way some of the students seem to swoon over him – he finds it very amusing. he doesn’t really see the appeal, he thinks he’s way too old anyway.

film professor!toji, who’s eyes do seem to linger on you just a little longer than they do on others though. who does a very subtle double-take whenever you enter the room and who steals glances at you when he sees you in the halls. it’s not like he’d ever try anything, of course – that’d be incredibly inappropriate. you’ but he sure does think you’re pretty, there’s no denying of that… 

[kai-uh-arcadian]

Firsts

synopsis: a collection of the firsts you have with Aeri <3

cw: it's purely fluff until the end and it's a bit... steamy hehe, fingering, brat! aeri, begging, finger sucking, nipple play, tension(?), if theres anything else please lmk!

word count: 6.5k

notes! hi my loves I hope you enjoy this! It's (lowkey) a continuation of Project: Aeri but I guess you don't have to read it for this to make sense... but you should! It's my first time ever writing smut so pls be kind hehe

lmk how you feel about this if you'd like and if you wanna chat my dms/asks are always open!

ps. the pics are supposed to be from each first hehehe and also also also did anyone catch the 3 sunflowers meaning?? :0

xoxo love youuu

also s/o to my BAE @wintersera thank you for the ideas for the smut (;

First date 

After everything that had happened that night, you two remained in touch and saw each other quite often. The tension between you was clear, lingering in every glance, every playful tease. There was an unspoken fact but both of you had been too nervous to make the first move.

Until now.

After weeks of mutual pining, you finally decided it was time to take the initiative. You couldn’t wait any longer—you wanted her to be yours, officially (of course).

With slightly shaky hands, you clicked on her contact and pressed the call option, your heart racing as you held the phone to your ear– which was new because calling wasn’t foreign for you two.

“Uh, hello?” Aeri’s sweet voice rang through the line, smooth and familiar.

You cleared your throat, trying to keep your nerves in check. “Hey Aeri, you busy tonight? I, uh... wanted to ask you something”

There was a playful pause on the other end before she giggled. “Hmm... depends. What’s up?”

Your heart raced. “I wanna take you out on a date,” you blurted, a little more direct than you intended.

“Did you call me just to ask me on a date?” she laughed, her voice teasing, followed by a playful sigh. “How old are you, 80?” she teased, obviously enjoying your nervousness.

You rolled your eyes, trying to stay composed despite your pounding heart. “Oh, whatever! Do you want to go on a date or not, Uchinaga?”

“Hmm...” she drew out the sound, clearly toying with you, her tone mischievous. “Let me check my schedule. I might be able to pencil you in...” She trailed off for a moment, and you could practically hear the smirk in her voice.

You couldn’t help but grin, even though she couldn’t see it. “You’re such a tease.”

After a brief pause, she broke the silence with a laugh. “Yes! I can, is there like a dress code for this date?”

Your smile widened, the weight in your chest releasing slightly.

“Hmm. just something casual and comfy,” you replied, already mentally planning out the evening. “I’ll pick you up at 6?”

“Not even gonna tell me where we’re going?” she asked, her voice curious.

“Nope!” you said with a teasing grin. “It’s a surprise”

She let out a dramatic sigh. “Fine fine~, I guess I’ll trust you”

With a satisfied sigh, you hung up the phone and immediately began scrambling around your apartment. You grabbed extra pillows and blankets, carefully folding them and setting them aside. Then, you packed your laptop and collected an assortment of snacks and sodas, wanting everything to be perfect for your date.

You made your way down the staircase to the parking lot where your car sat. You pushed down the back seats of your crossover SUV, trying to make the space into a makeshift bed. You arranged the pillows and blankets neatly, trying your best to make it perfect. After placing the snacks and laptop down by one of the pillows, you felt a huge wave of excitement hit you.

Today’s the day

When everything was set, you hopped into your car, but as you started driving, a thought hit you—something was missing. A date wasn’t complete without a little something extra. Smiling to yourself, you made a quick detour to a nearby flower shop, quickly browsing through the fresh bouquets. After a few moments of searching, your eyes landed on the three sunflowers—vibrant, bold, and full of warmth, just like Aeri.

With the small bunch carefully placed on the passenger seat, you felt a surge of excitement. You couldn’t wait to see her reaction.

Finally, you arrived at Aeri’s apartment, your nerves kicking in again as you approached. You quickly texted her a simple, I’m here, before grabbing the sunflowers beside you. But the moment you saw her stepping out of her building, all those nerves melted away.

Dressed in casual sweats and a simple tank top paired with a black jacket, Aeri still managed to take your breath away. Her casual look only made her more radiant, and for a moment, you were speechless.

You hopped out of the car, sunflowers in hand, quickly making your way around to open the door for her.

Her eyes lit up when she spotted the small bouquet. “Are these for me? How’d you know they were my favourite?” she asked, her voice light with surprise.

“Of course they are,” you said, smiling shyly as you handed her the sunflowers. “And honestly I didn’t, they just reminded me of you”

Aeri grinned, holding the bouquet close and inhaling their sweet fragrance. “You’re too sweet, Y/N, and a little cheesy” she teased, her eyes sparkling.

“You look beautiful, by the way” you added ignoring her stupid little comment, your voice coming out softer than expected as you took her in.

She flashed a grin, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Thanks, you don’t look too bad yourself, L/N,” she teased with a playful wink before stepping into the car, making you smile and roll your eyes.

Once you started driving, Aeri glanced over at you, interrupting the light music you had on, “Soo~ can I know where we’re going now, or are you just planning to kidnap me?” She chuckled.

“Damn. You caught me,” you teased back. “But if you keep talking, I might just reconsider and drop you back off.”

“Hey!” she laughed, lightly hitting your arm, and soon both of you were laughing.

“Okay, okay,” you said, not taking long to give in. “I’m taking you to this spot I used to go to when I wanted to relax or reflect on shit or whatever. It’s a pretty special place for me, and I wanted to share it with you… I even set up a little car picnic in the back.” Nervously rubbing the back of your neck before motioning towards the back seat

Aeri’s eyes lit up as she glanced behind her at the pillows and blankets you’d carefully arranged. “Y/N! That’s sooo cute!” she squealed, her excitement contagious as she reached over and gently rubbed your arm. “Thank you,” she added softly

“Yeah- Of course, Aeri,” you responded, your heart swelling at the way she looked at you

When you arrived, the sky was a breathtaking canvas of pinks and oranges, the sun slowly dipping below the horizon. You both made your way to the trunk of your car and you quickly connected your laptop to your hotspot while searching for a movie.

“And we’re watching a movie? You’re seriously the best,” Aeri said, her eyes lighting up as she took in the scene.

“Not just any movie... Deadpool!” you said with a grin, you remembered how it was her favorite movie.

“No way! Now you’re just spoiling me, n/n,” Aeri said, her cheeks dusted with a faint blush.

“Well yeah, nothing less for you Aeri,” you responded, feeling a little shy under her gaze.

The two of you settled into the makeshift bed, propped up against the pillows. Aeri’s head naturally found its place on your shoulder, and as much as you tried to focus on the movie, her familiar sweet scent made it impossible. You could feel her warmth, the weight of her resting against you, and your heart raced despite your best efforts to stay calm.

After a while, Aeri shifted slightly. “Can you lay down? My neck is hurting,” 

You blinked at her, not quite processing what she meant at first.

“Hm?”

“...So I can lay on you?” she clarified, her eyebrows furrowing with a smile

“Oh— duh, yeah, of course,” you stammered, feeling your face heat up. You shifted around, carefully placing one arm behind your head and the other around her, pulling her in slowly. She nestled into the crook of your arm like she belonged there, her body fitting perfectly against yours.

The top of her head rested under your chin, her warmth enveloping you, and everything about the moment felt just right—like it was meant to be.

“Your heart is beating so fast,” Aeri pointed out, still focused on the screen that was on your lap.

“Mm,” you mumbled, trying to play it cool and dismiss it, even though your stupid racing heart was betraying you.

A few moments later, Aeri commented again, her voice light with amusement. “Like, it’s really fast. I can barely hear the movie,” she giggled, propping herself up on one elbow. Her eyes gleamed with mischief as she looked at you. “What’s going on? Am I making you nervous or somethingg~?”

She raised an eyebrow, locking her gaze with yours, and suddenly, you were at a loss for words. The movie continued playing in the background, but you could hardly hear it over the pounding of your heart. You were completely lost in her eyes, your breath catching in your throat.

Before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out. “Will you.. be my girlfriend?” you finally managed to say, your voice soft, almost a whisper.

Her eyes widened in surprise before softening, something shy and tender was in her expression as she stared at you. For a moment, the playful air between you shifted..  To something serious.

“Is that.. Is that what you really want?” she asked, her voice sincere. There was a flicker of something in her eyes—uncertainty? nervousness?—but it was quickly replaced by warmth.

“Well.. yeah…” you replied, your heart still pounding, feeling more vulnerable than you ever had before.

Aeri’s lips twitched into a smirk, her tone deadpan. “Then no.”

You blinked in surprise, your jaw dropping just as she burst into a fit of laughter.

You realized you had just walked right into her joke, you groaned. “Ahh~ you’re sooo mean,” you huffed, though you were fighting off a laugh of your own. “I take it back,” you added, dramatically turning your head away like a pouting child.

“Nonono~ Y/n~ Wait, I was kiddingggg~” she giggled, practically pouncing on you. Her hands gently grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks between her palms.

“Ask me againnn~” she teased, her voice soft and sing-song as she planted a sweet kiss on your cheek.

Your stomach flipped, but you were determined to keep up the bit. “Nope~,” you pouted again, causing her to giggle even more.

She began peppering your face with soft, feathery kisses. “Ask~ me~ again~” she sang between each word with a kiss while her laughter rang out with each peck.

“Okay, okay!” you finally surrendered, looking up at her with a tender smile. “Will you be my girlfriend?” you asked again, your voice warm and sincere.

“Duh!” Aeri squealed, she couldn’t contain herself as she leaned down, closing the distance between you. Her lips met yours in a deep and longing kiss as you snaked your arm around her waist. Everything in the moment was warm and soft, brimming with excitement. You could feel her seemingly melt into you with the way her hands gently cupped your face, pulling you closer like she’d been waiting for this moment for a long time. (You both were)

You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss—it felt like everything had finally fallen into place.

First I love you

Since getting together, your Friday nights through Sunday mornings were habitually spent at Aeri's apartment. This super early morning was just like the rest. The soft hues of the sunrise peeked through the small gap in her blackout curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. The light stirred both of you awake, but neither of you was quite ready to leave the warmth of the bed. Aeri shuffled lazily, her body repositioning itself into the familiar crook of your neck, her hand resting gently on your chest.

Half-awake, you instinctively wrapped your arms around her, pulling her close. Without thinking, you pressed a soft, sleepy kiss to her forehead before sinking back into the comfortable haze of sleep.

An hour (or so) had passed, though it felt like quick moments, before you began to stir again. Your movements awoke Aeri, her body shifting as her eyes fluttered open, still hazy with sleep.

“Mmm,” she muttered, her eyes half-closed as she stretched one arm out lazily, her body snuggling deeper into yours.

You took the opportunity to nuzzle your face into the crook of her neck, inhaling the familiar, comforting scent of her skin as she wrapped her arm around you tighter.

“Hi, baby~,” you rasped, your voice still thick with sleepiness, your warm breath grazing her neck.

“G’morning,” she replied, her voice equally soft as her hand absentmindedly stroked your hair near your temple.

“Did you sleep well?” you mumbled, your eyes still closed as your leg slid to intertwine with hers, pulling her (impossibly) closer.

“Mhm..~” she hummed, her lips brushing lightly against your forehead in a sleepy kiss, which you returned with a soft kiss to her neck causing her to shutter.

For a while, the two of you lay in a comfortable silence, tangled together in a mess beneath the sheets. You could feel Aeri’s warmth against you, and the steady rhythm of her breathing lulled you back into a peaceful daze.

But then Aeri shifted again, her body stretching out as she let out a soft, tired groan.

“Baby~” she cooed sweetly, “I’m hungry.”

You felt her looking down at you, but your arms were still tightly wrapped around her waist, unwilling to let her go. “Five more minutes?” you whined, your voice muffled as you buried your face in her chest.

She giggled softly, running her fingers through your hair. “Mmm... okay,” she relented, her voice filled with sweetness. She could never say no to you when you looked so adorable, all sleepy and cuddly.

Inevitably, you both fell back asleep, the soft warmth of the morning wrapping around you like a nice blanket. You weren’t sure how much time had passed when you awoke again (maybe 20 minutes), but this time  the bed was empty. The absence of Aeri’s warmth made you frown a little, and the quiet clattering from the kitchen telling you where she’d gone.

Groggily, you got up, tidied the bed a bit, and slipped on your house shoes. As you made your way to the kitchen, the smell of doenjang jjigae filled the air, instantly waking you up.

“Aeri~! What’s this?” you mumbled, your voice still heavy with sleep as you stretched, making your way toward her.

She turned toward you with a playful smirk. Dressed in nothing but an (your) oversized t-shirt and panties, she looked effortlessly gorgeous. “Oh, good morning to you too,” she teased. “Your bedhead looks cute.” She ruffled your hair a bit

You grinned lazily, stepping closer to her, grabbing her hand and placing a quick kiss to it. “Oh, I’m glad. I actually styled it just for you,” you quipped before leaning down to plant a quick ‘good morning’ kiss on her lips.

“Oh, really?” she laughed softly, turning back to the stove as if she hadn’t been affected, but you caught the slight blush dusting her cheeks.

“Mmm,” was all you could manage in reply, the smell of the food and the coziness of the morning settling in. You wandered off to turn on the TV, opening up Netflix to put on a drama in the background as you tidied up the apartment that (at this point)  felt just as much yours as hers.

As you sank into the couch, you asked, “Need any help?”

Aeri shook her head, her attention still focused on the stove. “Nope, I’ve got it! I wanted to make you breakfast today.”

You chuckled at her determination in her voice, letting her take charge, though you couldn’t help but watch her out of the corner of your eye.

After a bit, Aeri groaned out an exasperated “Fuck,” and you glanced up from your phone, concerned if she had hurt herself or something.

“What’s happened, baby?” you asked, turning your phone off and setting it aside.

“Oh nothing, I was gonna make you a coffee and myself some green tea, but I just realized I ran out of ocha last week and forgot I didn’t pick any up yesterday, ugh! Like I was supposed to” she huffed, clearly disappointed.

A lightbulb appeared above your head as you were reminded “Oh babe! Check in the freezer,” you said casually. “I noticed you were low a few days ago, so I stopped by the Japanese market on 5th Street and grabbed your favorite. Ahh~ My bad I totally forgot to tell you”

“Ahh see! This is why I love you! Thank you Y/n!” she said enthusiastically.

Aeri continued for a second, her hands still submerged in the water as she was washing the rice. 

You both froze.

Moments passed as you both processed what she had just said,

A teasing smile tugged at your lips as you made your way smoothly from the couch and you leaned against the counter. “You what me, Aeri?”

“Wait no wait!”

The color rose quickly to her cheeks, turning a shade of red you weren’t sure you had ever seen before. “N-nothing!” she stammered, her flustered voice almost a whisper.

You smirked, taking slow steps toward her. Flustered Aeri was a rare and delightful sight. “Mhm... right.”

