#this is gonna be a case of “I wouldn't do that” I have a feeling
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𓂅new order. "pain aux raisins, pain au chocolat and uh... a soufflé."
"Surprise, muddle fudger!"
pairing. Boothill x gn!reader
cw/genre. action, some nsfw(desperate kisses with tongue), violence, implied deaths, weapons (guns and knives), no gore, anyway mdni
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You and Boothill were… Rivals at best. With both of you being mercenaries, it was easy to get competitive. Ironically, you knew each other the best. So, of course, after you pissed off a bunch of higher-ups and gained a large bounty on your head, Boothill was the first one on the case. He was confident he'd be the one to bring you in, dead or alive. It was only normal to chase after your rival, right?
Boothill had your face memorized for this job. But then again, he's had your face memorized for a while. He was confident he would catch you, and you were confident you wouldn't get caught. Though, you had a strong feeling that Boothill was on your trail. This feeling was proven correct when the familiar click of a gun echoed into the room. Here you were hoping to finish this mission without a hassle.
"There's a huge bounty on your head, sweetheart. How 'bout you make this easy f'me and come along without a fight?"
Boothill smirked as he stood in the doorway to the dimly lit room. He had his weapon leveled and aimed at your head. Of course, you knew he wouldn't kill you, but he might mess up your appearance a bit. His expression seemed to be a mix of excitement and annoyance. Maybe he was eager to turn in his former rival and gain the bounty for himself. On the other hand, his annoyance might have something to do with the fact that he'd prefer not to fight you. This job had already made him frustrated, but knowing you, you'd make it harder for him.
"I really am hopin' it doesn't have to come to shooting you darlin'." he said, his voice low.
"But if it comes down to it, so be it." There was an air of teasing around Boothill's tone, as if he was enjoying the situation. He had always relished challenging you. But now, there was something else in his eyes as he stood in front of you. Was that a flicker of affection?
You rolled your eyes at the slight thought of that.
"Ya know I'm not just gonna turn myself in, pretty boy." You responded, turning to him with a smirk. Your hand slowly hovered over your own weapon, ready for a fight if you needed to.
The both of you were quite skilled, which made the rivalry all the more exciting. You knew you'd be in for one hell of a fight.
"Now, I don't know what you did to get every mercenary on your trail, but I'd say your best bet is coming with me."
Boothill slowly lowered his weapon as he approached with caution. This was the first time he'd seen you in a bit, and he clearly hadn't expected for you to look so exhausted. Your condition didn't look too good, and he could see how you'd probably have difficulty fighting right now. He also seemed to notice the injuries you had from previous fights with the other mercenaries. He could see a few bullet wounds and a couple scratches.
Despite that, you seemed very willing to face it. Everything to fight for your freedom and life, nothing new.
He took a few more steps forward, his weapon still in his hand. His eyes were studying your features, taking in your tired expression. He hadn't expected to see you this way – beaten and weak. He was a bit concerned, but it also made him more confident, knowing you weren't at your full strength at the moment. He knew you'd still put up a fight despite your condition, though. You'd never give up without a struggle.
"I can see ya ain't looking too good."
Boothill raised his eyebrow as he got closer. He kept his weapon lowered, a signal that he wasn't going to shoot you for now.
He spoke slowly, as if trying his best to not upset you.
"Listen, you're a very skilled merc. I know you're strong as hell, but you're in no condition to fight right now."
He took another step closer before pausing, his eyes scanning the room. From what he could tell, the whole building was silent. No other mercenaries or enemies around to interfere. Just the two of you - alone.
"So…turn yourself in and it's over."
Silence.
"Haha, you're so funny!" You spoke, unsheathing your gun, aiming it straight at his head.
Your finger was on the trigger of the gun in your hand.
"Don't you dare take another fucking step because I'll blow your little brain away."
You held your ground, aiming your own weapon at him in warning. Boothill froze in place, clearly knowing the risks of making a wrong move. He had seen this stubborn side of you many times before, and he wasn't surprised by you threatening him.
Seeing you like this wasn't unfamiliar to him. In fact, he'd seen you at your worse moments before. He'd seen the rage and the pain, and he'd witnessed the moments when you'd been too exhausted to fight.
But now, it really didn't look like you were slightly injured.
He didn't seem shocked you weren't giving up. No - he seemed excited. This was exactly how he'd expected you to respond. His gaze was locked on yours, his expression one of cocky overconfidence.
"I ain't gonna lie, you're lookin' pretty damn sexy right now"
He responded, his voice low and teasing. You heard a chuckle escape his lips as his eyes flickered over you. He clearly enjoyed the danger this situation posed – the thrill that only you ever got him.
"You're insufferable"
You rolled your eyes once more, though there was a smirk on your lips. It was no secret that you and Boothil had a bit of a history together. After all, your relationship was mostly based around competition and flirting.
Despite your injuries, you stood there defiantly, unbothered by his flirtatious remark. Of course, he would take the time to give you compliments, even when you could shoot him right here, right now. However, the compliment didn't seem like an empty one either.
He was staring at you with the same cocky expression on his face, but there was more in his eyes than the teasing. There was a clear admiration and affection there.
"It's not good for you to make assumptions too soon, precious." You said.
Maybe he was right, maybe he wasn't. You were a little hurt from the recent fights against other nosy guys, but the adrenaline in your body put you back together in one way or another.
Boothill let out a soft chuckle at your response, his eyes gleaming with amusement. It was difficult to not get caught up in this sort of flirting exchange. His gaze remained locked on you, taking in the sight of your injuries despite your determination.
As he studied you, his gaze slowly travelled down your body, admiring your injured but still impressive form. His smirk widened, clearly impressed by how you were holding yourself together despite everything.
"Oh, I wasn't assuming, sweetcheeks." He replied, taking a step closer. "I was stating a damn fact— "
His words were somewhat cut off by the gunshot next to his face. The thing you loved most about yourself was your very good aim.
"My eyes are up here." You spoke mockingly.
"And I said don't come any closer." You were ready to shoot him, you weren't kidding.
"Damn, you're not afraid to play dirty, huh?" He grinned.
A chuckle escaped his lips again as he stopped himself from moving any closer. His cocky demeanor was still present, but he had to admit that he found it amusing when you shot near his face. He really liked your feisty attitude.
"Fine, fine. I won't come any closer." He said with a smirk, raising his hands slightly as if surrendering to your demand.
He stepped back, putting some distance between the two of you. He still kept his eyes on you, but he tried to contain his previous overconfidence.
You kept your eyes locked on him, a sense of pride swelling within you. Despite the danger you were still in, you smirked back at him, relishing the moment of victory.
"Wise call, pretty boy." You taunted.
He had no choice but to keep his distance, and you enjoyed knowing that you had a bit of an advantage here. Though Boothill had no intentions of actually killing you, he was confident that he would win this fight. He just had to outsmart you somehow.
Your steps stopped abruptly when a bullet passed in front of your eyes.
"Shit." They shot out of the window. They almost blew your brain.
You quickly moved to cover yourself so that this time they would have the opportunity to shoot you. However, you still had to be careful with Boothill.
Your expression hardened as you slowly took a look behind you to see who was shooting you. You saw several men in military uniforms, carrying various types of guns. There were at least two snipers on the roof. They must have been the ones who shot through the window.
Although you felt flattered that so many people came after you, it seemed somewhat unfair to you. You were in a matchup more on par with Boothill, while the others were too far down for you.
You returned your attention to Boothill. He seemed a little surprised by the sudden interruption.
"Seems someone else is trying to claim that bounty on your head." He said, leaning against the wall.
He was still keeping his distance, knowing that they could shoot you both at any moment. You could tell from his body language that he didn't really want to fight them. Although well, he wanted you just for himself. He claimed you first.
The effects of the adrenaline that were diminishing and the injuries were affecting you, so you were not really at your 100%, an advantage for the other people who were also chasing you.
Boothill, seeing one of these uniformed men at the door of the room, did not hesitate to shoot.
"You're welcome, doll."
Boothill's bullet hit the man's shoulder, causing him to fall and yell aloud. His cry immediately attracted the attention of his accomplices, who were now rushing towards the building.
You had to be quick.
"Damn it, Boothill."
You didn't want to keep fighting; you were tired and wanted this whole thing to end. However, you really didn't have a choice. You were outnumbered, and they were determined to take you in one way or another.
"I was going to shoot them myself, you know." You replied sarcastically, taking a deep breath to compose yourself.
As you spoke, another bullet flew past you, barely missing your head. You had to take cover again, though you still managed to look at Boothill with a slight smirk. He just rolled his eyes in response.
"Yeah, sure you were." He said, a tinge of teasing in his voice.
The situation was still dangerous, but you couldn't help but enjoy the banter between the two of you.
"We can't stay here like sitting ducks." You replied, keeping your eyes focused on the door.
You were determined to fight back, and you knew that you had the skills to do it. However, you couldn't help but feel a bit annoyed that Boothill was doing your job, which was killing the other hunters.
"You think I can't handle myself?" You asked, a touch of irritation in your voice.
"Your eyes, darlin'. They look really tired." Boothill noted. He had never seen you look so exhausted before. He couldn't imagine how annoying and tiring it must have been to have a bunch of mercenary idiots after him.
You let out a small scoff at Boothill's remark. You really weren't in the mood to fight anymore, and he knew it. Even so, his teasing made you feel better about this whole situation—or so you thought.
"You know what? Just shut up."
You stayed hidden behind the table with Boothill by your side when another bullet hit the door. You cursed under your breath as you felt your clothes rubbing against the cuts. Your injuries were affecting you, and you were barely holding on.
You held back a small cry as a bullet grazed your hip.
Boothill turned to look at you. However, he kept his worries to himself.
"You're hit." He said, his tone firm but gentle. He reached out to check the wound, but you swatted his hand away.
"I'm fine." You grumbled, not wanting to admit how much pain you were in. You really weren't in the mood to fight anymore. However, no matter how tired you were, you were certain that you could win this fight, especially with Boothill by your side.
"Damn sons of bitches." You muttered, pulling a shot of adrenaline out of your jacket. At least that would help you compose yourself a little.
You could hear footsteps coming closer to where they were, so you quickly inserted the injection into your left leg.
A feeling of sudden power and energy ran through your veins as the drug took effect. You took a moment to take a deep breath, then stood up, ready to fight again.
Following that, you shot the two men inside directly in the head.
Boothill glanced at you with a mixture of surprise.
He wasn't exactly happy about you doing something dangerous like that, but he knew it was probably your only way to keep pushing through this fight. His gaze shifted back to the door, his hand still gripped tightly on his gun.
Since he wasn't going to kill you after all, he was going only to hurt you so he could hand you over and get the reward.
"You sure you won't pass out after that?" He asked, his tone serious.
You rolled your eyes, knowing that he was right. Just maybe. He really was annoying sometimes.
"Shut it and give me some cover." You demanded.
You were grateful that he understood that they were only on the same side for now, since the men were looking for both of you. And besides, the fight between you two was only about you two.
Without any other unwanted guests.
Boothill chuckled at your sharp tone. He really loved the way you spoke.
"Yes, love."
He was sure that you would be okay, even after the adrenaline shot.
"Just give me a sign if you're gonna pass out." He said, his voice low and serious, before firing his weapon again, hitting another man in the head. You both made a pretty good team.
You smirked, knowing that he was trying to help you in his own way. It had been a long time since you had fought together like this.
Bullets and bullets continued to fly through the room. However, Boothill managed to keep his aim on the enemies.
As usual, It was almost admirable how he managed to keep his focus, despite the chaotic situation.
You could feel Boothill's gaze on you, watching your every move, but you didn't mention anything. You wanted to keep going, especially when the only thing in your mind was to get rid of these intruders. You took out a long dagger from your belt and quickly stabbed a guy in the stomach, then knocked him down with your weapon. You really were a skilled fighter when you want to and need to.
By your side, Boothill was doing a great job too, taking down man after man.
It was a constant back and forth, the sound of gunfire and loud cursing echoing in the room.
As more people entered the building, it became increasingly clear that you had to get out of there. Or also go up to the upper floors, since it was emptier there and there was more freedom to move.
Boothill's gaze was still fixated on your back, his eyes never leaving you. He wasn't going to let anything happen to you, even if that meant putting himself in the line of fire.
Of course, it was only because I wanted you alive to turn you in and get the reward, nothing more.
You could feel the adrenaline pumping through your body. Your movements were swift and precise, your years of training kicking in.
You had to admit that you had missed this. The adrenaline, the excitement, the teamwork.
You kept going, cutting and shooting anyone who got in your way. You were both moving almost as if your actions were perfectly synchronized. You both knew where the other would be, and you were always there to back each other up, even if the fighting was chaotic and brutal.
Despite the exhaustion you were facing, both mentally and physically, you found yourself enjoying the adrenaline. The thrill was almost addictive, and you loved it.
Boothill kept fighting back to back with you. Despite his cockiness, the two of you worked impressively well together. He was always right on your tail, shooting down anyone who dared get too close. Your fighting style was completely different from his, yet it complemented his perfectly.
As the adrenaline continued to race through the room, Boothill couldn't help but notice how skilled you were. Even with the injuries you had, you were still a force to be reckoned with. He grinned, relishing the thrill of the fight and the way you worked together.
"Not bad, sweetheart."
You were grateful that Boothill's ego wasn't affecting his performance. For a moment, you stopped fighting to reload your gun. However, that little break was enough for you to pay attention to Boothill.
His smirk was a sign that not only was he enjoying this fight, but he was enjoying fighting with you. At least you two made a great team.
"What? You're saying that to everyone or is it an exception?" You replied, a small smug smile crossing your lips. You knew that he could sense your own excitement, even amidst this chaos.
Boothill chuckled at your words, a smirk spreading on his lips.
"You're the exception, doll."
His response was casual, but his eyes betrayed his words. You could see the admiration in them, the appreciation for your skills and the way you fought. He had see and fought beside many people before, but there was something about battling with you that felt different.
As more enemies started pouring in, Boothill stepped closer to you, his metalic arm brushing against your shoulder. His body language was casual, as if he were simply standing next to you at a party rather than in the middle of a life-threatening fight.
"You enjoying yourself so far?" He asked, his voice low and taunting.
"As much as you, pretty boy." You said, smiling as you wiped your sweat with the blood of the dead men with the back of your hand.
Boothill grinned, feeling a familiar flare of attraction burning in his chest. Fighting with you like this—side by side, watching each other's backs—was something he thoroughly enjoyed. And he couldn't deny that it made him feel good, not just because you two worked well together, but because it gave him a glimpse of what could have been if things had been different between the two of you.
However, he shrugged off the thought, reminding himself that you weren’t going to be with him. It was just wishful thinking.
"You're right, I'm enjoying myself."
Soon, the room was full of the bodies of the other hunters.
You and Boothill had ascended from the 5th floor to the 9th floor of the building while fighting.
You felt a sense of relief flood over you as the adrenaline high wore off. Your whole body seemed to relax, but your heart was still racing from the fight. You had never been more exhausted in your life.
However, in the midst of your slight distraction, one of the intruders had moved closer, and he grabbed you by the side. You gritted your teeth in pain and slammed your elbow backwards, hearing him groan as you struck him in the nose.
As you quickly pushed him to the ground, Boothill took the opportunity to land a shot on his chest.
Once the room fell silent, you let out a deep breath, realizing that the danger was finally coming to an end. Just for a few seconds.
All those fools were on the ground, all dead.
As you took cover behind the table again, you held back a small moan. The effects of those injections were beginning to wear off, causing a sudden pain in your hip.
Boothill couldn't help but glance over at you, noticing your discomfort. He approached you slowly, his gaze fixed on your wound.
You couldn't help but chuckle softly as Boothill approached you.
"Now, about our little problem?" You said, your eyes narrowing towards him.
Boothill leaned down to inspect the wound, trying to assess the severity. However, he saw that the shot had only grazed her hip. It was a small wound, but it still had to be painful for you.
He looked up at you with a small smirk, which only angered you.
"It's nothing I cannot handle." You huffed, your face twisted in annoyance. You didn't like it when Boothill looked at you like that, as if you were incapable of handling pain.
"I'm fine." You muttered, pushing his hand away from you.
You tried to ignore the throbbing pain, but you knew it needed attention. You nodded reluctantly, allowing him to look at your injury.
"You're wounded," he stated, his tone neutral. "Again."