As she tried to focus back on washing the rice, you snuck up behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist and pressing a teasing kiss to her neck. “Say it again,” you whispered against her skin, enjoying the way she tensed up slightly in response.

“Oh stop~,” she whined playfully, trying to shrink down, but you weren’t going to let her off the hook.

You turned off the water, spinning her around gently so she was facing you. Before she could protest, you lifted her onto the counter, stepping between her legs and placing your hands on her hips.

“I love you too, Aeri Uchinaga,” you said softly, leaning in until your lips were just inches from hers. “Now say it again.”

The kiss that followed was tender, her lips soft against yours as her arms wrapped around your neck, pulling you even closer. When you finally broke the kiss, her eyes met yours, sparkling with a mix of affection and shyness.

“I love you, Y/N L/N,” she repeated, her voice quieter but filled with sincerity.

You grinned, brushing your nose against hers playfully. “Your hands are wet, by the way” you teased.

“Shut up, don’t ruin the moment,” she laughed, wiping her soaking wet hands on the back of your shirt before pulling you back into another kiss.

First time

Finals were just around the corner, and two of your dumbass professors decided to have an exam a week before their scheduled finals.

So, it’s a week before your two exams, and two weeks before your scheduled finals, and you’re about to arrive at Aeri’s place—to study, of course. 

You arrive in a cutoff and sweats, your hair messily tied up, and your glasses on. Aeri couldn’t help but notice how hot you looked.

You smiled as soon as you saw her. “Hi, baby~,” you said, pulling her into a big hug and giving her a quick kiss. She smiled back, squeezing you tight for a second before letting go.

You made your way to your usual spot—the one you had officially claimed months ago. Normally, the comfort of Aeri’s apartment would ease any stress lingering from your day. But today felt different. As you sat down, a heavy sigh escaped your lips, and Aeri (also) couldn’t help but giggle quietly at how frazzled you looked.

Any other day, she’d take the chance to tease you, probably throwing in a playful jab about how cute you were when stressed. But today, she sensed you weren’t in the mood. Instead, Aeri focused on her own work, letting the comfortable silence between you settle in as you both fell into an easy rhythm, side by side. Despite the closeness, it felt like you were worlds apart—your mind tangled up in studying and exams, while Aeri’s gaze drifted over to you every now and then.

Without you noticing, she snapped a few sneaky photos of you as you sat there, brow furrowed in frustration, your lip caught between your teeth in the way it always did when you were deep in concentration. Aeri smiled softly to herself, finding the sight ‘sooo cute’ despite your obvious stress.

Aeri stood in the kitchen, humming softly as she worked on making a quick study break snack, her ears tuned into your rant as you sat at the table, laptop open, books spread out around you.

“I just don’t fucking understand why they’d schedule exams a week before finals week,” you huffed, fingers tapping rapidly on your keyboard, frantically searching the internet for a damn answer on your practice test. “It’s like they did this shit on purpose babe! Like they wanted me to suffer”

Aeri chuckled softly from the kitchen. “Oh yeah! I think I heard they had a meeting on ‘how to make your life terrible’ ” she teased, the playfulness in her voice catching your attention for just a moment.

You barely looked up from your laptop, rolling your eyes while you took your hair out of the bun and ran your fingers through your hair. You continued to vent before going back to your screen. Your eyes were back to being glued to the screen, fingers flying over the keys. “I don’t fucking doubt that, god I feel like like I’m on the brink of losing it if I don’t start retaining this bullshit anytime soon” you muttered.

Aeri’s footsteps padded softly across the kitchen as she finished garnishing the fried tteokboki, setting it down on the table where you were. “I don’t know how you do it,” she said casually, her tone light. “ Maybe you should take a break pretty...”

Your eyes flicked up briefly as you gave her a small, dismissive and tired smile. “I know..” you sighed “I just need to finish this and—”

“You look really hot when you’re focused, you know?” Aeri’s voice dropped slightly, the casual playfulness gone, replaced by something a little more mischievous.

Your fingers paused mid-type, your heart skipping a beat at her comment. “W-what?” you asked, turning your head to meet her gaze.

She smiled, but there was a flicker of something else in her eyes—something teasing, almost daring. “Almost makes me jealous of that assignment you’re paying so~ much attention to.”

You swallowed, her words slowly sinking in as the tension in the room shifted. “Aeri,” you started, your voice hesitant, but she was already moving closer to you.

She crossed the distance between you in a stride, her fingers brushing lightly against your shoulders as she stood behind you. Her touch was feather-light, but it sent a spark through you as her breasts pressed up against you. “I just can’t get over how good you look tonight,” she murmured, her breath warm against your ear. “Wonder what it would take to get you to pay that kind of attention to me..”

Her fingers traced a slow line down your arms, and you felt your heart race as her hands rested lightly on your shoulders, her thumbs making small circles against your skin. The warmth of her body behind you, the casual confidence in her voice—it was enough to make your mind go blank, the rant you’d been lost in completely forgotten.

“I... I,” you mumbled, but even you could hear how weak your nervous protest sounded.

“Mm,” Aeri hummed softly, interrupting your stuttering as she leaned in, her lips grazing close to your ear. “How ‘bout  just a little break? For me, baby?” she murmured, her fingers brushing your hair aside before placing a lingering kiss on your neck.

The warmth of her body so close to yours made the air feel thicker and heavier. Her hands shifted ever so slightly, sending a shiver up your spine. Your fingers hovered uselessly over the keyboard, your mind entirely abandoning your exams. All you could focus on was her, commanding your attention in a way that no textbook, no deadline, no nothing ever could.

“Ah~ fuck,” you sighed, leaning back into her touch, feeling the tension in your body ease. “I’m all yours,” you murmured, your voice breathy as you tilted your neck slightly, offering her more space.

“That’s my girl..”

She took full advantage, planting soft, lingering kisses from your neck up to your jawline before finally capturing your lips. Unable to resist, you pulled her around into your lap, and she straddled you, the closeness intensifying as both of you sank deeper into the kiss. Your hands instinctively found their way to her back, pressing her closer, while her fingers trailed up to your shoulders and tangled gently in your hair.

Slowly, your hands slid down to her lower back, pausing at the curve of her hips as you pulled her closer. She broke the kiss, her forehead pressing against yours, her breath coming in with shallow and needy gasps and you breathed them in. Her eyes were glazed with desire, a smirk playing at her lips.

“I need you, Y/n,” she whispered, her voice a mix of softness and urgency.

You looked at her, equally breathless, feeling every ounce of longing she held in her gaze. “Fuck~, I need you too,” you murmured in one breath before pulling her back in, your mouths meeting in a kiss that was all heat and intensity, tongues meeting halfway. Your hands roamed her back, tracing along her spine, and a shiver ran through you as her fingers grazed your skin, tugging at the hem of your shirt.

Without breaking contact, you hooked your arms under her legs, lifting her effortlessly as she wrapped her legs around your waist. You walked her down the hallway and managed to open her bedroom door with your foot, carrying her inside until her knees met the edge of the bed, where she let herself fall, pulling you down with her.

You caught yourself just before you landed, her arms still wrapped around your neck, keeping you inches from her lips. She giggled, her eyes dancing with mischief.

“Still wanna study?” she purred, her voice teasing.

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” you replied, a grin tugging at your lips as you leaned down to press soft, lingering kisses along her neck.

A soft moan escaped her lips as she tilted her head to give you better access. “That’s what I thought,” she murmured, her fingers weaving into your hair, holding you close.

“You’re so annoying,” you muttered playfully, pressing another kiss just below her jaw. Her eyes met yours, a gleam of challenge in them.

“And you like it,” she whispered, pulling you impossibly closer, her fingers tracing gentle patterns down your back.

You hummed in agreement, pressing your forehead against hers again. “Mhm,” you replied, voice low and filled with affection.

Your lips trailed down Aeri’s jaw, planting painfully slow kisses along her neck, each one drawing out a soft sigh from her. You could feel her hands gliding down your back.

Just as you were fully lost in her, her fingers moved lower, grazing along your inner thigh with feather-light touches that sent sparks up your spine and to your core. You let out a quiet gasp, which only made her smile even more, her eyes glinting with mischief.

She let out a teasing laugh as her fingers lingered at the inside of your thigh, not quite giving you what you wanted.

“Aeri…” you breathed out, the heat in your voice making her chuckle softly again.

But instead of moving her hand to where it should be, she slid it back up slowly, bringing it to rest just below your waist.

God she was teasing you

 As she did, you moved your hands up, slipping under her shirt to rest on her waist before slowly sliding higher. Your fingers found the soft curve of her perfect tits, and her breath hitched as your hands squeezed gently.

Her soft, breathy moans fueled you, and you pressed gentle kisses along her collarbone, slowly making your way to the curve of her chest, savoring the warmth of her skin beneath your lips. She arched under your touch, fingers threading through your hair, each sound she made, made you even wetter than you already were.

Letting out a soft sigh, you leaned in, brushing your lips across the peak of her soft perky nipple while using your warm breath to tease her with a smirk. Your free hand found its way to her other nipple, gently pinching it. The cadence of her breath quickened and  her hips began to slowly buck as if searching for some sort of release.

 A satisfied, desire-filled grin spread across your face as you watched your girlfriend unravel, her usually sleek black hair now a tangled mess against the silk pillowcase, her brows knitted in both frustration and neediness.

Aeri’s breaths deepened as your touch sent little shivers through her, her fingers curling around your shoulders, grounding herself against you. Your lips hovered just above her perfectly hard nipple, her skin flushed with anticipation.

“Please,” she whispered, voice barely audible. If you hadn’t been watching her so closely, you probably would have missed it.

You raised an eyebrow, teasing. “What was that, Aeri?”

She turned her head to the side, (trying to hide as much of herself as she could into the pillow), clearly flustered and embarrassed, before whispering again, “Please…”

Gently, you brought her chin forward, guiding her to look at you. “I can’t help you, baby.. if you don’t use your words. You didn’t seem to have any trouble being mouthy earlier, huh?” You shot her a playful and challenging look.

Her eyes fluttered open and her cheeks flushed even deeper, and she took a breath before meeting your gaze. “Please… suck on my… nipples’”

“That's my good girl” you gave her a smug grin before averting your attention to her chest.

You (finally) insatiably wrapped your lips around her nipple which elicited a gaspy moan

“Fuck..”. Aeri’s head fell back, her nails digging into your shoulders as you continued savoring each bud, your attention fully on Aeri as her gasps filled the room. You smiled against her beautiful tits, feeling the heat radiating from them. Her fingers tangled through your hair even more, making you stay as close as possible as your kisses and gentle nibbles drew more and more breathy moans from her.

Letting one hand roam lower, you found her clit, tracing slow circles with your middle finger through the thin soaked fabric of her panties. Her body responded with each touch, soft and needy sighs slipping past her lips and she began to grind on your fingers needing more than what you were allowing her. You glanced up, catching her expression—a mixture of bliss and anticipation, her eyes half-lidded as she met your gaze with a dazed smile.

“Need something, princess?,” you murmured with a grin and an arrogant glint in your eye, trailing more kisses along her skin, taking your time. Each new touch, every small shift in pressure, had her melting beneath you and her pussy dripping for more.

Aeri secretly loved hated this. Where did this sudden surge of confidence in you come from? Wasn’t she supposed to be the one making you beg and pleading to touch her? Why did the fact that you have her completely under your control make you so fucking hot and her so turned on? UGH! The tables had turned and it was as exhilarating as it was maddening.

“N-no…” she managed, her voice shaky as she bit down on her lip in frustration, fighting to regain some sense of control.

Slowly, you lifted your hand from her now-ruined underwear. “Well, I could just stop here. I mean, I do have to study—

Her hand moved faster than lighting, gripping your wrist firmly, threatening to leave a mark. “Don’t you…fucking…dare,” she breathed 'threateningly', guiding your hand back to her pulsing clit as her hips jutted forward trying to meet you halfway.

“Or what?” You raised an eyebrow, stopping just shy of her needy pussy, knowing you had the upper hand this time. You fucking loved seeing her like this—Her playful bitchiness, unbreakable attitude, all crumbling away because you wouldn’t fuck her like the brat she is.

Suddenly, her bratty facade wavered, and her voice softened. “Please…” Tears threatened to spill as she whispered, arching herself toward your touch trying to find some sort of relief, her voice barely audible. “Mm-Please, I need you…need you to fuck me so bad…” She finally muttered out

You grinned, feeling the satisfaction of winning this round. “Anything you want, my pretty girl,” you said, savoring the way her eyes rolled back with need.

With a quick motion, you rid her of her drenched panties, and your finger began to trace gentle circles around her swollen clit, making her gasp. You ran your hand along her slit to wetten your finger with her juices, taking in each small reaction as her breath quickened, her voice slipping into load moans. Aeri was a complete moaning mess at this point and you haven’t even finished her off yet. Her hair was splayed out and droplets of drool ran down from her chin to her collarbone as her mouth was open.

You lifted her head gently with your free hand, making her meet your gaze. Slowly, you withdrew your long  finger from her wet slick, and before she could protest the missing feeling, you pressed it to her lips, your thumb brushing her chin.

 “Tell me how good you taste, baby,” you cooed, holding her gaze. She drew your finger into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it, ensuring every drop of herself was savored while tears spilled from the creases of her eyes while you fucked her throat with your finger.

With a soft pop, you pulled your finger back, using your thumb to brush the excess salina from her lips. “I taste…so fucking good,” she whispered, breathless, before pulling you in for a kiss, sharing the taste of her with you.

Your tongues danced together as your now lubricated finger found its way back down,  and you teased her entrance briefly before going deeper, making her let out a gasp against your mouth. 

You kept a steady rhythm, her moans mixing with the sound of your movements. Her head fell back, and she guided your mouth to her neck.

Aeri let out a loud moan into your ear, pausing a bit as your digit inched deeper and deeper inside her.

Once fully inside, “You okay?” You asked, your voice laced with genuine concern

“Mhm,” she winced with pleasure “More than okay”

You pulled her back in for a kiss as you continued to keep pumping into her, keeping a steady pace.

The noises from her dripping wet cunt and her loud moans filled her bedroom and she gently pushed your head from her neck/mouth towards her milky white breasts

“Please~ I need you to.. Suck on them” 

Well... Who were you to deny your beautiful girlfriend?

You took one of her perky nubs into your mouth, using your front teeth to slightly nibble on them, causing her to moan louder than before as you felt her tighten around your finger.

“Oh~ Y/n.. please.. Please don’t stop.. I’m so” her sentence was interrupted by another lewd moan as you finger hooked at the right angle, finding her G-spot

“Fuckfuckfuck baby! P-plea~” she let out, her hand digging her nails into the back of your neck and upper back (probably) drawing blood

You pulled your mouth away from her nipple, “Are you going to be my good girl and say my name when you cum?” You said, looking up at her

You noticed she gasped in shock as her nipple suddenly lost the warmth from your mouth, brows furrowing even more

Desperately she tried to push you back on to her nipple, she was so close to her high but needed your mouth so~ badly to reach it.

“Yesyes ah~ fuck baby! I’ll be your good girl and cum.. Ah~ just for you” She used her free hand. desperately rubbing her clit

Your name felt like sweet honey as it rolled off her tongue, you couldn’t help but insatiably pump faster in her. Her moans, the wet sounds from her dripping wet cunt, along with the thought of her screaming your name. You almost finished right then and there.

“Oh fuck, Y/n y/n y/n,” she screamed out like some sort of mantra, “I’m gon-”

“You gonna cum just for me?” You bit into her neck, sucking and marking her as yours while moaning right into her ear.

“Yesyesyes, I’m.. fuck~!  all yours Y/n~!” she yelped, she tightened around your fingers as her juices pooled into the palm of your hand and you gently slowed down the pace to ride her high as long as possible while she cried into your neck.

After a moment, She shuttered from her high and found herself in the crook of your neck for a bit, while both of you caught your breath for a second. She winced a bit as you removed your digit from her wetness and sucked it off quickly before wrapping your arms around her.

Another moment passed and a surge of embarrassment rushed through you as you realized her neighbors most definitely knew your name now. The sole thought of that  made your cheeks heat up.

Moments of silence passed of you both catching your breath, you finally calmed down and  gave her a soft kiss on the forehead before wrapping your arms around her fully. She sighed contentedly, her fingers tracing light, lazy patterns on your shoulder near your back.

In the quiet that followed, with both of you still laying there, you broke the silence. “Are you okay, baby?” you asked, your voice (still) breathless but full of tenderness as you looked down at her.

She nodded, smiling softly as she nuzzled closer. “More than okay,” she murmured, her voice laced with warmth. “Are you okay?

“Yeah” You gave her another kiss on the cheek “ I’m just.. A bit surprised” a sly smile crept on your lips

She looked up at you, sweat glistening off her skin while her hair stuck to her and raised a warning eyebrow as if she was thinking 'watch what you say', “mhm?”

“Ya know... for as mean as you are,  I never expected you to beg like that” you teased

“Oh, you shut the fuck up!” she laughed, giving your shoulder a playful smack, which only prompted you to wrap her up in your arms as a reflexive defense.

“I’m for sure putting you in your place tonight,” she murmured, her voice low and rich with desire as she pulled you in for a deep and needy kiss.

[theblacklewinsky]

Note: back with our favorite boo, Terry. It's my birthday, but I guess I can gift y'all with something lol! ❤️

Helpful Neighbors. | Aaron Pierre.

Toxic!Neighbor Terry Richmond x Black!Female Reader.

Warnings: MNDI!! this story is 18+ with depictions but not limited to; sexual content ( penetrat!on. toy play, water sports), extreme language (cursing, use of b-word and others.) slight daddy kink if you squint.

Summary: You confront your noisy neighbor about his loud late night company, he allows you to retaliate.

you fucking nasty,

first you cum and then you wipe it on my ass cheeks.

There wasn't much that you knew about your neighbor Terry. You knew he was generally friendly, you bringing him a small housewarming gift of a bath and bodywork's candle when he'd first moved in months prior. You knew he was a vet based on the marines sticker on the bumper of his pick up. You knew he was active, you often seen him heading out for camping trips, often seeing him in the apartments shared gym area when you'd take time out of your busy schedule to get a short work out in. You knew he was gorgeous, anybody could attest to that.

And he was loud. Very fucking loud.

And if you didn't know anything else, you knew that for sure.

The noise varied. Most nights he was particularly quiet, you wouldn't even have noticed anybody lived there if you hadn't seen him before. But some nights, he was a little loud. Metal music from an 80's band bled through the apartment walls, straight into your bedroom, you actually didn't mind it—being an exhausted charge nurse, the metal music did something for you, calming you in a strange way. Him seemingly fixing something, sometimes in the latest hours, drilling, hammering.

But it wasn't any of that. There wasn't any metal music. But he was sure drilling or hammering somebody. And she was extensively louder than anything you'd heard from Terry's apartment. You had to quickly grab your remote, muting your comfort show on your television to make sure she wasn't screaming blood murder.

It wasn't bloody murder, but she was screaming alright. You sighed, it was your first off day in two weeks of working straight in the trauma unit of the local hospital. It'd been a viscous stomach bug going around, and with the big panic from the prior pandemic, the hospital wasn't risking another one slipping up—so work was rough, and long.

But maybe you were bitter? It'd been way too long since you'd properly got your rocks off—not anything involving your beloved rose. So maybe you were just a bit bitter that at least somebody was getting theirs. Good for him! Just not on tonight. Not this night. You'd planned to crawl in bed, eat the most unhealthiest snacks in your cabinet and watch your comfort show, and maybe weep the prior two weeks out onto your pillow, you deserved a good cry after all, girl.

You sighed heavily, placing the pillow over your head letting out a groan. You'd definitely have to catch him in the morning and talk about this, cause this was outrageous.

Maybe sleep was out of the equation, but you'd definitely moved on to weeping.

The morning sprung and you jumped into action. Due to working 7AM to 7PM, you left out for work around the same time as a Terry did his morning runs. 6AM.

You woke up at 5:30 on a mission, brushing your teeth and doing your skincare and putting on your biggest t-shirt, sweatpants to match, oh you meant business.

You caught him as soon as he'd left his door, jogging the opposite way of your apartment toward the elevators before you called out to him. He turned confused at first until he noticed you, giving a lazy morning smile as he did. Black compression shirt, with the pair of black basketball shorts to match. He had no business being so damn fine. But you weren't deterred by that, last night was fucking atrocious.

"Goodmornin', beautiful," he smoothly recited like he did every morning. He was just nice like that. He said it every morning without fail, he always found something to compliment you on. New color of scrubs, how you decided to get your hair, even sweeter when he sees you out of your deliciously fitting scrubs.

"Good morning Terry," you smiled weakly, "I don't mean to disturb your routine, but can we talk for a minute?" You uneasily shifted your weight. You weren't good with confrontation, it just wasn't in your nature, but you didn't play about your sleep.

He nodded and you walked inside still holding the door open for him to signal him to follow you. He did, his smile faltering a bit once he came inside, you could tell he was confused a little thrown off.

You closed the door behind y'all, moving into your large kitchen area to pour yourself a mug of coffee. "Want some?" You politely asked him to which he politely rejected holding up his thermal water bottle.

You added your usual fixings to your coffee, taking a cautious sip, cradling your mug in your hand before you continued. "I don't mean to be confrontational when I say this," you walked around him heading into the living area, plopping on your newly purchased gray plush sectional, " but you were very ...loud last night." You chose your words, nicely.

He featured you a puzzling look, his finger gesturing to the comfortable chair adjacent to you, "of course." You quickly obliged before he took a seat, uneasily continuing. "Your lady...company, I meant." Sex talk wasn't your thing. Sex was sacred to talk about for you—and you didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable at all.

"Oh shit," he softly cursed, his expression filled with slight concern, "I'm sorry, I didn't realize we were bein' so loud, I hope we ain't keep you up."

"Oh, it's not a big deal," you quickly intercepted not wanting him to feel any type of way, "it's just my first day off in a couple of weeks so I just wanted to wind down with some quiet time and you guys were very...vocal," you chuckled to diffuse the awkwardness of the conversation, to which he added a light chuckle of his own, "at least somebodies getting their rocks off around here." You said jokingly before taking a sip of coffee. You hoped that didn't sound suggestive.

A short moment of silence followed your statement before you recognized Terry's eyes locked on something behind you for responding, "I see I ain't the only one gettin' mine," you furrowed your brows slowly turning your attention to where he was previously locked on. Your rose, sitting cleaned and comfortably on your end table.

You really had to learn to start putting shit back. 

Or maybe not.

Somehow you found yourself on your back, pinned to the couch, Terry folding you up in missionary, knees to your chest, rose to your clit as he gave you long, deep, torturing strokes. You couldn't even remember the quick and somehow satisfying foreplay you'd taken to get here—and you didn't even care anymore. You could feel the fat tip of his dick kissing your cervix, and as if you weren't loud enough, you got louder. How ironic? You could barely hear yourself think, or were you thinking at all?

"Mhm," he hummed, his face composed, nothing but his teeth lightly sunken into his bottom teeth as he drilled you in, finger tips of his thumb and pointer finger giving your right nipple light squeezes and tugs, he kept his eyes on you, even when they rolled back, quickly turning up the vibrator, "look at you, mama. Why you bein' so vocal? Why you bein' so fuckin' loud, baby?" He taunted.

"My god, Terry," you whined, breathless, he kept up, dick hitting that spot that made your toes curl. How was he so good at this shit? You understood her completely. It wasn't atrocious at all. Very understandable. Very justified.

"Yeah, baby?" He quirked his brow up, his own soft groans almost mocking yours. "You want her to hear you? She still next door, wake her ass up mama. She kept you up all night didn't she?" He asked tearing his fingers away from your nipples to slap firmly against your cheek prompting an answer from you.

"Yessss," you slurred out, throat raw from moaning and groaning. You'd say yes to anything he asked you in this moment. You'd adopt six German kids and live on a farm with him if he requested you to do so in this moment, the world was his oyster. He was digging you out so good, so deliciously good. He was getting more than your rocks off and you knew that when the pressure in the pit of your tummy came weighing down on your bladder. "Ooouuu fuck! Fuck I'm gonna—"

"Yeah," he chuckled, evil all evident in his tone, all in his smile as he glanced down to the mess unfolding between y'all, "wet this dick up baby, I feel that shit." He groaned, eyes zoning in on the creamy ring you were leaving around him. "Wet me up, and you better wake her ass up when you do."

"Cumming!" You abruptly announced nearly cutting him off from his lewd rant, the sounds of your own arousal clashing with his dick sent you tumbling over the edge, clear juices spurting out of you with so much force it ejected him out as well. It only prompted a more lazy laugh out of him, shaking the suction of the rose on your clit even faster. Trembling underneath him, your breath hitched in your throat as he sent you into complete overdrive, your voice was hoarse once a moan came tumbling out of you loud and broken. Why did you cum so hard from knowing that she was next door, possibly hearing you get your nut off with him?

"I like that shit, mama," he mumbled to you, turning the rose off slapping his free hand down on your clit, watching your body jerk in response. He said nothing dipping his body down momentarily to give your soft, sensitive nub three sloppy, mind numbing sucks. He was so loud and lewd with it, smacks loud, tongue slurping loudly. You were too turned on, too sensitive, but too fucked out to even object given how sensitive you were. He stood up on his knee once again, other floor planted flat on the ground. "Sticking up so pretty f'me and shit," he hummed, "put that ass in the air, I'm finna give her some more."

You whined, you were too tired to move. If this was sex? What the fuck were you having before? And he seemed to insatiable, how was he asking you for more when you already so tattered from your last orgasm?

"Can't," you weakly managed to get out.

He took the initiative to help you, his hands firmly grasping your hips and flipping you over roughly, bringing your hips up into the air, spreading out so nicely for him. He moaned in response, looking at how both your holes seemed to open for him. He slapped his massive hand against your ass cheek, the loud sound seemingly filling your quiet apartment, a high wince following behind it, his dick twitching at the recoil. "You gon be a good girl for daddy and hold this shit on your clit while I take care of you back here?" He asked you the dominating reference only furthering the throbbing in your pussy, one hand softly kneading the sting out from his slap. You could hear the quiet buzzing from behind you, head nodding eagerly as your hand reached from under you, making grabby motions for the toy.

Once it was in your possession, you placed it where he asked you, body lightly trembling since your clit hadn't had a moment long enough without stimulation. Both his large hands had been planted on your ass cheeks, spreading you apart for him. He groaned in response, spitting down onto your second hole winking for him so sweetly, you moaned in response to his lewd action. "Fuck yeah," he muttered sending another lighter slap to your ass. No further words were spoken as he grabbed his girthy member in his hands, fat tip rubbing softly against your slit before he stretched you open once again around him.

A loud whine erupted from you as soon as you felt him sliding into you, stretching you, the light sting providing the perfect pain to compliment the pleasure of him literally stuffing you. It was mind numbing for him, feeling you stretch and clench around him so perfectly, gummy, wet walls feeling so warm and snug around him. "Pussy so fuckin' good," he muttered not sure to who, you or him.

His strokes had already started off staggering; hard and deep. Pelvis slamming into your ass with loud, rippling sounds through your apartment, the force literally nudging your couch across the floor. You couldn't care about the scratches you knew were now engrained in your hardwood flooring, everything was so good. Too good.

"Fuckkkk!" You slurred out, eyes fluttering closed, face pressed against the plush cushions beneath you. Brainless wasn't the word for you. You were hyper focused on the pleasure you were receiving, the vibrations from the toy, Terry's back breaking strokes, and the sounds of your arousal around him didn't help the diagnosis. Your free hand held onto the top of the couch for a sense of stability. "Why—why you fuckin' me like this?!" You stammered out through a moan, voice hoarse and broken.

"What you mean, mama?" He asked through a groan, sending another rough slap to your ass. "You such a good girl, you deserve this dick. Workin' all hard and shit, always lookin' so fuckin' good." He grunted, working himself inside of you. Thumb tracing your asshole teasingly. "You deserve some good dick, baby."

The praise only heightened your moans, encouraging you to slam your ass back on him until you felt your own orgasm once again lurking around the corner.

"Show the fuck out, then, baby," he said breathlessly, stilling his own movements as he watched as you fucked yourself on his dick, ass slamming back onto his pelvis with dizzying recoil.

"Shiiiit! I'm finna cummmm!" You moaned out, your movements only increasing in pace, using him for your own pleasure now. And he ate that shit up.

"That's right, get that nut mama. Get yo' shit, fuck me," he affirmed through a series of groans accentuating your own, "fuck, I feel all that shit. Nasty ass bitch, get that nut." His dirty words filling your ears as you released around him, halting your movements. Squirting for the second time, the orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks literally. This one cramped your muscles as it temporarily paralyzed you, huge steaks of pleasure coursing through you. Terry didn't give you a moment to recover, his own climax brewing in the background. He resumed his strokes as if he never stopped, powerful, fast and hard. The rose clobbered to the floor with a hard thud, still buzzing away as your body flattened into the couch, Terry using his upper body strength to drop dick in you.

"You runnin?" He asked breathlessly through a series of overstimulating strokes to your pussy. "Why you runnin? Daddy, let you get yours right? Let daddy get his." He hummed to you.

You couldn't tell him you were overstimulated. Could you talk at all? Were you even breathing? What the fuck even was this?

"Dick got you goin' stupid, look at you," he groaned, dick hitting that spot again, and again. You came again, with announcement. You hadn't even known you were that close again. "Fuck, you keep cummin' on my dick."

Your voice came back to you in little squeals, nodding in agreement to his last statement.

"Pussy so good—I'm finna nut baby," his voice rushed and panicked as he kept up his strokes, "fuck I'm finna nut—shit!" He hurriedly pulled out of you, groans and grunts spilling from him earnestly as warm, ropes of cum painted your ass.

That was so unreal.

You focused on steadying yourself as you heard Terrys whispered curses behind you. It wasn't long before you heard his lazy chuckle, soft lips kissing down your spine causing a small chill to sneak through you. "You good?"

"Yes? I dunno," you answered bleakly, voice rasped out. Terry laughed gently, hands rubbing some warmth into your thighs and midsection.

"You enjoyed yourself?" He asked softly, kissing up to your neck, and shoulder tenderly. You nodded eagerly to his question, earning another chuckle for him. He sounded so good. "I'm glad, where towels at pretty girl. Lemme clean you up."