From his pocket he took out a lighter, with which he heated his metal fingers for a while until they reached a high temperature so that the wound would heal.
Since he did not consider it fair that they continued the fight if you were not at your 100% or at least 70%.
"Hold still, darlin'. This might sting a bit."
Boothill held his heated finger over the wound, the heat causing you to gasp from the pain. You inhaled deeply through your clenched teeth, clenching your fists to avoid crying out in pain.
Despite the pain, you could feel the heat slowly knitting together your skin, closing the wound.
You closed your eyes as you felt Boothill's grip to steady you so that he could do his work.
The pain was intense, but somehow you found yourself calming down.
After the heat had done its job, Boothill let go of your wounded hip. You exhaled deeply, relieved that the pain was finally gone. Not completely, but most of it.
He looked down at you, his gaze taking in the expression on your face. You were still slightly irritated from the look he had given you earlier.
"You’re a terrible patient," Boothill commented, his tone laced with a hint of teasing.
"Hah. Shut up."
After a few seconds in which you calmed down, you got up slowly, still with caution.
Their previous "truce" had already ended.
You knew it was dangerous to be around him now. So you put your hand on your gun, ready to pull it out at any moment.
You walked away slowly, not cornering yourself.
"Now…stay away."
Boothill chuckled as your words faded into the silence. It was almost amusing how you still couldn't see eye to eye. Yet, there was an undercurrent of respect in his eyes.
"As you wish," he muttered, his tone neutral. He lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender, though there was a gleam of mischief in his eyes.
You took a deep breath and moved closer to the exit, your hand wrapped tightly around the handle of your gun.
"We'd save the fight if you give up and let me take you with me." He grinned, his voice low and menacing as he leaned closer to you.
You were about to leave when Boothill's words stopped you in your tracks. You looked at him with a frown, refusing to take the bait.
"We both know I won't do that," you said firmly and in a amusing way, keeping your distance.
There was no way you were going to give up and let him turn you in just like that. You were both trained mercenaries, after all, and there was something in you that didn't want to lose to him, even if it meant risking your life.
Despite your attempts to hide it, you couldn't help but feel excited.
You knew that Boothill was a smart man, a cunning mercenary who never underestimated his prey. And he knew you were just as determined as he was.
His lips curved into a smirk, displaying his sharp teeth. He was clearly enjoying this game of cat and mouse, the thrill of the chase and the anticipation of the fight.
He was slowly approaching, you pulled out your gun, pointing it at him.
“I said not to—” You felt dizzy, unable to finish your sentence.
You fell directly to the ground, with no strength to move. It was the result of tiredness and the lack of adrenaline in your body.
'Shit,' you thought as you looked at your gun now on the ground, as well as listening to Boothill's footsteps.
It didn't take long for you to end up closing your eyes, passing out.
He crouched down next to you to check that you weren't dead.
But thankfully, he could see the slight rise of your chest, your breathing was slow and somewhat light. For a moment, he was terrified that you didn’t have one.
He felt a mixture of concern and victory, as he realized this was his chance to turn you in. He bent down, picking up your gun and then picking you up too.
He couldn't help but feel a tinge of disappointment, knowing that the fight had ended too soon.
He started to go down the stairs, with you in his arms, although he had you carrying you more like a sack of potatoes. A nice gesture from him.
Despite your body being limp and unresponsive, you could sense the movement and the sound of Boothill's footsteps. You couldn't open your eyes, so all you could do was think.
Your thoughts were a mess of anger and frustration. You hadn't anticipated that you would lose the fight this time. It was humiliating, and you couldn't believe that you had allowed yourself to get into this position.
You also cursed Boothill for being so quick and taking this chance. You were furious at yourself for not seeing it coming.
You wished that you could wake up right then and there. And that's what you did, you were forcing yourself to wake up.
You should have stayed in that building as long as you could.
Approximately 10 minutes passed, Boothill calmly descended the stairs.
In one of your attempts to wake up, you finally succeeded, although not completely since you were somewhat sleepy.
You remained still, as if you were still passed out.
Until, in one of those, with a metal bar that you managed to pick up days ago, you pushed it directly into the back of Boothill's metal legs.
In a way that he stumbles and in that way, letting go.
You fell to the ground again, your vision was still somewhat blurry but your instincts to escape were a little stronger.
You got up and started running down the stairs, going up again. Taking advantage of Boothill to remove the metal bar from his leg.
Boothill groaned as he felt the metal bar hit his legs and make him stumble. He wasn't expecting that sneaky move from you, even in your dazed state.
As he tried to regain his balance, he couldn't help but curse under his breath. Being immediately censored by his internal system.
How had he underestimated you that much? He had been careless and careless enough to let you slip away. He should have known better than to assume you were still unconscious.
His anger mixed with a sense of respect and admiration for your determination. He was both annoyed and impressed, both at you for escaping and at himself for letting you go.
You could hear him cursing behind you, which made the situation quite amusing. It was a bit of revenge for Boothill's actions.
With your blurred vision and half your body still not functioning properly, it was a challenge to run. Not to mention that your legs and arms felt like jelly.
You felt like you could faint at any moment, but anger kept you going. You pushed yourself to keep moving, though your movements were still somewhat slow.
You found solace in a room that led to a broken balcony.
You took a breath and took out your gun, which you picked up from one of the dead men on the ground, leaning against the wall and waiting for Boothill to arrive.
You were determined to end this once and for all, no more playing with each other.
You were going to kill him right then and there, but deep down, you hoped it wouldn't be necessary to do that.
Boothill gritted his teeth as he made his way up the stairs, his senses heightened as he anticipated your next move. He knew he had underestimated you and that you were clever enough to not make the same mistake twice. However, he couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement at the prospect of engaging in another fight.
As he reached the top of the stairs, he surveyed the room, his eyes quickly settling on you in the corner. He took a few moments to observe your stance, noticing the determination in your features and the gun pointed directly at him.
“Now this is an interesting change of pace,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
He knew he had to be careful with his movements, as any sudden action could result in a bullet in his brain. He took a slow step towards you.
"Are you sure you wanna do this, darlin'?" he asked, a hint of humor in his tone, "You seem a little out of it."
You responded, but not speaking, you shot trying to hit his forehead. However, he narrowly dodged the bullets.
By the time I wanted to shoot again, no bullet came out.
"Damn." You muttered, throwing the gun to the ground.
As he dodged your shots, Boothill chuckled, finding your determination admirable despite the fact that you ran out of bullets.
"Now, now, darlin'," he said, taking a step closer to you. "Just because you're out of bullets doesn't mean this is over."
His voice was laced with a mix of taunting and admiration as he continued to approach you, fully aware that you had no other means of defense.
"C'mere." He said, taking out his gun and pointing it at you, just in case you did something.
You rolled your eyes at his comment, annoyed at how he seemed to be enjoying this situation.
You took a deep breath, mentally steeling yourself for whatever might happen.
You weren't sure what you'd do next, but you knew you couldn't let him get away with this.
You took a step closer to him, your fists clenching and unclenching as you prepared yourself.
You raised your hands in surrender, as you approached him.
You knew you wouldn't last long in a physical fight against Boothill. He had experience, training, and an inhuman advantage given his abilities.
As you raised your hands in surrender, Boothill's eyes flickered with a hint of surprise, not expecting you to give in so easily.
He approached you with calculated steps, his gun still pointed at you. His gaze studied your movements and your expression, searching for any signs of deception.
"Smart choice," he said.
However, as he got closer, he noticed the fatigue and exhaustion in your eyes. He could see that despite your determination, you were not in the best shape to continue the fight.
He knew he had the upper hand, but he also saw a flicker of vulnerability in your eyes.
For your part, you were sure that you would regret this some time later. If everything went well, of course.
Being in front of him, just two steps away, you relaxed your face. Your pretty face and the old bond that both of you had before would have to be of some use.
Boothill noticed as you relaxed your face and softened your expression. He recognized the tactic immediately, as the tension in his jaw softened slightly.
He lowered his gun slightly, taking in the sight of you. The light that entered the room through the window illuminated your face, and for a moment, Boothill forgot about the current situation.
Bad decision he made.
"Can I…have a little time before you take me?" You asked, your face was one of resignation and some pity.
Boothill lowered his guard a little as he heard your request.