"Bathroom closet," you jammed your finger in the direction of the closet. You were halfway into a slumber when Terry came back with a warm towel, cleaning you up gently.

You knew for a fact it was gonna be a lot of noise coming from the both of your apartments.

-

still don't have a tag list together but I hope y'all enjoyed another toxic Terry fic 🫡 my favorite Terry after all! Happy Friday! 💗

[iwanthermidnightz]

When I was 24 I sat in a backstage dressing room in London, buzzing with anticipation. My backup singers and bandmates gathered around me in a scattered circle.Scissors emerged and I watched in the mirror as my locks of long curly hair fell in piles on the floor. There I was in my plaid button down shirt, grinning sheepishly as my tour mates and friends cheered on my haircut. This simple thing that everyone does. But I had a secret. For me. It was more than a change of hairstyle. When I was 24. I decided to completely reinvent myself.

How does a person reinvent herself, you ask? In any way I could think of. Musically, geographically, aesthetically, behaviorally, motivationally. And I did so joyfully. The curiosity I had felt the first murmurs of while making red had amplified into a pulsing heartbeat of restlessness in my bars. The risks I took when I toyed with pop sounds and sensibilities on red? I wanted to push it further. The sense of freedom I felt when traveling to big bustling cities? I wanted to live in one. The voices that had begun to shame me in new ways for dating like a normal young woman? I wanted to silence them.

You see, in the years preceding this, I had become the target of slut shaming, the intensity and relentlessness of which would be criticized and called out if it happened today. The jokes about my amount of boyfriends. The trivialization of my songwriting as if it were a predatory act of a boy crazy psychopath. The media co-signing of this narrative. I had to make it stop because it was starting to really hurt.

It became clear to me that for me there was no such thing as casual dating, or even having a male friend who you platonically hang out with. If I was seen with him, it was assumed I was sleeping with him. And so I swore off hanging out with guys, dating, flirting, or anything that could be weaponized against me by a culture that claimed to believe in liberating women but consistently treated me with the harsh moral codes of the Victorian era.

Being a consummate optimist, I assumed I could fix this if I simply changed my behavior. I swore off dating and decided to focus only on myself, my music, my growth. And my female friendships. If I only hung out with my female friends, people couldn't sensationalize or sexualize that, right? I would learn later on that people could and people would.

But none of that mattered then because I had a plan and I had a demeanor as trusting as a basket of golden retriever puppies. I had the keys to my own apartment in New York and I had new melodies bursting from my imagination. I had Max Martin and Shellback who were happy to help me explore this new sonic landscape I was enamored with. I had a new friend named Jack Antonoff who had made some cool tracks in his apartment. I had the idea that the album would be called 1989. And we would reference big 80's synths and write sky high choruses. I had sublime, inexplicable faith and I ran right toward it, in high heels and a crop top.

There was so much that I didn't know then, and looking back I see what a good thing that was. This time of my life was marked by right kind of naïveté, a hunger for adventure. And a sense of freedom I hadn't tasted before. It turns out that the cocktail of naïveté, hunger for adventure and freedom can lead to some nasty hangovers, metaphorically speaking. Of course everyone had something to say. But they always will. I learned lessons, paid prices, and tried to… don't say it don't say it. I'm sorry, I have to say it. Shake it off.

I’ll always be so incredibly grateful for how you loved and embraced this album. You, who followed my zig zag creative choices and cheered on my risks and experiments. You, who heard the wink and humor in "blank space" and maybe even empathized with the pain behind the satire. You, who saw the seeds of allyship and advocating for equality in "Welcome to New York". You, who knew that maybe a girl who surrounds herself with female friends in adulthood is making up for a lack of them in childhood (not starting a tyrannical hot girl cult). You, who saw that I reinvent myself for a million reasons, and that one of them is to try my very best to entertain you. You, who have had the grace to allow me the freedom to change.

I was born in 1989. Reinvented for the first time in 2014, and a part of me was reclaimed in 2023 with the re-release of this album I love so dearly.

Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine the magic you would sprinkle on my life for so long. This moment is a reflection of the woods we've wandered through and all this love between us still glowing in the darkest dark.

I present to you, with gratitude and wild wonder, my version of 1989.

It’s been waiting for you.

[ellzilla]

Be honest gang did I cook or did I burn. I think I lost the 80's toy vibe along the way but oh well. They're not copy+pasted from each other I def burnt the rat but it's okay

[sweetsweetjellybean]

A quiet evening in, having drinks with your boyfriend and his roommate leads to a tempting proposal.

Part 1 of 2? WC: 1367 TW: kissing, voyeurism, alcohol

Sugar and smoke cling to your tongue as a frozen fire burns in the back of your throat. Warmth spreads inside you, sending a shiver to your skin. Lip gloss coats the rim of the tall shot glass when you place it on the scarred coffee table next to the bell-shaped bottle. Your tongue collects the remnants from your lips as you lean back, melting into the lean chest of your boyfriend behind you.

“I don’t know how you two drink that stuff,” Steve grimaces, rotating the crystal tumbler full of whiskey in his hand. His other arm is wrapped around your waist, his big hand splayed high on your thigh, toying with the edge of your skirt where you sit with one leg tucked beneath the other.

The dim light from the lamp casts a golden hue through the living room, accentuating the haze of the evening. Eddie, sprawled out on your other side, smirks as he watches you. His dark eyes glint with amusement and something else—something that has your stomach clenching.

“‘Cuz it tastes like candy,” you explain, leaning forward to run your thumb over the plump bottom lip of the chocolate-eyed boy, brushing off a gold flake only to have the wet tip of his tongue peek out and chase your finger.

Steve’s skeptical snort vibrates against your back.

“It’s not so bad,” Eddie murmurs, voice low and steady, as his unwavering gaze holds yours. Your inhale is sharper than usual, and his eyes flicker away, dropping to the floor before searching the room.

"Don't listen to him." Steve's lips are warm on your ear. "He never drank that shit before I started bringing you home." He places a kiss on your temple before trailing his lips lower, tilting your head to find the spot that has your toes curling into the carpet.

A moan so soft it’s barely above a whisper finds its way past your lips. Eddie's gaze snaps back to you. His eyes flare as he smooths his palm down his jean-covered thigh.

Heat rises from your neck to your cheeks, not entirely due to Steve or the liquor. You clear your throat with a shallow breath. “Well, I like having someone to take shots with me.” Leaning forward, you reach for the bottle, dislodging Steve’s lips as you fill the two glasses to the brim.

You nudge the other glass toward Eddie, looking up at him from under your lashes. The way his stare follows your movements has a shy smile tugging at your lips.

A huff comes from behind you. “Not that we mind you third-wheeling it, Munson, but it might be nice if you had a date every once in a while,” Steve says, downing the rest of his glass.

When you first met the roommates at a bar on campus, it was Eddie who was the shameless flirt. But after a few weeks, it hadn't amounted to anything. So when Steve asked you out, it was an easy yes. A few months later, and Eddie still hasn't brought anyone home. Steve has mentioned a time or two that he still isn't over the last girl who broke his heart.

Eddie scoffs, rolling his eyes as he reaches for the glass. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll work on that,” he mutters, his fingers brushing yours briefly as he takes the shot.

“I’m serious man…”

A sour taste fills your mouth and you down your shot hoping the cinnamon will overpower its bitterness. 

“We were just talking about it the other day. It would be nice to see you with someone new. Instead of sitting around here shooting brooding looks at the plant.” Steve gestures at the potted fern you brought over a few weeks ago. 

“I don’t brood.” Eddie places his glass back on the table with a little more force than necessary. 

“Dude, you're like the poster child for 80’s rock ballads. Look, we just want to see you happy. Isn’t that right, angel?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, meeting his gaze, “I want you to be happy, Eddie.”

The look he gives you in return is heavier than you can hold. Your eyes lower to your hands twisting in your lap. “Isn’t there anyone you like?”

The air is trapped in your lungs while you wait for him to answer.

“No.” His reply is quiet but firm, making you swallow hard.

“Well, maybe it’s time to–” Steve makes a clicking sound with his tongue, “–Get back on the horse. Stop waiting on Miss Right and find Miss Right Now.”

“Yeah.” Eddie’s shoulders slump as his gaze drifts, “Maybe you’re right.”

“I know I am. We’ve all been there before. All you need is a little confidence boost,” Steve’s hand squeezes your thigh, “Maybe you can help him out, angel?”

Eddie’s mouth drops open as he sucks in a breath. Your head whips around, eyes impossibly wide as you stare at Steve.

“What?” Steve asks his face the picture of innocence. “Oh,” he says after a moment, the light in his eyes turning on. “I meant maybe you could introduce him to one of your friends.”

Your shoulders relax, but tension still simmers in your stomach. Eddie clears his head with a shake, a quiet chuckle escaping his throat as he reaches for the bottle.

“I mean unless you two were up for it,” Steve throws out, leaning closer.

Eddie freezes his knuckles turning white as he grips the bottle. 

“Steve!!” You react the way a nice girl should but shock doesn't explain the heat pooling low in your belly or the dampness in your underwear. 

“You told me you think he's‐” 

You muffle Steve's next words by slapping your hand over his mouth, but he pries your fingers off and turns to Eddie, “She thinks you're hot.”

“I said cute,” you correct, but the clarification doesn’t stop Eddie’s lashes from lowering bashfully or the rose blooming on his cheeks.

“Same thing,” Steve grips your chin, turning your face towards him. “And anyone with eyes can see how beautiful you are. I’ll never forget how damn lucky I am to have you.”

His mouth is an irreverent caress of lips and tongue that has your heart swelling. Your thumb traces the twin freckles on his cheek, his hazel eyes lit up with warmth for you that he's never attempted to hide.

“So let me get this straight,” Eddie's gravelly voice cuts through the moment. “You, Steve Harrington, are offering for me to make out with your girlfriend?”

“You're my best friend, dude. I trust you. Besides,” His index and middle finger run along the bare skin of your arm, raising goosebumps in their wake. “I've always liked to watch.”

“You've never told me that,” you can't hide the surprise in your voice.

“You never asked,” he replies with a wink. He searches your face as his fingers continue their journey, lightly tracing your collarbone, down the swell of your breast, and over the hard outline of your nipple. “There are so many things I want to do with you. We haven't even scratched the surface.”

In the span of a breath, you’re clutching at the front of his shirt, your lips crashing together in a way that’s only happened behind closed doors. One hand tangles in your hair, heavy breaths and the wet sounds of your mouths fill your ears. His other hand seems to be everywhere, leaving little fires under your skin.

Eyelids heavy, you follow his hands as he turns your jaw toward Eddie. “Look at him, angel. He wants you. Don’t you, Eddie?”

Eddie’s dark eyes are almost black, his pupils blown wide, a flush heating his skin. “Yes,” he admits, loosening his grip on the couch to run a hand through his hair. “Fuck.” He looks away, then his gaze locks with yours. “I do. I want you.”

The flames in you rise, chasing the butterflies into taking flight. Your breath catches, lips parting.

“It’s your decision,” Steve’s lips are at your ear. “You say no and it all stops. It’s over. Forgotten. Just say the word and we’ll give you anything you want.”

Eddie sits with tension pulling his shoulders tight, the muscles in his neck cording. His lip is caught between his teeth, his expression unguarded, eyes a silent plea, hoping not to regret his confession.

The solitary word crystallizes on your tongue, the sweetness of your drink turning it sticky, making it impossible to pass your lips.

The static charge freezes the air. Steve's fingers tease under the edge of your shirt, drawing circles on your hip. His question is soft but insistent. “So, angel, what’s it going to be?”

Thanks for reading! Let me know if you want a second part. Torn's chapters are just so big, I wanted a break with something short and sweet.

[thepinkdreamganjaqueen]

Run Rabbit

Homelander x Fem Reader 

Masterlist 🩷

Summary: Homelander spots you assisting first responders helping those less fortunate in a building fire. People he wouldn’t normally bother helping or even caring about. It’s just his job and a mundane and boring one at that. But you caught his eye. You selflessly cared for them, helping them. It disgusts him. HE needs your help! It makes him want to make you dirty, to spoil your spirit, to make you like him, and what the Homelander wants, he takes.

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, oral (m and f receiving), piv, unprotected sex, breeding, gaslighting, coercion, DUBCON, praise, begging, mentions of violence, stalking, swearing, obsession, D/S implications, mentions of death (implied), blood play, choking, kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome, dacryphilia, mommy issues (brief mention)… It’s homelander… 

A/N: My head Is so full of fuck! I had to get a Homelander fic out in the midst of all these fics I’m grinding on! This man, being of pure perfection, got me in a damn chokehold!! Why do we always tend to go for the guys that are walking red flags? Like, I can fix him! On a more serious note, these characters are all endearing in their own way. Trauma can manifest into some pretty terrible things, and I think we can all relate to that in some way or another. I tried to keep it short... that did not happen you know how it goes. Please, I hope y’all enjoy this one! And as always, I welcome, ideas, comments and criticisms, but please be nice. Cheeers! 

Word Count: 6.3k

Tags: fem!reader, smut, dark content 

RUN RABBIT 

He watched as you helped those around you. He had been for a while now, just out of view of the bustling crowds beginning to form and watch the commotion. He watched as you gave aid to those less fortunate. The vulnerable people you had pledged to help so long ago. It was your job and came naturally to you. He watched as the building continued to burn growing fiercer with each moment that passed. Fire reflected in his eyes with a look of discernment, perhaps even disgust, but all he could seem to focus on was you. He watched as you gave people solace and respite, watched as your hair clung to the sweat on your face from the heat of the flames, how your ample chest rose and fell as you breathed shakily, helping the local paramedics and EMT’s. You gathered supplies and handed out bottled water to those affected. A fire had broken out at the shelter. It was an old building, probably not up to date on fire regulations and things of that nature. It housed approximately 80 people that evening. You rushed about frantically helping in any way you could. A bleeding heart, he thought.  

He felt a mixture of abhorrence and lust. Something about the way you cared for those he considered beneath him. He couldn’t understand, his distaste for humanity growing every day. Yet, something about the way you cared for them, in a loving, and motherly way, so perfect. It stirred his loins and a deep longing simmered within him, a feeling he was quick to extinguish. He often had these troubled thoughts paired with erections. It was nothing new. Trauma manifesting into sexual desires as a coping mechanism. He hastily grabbed at his crotch, shifting his bulge within his suit.  

He was above it all anyway. Humans merely play things for him, entertainment. Like a fox chasing a rabbit, you became his prey. He would make you his new toy and break you. He wanted to make you dirty, to make you like him. He wanted to ruin you. He had to be methodical about this, but still, it would be easy, he thought. Conquests were never a challenge for him. He was handsome, had charm, and could put on a “friendly” demeanor if he needed to. Plus, he was a supe. If he couldn’t get a woman with his A lister status alone, he could simply force her to be with him. He would do what was necessary. He preferred little to no effort, but he couldn’t lie to himself. Sometimes, he liked the chase. Both literally and figuratively. He was like a predator. Cold, calculated. Run little rabbit, he’d think to himself. Seeing lesser beings and their pathetic attempts to escape him was his favorite kind of entertainment and maybe even gave him the feeling of joy. If only for a short time. He often found himself bored, tired of the mundane. Meetings at Vought HQ, Ashley up his ass, saving…. People. His disgust caused a visceral reaction. Tonight, he would find entertainment to chase that elusive high.  

He flew over, hovering then lowering himself as he outstretched his arms, palms down as if to quell the crowd’s murmurs and bestow peace. A façade, he couldn’t care less. He had ulterior motives. “Don’t worry, everyone, everything’s under control” he spoke. Sure, he initially showed up to do what The Homelander does… be a hero. But you caught his eye, something more interesting and surer to be more giving than the appreciation of his adoring fans and the thrill of an applauding crowd. He wanted the pleasure of seeing you beg for him. Soon. He thinks to himself with a mischievous look crossing his lips. He is staring at you as he lands. You thought he looked your way but couldn't be sure. He began that repetitive, mundane, and ever so grueling process of saving these pathetic souls. He darts in and out of the building, grabbing them one by one at a crawling pace ‘for him’. Everyone in the crowds cheered on as you watched this man help people.  

It was no unordinary feat truly. Supes were common, and Homelander was the most well-known. The leader of the seven, Americas hero. Nevertheless, you watched on as he effortlessly helped people get out safely. You caught yourself admiring his physique, he was essentially perfect. No wonder, you thought. It’s as if he was made to be perfect. His charismatic smile, striking blue eyes, chiseled jawline, and athletic build. You found yourself breathing heavier, face flushed, racy thoughts manifesting. You were still in that moment, watching how his suit would singe from the flames that brushed and flicked against him. Embers flew from the fabric and fizzled out, skin remaining untouched but revealed underneath. The glint of the gold eagle shoulder accents on his suit shined in the light of the raging fames that burst through every opening of the building, returning once more.  

The building erupted in what must have been a gas line explosion you thought. Homelander walked out through the flames with the last individual hurled over his shoulders. He sauntered over to your direction where you stood with a few EMTs who were supporting victims in a pop-up tent. Next to you, a bare stretcher. Homelander stopped next to you and dropped the smoking body onto the stretcher, eyes locking with yours as he did. He could hear your heartbeat quicken and your breathing go shallow. You were unsure if it was fear or excitement in this moment, he scared you in a way. You couldn't tell if he was disingenuous. Too many things were happening all at once, it was a state of high emotion and your head was spinning. You felt like you were helpless and had no control. He did though. He behaved as if this was nothing to him, as if he could do this one hundred times over. Of course he could, yet you could sense the arrogance behind his charismatic demeanor. 

You manage to speak in his presence. Something you had tried to do for several unending moments now under his gaze. “Thank you” you manage to mumble in a timid manner. You found it hard to maintain eye contact with him. He was so sure, so confident, and so… beautiful. You had never had the opportunity to be in the presence of a supe, let alone meet one. You had only seen them on TV, in the news, or in movies. Simmering in what you thought to be embarrassment or intimidation, you hastily make you way out of the tent, brushing by him as you passed. He watched over his shoulder as you disappeared behind him, feeling the warmth from you as you passed. He inhaled deeply as you walked away. You were so flustered but didn’t know why… You knew why, truly you did. It just didn’t make sense. You didn’t want it to make sense. You felt attraction to him, and you felt guilty for it for whatever reason. For many reasons. But mainly, you felt bad that in this moment, you felt lust and your attention drawn away from the people that needed your help the most. 

You made it behind the tent and had begun fidgeting with a worry stone you kept in your pocket. Rubbing it furiously when you hear the wet splat of steps behind you. You look down, the grounds wet; the fire fighters must be here, you think. A firm hand grabs your shoulder and spins you around. He looks at you matter of factly with a smirk. “You know, I wanted to tell you back there, thank you, for the work you do and for helping these fine people” he said, hand still on your shoulder. His eyes beaming into yours a deep sapphire. “I also wanted to let you know that there were some folks over there that could really use your help! That is, if you still want to help people.” He watched as shame crossed your face, then guilt and confusion. Easy, he thought. They’re so fucking easy! His smile, perfect white teeth gleaming at you. You recoil at his words, struck by how kind he sounded with the contrast of his delivery. You felt immediately inclined to help, like you didn’t have a choice but to prove it to yourself, and to him, for whatever reason. 

You nod your head in agreement, convinced by him you needed to. You feel a weight take over your entire body, pulling you down. Before you realize you were being flown away from the scene. The Homelander had picked you up and shot towards the sky. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, holding you against his body. Terror filled you, but you were too high up to scream, the force of wind hindering your speech and breathing as it forcefully blew past your face. What did you agree to? You think. Where is he taking me? As quickly as the thoughts came to fruition, you were on your feet once more. He was looking down at you, still clinging tightly to your lower back. His face is indifferent and uncaring, almost empty. The suit he wore felt ridged where flames made contact. Soft in some places where the fabric was still intact and cool, where his skin peeked through. Your arms still grasped his biceps until you became aware you were doing so and let go. You wondered how he felt under the suit. He’s invincible, is his skin like that of a rock, or is he soft and pliable. He caught you gazing at the areas where his suit had melted away. He watched as you admired him. He knew the thoughts running through your head. He could see them cross your face. He was amused. That mixture of lust, exhilaration, and fear. He craved that from you, and you were abundantly insatiable. 

“Just through there.” He gestured kindly toward a door as he let go of your waist. You took a second to observe your surroundings, still fearful of what exactly you were doing and where the hell you were. For an educated girl, you felt like this was a really stupid decision. You were standing on a white tiled balcony about fifty, maybe sixty stories up. The city sprawled out before you. You could see city lights and in the distance a plume of smoke sure to be the fire you just came from. You remarked at how far away you were. Looking towards the door you saw white curtains billowing through the opening leading into a dark room. “This way” he gestures once more. His hand at the small of your back pushing you towards the entrance. 

You step inside, looking for someone, anyone. A large room with a couple connecting hall ways it looked like. Seems to be an apartment. A very nice one. You begin searching the room familiarizing yourself with it, it’s pretty dark except for the light of a modular fire place that hung from the ceiling. There’s a four-post bed with sheer white curtains, lace pillows, and a velvet duvet. Some accents, art, and statues, it looked very high class, very luxurious. Who did it belong to? You thought. It didn't matter though. 

Homelander had stepped behind you watching you roam the apartment you were now essentially trapped in. He stood behind you, shedding off pieces of his torched suit, exposing himself completely. He playfully tugged at his cock, already hard. Pulling it to his abdomen and letting it slap down onto his leg in a spring like motion. SLAP! He was hard watching you at the building fire, the intensity only grew. Especially when he held you close. He watched you search the room, calling out to no one. He snickered to himself. How much is she really willing to help hmm? He thought about you begging for him, praying he would let you come, but only after he tore you to shreds and broke you down mentally. He needed you to crave him, needed you to need him. Appreciate him, respect him, and most of all, obey him! Look at her, stupid enough to go along with this, she’s so sweet. It sickened him and only made his fervent lust grow. 

The realization finally began to hit, and a pit dropped in your stomach. There was no one here to help. In a way, you already knew but held onto some kind of hope, albeit for nothing. You began to spiral in your mind when a loud slap could be heard behind you. You spin around quickly on your heels, already on edge when your eyes are drawn to Homelander. The doors had closed behind him, and there he stood, completely nude in front of you. You stood with your mouth agape when he said “sorry, my suit was burned, practically tarnished, I had to take it off.” He shrugged his shoulders and chuckled with a sly smile. Hs eyes narrowed as he grabbed his cock and pulled it up once more to his abdomen and let it slap down onto his leg. SLAP! He was throbbing, watching your reaction to him so boldly lying to your face and exposing himself to you, jacking off in front of you with zero consequences. He knew he could do anything he wanted- get anything he wanted, and anyone would give it to him, even you. Whether you liked it or not. 

You recoiled in disgust and shock, eyes wide with fear. Although earlier you had thought about him like this maybe even slightly, not like this! “Where are they?!” you tried to say in a tone that was stern yet confident enough to not show fear. He could hear the fear in your voice, the pulse that raced through your veins that told everything in your mind and body to run away. “Who?” he replied teasingly. SLAP! “The people! The people you said needed help!” you shot back, starting to lose your cool. Heat rose to your cheeks and you felt hot, dizzy and angry. The light of the fireplace danced gently over his features illuminating him in an amber glow. Every muscle, every shape and curve on his body, shrouded in firelight.  

He stepped forward, walking briskly towards you. You stammered back, glancing behind you, looking for a place to run but hitting a wall. You tried to look for an exit, but the room was dimly lit, and it was too late. He was already right in front of you. You leaned against the wall and clasped your hands behind your back as he pressed his hand against the wall next to your head, the other hand holding his throbbing length… SLAP!  

“It’s me!” he said in a curt tone, almost annoyed you didn’t know. His eyes traveled, looking you up then down. “I need your help!” he stated. You turned your head sideways as he leaned in, whispering in your ear “My suit was burned, I could have been hurt saving those people, don’t you care?” A brief flicker of red lit up behind each eye, and you felt yourself shrink in his presence. You were scared, unsure of yourself. He’s invincible, you thought. Your head spun; you didn’t understand the weight of the situation. Except that he lied to you to get you here. He grabbed your chin with his free hand and turned your face to his, looking at you behind a furrowed brow. “Don’t you care about me?!” SLAP! His face scrunched, examining your reaction, waiting for a reply. “Y-Yes.. I care about you.” You chimed apprehensively and unconvincingly. He doesn't even know your name, you thought. He doesn't care. 

He let go of your chin. “Show me” he demanded behind a mischievous smile that curled at the ends of his lips. He placed his hands on your shoulders gripping the fabric of your shirt underneath and ripping it off, pulling it apart, you heard the buttons pop off and hit the floor with a ting as it ripped down the center. Your heart leapt into your throat as he devours you with his eyes, reeling in the sight of your ample breasts and the soft fleshy skin beneath your bra. He was all but salivating for you. He wanted to rip your bra off and nuzzle himself between your breasts, to inhale the skin, to feel their warmth. But he wanted you to prove yourself. Did you really care about him? Were you really a good girl? 

At this point, you realize what he brought you here for. But why you? He was a supe. He could literally kill you without a thought, and he would be protected. Your mind was hazy, but you couldn’t stop your own eyes from wandering. He was, in all his glory, vulnerable and bearing himself to you. Part of you thought it irresistable, intimate even. His body against yours felt like fire, and your senses began to tingle and go haywire. SLAP! You found yourself at the will of your hormones as your thoughts and body took over. He pushed his body closer, his hard length now pushing into your abdomen with force. A gasp fell from your lips as he looked into your eyes, a deep blue sea of burning blue ice. Entranced by his physique. Another whisper, more stern this time “I said, show me!”  

He stepped back, and you dropped to your knees in front of him. His hand on top of your head caressed the side of your face and slid to the underside of your chin, forcing you to look up at him, he gave a cursory look, eyebrows raised as if to say ‘I’m waiting’. Not wanting to disappoint him or make him angry, you quickly raise your hands up and rest them on his thighs. Feeling the softness of his skin. Leaning in, you open your mouth and take him in. His hands were immediately in your hair, pulling you in closer. Sticking out your tongue and forcing his length down the back of your throat. Tears begin to stream down your face. He put a finger to your face, catching a tear as it fell and pressing it to his tongue. His throbbing cock twitched in your throat. It was substantially thick and unreasonably big, the force stretching your throat was enough to make you cry.  

He threw his head back, letting out a low groan. Your mouth is so warm, so wet, and so tight. He imagined stretching your pussy, pounding you into oblivion until you either cried and begged for him to stop or climaxed and cried for more. You continued sucking, taking him in as deep as you could each time, hoping to please him and show him you were truly a good person. That you did care about him, you cared about everyone truly...but especially him. He created a feeling in you- you had not had previously, a desire for him. You used your hands to explore his body as you gulped him down, mesmerized by him. Caressing his abdomen, his buttocks and his balls. He had his hands twisted in your hair, rocking with the motion of your mouth. Every once in a while, taking your time to gently circle his tip with your tongue while sucking, ending in a kiss to his tip. Each time your lips pulled from him, a trail of precum would string from your lips.  

You looked up at him, licking your lips clean. “Mmm, that’s a good girl. Show me more.” He growled through his passion as he pulled you to your feet and directed you to get on the bed. He smacked your ass with force as you walked, it rang out with a snap, even against the fabric, it stung. You lurched forward falling into the bed face first. He quickly stood behind you spreading you knees apart on the bed with his legs as he approached. He began tearing your remaining clothes from you in shreds laughing. You felt defeated and ashamed, but you wanted more. Embarrassment filled your face with heat, a bright red hue colored your nose and cheeks.  

Your bra, snapped and torn. Your jeans, off, split in two, your underwear, lacy and white, torn from between your legs. You whimpered as they dug in while being ripped off of your body. Quick and painful. Grabbing your hips, he pulled you closer to the end of the bed where he stood. A cold breeze drifted across your back, buttocks, and exposed legs. He had you right where he wanted you. He liked it when you squirmed, when you whimpered. You thought perhaps you liked it as well. You found yourself helpless, at his mercy, and obeying his every command.  

He smacked you again and again. The sound of your flesh being abused rang out into the empty room, bellowing out and echoing back to you. Your skin again burning from the impact of his open hands leaving red hand prints sprinkled over your flesh. He joyfully continued. His face in a half smirk with eyes narrowed as he reveled in every cry that escaped your mouth. Your skin, now mottled with bruises and scratches. Smack! Again, he slaps your ass and drags his fingers down. Pinching you, squeezing hard, and watching you recoil, helpless to get away. You could feel the wetness spread between your legs. “Who’s my good girl, huh?” he said confidently in a gruff. “I aam” you cried out in a huff, face buried in the blankets. He placed both palms on your cheeks and placed his thumbs close to your crevice, pulling with his thumbs and exposing your most intimate parts to him. The brisk air on the wetness of your cunt sent a shiver up your back and goosebumps peppered your skin. Homelander took notice and began smoothing his hands over the surface of your legs and back as you lay before him, relishing in the work he’s created. An artwork of purple and red now enhanced by the prickling of your skin. 

What a sweet little cunt, he thought to himself. He then pushed against the surface of your opening with a single finger, taunting you, teasing you in a cruel way. You rocked your hips back toward him but couldn’t move, not unless he decided to let you. “what’s wrong bleeding heart? Not so sweet now, are you?” You whined as he toyed with you. Slowly drawing circles around your labia, clit, and opening, spreading your wetness around his fingers and your vulva. “Please, Homelander, please!” you begged him, a muffled plea distorted from the blankets below. You turn your head to look back at him, the only thing you could manage to move. You watched as he brought his face down, placing his tongue along your slit, flat, wide, and slowly licking up towards your entrance. You couldn’t take it anymore; he was teasing you and you were putty in his unforgiving hands. You melted into his touch. Pure bliss and euphoria filled your body as your mind released a load of dopamine to your receptors. Telling you, you wanted him, no- you needed him. Now! 

Slowly, he pushed two fingers in. The sheets below you, clutched within your hands as you lay on top of them. His hand held tightly, gripping your left cheek, holding you open as he explored, pushing in harder and deeper as he went. He could manage his strength sure, but he wanted so badly to fuck you into the bed, and you wanted to feel just a fraction of his strength, you thought you could handle it. In his mind he knew you couldn't. You, a delicate little thing. A rabbit he had caught. But just the same he held back, he needed time to play, to be entertained. 