He could see the exhaustion in your eyes and the pleading look on your face.
He knew that he would easily fall into those sweet puppy eyes and that angelic voice.
He remained silent for a few seconds, still holding his gun, but more relaxed as he nodded.
"Just this time, but no funny business," he replied, a mix of caution and understanding in his voice.
You smiled internally, if that was possible.
Quickly and without him being able to react, you placed your hands on his face.
The only human part of his body he had left. You lightly caressed his cheeks, analyzing his eyes.
"It's been a long time since I looked into those pretty eyes again…" You spoke calmly.
Boothill froze when he felt your hands on his cheeks.
The feeling of your touch sent a series of electrical impulses and sensations through his artificial nerves, causing an involuntary shiver to run down his spine.
He was surprised at your bold move and the sudden display of affection. He couldn't hide the mix of confusion and a touch of discomfort in his expression, but he couldn't turn away from the warmth of your touch.
The sudden intimacy caught him off guard, and before he could react, he saw the vulnerability in your eyes and the hint of longing in your gaze.
"What are you…" he sputtered, taken aback by the unexpected gesture. He still kept his guard down, unsure of your intentions, but he didn't pull back.
Instead, he remained there, allowing you to touch his face.
You smiled softly, feeling like you had taken control of the situation.
"Oh, don't be like that…" You whispered, your thumb gently tracing the contours of his human skin.
"I just…" You paused, trying to find the right words. "I just missed seeing your pretty face."
You continued to explore his face with an almost careful touch, tracing the contours of his features with your fingertips. He noticed how your touch was gentle, almost reverential.
As if you were handling a work of art that could easily break.
"Tell me, Boothill," you spoke with an even tone. Your fingers moved slowly along his jaw and chin. He could feel the warmth of your touch and the way your touch tingled his skin. He noticed how your thumb brushed over his lips, tracing his lower lip.
He couldn't deny the fact that he had missed the feeling of your hands on his skin, even though he would never admit it out loud.
He could sense the nostalgia in your touch, and it was as if your touch awakened old memories buried deep within his circuits.
A feeling he had long forgotten.
"What are you planning, darlin'?" he managed to mutter, his voice laced with a mix of confusion and fascination.
You sighed lightly, before getting closer to his face.
"Can i…?" Your face was very close to his, a few centimeters away from touching his lips with yours.
He wanted to turn away, but he found himself powerless against the pull between you.
"Sweetheart…" he began, but his voice trailed off. He couldn't find the strength to push you away.
Or didn't want to, really.
But before he could say more, you had already pressed your lips against his.
Not exactly with much force, they barely brushed against each other.
And that was enough for you to quickly take away the weapon he had in his hand with a light blow.
You walked away from him quickly as a smile appeared on your lips, you must have been quick since he had a gun integrated into his hand.
As the realization dawned on him, Boothill's expression shifted from surprise to annoyance. He couldn't believe he had fallen for your little trick.
"Sneaky, aren't ya?" he said, his tone a mix of irritation.
Despite the temporary triumph, Boothill couldn't suppress a flicker of respect for your cunning and resourcefulness. He couldn't help but feel a mix of admiration and frustration at your ability to catch him off guard.
He knew you would try something, he thought you were just going to try to convince him not to hand you over, making those pretty eyes of yours. He really hadn't expected there to be that kind of intimacy involved.
You couldn't help but laugh when you saw his annoyed expression, you knew he wouldn't take it well.
You couldn't believe it had worked, you assumed he would have pushed you away, but not this time.
"You should be flattered, you're the only 'guy' I can do that to without being disgusted." You said in a sarcastic tone, your smile widening.
Boothill scoffed, his irritation growing even more. He felt a mixture of amusement and indignation at your words and your teasing smile.
"Flattered? Oh, how lucky I am," he retorted sarcastically. "I'm honored to be your exception. I feel privileged."
He tried to maintain a calm facade, but the hint of a grin betrayed his true feelings.
You were just as annoying as always.
And after the small conversation. You tried to be quick and back away enough to go to the floors below, through the balcony.
Because if you stayed there any longer, one of his bullets was going to hit you.
As you made your escape, Boothill cursed under his breath, realizing how effortlessly you had outsmarted him again.
"Smart little thing." he muttered, a begrudging respect in his tone. He couldn't help but acknowledge your quick thinking and resourcefulness.
Despite a hint of admiration, he couldn't shake the feeling that your actions only fueled the fire between you both.
From there, you couldn't estimate how long you were dodging and hiding from Boothill, occasionally shooting.
You knew it was night, because of the windows and balconies you passed, you still had to stay in the building.
The smell of gunpowder was strong. You were taking care of the few bullets you had, using the gun as limited as you could, just to protect yourself.
You didn't risk fighting him physically since you knew you would lose easily.
The tension was palpable in the air as your chase continued. You constantly managed to evade his shots, thanks to your resourcefulness and quick thinking.
You made full use of the environment, ducking and hiding behind cover whenever possible, and your marksmanship kept Boothill at bay. Despite your limited ammunition, you remained cautious and calculated with each shot, making every bullet count.
However, despite his physical advantage, he couldn't shake the lingering memory of your touch and the bittersweet taste lingering on his lips.
As he sprinted behind you, he muttered under his breath.
"You're playing a dangerous game, darlin'…"
As the night deepened, a sense of urgency fueled your every move, and Boothill's determination never wavered.
Every step you took, every corner you turned, brought you closer to exhaustion.
Boothill followed your path, his mind focused on his target. He navigated the building with purpose and determination.
With each step, he grew increasingly frustrated by your continued evasion. You were making him work harder than he anticipated.
"You can't run forever, sweetheart," he muttered under his breath, his voice laced with equal parts amusement and annoyance.
He was determined to catch you before sunrise, not knowing what would happen afterwards.
You took out your phone for a moment. You were behind a closet, so for a moment Boothill wouldn't be able to find you easily, or at least you hoped.
"Why the hell don't they respond?" You mumbled in annoyance, while looking at your phone.
No calls or messages were reaching your phone. The connection seemed unreliable, perhaps due to the location of the building or other interference. Whatever the reason, it added to your growing frustration.
As you stood there behind the closet, hidden from sight you took the moment of calmness to gather your thoughts.
You couldn't help but feel disgusted and a little humiliated at having to hide. It wasn't like you.
But you had no choice if you wanted to live or remain 'free'.
If it weren't for the fact that you had to stay in this building, you would already be far from this place. Maybe having a few drinks.
At that very moment, Boothill closed in on your location. His keen senses and intimate knowledge of your tactics allowed him to narrow down your position.
He approached the closet cautiously, his footsteps deliberately soft to avoid tipping you off. He stood on the other side of the door, mentally preparing for the moment of confrontation.
You made the big mistake of distracting yourself, getting internally upset by the situation and the lack of response on your phone.
As you stood behind the closet, your mind racing with frustration, you failed to notice the faint creak of a floorboard behind you.
Before you could react, Boothill appeared behind you, his presence like a shadow materializing out of thin air.
He pulled your leg back, thus preventing you from grabbing the weapon you had taken from him.
"Fuck!" You whirled around, your heart skipping a beat, only to find yourself facing him, a mischievous grin on his face.
"Hey darlin'," he teased, his voice laced with a hint of triumph, "I won."
He had you pinned to the ground. You were on your back and he had his hands on your wrists, along with his knees on your legs.
A mix of shock and anger filled you as you found yourself pinned to the ground by Boothill.
You struggled to break free from his grip, but his strength and body weight pinned you down, leaving you feeling helpless and exposed.
"Let go of me, prick!" You growled through clenched teeth, squirming and trying to wriggle out of his grip.
But your efforts were met with a chuckle from Boothill as he tightened his hold on your wrists,
"Now, now, easy there, sweetheart. You lost. That means you're in my hands now."
You glared up at him, your body tensed with defiance. Despite your best efforts to break free, his grip remained firm and unyielding. The power imbalance was evident, leaving you in a vulnerable position.
"You won, big deal," you muttered through gritted teeth, trying to hide the mix of frustration and fear that threatened to surface. Boothill smirked, enjoying the sight of your helplessness.
He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a softer yet slightly mocking tone, "Ah, but you do look rather cute like this, darlin'."
You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his words.