The room filled with the aches and moans coming from your mouth as he pulled his fingers in and out of you, licking up and down your slit, and fucking you with his tongue. You wanted to move, but he had a hold of you. But you wanted to see his face, to watch him as he pleasured you so lovingly, a stark contrast to how you got here. They way his tongue traveled so freely between your folds and into your core, both tender and firm. There was no escape. You didn't want him to stop, your walls quivered around his fingers. 

He stopped, his fingers sopping, his face covered in your fluid. You feel his arm reach under you and pull you, turning you around. You lay before him on your elbows, knees bent. He pulls your forward, his face stern, as he gazed at your chest. He kneels in front of you and without words opens his mouth and laps at your breast flesh with his tongue. Sucking, licking, biting, lightly flicking your nipple with his tongue. A low hum building in the back of his throat. Your juices now smeared all over your chest as he paws and devours your breasts. You moan in ecstasy, a high-pitched squeal that reverberated in the room. You could feel his lips curl into a smile around your areola as he consumed all of you. Inhaling you in deeply.  

Your hand roamed his body, such a powerful being, and you had the pleasure of taming him. Your hands, rubbing along the muscles on his back, your fingers tracing the veins sticking out on his arms as he cradled your chest. In this moment, you weren't scared of him. You knew his power that he could kill you with his dick if he wanted to. But in this moment, he was vulnerable, weak even. He was the most human right now with you than he had felt in a while. Something about a woman with ample breasts opening up for him, opening everything up for him, filled him with a sense of true belonging. The elusive high he was truly trying to chase but always evaded him so eagerly. It was true compassion, isn't that why he chose you? You, specifically. Not just a beautiful woman, a beautiful woman with a pure heart.  

"You’re being such a good girl," he moaned into your chest. You move your hands from his shoulders to his face, pulling him up. He looks up at you. You observe an innocent, unassuming look in his eyes. He follows where you guide him. Your lips push against his in a heavy kiss. He pushes your shoulders down and pins you to the bed, enveloping you in his own passionate kiss. He swirls his tongue in your mouth and bites your bottom lip hard. You could taste the tinge of blood, like pennies in your mouth. Blood pooled at the corner or your mouth. With a flick of his thumb, he wiped it away and kissed you again. He found the taste of your blood mixed with your essence to be intoxicating, making him drunk with lust. 

 "Are you ready for your reward?" He said nefariously. That smile, no matter how menacing you thought it was, still made you crumble. "Mhmm" was all you could manage. He stood, quickly lifting you from the bed so you were face to face with him once more. He cradled your legs in his arms, holding you to him effortlessly. Slowly, you felt his arms drop you down, his hardness, now piercing your slick wet opening just barely. You groaned, once again trying to motion yourself closer to him, to feel him inside you, but he wouldn't let you move. It was his decision and his alone. With your arms wrapped around him, you began kissing his face and neck. Lightly with delicate pecks.  

Her lips were so soft and moist, he thought to himself as you indulged in him. Leaving traces of saliva trailed down his neck as you pulled your lips from his skin. Soft breaths from your mouth, creating a cool sensation on the surface. He growled deeply and with sudden force, dropped you down, sliding his whole length into you without hesitation or effort. He chuckles as you cry out. His swollen cock, so stiff, so large. It hurt sliding in. You were dripping with him just sticking the tip of his head at your surface, so he entered you easily. But you could feel the pressure inside stretching you from within, a painful yet satisfying fullness. His face was focused on yours as you cried in ecstasy and pain. The pain only amplifying the pleasure of him forcefully ramming you, lifting you up and down, sliding you on and off his cock. He could feel the pressure of your walls closing up and gripping him every time he slid hid length out of you. Then having to forcefully push back in again, opening you up. “So. Fucking. Tight.” He said with each grunt as he proceeded. 

Homelander’s thoughts had ceased at this point. He was enveloped in euphoria, acting on pure instinct but somehow still able to hold back. He concentrated on your face, watched as beads of sweat pooled on your forehead, then dropped down your face and onto your chest, glistening on your breasts. How your eyebrows curled up in the middle as your voice rang out into the room. Your screams only made him more crazed. He pounded you in a frenzy. Meeting each thrust with a grunt as he hit your cervix harder and faster with each push, causing you to cry out in moans of pure passion intermixed with pain. 

He dropped you back on the bed and stood at the end, parting your thighs once more with his legs. You thoughtlessly wrap them around him pulling him closer almost instant as if it was a natural reaction. You were too out of breath to speak; you could only mumble 3 words “I'll be good”. Homelander leans into the bed, a hand placed at either side of your face as he enters you.  

With your legs wrapped around him and his hands not holding you down, you were now free to meet his thrusts with your own, something he did not expect. He stopped for a moment and watched as you had become what he made you. Craving him, only wanting him, and willing to do anything for it. His body was rigid and still as you bucked and rocked underneath him, trying to meet his pelvis with your own thrusts when his right hand reaches over and closes over your throat He enters you. “Fuck!” you whisper in a harsh tone, unable to fully speak. He shoves his throbbing member into your cunt, squeezing your neck tighter with every slam into you, you fuck him back looking into his eyes as you moan his name.  

He sucks in through his teeth and lets out a long sigh, loosening his grip on your neck. “Now be a good girl and finish me off” he says in a deep whisper. You nod your head in agreement, wanting it just as bad as he did. He lightly pecks your lips before releasing his grip and lying next to you. You lift your legs to straddle him on the bed, knees pressed to his hips. His hands wander to your chest, squeezing and pulling the flesh. With your hands placed firmly on his abdomen, you allow yourself to sit down on him, giving yourself he time to adjust to him, which he had not done. He thought this to be tedious. Were you teasing him? He would not allow it. His hands reach out and grip your hips, pushing you onto him. There was nothing you could do; his strength was unimaginable. The power of his cock expanding you within was a testament to this. 

You didn't need him to push you down, you thought. You would happily ride him regardless of the pain. This was worth it, something you didn't know you needed and never thought you wanted. The earlier nights troubles were miles away in your mind, you could only think about him now, pleasing him. You felt a yearning for him brew deeply within your loins, and a longing in your heart. 

You propped yourself up, crouching above him on your feet, still stranding him. Your body had accepted him now, and you were wetter than ever, sopping around his manhood. Each bounce met with a loud exhausted moan from you, and a wet slap could be heard echoing off the walls of the room. Music to Homelanders ears, internalizing you moans. Mesmerizing to hear, indifferent to the pain it may have caused you.  

With your arms outstretched behind you gripping his thighs, you bounced on him, each time taking him in fully, rocking forward, as you did. The brush of his pubic hair against your clit as you grinded into him sent you into hysterics. You began slamming yourself on top of him, breathing heavily. He used his hands to cup your breasts and playfully tug at your nipples as you found your climax. He had never heard someone scream so loud while taking his cock. Your pace slowed as your orgasm took over, your body convulsing with every contraction of your cunt around him. “You’re not done yet!” he growled “How greedy” he chuckled maliciously. His words barely registered in your fucked out brain, still swimming from the intensity of your climax.  

“I said you're not done yet! Keep going!” He said in an insistent and unsympathetic manner, slapping your breasts, leaving a large red hand print that stung. He then grabbed your face, pinching your cheeks in his hand and pulling you down. “Fuck me.” You immediately slink back and do as you are told. His good girl. Taken aback by exhaustion and overstimulated, but not wanting to disappoint this work of perfection, not wanting to disappoint The Homelander, you find the strength to continue on. You use all of your strength incomparable to his, to please him, hoping it was good, that it was enough. You were eager to please him and wanted your reward for it.  

You planted yourself on him, over and over again, easing his tip in and out each time. His hands had reached to your backside, clutching the flesh in each fist, pulling you forward with each fall. Looking into his eyes, those piercing sapphire blue eyes sparkling with adoration. You watched as his lashes futtered and his face scrunched, his lips parting as he looked down watching himself slide in and out of you, hands latched onto you. He lets out a low breathy grunt, and his hands go limp on your cheeks, his eyes roll back. You reveled in the moment, soaking up the feeling of him spasming inside you while bursts of his seed shot deep within you. His cum dripping out and collecting around the base as you continued to slowly fuck him. Each burst causing his body to buck and convulse. You maintained your gaze on him, seeing him in his weakest moments. It was sweet. This man you had feared, turned from a monster into something beautiful to you. He was this anamorphic being you could now see clearly. He wanted to be loved, adored, cared for, appreciated, and feared. You wanted to be that person for him. You didn't want to let go or cease this moment. 

He helped you off of him, and you lay sprawled out on the bed. A mess of exhaustion. Pearls of his essence are still leaking out. He sat calmly next to you, enjoying the last bit of euphoria from this high as his orgasm subsided. A coy smile crossed his lips as he caressed the side of your face with his fingers. With no explanation and no words spoken, he left. Just like that. Out the balcony door and into the cloudy night. Still in a daze, you lay there admiring the bites, bruises, scratches, and hand prints that freckled your body, playfully tracing along all the marks he gifted you. Waiting eagerly for is return. 

[gin-juice-tonic]

You guys can read more of what I wrote for that episode if you want.

It connects back to this post about candy asking dipper and mabel for help with the man who lives in her attic, continuing from there

INTRO: https://gin-juice-tonic.tumblr.com/post/677209717915959296/this-is-how-the-episode-starts

(needs re-writing)

CANDY, MABEL, AND DIPPER ARE WALKING UP THE PATH TO CANDY’S FRONT DOOR.

CANDY: I heard you were called like, the “mystery twins!” now. So I thought maybe you could help me with my mystery.

DIPPER, SLIGHTLY EMBARRASSED: Well, that’s more of a working title, but it’s not really importa-

MABEL: Ohhhh I’m so excited to see inside your house, Candy! I hope it’s exactly like my dreams.

CANDY: I’ve had a few dreams of your house as well! Though, I hope it would be nothing like my dreams. It’s usually made of indescribable geometric shapes, shifting forms at high speeds.

CANDY: The furniture is very uncomfortable.

ALL: ...  

CANDY, DIPPER, AND MABEL ALL ENTER CANDY’S HOUSE. 

CANDY: Well, welcome to my home. Please take off your shoes.

IT IS FILLED TO THE BRIM WITH STUFFED ANIMALS (SHOW SEVERAL SHOTS OF ABSURD AMOUNT OF STUFFED ANIMALS)

[MABEL SCREAMS]

[MABEL AND DIPPER TAKE OFF SHOES WHILE LOOKING AT HOUSE]

MABEL: AOOHHH!!! Candy!!! It’s like a build a bear exploded in here! It’s all I’ve ever wished for!

DIPPER: You wish for build a bears to explode? [MABEL SMILES AND NODS]

CANDY: The plushies are all my mom’s. She's been collecting them since before I was born. She likes to display them around the house in various everyday situations. 

CANDY: See? Those two are on their first date. 

[SHOT OF CUTE ANIMALS ON DATE]

MABEL: Aww!

CANDY: And those two are rerouting the wires put in by the shoddy electrician who built this place in the 80s.

[SHOT OF TOY BEARS DOING DANGEROUS REAL ELECTRICAL WORK]

MABEL AND DIPPER LOOK OVER MILDLY CONFUZZLED: Huh.

CANDY: But anyway, we have more important things to discuss. Please sit down. 

CANDY GESTURES TO A SECTIONAL COUCH WRAPPED AROUND A TABLE

[CANDY AND MABEL TAKE THEIR SEATS, STUFFED ANIMALS ARE STILL EVERYWHERE - INCLUDING AROUND THE COUCH]

DIPPER IS FORCED TO SIT NEXT TO ONE OF THOSE CUTESY DOG ANIMAL PLUSHIES WITH THE BUTT-HOLES ON THEM. IT’S ON A SHELF EYE LEVEL WITH HIS HEAD. HE IS CLEARLY UNHAPPY ABOUT THIS. (S&P would likely not allow this. I do not care)

DIPPER, TURNING HIS HEAD AWAY FROM THE PLUSHY’S BUTT: So… what’s the deal with this attic guy you’re asking us about? 

CANDY CLOSES HER EYES AND MAKES A GRAVE EXPRESSION

CANDY: The Attic Man has been in my life for as long as I can remember. Always stomping around in the ceiling and scratching around in the walls when he knows I’m home alone. The closet in my room has a door connecting up to the attic… Sometimes, when I stay up too late, I can feel his eyes stare at me.

CANDY OPENS HER EYES

CANDY: I’m pretty sure he comes in my room when I’m asleep, and I spend every night wondering when he’s finally going to come down and take me away.

CANDY TURNS OFF A FLASHLIGHT SHE HAD BEEN USING FOR MOOD LIGHTING

MABEL: That’s so scary! What does he look like?

CANDY: I don’t know. I’ve never actually seen him. 

DIPPER: You’ve never seen him? How do you know it’s not just a racoon or something? 

CANDY: I’ve had my parents check up there more than a few times. They looked and set out traps, but have never found anything. If it was an animal, it would’ve been caught by now. He must be something at least as smart as a man to have evaded capture for so long.

CANDY: Additionally, the other day, I found… This. My first concrete proof of his existence.

[CANDY HOLDS UP A GUM WRAPPER]

DIPPER: You found some trash? 

CANDY: Not just any trash, Dipper. A gum wrapper! And look!

[CANDY OPENS UP THE WRAPPER TO SHOW THE GUM CHALKY RESIDUE STUFF INSIDE. ITS PINKISH]

[DIPPER AND MABEL LOOK AT EACH OTHER] 

CANDY: It’s cinnamon. Nobody in my family likes cinnamon gum! It’s disgusting! 

[CANDY GIVES THE WRAPPER TO MABEL]

[MABEL LICKS THE WRAPPER]

MABEL: Blegh!

MABEL, SURPRISED: Gasp! It is! 

MABEL HANDS THE WRAPPER TO DIPPER.

DIPPER INSPECTS THE WRAPPER INVESTIGATIVELY: So all we have to go off of is a cinnamon gum wrapper… 

DIPPER PUTS HIS TONGUE ON IT ABSENTMINDEDLY

DIPPER MAKES A GROSSED OUT FACE: (quietly) eugh.

DIPPER: -That could’ve been dropped by anyone.

CANDY: Do YOU know anyone who likes cinnamon gum?

DIPPER: Well… no. But-

[NOISES THAT ARE OBVIOUSLY NOT A RACCOON ECHO FORM THE CEILING]

[EVERYONE LOOKS AT THE CEILING IN SHOCK]

[CANDY AND MABEL LOOK AT DIPPER]

DIPPER: Okay. Those noises did sound pretty mannish. I maintain the gum still could’ve been dropped by anyone though.

(cut to black - commercial)

CANDY, STEALING A BRIEFCASE FROM A STUFFED ANIMAL, THEN PUTTING THE STUFFED ANIMAL IN THE BRIEFCASE : He knows what I’m doing! He’s going to get us before we can get him! We’ve got to leave!

DIPPER, STOPPING CANDY. Nothing’s going to get you! Don’t worry Candy, you can count on us. We’re the mystery twins, remember?.

MABEL, CLIMBING THE COUCH AND YELLING AT CEILING: Yeah! You hear that attic guy? The only one getting got is going to be you! When we get you! Before you can get us! 

DIPPER, PACING, THINKING: In order to figure out what we’re dealing with here, we’re going to need to get up into that attic and investigate. 

(Mabel hops down from the couch in a silly fashion)

DIPPER, TURNING TO CANDY: Since you’re the only one out of the three of us who lives here, we’ll need you to come with us to show us around. Can you do that?

[CANDY LOOKS DOWN AT HER BRIEFCASE, THEN UP AT MABEL AND DIPPER LOOKING BRAVE]

CANDY: …

CANDY: Can I be a mystery twin too? 

DIPPER: I mean that’s kinda our-

[MABEL SHOOTS HIM A LOOK]

DIPPER: Yes. You can be the third mystery twin.

MABEL: Alright! Mystery twins on 3!

MABEL: One two three! 

ALL: MYSTERY TWINS!

DIPPER: Three of us.

CUT TO STAN ON THE PHONE WITH SOOS.

https://gin-juice-tonic.tumblr.com/post/677211635075694592

SOOS SHOWS UP AT THE SHACK

STAN LEADS HIM TO A BIG CLOSET

STAN: First things first, before we do any actual cleaning you’re gonna help me throw out stuff from this closet.

[sweetheartedbylust]

“His baby ”

* 80’s *Nikki sixx x reader smut

💋

- includes : choking , fingering , creaming, degradation and praise , teasing . Slightly sadistic Nikki, and a unspecified age gap ~ Nikki is older than reader

You’ve been sat here for a while now, your boyfriend had just came back from a show and since you had asked him to fulfill your needs, he did

A lot more than you expected.

“ you like that , don’t you sweetheart” he cooed as his fingers continued there assault inside you , him finding the places that would make you scream.

“ Nikki please.. oh fuck” you whimpered out as he added another 3rd finger.

His fingers kept teasing up to your neck as he finally wrapped his partially tattooed hand around it squeezing while his fingers set a brutal pace in you.

“ poor slut.. can’t handle it?” He teased with a smile as you sat unable to think or anything

He sat and continued his assault on your pussy , releasing his hand and now nipping at your neck leaving marks that would probably last weeks.

Your eyes rolling back into your skull as your high approached. “ come on baby, cum all over my fingers “

“ good girl” he grinned as before you knew it you were creaming all over his fingers with tears almost out of eyes .

Being younger than Nikki , he kinda naturally took on the older and more mature role, and honestly he loved it . You were not just his fuck toy when he needed but also his sweet girl who he loved.

-

Hope y’all liked it Xx .

Leave requests or feedback

Love uuu.

[l2vedive]

FROM THE ASHES w. hansol vernon chwe

supernatural horror au + childhood best friends (5.8k)

SUMMARY: in which you and hansol reunite ten years later to face the horrors of the past that left you both scarred and haunted. (reader and hansol centric)

pairing: hansol vernon chwe x fem!reader

featuring: lee chan of seventeen & lee nakyung of fromis

genres: SLOWBURN, angst, kinda horror, supernatural, action, childhood best friends w trauma, set in the 80s

warning(s): crazy amounts of lore, so much slowburn, hurt/comfort, mild descriptions of violence, character death

notes: wrote this purely for my own entertainment after replaying the game the other day. this is inspired by two games actually! it has elements of choices' book called it lives in the woods and romance club's shadows of saintfour. this has some heavy lore but i've done my best to break down most of it so you guys can understand it without playing ♡

if you liked this read, please don't forget to reblog with your thoughts and give it a like !

i. bravery.

it’s late in the evening, and the air feels heavy. you’re standing in front of the old house, the one that’s always felt both like a home and a prison. your small hands are trembling as you clutch the hem of your jacket, eyes scanning the darkened street outside, the distant sounds of the city muffled by the thick fog that has rolled in. you’ve been told not to go out past sunset, that the pisadeira—that thing from the nightmares—will get you. but your mother has been distant for weeks, locked in a room, her eyes wide with fear, always watching the shadows like they’re waiting for something to come.

you know you’re not supposed to be out here. you know the stories. everyone does. don’t go near the flowers. don’t look into the darkness. don’t listen to the whispers. but your feet move before you can think about it, the pull of the unknown stronger than any fear you’ve ever felt. you cross the threshold into the garden, the flowers there too large, too bright, almost alive. your heart races as the petals glisten like they’ve been touched by some forbidden magic, their beauty something both inviting and dangerous.

it’s then that you hear it—the soft voice, like the rustle of leaves in the wind, and you freeze. "come closer."

your breath catches in your throat. you don’t know why you don’t run.

ii. cowardice

hansol is young, barely a year older than you, but already carrying a weight in his chest that most kids his age wouldn’t understand. he doesn’t like to talk about it, the feeling—the one that makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up when he’s alone in the dark. it’s not fear, exactly, more like a sense that something should be there. a presence. a pressure. something pulling at him from the shadows.

his family has always moved around. never staying in one place too long. too many unanswered questions about his father’s work, too many late nights with hushed conversations. hansol never really thought it was strange, until that one night. the one when he was alone in his room, playing with his toy cars, and he felt the air change. the floorboards creaked under someone’s weight—someone who wasn’t there.

the whispers started soon after. he couldn’t remember when, but they were always there, following him like a second shadow, calling him to the dark corners of the house. come closer. i’m waiting.

he told no one. even when his mother came in to check on him that night, he lied, said everything was fine. but deep down, hansol knew something was wrong. there was something in the dark, something that waited for the right moment to pull him under.

iii. small

the bell rings, and you’re at the gates of the middle school, your heart thumping in your chest for reasons you can’t explain. hansol is standing at the edge of the crowd, his usual stoic expression softening when he sees you. he waves shyly, like he always does, and you can’t help but smile back.

“hey, hansol,” you say, walking up to him with a grin. “you know what’s worse than studying for a pop quiz?”

he raises an eyebrow, the faintest spark of interest in his eyes. “what?”

“studying for a pop quiz with the teacher standing over your shoulder,” you say, laughing at the face he makes. “you’d think they’d give us a break.”

he tries to keep it in, but the smile breaks out anyway, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. it’s small, but you notice. “you’re a terrible influence,” he says with a shake of his head, but you can see the fondness in his eyes. inside, his chest flutters, and it’s the kind of flutter he wants to squash. but he can’t, not when you’re standing so close, your laughter light in the air, something unspoken between you both.

iv. sleepover

the annual sleepover at your house is always the most anticipated event of the year. even now, with the haunted past of saintfour hanging over your shoulders, it feels like something that should bring comfort. something normal. but things feel different this time.

hansol is the first to arrive, as always, but this time, there’s an unease in his eyes, a look that doesn’t quite belong in a child his age. he brushes it off when you greet him with a teasing smile, ruffling his hair as he steps inside. a small girl follows behind him and you swoop her up in your arms.

"it's not funny, you know," he mutters, brushing off your hand, but the corners of his lips twitch.

“gyul thinks it is, right?” you giggle and so does she, mirroring every expression you make.

hansol rolls his eyes and takes her from you so you could go and get things settled for the others.

as the night wears on after putting the youngest attendee to bed, you and your friends, hansol included, settle into the living room. nakyung is the first to start whispering, chan and hansol are too wrapped up in their snacks and games to notice that the air around you all is growing thicker, heavier.

“hey, do you guys feel that?” you ask, glancing around the room. your voice is shaky, uncertain, but they all brush it off.

“it’s just the storm outside,” nakyung laughs, waving it off. “you’re imagining it.”

but you know what you feel. the chill in the air is different. unnatural. and then you hear it. the soft whispers again, curling around you like smoke. come closer. it’s time to wake up.

before you can react, you feel it—something cold, something sharp, dragging its claws down your neck.

“no!” you scream, stumbling back, but the pain is overwhelming. the petals of the flowers from your nightmares begin to fall, drifting like snowflakes, but the touch of them is suffocating. you gasp, trying to push them away, but it’s no use.

“help! someone help her—!”

your vision dims, everything turning dark as the pain intensifies. you feel yourself slipping, your body falling against the ground as your breath catches in your throat. and then, everything goes black.

when you wake, you find a scar on your neck—a mark of the night you almost didn’t survive. the petals, though, are gone. the whispers are silent. but you can still feel it. she’s still here.

v. whispers

it’s been ten years. a decade of silence. no phone calls, no texts, no letters. you’ve gone your separate ways, drifting through life without the familiar presence of hansol, nakyung, or the others. it’s as if the past—the horrors of saintfour—were a shared dream that none of you wanted to remember. and yet, here you are, standing in the same auditorium once again, the weight of that history pressing down on your chest.

you sit in the crowd of new and old faces, the orientation assembly unfolding in front of you like any typical college event. there’s laughter, excitement, and the usual pre-university buzz in the air. you know hansol is somewhere in the crowd, though you can’t bring yourself to search for him. you feel the pull of your past, that strange, unexplainable tug, but you push it down. this is your fresh start. you won’t let the pisadeira ruin it.

but then, the lights flicker.

it’s subtle at first, just a quick blink, a brief interruption in the otherwise seamless flow of the assembly. no one else seems to notice, but your heart skips a beat. something’s wrong.

the smell of wildflowers invades the air. not the delicate, sweet fragrance of a bouquet—no, this is sharp, invasive, almost suffocating.

not again.

your pulse spikes as the familiar voice drifts into your mind, soft, like a breath against your skin. come closer, (your name).

it’s her. she’s here.

you try to steady your breath, your hands trembling as the whispers grow louder, more insistent, more malicious. i’ve waited for you. don’t run away.

your vision blurs, the room spinning as you struggle to stay grounded in the present. you glance around quickly, desperate to find someone who isn’t caught in the same trap. but everyone else is oblivious, lost in the crowd, unaware of the danger lurking at the edge of your perception.

except hansol, who locks eyes with you. he knows.

you’re back in it. back in the nightmare you thought you escaped.

vi. reawakening

it’s the third week of college when he knocks on your door. hansol. standing in the hallway, looking exactly as you remember, but older, quieter. his eyes are darker now, shadowed by years of things unsaid, but they still hold the same familiarity. you’re caught off guard, unsure of how to react. you weren’t expecting this, not after ten years.

“what are you doing here?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper, trying to mask the shock that’s creeping up your throat.

he hesitates before answering, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket. “your parents blame me,” he says quietly, his gaze not meeting yours. “and I’ve accepted it.”

the words hang heavy in the air, a confession of guilt, an admission of the years he’s spent with that weight on his shoulders. your stomach churns, a mix of anger and sadness rising up. how could they? how could they blame him for something neither of you could control?

you swallow, trying to process everything, but all you can think of is the way hansol looks so small now, so paralysed by the memories of things that shouldn’t be real. you’re reminded of the times when you both stood on the precipice of danger, and you couldn’t protect him. you couldn’t fight back against the monsters that seemed so real.

but you will now.

a fire stirs in your chest, something deep inside you that makes you want to protect him this time. this time, you’ll fight.

you find yourself tracking him, watching from the corners of campus, noting the places he frequents when the weekend comes. you never ask him where he’s going—never question it—but you always seem to find the empty seat next to him, always make sure to sit there when no one else does.

he doesn’t question it at first, but soon, he gives you a sideways glance, his gaze sharp but unreadable. “why didn’t you ask me first?”

you shrug, a small, playful smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “didn’t think I needed to.”

and he doesn’t question how you found him, either. perhaps he’s just relieved to have you there, even if he doesn’t admit it. but his silence is heavy, and you know there’s more to his avoidance than he’s letting on. there always is with hansol.

you’re back in each other’s lives now, and you can feel the weight of what’s coming. you both know it’s not over. it never was. but maybe, just maybe, this time, you won’t be alone.

vii. dive

the party hums with energy, laughter, and loud music, but hansol is nowhere near the centre of it. you find him by the garden, crouched by a patch of daisies, plucking their petals with deliberate precision. with each one, he tosses it lightly into the nearby pool, watching as they float and swirl on the water’s surface.

“you know, that’s supposed to be romantic,” you tease, crossing your arms as you approach. “daisies in a pool? what’s the occasion?”

he glances up at you, his expression unreadable but familiar. “just thought it was nice. peaceful, you know?”

“peaceful? at a party?” you ask, tilting your head. “didn’t think you’d even show up to something like this.”

“figured it’d be less lonely,” he replies, brushing a stray petal from his hand. “knowing the people I grew up with would be here, even if I’m not exactly a part of it.”

you blink, caught off guard by his honesty, but you quickly recover. “well, you’ve got company now,” you say lightly, sitting down on the edge of the pool beside him.

the conversation shifts to small talk, catching up on little details about classes, professors, and the mundane chaos of college life. hansol doesn’t say much, but when he does, his words are careful, thoughtful. he seems more at ease out here, away from the crowd.

then, david bowie’s modern love starts playing from the speakers, the familiar beat making your foot tap instinctively. you nudge his shoulder, a playful grin spreading across your face. “come on. dance with me.”

he leans back slightly, shaking his head with a soft chuckle. “me? dancing out there? maybe you should ask chan. he’d love to dance with you.”

you roll your eyes, laughing, but you pause to search his face. there’s no hint of jealousy, no hard feelings—just a quiet acceptance, as if he’s fine watching from the sidelines. reassured, you rise and wave over chan, who doesn’t hesitate to grab your hand and spin you in a dramatic twirl that makes you laugh out loud.

soon, you’re in the middle of a lively group, dancing like you’ve known each other for years. you fit right in, your energy infectious, your smile bright.

from the edge of the garden, hansol watches you. there’s a flicker of something in his eyes.. you’re the same as you’ve always been. plucky, bold, unafraid to dive into life headfirst.

some things never change, he thinks, his lips curving into a small, almost imperceptible smile.

viii. reverse

study hall is quiet, save for the soft rustle of papers and the occasional tapping of pens against wooden desks. you’ve claimed a corner of the room, surrounded by textbooks and open tabs on your laptop—not for your upcoming pop quiz, but for something far more unsettling.

“pisadeira,” you mutter under your breath, scrolling through yet another article on the folklore.

“still on about that?”

you startle at the voice, looking up to see hansol standing there holding a takeout paper bag for iced americanos without waiting for an invitation, he sets the bag down and slides into the seat next to you.

“you’re supposed to be studying,” he says, nodding toward the pile of notes sprawled across your desk.

“and you’re supposed to avoid this topic,” you counter, narrowing your eyes. “why are you even here?”

he shrugs, taking a sip of his coffee. “figured you’d need a distraction.”

you scoff, though the sight of him flipping through your notes catches you off guard. hansol hasn’t willingly spoken about the pisadeira since that night ten years ago, and seeing him this invested stirs something uneasy in you.

“you never wanted to talk about her before,” you say, your voice quieter now. “why the sudden interest?”

he doesn’t answer immediately, his gaze fixed on one of your highlighted sections. “because she’s not just in your head,” he finally says.

you grit your teeth, frustration bubbling up. “i had another nightmare about her,” you admit. “last week. it was—” you pause, shaking your head. “it felt so real.”