"You're playing dirty." You spoke, your brow furrowing a little. You had already stopped trying to get away because you knew it was useless at that moment.
"Oh, me? Playing dirty?" He shifted his weight slightly, pressing his knee more firmly against your thigh.
He continued, his tone laced with a hint of teasing, "if I recall, there was a rather intimate moment not long ago that involved your pretty face and my lips.”
"That was different," you muttered defiantly. "You were stunned. I merely took advantage."
Boothill laughed softly, clearly amused by your attempt to justify your actions.
"Ah, so you admit to playing dirty, eh?" His grip relaxed slightly.
"Mhm, maybe." You said as you let out a sigh.
Boothill leaned in even closer, his voice dropping to a low, suggestive whisper.
"Let's say I am feeling a bit generous tonight." He paused, taking a moment to admire your features. "And the sight of you under me isn't half bad too."
He shifted his position slightly, his body pressing against yours with a bit more weight. The intensity of the moment seemed to thicken the air around you.
"Woah, relax." You spoke, raising an eyebrow with some amusement.
"Oh and, could you let me go?" You made reference to your wrists. "It's not like I could run away or anything." You continued, laughing somewhat bitterly.
Boothill maintained his grip on your wrists for a few seconds before finally releasing his hold, allowing you some freedom of movement. However, he kept you pinned to the ground with the weight of his body.
He remained silent for a moment, his mind working quickly as a slightly cocky, playful smile crept across his face, just like the cat who caught the mouse.
"There you go, darlin'," he said, his tone holding a subtle edge of mocking.
You moved a little on the ground, rubbing your wrists where his grip had left marks.
You internally lamented your immersive defeat.
Things didn't go as well as you planned.
"Okay, you can hand me over." You spoke, rolling your eyes. You weren't even going to try to escape, there was no chance of that.
A flicker of something you couldn't quite identify flashed across Boothill's eyes.
He stayed put, still holding you in place, his mind processing your words. He shifted his weight slightly, his gaze studying your facial expressions and demeanor, reading the subtle body language.
He thought, pondering your words and trying to gauge your sincerity.
"Just like that?" he asked, skepticism creeping into his voice. "No more fight, darlin'?
Boothill raised an eyebrow, amused by your surrender.
"Now, that's the first time I've heard you agree to surrender." He chuckled, taking a moment to appreciate the spectacle of you being the one to submit.
He leaned in closer.
"You're quite the sight to behold when you're not fighting back, you know that?"
With a swift motion, he gently grasped your chin between his thumb and index finger, gently lifting your face to meet his gaze once again.
"Take a picture, those last longer." You spoke, smirking at the way he was looking at you and talking.
Boothill paused momentarily, his smile growing wider at your challenging comment.
"Oh, don't tempt me, darlin'," he replied, his tone dripping with amusement. "But now that you mention it…"
He pulled out his phone, swiftly unlocking it. He hovered over the camera mode, teasing you with the possibility of capturing the moment.
"Maybe I should take a picture of you, just like this." He teased, the camera open and pointed at you.
His thumb lightly caressed your lower lip, a tender touch that contrasted with his cocky attitude.
As he stood there, phone in hand, Boothill's expression turned from playful to focused. He carefully analyzed your demeanour.
His gaze then softened slightly as he leaned in, his eyes never leaving yours. His touch sending a shiver down your spine.
You couldn't help but feel a hint of vulnerability as he looked at you.
You rolled your eyes, trying to disguise the shiver that ran down your spine as his thumb gently traced your lower lip, though you failed miserably.
You tried not to react, but his touch was strangely and unusually arousing, given the current situation.
As the moment lingered, his thumb still gently brushed over your lower lip, you felt a strange mix of sensations - a combination of a warm feeling and annoyance.
"Go ahead and take it," you replied finally, your tone slightly sarcastic. "It's not like I can stop you."
You leaned in slightly. The atmosphere grew thick with unspoken desires.
Boothill paused for a moment, his gaze flickering to your lips before returning to your eyes.
With your sarcastic reply granting permission to take the picture, Boothill wasted no time in capturing the moment with his phone.
He snapped a shot of your defiant yet slightly flustered expression, the phone's camera preserving the unexpected and somewhat amusing moment.
He glanced down at the screen to view the picture, a cocky smile stretching across his lips.
"Oh my, aren't ya a sight for sore eyes," he teased, his tone laced with a hint of amusement.
As he spoke, his thumb continued to gently trace over your lip, almost affectionately.
Boothill's eyes met your gaze, their gazes locked while he slowly leaned closer.
He hovered for a few seconds.
"You look beautiful, darlin' you really do."
His other hand moved to cup your cheek, he wished he could have felt the warmth of your skin on his fingers.
He closed his eyes and brought his head closer to yours. The tension in the room thickened as the distance between your lips grew shorter.
Without a second thought, Boothill leaned down, his lips meeting yours in a heated kiss that expressed all the passion and tension that had been building between you.
You felt a rush of warmth and desire flood your senses. The last time they were this intimate was how long ago… maybe 8 years ago? You don't keep track of that much.
The kiss intensified. His tongue gently licked the edge of your lower lip, seeking permission to deepen it further.
Your body responded instinctively, parting your lips and granting him access. The taste of him was like nectar to your senses.
The world around you seemed to disappear as the kiss deepened, filled with a rush of emotions that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long.
Your focus entirely on the sensation of his tongue exploring your mouth. Your body responded shamelessly, your hands moving up to caress his head, fingers gently tangling in his hair.
Boothill's hand shifted from your cheek to cup the back of your head, his grip firm yet gentle.
He pulled you closer, the heat between you growing more intensely.
You knew in the back of your mind that it was wrong.
And yet, it felt so right. You couldn't help but submit yourself to the overwhelming desire that consumed you both.
The world beyond the walls of this room faded into insignificance. Your whole world condensed into the warmth and sensation of his body pressed against yours.
Finally, the need for air forced you to pull away, breaking the kiss as you gasped for breath.
You both remained in that position for a few lingering moments, your foreheads resting against each other. The cold air hit your wet lips, causing a small shiver of sensation. The kiss had left your mind and senses in a hazy, pleasant fog.
The sound of your heartbeats echoed loudly in your ears, as if they were trying to convey the depth of your feelings in that moment.
The realisation of what had just happened sank into your brain. The complexity of emotions flooding your mind was overwhelming. Mixed feelings of contentment, excitement, and… love overwhelmed your body.
It took all your self-control to not immediately kiss him again.
The silence in the room was deafening. Boothill spoke first in a low voice, trying to lighten the mood with a teasing tone.
"You taste sweeter than I remember."
His voice brought you back to reality, his usual teasing and cocky demeanour returning. You tried to respond to his teasing comment, but your mind was still reeling from the intensity and the overwhelming mix of emotions.
Without thinking, you replied, "Shut your mouth, Boothill."
A small smirk formed on your lips as you realised how natural the banter between the two of you was.
You pulled away from his grip, rolling your body away from his. You were still on the ground, but you kept a bit of distance between each other. You brought a hand to your lips, tracing over them softly as you looked away.
You were stuck in your thoughts, you were scolding yourself for letting your emotions control your body.
Until, a click echoed in your brain. Despite the sweet and intimate moment you knew Boothill wouldn't change his mind. Yes or yes he would turn you in and claim the reward. At least without killing you, but he would still turn you in.
Instantly, you looked over, just in time to see Boothill looking at you. But what took your breath away was the sight of something you hadn't noticed before. His hand hovered over the shiny metal of his holstered gun, his fingers casually toying with the smooth surface.
You didn't really notice when he picked up the gun you took from him.
"You forgot something, darlin', didn't ya?"
He slowly placed his hand over the grip, drawing the gun from his holster with a casual grace that masked a sense of danger. His gaze remained fixed on you, his eyes gleaming with a mix of cockiness and a hint of something more complex you would never admit to yourself.
You knew I wouldn't kill you, I was just going to knock you out. You wouldn't allow that anyway.
But you couldn't escape at that moment.
He managed to mumble something you barely managed to hear. ‘Sorry, sweetcheeks.’
A rush of adrenaline shot through your veins as you realised his intent. Your heartbeat intensified, pounding in your ears as you braced yourself for what was about to happen.
Your body acted of its own accord, quickly pulling out a small knife you had stored in your leg.
You couldn't even make a plan. You panicked at the thought of killing him, but there was nothing you could do. It was your life or his.
You instinctively raised your hand to defend yourself as the fear took over. You were going straight for his throat. His gaze met yours, and his expression shifted.
He narrowly managed to move aside, only cutting a little of the skin on his neck, superficially.
What you did manage to cut, however, was his nice long hair.
He also acted on instinct, as he saw you moving in the direction of cutting his neck, he ended up using the gun he had attached to his arm, as he had the other gun in his other arm. Shooting you directly in the right leg. It went through it instantly.
Your eyes widened, and a sharp scream escaped your lips as the pain coursed through your body. The shock of the injury made the room spin, and you felt a sense of dread as you realised the severity of the wound.
The adrenaline and the pain temporarily numbed your ability to think clearly.
Instinctively, you dropped your knife and reached down to your wounded leg, clutching at the wound in an attempt to stem the blood flow. The fear and pain overwhelmed your senses, your breath quickening and your heart pounded loudly.
You gritted your teeth against the pain, struggling to gather your senses.
Meanwhile, Boothill stood there, his eyes widened in shock as he heard the sound of the ringing gunshot. The teasing smirk replaced by a mix of surprise and a touch of guilt. He glanced at the gun in his hand, as if it had betrayed him.
The realization of what he had done hit him like a ton of bricks, and the expression on his face reflected his inner turmoil as he watched your pain.
The silence in the room was deafening, both of you frozen in disbelief. The atmosphere was heavy with the lingering smoke and the weight of the situation.
"I'm sorry, darlin' I was just reacting" he mumbled in a low voice, his tone tinged with disbelief and self-reproach.
He stood up, as he ran his metal hand over his face.
He tried to pull himself together, thinking about what he was initially supposed to do, to hand you over to those who were looking for you.
He turned his gaze back to you, you were with your head fixed on the ground, or rather on the wound you were holding with both hands.
You definitely wouldn't die for that, but it felt strange to see you like that. In passing he also saw much of his hair on the ground, which was cut by you.
He frowned a little at that sight as he turned away for a while, taking out his phone for a while.
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice filled with remorse. "It was just-"
As he turned back to you, his expression was a mixture of guilt, and something else you couldn't quite identify, changed completely.
He could not believe his eyes.
You were no longer clutching your wound. Now you were standing near the broken balcony. Leaning on your left leg.
While your right leg that was wounded, now showed, thanks to you cutting off that part of your trousers, that your leg was no longer flesh and blood. It was also made of metal.
And the blood that was supposedly coming out of the wound, was from your hands, which in an oversight of his, you managed to cut off a little bit to make it look totally real.
Boothill's eyes widened in disbelief and a mix of shock and confusion, the phone in his hand almost slipping out.
His mind struggled to process the sudden turn of events, the revelation leaving him frozen in place.
He stood there, his eyes fixed on your leg, the same one that had wounded moments ago, now revealed to be metallic.
You're not going to lie, it really hurt when he shot your leg. The nerves you had connected there hurt like never before, that's why your pain looked so real.
It was funny to see his face, full of surprise and confusion.
"Surprise, muddle fudger!" You said, while smiling.
Without giving him a chance to answer you, you stepped backwards over the balcony, falling to catch hold of some kind of rope. You mentally thanked a certain blonde boy and a certain white-haired girl for arriving at the best time.
As you flew away in a sort of helicopter, you couldn't help but notice Boothill, who was more than a little shocked and static in his place.
With your free hand, you blew a kiss into the air in his direction.
Oh, you really loved that man, along with his cute and funny reactions.
©cherrylovelycherry do not repost, copy, translate, modify
#honkai star rail#boothill#hsr x reader#hsr boothill#boothill x reader#boothill x you#boothill x y/n#hsr#honkai x reader#honkai sr#hsr x you#hsr x gender neutral reader#hsr fanfic#honkai star rail boothill#boothill hsr
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✦ pairing: bada lee x fem!reader
✦ summary: you long for excitement in your mundane life, until you are suddenly visited by a strange, beautiful woman who upends your world and thrusts you into a whirlwind of pleasure and danger.
✦ genre/au: smut (MDNI!!), succubus!bada, basically pwp
✦ word count: 6k
✦ warnings: probably has grammatical/spelling errors, mentions of demons and occult activities, top!bada (she's doing all the work), fingering, cunnilingus, bit of thigh riding, y/n is a weakling, somebody dies (or do they?)
✦ a/n: this is very different from other fics I've written, in genre and length, because after watching bebe's imagination video on repeat, i decided to temporarily drop the other fic i was working on to write this! we will be getting back to the more simple (and long) fics I've written before, but i hope you guys still enjoy this in the meantime! i purposely left this open-ended in case i, or you guys, wanted to see a continuation of this story at some point. lmk if that would be of interest to y'all!
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Beyond the restaurant windows, rain pounds against the earth. The rhythmic drumming of the rain lulls you into a trance-like state, eyes glossing over and body becoming numb. The soft jazz music coming from the speakers overhead only enhances your drowsiness, making you melt into your seat like heated wax. You rest your chin in the palm of your hand and stare out at the street, watching cars pass by and disappear into the darkness. Your eyelids become heavy and you blink, attempting to bring your attention back to the real world, and, probably most importantly, the person in front of you.
You sigh, slouching forward in your chair. Your date, Seolhyun, has been droning on for the last twenty minutes about her schoolwork. Her mouth is moving, but your mind isn't registering her words. You can't bring yourself to care. She seems somewhat nice, and she's devastatingly pretty, but those were about the only two qualities of value that you could conjure up. This wouldn't have been so bad, if this date hadn't essentially turned into a one-sided conversation she was having with herself. You don't think you've said more than three words since the both of you sat down.
"Like, nursing is so boring and depressing. I don't get why so many people are into it," she says, taking a bite of her food. "I want to do something interesting and fresh, like, modeling, or something. Or, maybe I'll switch my major to art. I take really good pictures of my friends. Isn't there a photography concentration in the arts program?"
Seolhyun looks over at you expectantly, waiting for your input. You have no idea what the answer is, so you just shrug and give her a fake, tight-lipped smile.
"Yeah, you know what? I think I'm gonna talk to my advisor tomorrow. It's just that my dad is the problem. Whenever I talk to my dad he's like, nooooo. That's not what I've been sending you money for. He's so old fashioned."
"Oh," you respond, your voice monotone. There is a part of you that can't help but feel a little bad about zoning out and ignoring her, but you've had your fill of boring conversations about family and school and life aspirations. This was nothing new.
She slams one of her hands on the table, making you jump so high you nearly knock your glass of water over.
"And it's silly because he's the one who wanted me to go to college sooo badly, so how are you going to complain about paying for it? Its like—and not to sound like a cunt—we do pretty well for ourselves. I don't need to be the moneymaker! I get he wants me to be the head nurse at the hospital he owns, but honestly, fuck that hospital. Fuck the patients too!" she continues, her voice raised loud enough to capture the attention of the nearby tables. You can feel their eyes on you, and a wave of embarrassment washes over you. You glance around the room, trying not to make eye contact with anyone, slowly sliding down in your seat.
"He's just...he's such a hardass. Doesn't let me do anything. It's a real shame," she finishes, huffing in annoyance.
You nod. "Right, it is a real shame." you mumble, still avoiding others' judgemental gazes.
She doesn't seem to notice how uncomfortable you've become, or the attention that she's gathering. Instead, she grins."I know! I'm so glad you get it."
The only thing you're getting is murderous. You needed to get out of here, quickly. As if hearing your internal cries for help, the waiter appears, asking if the two of you would like to see the dessert menu. You shake your head.
"Oh, no. Just the check please," you say, glancing up at him.
Seolhyun nods in agreement. "Yeah, I'm done. This salad was kinda trash. No offense. Sorry." She picks up her napkin and dabs it at her mouth.
The waiter grimaces. "No problem. I'll be right back."
As the waiter walks off, you turn back to Seolhyun, forcing yourself to smile. She jumps right back into her complaints, albeit more quietly, and fidgets with the stem of her wine glass. You tune her out again, no longer feeling guilty for doing so. The only thing that brings your attention back to reality is the waiter setting the bill face-down on the table. He bids you both goodnight before walking off, and when you look up, you almost want to laugh.