“it’s just a dream,” he says firmly, turning to face you. “you’ll be ready if it happens again. we both will.”

his words are meant to comfort you, but they only add to the weight you already feel. you let out a heavy sigh, rubbing your temples. “you know, sometimes I wish I could just live a normal college life. no nightmares, no supernatural shit, just classes, lazy and terror professors in between and stupid long exams that require all nighters.”

hansol chuckles softly, the sound breaking the tension between you. “if all else fails,” he says after a moment, “you can always swing by my place in the future and help me with boring work stuff.”

you smile faintly, glancing down at your notes. “i might just take you up on that,” you say softly.

for the first time in what feels like forever, the weight on your shoulders feels a little lighter.

ix. time

the sorority house is alive with music and chatter, fairy lights strung across the ceiling casting a soft glow over the room. it’s the first party of the semester you’ve hosted, and your sorority sisters flit around the space, greeting guests and pulling people onto the makeshift dance floor. the air smells faintly of sweet cocktails and the flowers you’d arranged on every table earlier, a hollow attempt to lighten your unease.

it’s been two months since you last dreamt of the pisadeira. the quiet should be a relief, but it isn’t. not when reports have started to trickle through campus about students collapsing, choking on petals of purple flowers and other strange remains. she’s here, you know it, even if she hasn’t come for you yet. but why?

your stomach tightens, not from the pisadeira’s absence but from the creeping feeling of not belonging. this isn’t your scene, no matter how hard you try to pretend otherwise. you’re smiling, laughing, blending in, but for the first time, you feel out of place.

you force the thoughts away, telling yourself this party is meant to be a distraction. another night to blend in, to laugh and pretend like you don’t have a target painted on your back. nakyung has been doing her best to keep you entertained, introducing you to some of the boys she brought along, but none of them hold your attention. they’re polite, but their smiles are shallow, their conversation uninteresting.

“come on, smile,” nakyung whispers, nudging you with her elbow as she gestures toward a small group of guys lingering by the makeshift bar. “they’re cute, right? you should at least try.”

you force a smile, but it feels brittle. “they’re not my type.”

“you don’t have a type,” she retorts, rolling her eyes. “you’re just being stubborn.”

as nakyung drifts off to entertain someone else, you take a deep breath, your stomach knotting tighter with every passing second. the truth is, this isn’t your scene. it never has been. tonight, you feel the weight of that reality more than ever.

you glance around, catching sight of hansol by the snack table. he’s pouring himself a drink, looking more like a ghost than a guest.

he’s been here for five minutes, maybe less, and already he’s drifted to the edge of the room. across the hall, hansol is doing his best to blend into the wallpaper. chan had promised this party would be fun, nudging him along with a grin as they arrived. but as soon as they entered, chan was gone, disappearing into the crowd to charm strangers.

hansol doesn’t join him. he never does. instead, he hugs the corner of the party, his fingers curling nervously around the rim of his glass. his stomach churns, not from the punch but from the persistent tug of unease that’s been gnawing at him all evening. the music thrums against his chest like a second heartbeat, and yet he feels like he’s the only one moving in slow motion, the clock dragging its hands with agonising patience.

he’s by the snack table you meticulously laid out earlier, his shoulders hunched. hansol feels like an afterthought here, a placeholder for a party that doesn’t need him.

he glances at his watch, willing the minutes to pass faster, his chest tight with unease. it’s not the party that’s getting to him, though. it’s the clock. it feels like a countdown to something you can’t name, but every second that ticks by only makes him feel sicker.

he looks in a hurry. like he’s chasing time, trying to outrun something.

and then, as if sensing your curiosity, his gaze finds yours across the room.

you’re across the room, framed by the warm glow of fairy lights, your expression distant. for a moment, he wonders if you’re as uncomfortable as he is. when your eyes meet, it’s like the noise of the crowd fades into the background.

you smile—a small, fleeting gesture, but genuine.

he wants to smile back, to walk over, to say something, anything. but the moment stretches too long.

he doesn’t move, and neither do you

instead, you turn away, letting the crowd swallow you back up. hansol stays rooted to the spot, watching as you slip back into the crowd, a forced laugh on your lips as nakyung waves you over to meet another new face. hansol watches as you disappear into the sea of faces, his grip tightening around the cup in his hand.

somewhere in the corner of your mind, you replay the brief encounter, wondering why your heart clenched in that strange, familiar way. for a second, you’d felt tethered, but now the party feels lonelier than ever.

maybe he could’ve walked over, said something, done anything, if he didn’t already know what was coming.

but he does.

he looks at his glass, his reflection faintly visible in the surface of the drink. for a moment, he swears he sees something ripple beneath it, a flicker of purple that disappears the second he blinks.

x. pisadeira

the ruins reek of blood and decay, the air thick with the copper tang of the pisadeira's end. your dress clings to your skin, sodden with sweat, dirt, and her blood—so dark it looks black under the moonlight. your breathing is laboured, each inhale a desperate attempt to find clarity, but there is none to be found.

"leave them," hansol says, voice sharp as a whip, pulling you away from the remains of her carnage. the “dogs”—summoned guardians nakyung had managed to control—snarl and lunge at the creatures spilling into the ruins, their teeth gleaming like moonlit steel. "we have to go."

"we can’t just—" you start, but he grips your arm, the pressure of his fingers like iron.

"there’s no time!"

the urgency in his tone silences you, but the unease in your gut only grows as he pulls you, nakyung, and chan into the woods. branches claw at your ruined dress as you stumble after him, feet numb from the cold. the shadows seem alive, writhing like snakes in your periphery. hansol moves with a singular purpose, his jaw tight, his eyes flickering with something unreadable.

you glance back at chan and nakyung. chan’s face is pale, his usual easygoing charm replaced with grim determination. nakyung looks shaken, her lips pressed into a thin line, but she follows without question.

"hansol," you say, your voice trembling. "what’s going on? where are we going?"

"somewhere safe," he says, but there’s a crack in his voice, a crack you don’t miss.

"safe?" nakyung repeats, her tone laced with suspicion. "what do you mean safe? safe from what?"

"just trust me," hansol says, not looking back.

you want to trust him. god, you want to trust him. but something about the way he moves, the way his hand keeps brushing the pocket of his jacket, makes your heart pound with something other than exertion.

the forest thickens, the trees closing in around you like skeletal fingers. the air grows colder, the smell of wildflowers creeping into your nostrils. your steps falter.

"hansol," you whisper, panic threading your voice. "she’s here, isn’t she? the pisadeira’s not—"

"it’s not her," he cuts you off, his voice low and haunted. "not anymore."

you stop in your tracks. "what do you mean?"

he turns to face you, and for the first time, you see it—the torment, the guilt, the unbearable weight he’s been carrying.

"hangyul," he says, his voice breaking. "it’s my sister."

the world tilts and you feel like the wind’s knocked you off of your feet. "what?" you breathe, stepping back.

"she’s the one," he says, his voice trembling with the effort to stay steady. "the one who’s been hunting us. the one who’s been killing them."

"no," you say, shaking your head. "no, that’s not—she’s dead, hansol. she’s been dead for ten years."

"because of you," he snaps, the venom in his tone slicing through you. "because you failed to save her. because you let pisadeira take her."

the accusation hits like a physical blow, and for a moment, you can’t breathe.

"that’s not fair!" nakyung interjects, stepping forward. "you know it’s not her fault."

"isn’t it?" hansol says, his eyes locking onto yours, sharp and unyielding. "she was the one who insisted we stay in that house. the one who convinced us it wasn’t real. and now my sister—she was innocent ! ” hansol turns to you, exasperated and eyes blurred with anger. “you turned her into a monster."

"she wasn’t your sister anymore," you say, your voice trembling. "not after what the pisadeira did to her. you know that."

"and you think that makes it easier?" he shouts, his composure shattering. "you think that makes it any less my responsibility to save her now?"

"save her?" chan echoes, his voice sharp with disbelief. "by doing what, hansol? what are you planning?"

silence falls, heavy and suffocating. hansol’s hand moves to his pocket, and when it emerges, it holds a knife.

"no," you whisper, your blood turning to ice.

"i’m sorry," he says, his voice hollow. "but this is the only way."

"you’re not making any sense!" you scream, backing away. "hansol, stop ! "

but he doesn’t stop. he steps forward, his grip on the knife tightening.

"i can’t let her keep suffering," he says, his voice breaking. "and i can’t let her come for you again. if i have to end this—if i have to hurt you to save her—then so be it."

"you’re insane," nakyung spits, stepping between you. "you think killing her—killing us—is going to fix anything? you’re just as much a monster as she is!"

"hansol, please," you say, your voice cracking. "don’t do this. we can find another way."

but he shakes his head, tears streaming down his face. "there is no other way. i have to end this. i have to end her."

and then he lunges.

your survival instincts take over, your body moving before your mind can catch up. you grab a fallen branch, swinging it with all your strength. the knife slices through the air, grazing your arm before you manage to knock it from his grip.

"traitor," you hiss, your voice filled with betrayal and heartbreak. "you brought us here. you led us into this."

"because i had to," he says, his voice breaking. "you don’t understand—"

"then make me understand!" you scream, the weight of ten years of pain and regret crashing down on you.

but he doesn’t answer. instead, he stumbles back, his hand clutching his side where your makeshift weapon struck.

"hansol," nakyung says, her voice trembling. "don’t make us do this. please."

he doesn’t respond. instead, he looks at you, his eyes filled with an agony you can’t begin to comprehend.

when the knife finally finds your back, the betrayal hurts more than the sting of the blade.

xi. bravery

the room is a warzone of exhaustion and regret, every shadow crawling with the remnants of what had just unfolded. nakyung and chan lie unconscious but breathing, their bodies splayed across the cold stone floor like broken dolls. the silence that follows is heavier than the chaos it replaced. the spirit of the pisadeira looms ahead, a gnarled figure of fury and vengeance, her form almost too grotesque to look at directly. but your eyes are drawn instead to hangyul’s ghost—her face streaked with spectral tears, her cries thin and keening, a sound that seems to reverberate inside your chest.

your body is screaming at you to stop, to lay down and give in to the pain radiating from your back where hansol’s knife had found you earlier. you clutch the wound with trembling fingers, sticky with blood, but your legs stay steady beneath you. barely.

hansol moves towards you like a puppet with its strings cut, dragging his feet as though the weight of his guilt has made it impossible to walk properly. his face is pale, streaked with sweat and grime, his eyes hollow and faraway. when he finally stands in front of you, you see a boy unravelling, a man drowning in the consequences of his choices.

he whispers, “i’m sorry,” but the words fall into the abyss between you, too light to matter now.

you can feel the fury bubbling in your chest, threatening to spill over. “sorry?” your voice trembles with anger and anguish. “you think that fixes this? you think that fixes her?” you gesture to hangyul’s ghost, to the weeping figure of the sister he’s chased after for so long.

his head dips low, his shame radiating like heat. “everything I did… was for her,” he says, his voice cracking. “i thought—i thought if i gave her what she wanted, if i made it right—”

“you betrayed us,” you cut him off, your voice sharper than you mean it to be. “you betrayed me, hansol.”

the words land like blows, and he flinches visibly.

but then you see it—the way his hands shake, the way his lips press together as though holding back a sob. he doesn’t want to fight anymore. he doesn’t want to keep running.

and despite everything—despite the knife in your back, the blood on his hands—you see the boy you grew up with, the boy who once handed you the last piece of bread during a sleepover, who once told you your laugh was louder than the cicadas.

“you can’t fix this by throwing yourself into it,” you say, softer this time. “don’t you see? the pisadeira doesn’t want justice, hansol. she wants suffering. she’ll take you, and it’ll never end.”

he looks at you then, truly looks at you, and you can see the cracks in him deepening. “then what am i supposed to do?”

you glance at hangyul’s ghost, her ethereal form flickering, fading in and out like a candle struggling to stay lit. your mind is racing, calculating the options. the pisadeira’s form trembles, growing impatient, her sharp, distorted voice rasping through the air.

“one soul,” she hisses. “one soul to replace the one lost. a fair trade.”

hansol starts to step forward, his movements deliberate, but you stop him with a hand on his chest.

“no,” you say firmly.

“(your name), please,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “this is my fault. let me fix it.”

“if you want to fix it, you stay alive,” you snap, your breath hitching from the sharp pain in your back. “you stay alive, and you remember this. you live with it. and you make it mean something.”

he stares at you, wide-eyed, as you step past him. your body feels like it’s made of lead, every movement torturing him, but you don’t stop. before he can stop you, you turn and step toward the pisadeira, the wound in your side burning like fire, your legs trembling but unyielding. the creature watches you with a twisted smile, her skeletal fingers outstretched. hangyul’s ghost weeps behind her, mouthing a silent plea for you to stop.

“no!” hansol lunges forward, grabbing your arm, but you wrench yourself free. you feel hansol’s scream more than you hear it, but you don’t turn back. bravery is all you have left.

"let her go," you say, your voice clear and strong. "take me instead.".

“don’t make me watch this again,” you hear hansol plead, his voice desperate, tears streaking his face. “please, (your name). don’t—”

“it has to end. you told me yourself. this happened because of me.” you say, your voice steady despite the fear coursing through you. “so it will end with me too.”

you step into the circle at the centre of the room, where the ritual had been poised to complete with hansol’s sacrifice. the pisadeira snarls, her twisted face splitting into something that might have been a grin.

you glance back at hansol one last time, your eyes meeting his. you see the devastation there, the love, the regret. and for a brief moment, you smile. “be brave and live well, hansol,” you tell him. a tear falls and you can’t bear the thought of looking back and seeing him broken.

you see hangyul’s ghost move closer, her lips forming the words "thank you." before she vanishes like a light. at the same time, the pisadeira’s grin widens as her claws pierce your chest, the pain white-hot and all-encompassing. as the darkness closes in.

and then, nothing.

xii. cowardice

when the silence falls, it is not the peaceful kind. it is the suffocating quiet of loss, the heavy weight of a world newly broken. hansol’s knees give out beneath him, and he crumples onto the cold, uneven ground. his head falls into his hands, shaking as sobs tear from his throat.

"no," he whispers hoarsely, his voice trembling and thin. "no, no, no…"

the ruins are bathed in an eerie stillness, illuminated only by the dim glow of the moon. nakyung and chan stir on the floor, groaning faintly as they start to come to, but they are not awake enough to witness the wreckage left behind. hansol feels the briefest flicker of relief that they’re alive—alive, because of you—but it is fleeting, swallowed by the sight of you lying motionless, your body crumpled on the stone floor, your skin pale and cold to the touch.

this is his doing.

"it wasn’t supposed to be this way," he rasps, his hands trembling as he cups your face, brushing his thumb against your clammy cheek. he pulls you close, his tears falling onto your lifeless skin. "you weren’t supposed to—" his voice breaks, and he clutches you tighter, as though holding you close might bring you back.

the sound of sirens pierces the distance, their wailing cry growing louder with each second. hansol freezes, his chest heaving as panic sets in. he can’t be seen here. not like this. not holding your body, your blood on his hands, his knife discarded somewhere in the wreckage.

they’ll blame him. they should blame him.

"no, not like this," he whispers, his hands shaking as he gently lowers your body back onto the ground. his fingers brush your hair away from your face, his breath catching in his throat as he takes in every detail of you—the softness of your features, the way your lashes rest against your cheeks, the faint traces of the bravery you wore so fiercely etched into your expression.

a daisy lies nearby, untouched amidst the chaos, and he picks it up with trembling fingers. carefully, he tucks it into your hair, his movements deliberate and tender, as though this small act might undo the horrors of the night.

"i’m sorry," he whispers, his voice breaking. "i’m so sorry."

the sirens are close now, too close. hansol’s heart pounds in his chest as he looks at you one last time, memorising every detail, every part of you that he couldn’t save.

and then he runs.

— please do not copy , translate or repost any of my works anywhere.

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