A guilty expression flashes across Seolhyun's face, and she leans over the table, looking at the check. She clears her throat, and you already know what she's about to say.
"Do you have your card on you? Sorry, I think I left mine at home. I'll totally venmo you after this." She laughs awkwardly, sitting back in her seat.
You roll your eyes, but reach for your wallet. "Whatever."
After dinner, the two of you step out of the restaurant and into the rain, huddling under the overhang as you try to find an escape from the downpour.
"Well, it was nice chatting with you, y/n," she says, stepping towards the edge of the overhang. "Hope we can hang out again soon."
"Yeah, definitely," you lie.
"Awesome! Talk to you later, then." She smiles, and you know she's lying too.
Seolhyun walks out into the rain and you watch as she crosses the street, heading toward a pink Tesla.
"Bitch," you murmur bitterly, pulling your hood over your head.
You don't want to spend money on an Uber, and the walk to the nearest bus stop isn't very far, so you decide to trek through the rain, praying that the bus won't take long. You zip up your coat and adjust your hood, stepping out into the rain. The cold pelts against your face and seeps through the material of your clothes, causing goosebumps to break out on your skin. You curse, and pull your arms close to your body, walking faster. The streetlamps lining the road provide enough light for you to see where you're going despite the dark clouds overhead, their glow casting an orange glow against the pavement.
As you walk, your thoughts turn back to your disastrous date. You didn't mean to act like such an ass, but it was impossible not to when the entire evening had consisted of her talking about herself and how difficult her life was. The worst part is, she actually seemed to think you were a good listener, even with your blank stares and monosyllabic responses.
Deep down, you know that it's not entirely Seolhyun's fault. Today felt like a culmination of all the ways you've been failing lately. In short, it's been a bad week. A bad month. A bad year. At all points, you've felt as though there was no escape from the dullness of your life, like you were being suffocated, drowned in a pool of water with no way to save yourself. These were your college years, and you came to the realization last year that all you've been doing was sitting in your room, studying, going to class, and then going home. No parties, no drama, no adventures, no romance, nothing. Even worse, it seemed like everyone else had already started their lives and were living them. It was infuriating, seeing everyone around you have fun, while you were stuck in this weird limbo of mediocrity.
In attempts to find some excitement, you downloaded a dating app and started going out more, meeting people, but so far, all the dates have ended up being like this. Boring, or just plain awkward. You've tried to make changes—different clothes, makeup, hair—anything to shake things up, and while that was nice and made you feel pretty, it didn't change the fact that your life was still dull. And now, you're just exhausted, constantly feeling like you're going through the motions.
Nothing has worked. This was probably the tenth horrible date you've been on in two months. Maybe, this was just your life now, and you had to come to terms with it. Bland, and as bleak as the clouds overhead.
Which seem to have gotten even darker, you notice, as you approach the bus stop. You stand underneath the shelter, rubbing your hands together and blowing on them. The streets are completely deserted. You shiver, your damp clothes clinging to your skin, and hug yourself tightly, trying to keep warm. You try to look for any sign of the bus, but the rain is coming down too hard, the air is heavy with fog, and you can't see further than a few feet away. A prickle of fear runs down your spine. You didn't even think to check if the buses were running late. What if they're not running at all?
Just as you reach for your phone to check the time, you hear the screeching of bus brakes and let out a sigh of relief. You're saved.
You stand at the edge of the sidewalk, watching as the bus slowly pulls up in front of the stop. The door opens and you step inside, moving as quickly as you can. The warm air instantly hits your face, but the heat does nothing to thaw the chill that has set in your bones.
You pay the driver and walk to the back, taking a seat near the window. The bus is nearly empty, save for an old woman and a couple of teenagers sitting towards the front.
You pull your phone out of your pocket and plug in your earbuds. Music starts playing, drowning out the noise of the rain and the rumble of the engine.
After a few stops, the bus reaches your destination and the doors open, the sound of the rain pouring down and the wind blowing in, bringing with it a cool breeze. You get off, and begin the trek home, your sneakers splashing through puddles as you make your way down the street.
The wind picks up, the gusts blowing hard enough to cause the street lamps to flicker and sway. They cast shadows against the ground and walls of the buildings, which appear and disappear in the blink of an eye. The rain comes down harder, falling in thick, heavy sheets. You quicken your pace, the muscles in your legs burning as you move, your heart rate quickening.
Finally, your apartment building comes into view. You run, sprinting the last block and darting up the steps, the water squishing between your toes. Excitement blooms in your chest as you grab the door handle and pull it open, the prospect of a dry place to lay your head making you feel better.
As soon as you cross the threshold of your building, you pull your hood down, the smell of mildew hitting your nose. Your shoes squeak against the wet floor, and you leave a trail of water droplets and mud as you head toward the elevator.
The ride up is excruciatingly slow. You tap your foot impatiently, watching the numbers climb, and think about the warm bed that's awaiting you, how good it'll feel to wrap yourself in a blanket and forget about this miserable night. If your roommate allows it.
Once your mind drifts to her, your excitement dwindles. Fatigue weighs heavy on your shoulders, and you long for nothing more than to be asleep in the comfort of your own bed, but you know it's a rubbish wish, thanks to Aeri.
Recently, home hasn't been particularly enjoyable either. You used to have a roommate who didn't bother you. Then, she dropped out, and you were stuck with rent, an empty room, and the task of finding a new roommate. It was a difficult process, with most candidates seeming creepy or annoying or gross. Then, you ran into Aeri, who was by no means a perfect match, but seemed good enough. She was a bit awkward, and you didn't really know what to make of the intense gothic attire she was sporting during your initial meeting. She seemed incredibly nice and easygoing, though, and she smelled good. Was that not all you needed? So, running out of time, you swallowed your apprehension and gave her the spare keys to your apartment.
For the most part, you didn't regret your decision. She was, in fact, one of the sweetest, most caring people you've ever met, frequently baking treats for you when she knew you were having a particularly terrible day and listening to you vent about your dating diasters. But, there were a few small issues that had cropped up, and they happened to occur most often at night.
Your stomach does flip-flops the higher the numbers get, until, finally, the elevator dings, and the doors open. You shuffle out into the hall, pulling out your keys and heading toward the apartment. When you're in front of the door, you hesitate, the key hovering in the air as you stare at the peephole. You take a deep breath and push the door open, the smell of incense instantly hitting your nose as you step inside of the dark apartment. You slip off your wet shoes and hang your jacket up on your worn-out coat rack.
"I'm back," you call, closing the door behind you. You step further into the apartment and glance around as you walk into the living room, where you are met with a sight you're not prepared for.
Your eyes squint to adjust to the dark and take in the scene before you. The air is thick and heavy, engulfed by the scent of a sweet, intoxicating perfume. Candles are placed throughout the space, their warm glow casting shadows on the wall. Aeri kneels in the middle of the living room, wearing a cloak, her hands hovering above an intricate pentagram on the floor. She mumbles something to herself that you cannot understand, her eyes closed. Her hair falls over her face and her lips move, but no words are uttered.
"Aeri, what are you doing?" you ask, taking a tentative step forward.
Aeri's head snaps up, her eyes wide, and the mumbling stops.
"Oh, hey, you're back," she says, her tone a bit nervous. Her hands tremble as she moves the hood of her cloak back. "Sorry, I didn't know you'd be back so soon. I was just—uh—you know."
"No, actually. I don't. What are you doing?" You repeat, folding your arms in front of you.
She looks around the room, before returning her gaze to you. "Uh...meditating?"
And this was the problem. Shortly after Aeri moved in, she brought her witchy occult shit with her. You don't really believe in any of it, so you typically ignore her and carry on with your day when you see her pull out one of her spellbooks at the dinner table. Except for days like this, when she goes too far, gets too loud, and keeps you up at night with her antics. Then, she becomes public enemy number one.
You glare at her. "With a pentagram on the floor? Please. This is..."
You pause, scanning the room again. There's something particularly wrong today, but you can't quite place it. There's heaviness in the air, a heightened version of the feeling you get when you're in a haunted house, except there are no clowns or people cosplaying as serial killers, just candles and a pentagram and Aeri, staring up at you.
"Bizarre. This is bizarre. Even for you." you finish, narrowing your eyes. "What's going on?"
"Nothing!" She squeaks, her voice strained. "I was just...doing some reading about a spell that could, uh. Fix a problem that I’ve been having. I decided to try it out today"
You pinch the bridge of your nose and let out an exasperated sigh. You're tired. Your hair is drenched. Your shirt is clinging to your back. You couldn't be bothered with this.
"Listen, I don't think I actually care about what you have going on. But, I have an exam tomorrow, I've had a rough day, and I need some rest. Can you promise to keep it down in here while I sleep?"
Aeri looks around, a guilty expression on her face, before nodding her head. "Sure, yeah. No problem. I’m sorry."
"Thank you," you say, and turn on your heels without another word.
You make your way through the hallway and enter your bedroom, shutting the door behind you.
Your room is dark and cold, but you can't bother to turn the lights on or get under the covers. Instead, you lay down on the bed, your limbs splayed out. Your hair is still wet, and you can feel the moisture seeping into your comforter, but you can't even think to move.
You're too tired to bother changing into your pajamas. Too tired to do anything but sleep. So, you shove off your socks and rain-soaked jeans and call it a day. You crawl into bed, pulling the blankets over your body until they rest just below your chin. The warmth envelopes you and you're finally able to relax. You stare up at the ceiling, watching the fan spin slowly, praying for a peaceful night's rest. Lately, you've been plagued by strange dreams you can't remember when you wake up. Although they've been forgetful, they usually keep you tossing and turning in your sleep throughout the night. But, tonight, your eyelids are so heavy you can barely keep them open, and within seconds, you drift off into unconsciousness, the world slipping away and the darkness consuming you. The smell of Aeri's incense and the sound of the rain lulls you into a slumber unlike never before, submerged into a dark void of nothing.
That is, until you feel something touch you. You awaken with a start, jolting upright in your bed, your heart racing. The room is dark, illuminated only by the light of the moon shining through the window. You glance around frantically, searching for the source of the touch, but there's nothing, no sign of life. Just shadows, and the sound of your breathing. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. It's probably just the wind or an insect. You're tired, and your deteriorating mind is playing tricks on you. There's nothing to be scared of.
You lay back down, pulling the blankets up to your chin, and take a deep breath, closing your eyes. Your heartbeat begins to slow, and you exhale, trying to relax. A few minutes pass, and you begin to drift off once again, when, suddenly, you feel something against your neck. A cold, soft pressure. Like a feather, brushing across your skin.
"Y/N." A soft, gentle voice whispers.
Your eyes flutter open, and you are met with the sight of a woman's face, inches away from yours. You gasp and shoot up again, nearly slamming your forehead against hers. The woman backs away, allowing you to regain your bearings. You blink a few times, shaking your head to try to wake yourself up, but she remains., staring at you with an expression that could only be described as amused.
The moonlight streams in through the window, giving the woman's figure an almost ethereal glow. You've never seen her before. She has a stupefying, otherworldly, beauty about her, with dark eyes and full lips that accentuate her sharp jawline. She's wearing a black, silky nightgown that clings to her body. Her pale, delicate-looking skin shines in the moonlight, and her dark hair, interlaced with another color, cascades down her back, falling over her shoulders.
You look around the room, expecting the lights to turn on and an elaborate prank to be revealed, but the room is just as dark and empty as you remember. When your eyes fall back onto the woman, she is staring back at you, a soft smile on her face.
"Who the fuck are you?" you force out, your voice trembling.
She quirks an eyebrow, tilting her head to the side. "Were you not expecting me?"
You scoff, nearly choking on your own saliva. "No! Of course not. I've never seen you before in my life. What the hell is going on? And how do you know my name?"
Her eyes light up with mirth, and her smile widens as if she's in on some sort of joke.
"Oh, this is interesting," she starts, clasping her hands together. "This is very interesting."
As a primal fear takes hold of your body, interesting is the last word that comes to your brain to describe the situation you've found yourself in. Albeit hot, this random woman broke into your apartment to do God knows what to you and your belongings. Who knows if she's already murdered Aeri. Or, perhaps, this is a lucid dream, and you're experiencing some sort of weird hallucination. Either way, you wanted out. Now.
You release a shaky exhale in a poor attempt to calm your nerves. "I'm gonna call the cops, okay? But, I really don't want any trouble. If you leave now, I won't tell anyone about this."
The woman stares at you for a moment, her expression unreadable, before erupting into a fit of laughter. You blink, unsure of how to proceed. She continues to laugh, her hand clutching her chest as her whole body shakes. The sound is melodic, and it rings out like the chimes of a bell, the notes flowing effortlessly into the air. It's almost enchanting, and you find yourself lost in the melody until she quiets down and straightens up, a soft smile on her face.
"That's completely unnecessary. I'm not here to cause you any harm, Y/N," she says, and, somehow, her voice is even more hypnotic than her laugh. Some of your fear dissipates, but the confusion remains.
"Why are you here, then?" you question, unable to keep the suspicion out of your tone.
"To give you a little bit of help. I know you've been struggling." She replies, her voice dripping with sympathy.
"How do you know that?"
She smiles, the expression making her features seem even more radiant than before. "I know a lot of things. 'How' is irrelevant. What's more important is that I know exactly how I can help you tonight. You need...a stress reliever. I can do that for you. If you're up for it, that is."
"A stress reliever?" You echo, and the way her eyes sparkle in the moonlight, her lips quirked up in a seductive smirk, her voice low and smooth, makes it abundantly clear what she's implying. Your cheeks flush and heat rushes through your body. This couldn't be real. Could it?
"I don't think we're on the same page. I mean, a...stress reliever. I don't know if I understand," you say, shifting uncomfortably.
"You're a bit slow, aren't you?" she asks a devilish grin stretching across her face, and, she's probably right. You feel like a fish out of water, opening and closing your mouth like an idiot. The worst part of it is, she seems to be enjoying your floundering, grinning wider as she watches you stutter.
"There's no need to worry," she purrs, taking a step closer, her dark eyes shining. "You just need to relax. It'll be fun."
The sane, rational part of your brain is screaming, yelling, begging for you to run out of the room. Anybody with half a brain could decipher that the sensible thing to do in this situation would be to flee, grab a weapon, and call the police. Yet, here you are, lying still, the woman's words ringing in your ears. Fun. It's been a long time since you've had fun. You can't even remember the last time you've gotten remotely close to it. And, as if she was sent from above, here was a beautiful, mysterious woman, offering it to you on a platter. You can't help but be a bit curious. Curious about the strange, magical feeling that's coursing through your veins.
Plus, your body is aching for touch, and the idea of sleeping with a beautiful woman is incredibly tempting, especially in your state. It's been months since you've had sex.
The woman takes a step closer, and your stomach does a flip. This is stupid. It's dangerous, and stupid, and it would be so easy to say no.
"You won't hurt me, right?" You ask, a nervous edge creeping into your voice.
"You'll enjoy every second we spend together," she says, her eyes stroking over you. Her gaze is so intense, her voice so soothing, all you want is to please her. You don't think. You no longer have the ability to. Your desire is too strong.
"What are you going to do?" you ask, the words tumbling out of your mouth.
"That depends on you," she says, her fingers brushing the edge of the duvet. "What would you like me to do?"
You look into her dark, all-consuming eyes, and shiver. Your blood feels like it's on fire. "I—um—whatever you had in mind."
Her eyes narrow, her lips curling up into a smirk. She leans in, her warm breath ghosting your lips. You can smell her perfume, the scent of vanilla and lavender assaulting your senses.
Your heart beats fast, and you can't help the small whimper that escapes your throat.
"Are you sure?" she says, her voice low. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into."
She's right. For all you knew, her idea of fun could include a knife and a casket. But you couldn't bring yourself to care, not when she's looking at you like that.
"I don't care," you say, your voice hoarse. "Do whatever you want with me."
The corners of her lips curl upwards, and her eyes twinkle with mischief. "Okay," she whispers, her voice soft and sweet.
She leans forward, her lips ghosting yours. You hold your breath, anticipating her next move. Her hand moves up to cup your cheek, her thumb rubbing small circles on your skin that send a tingle down your spine. You lean into the touch, and her smile widens. She tilts her head to the side, and presses a kiss to the corner of your lips. The contact is soft, tender, and sweet. Her lips are warm, and the touch is brief, but enough to ignite the flames within your veins. You gasp, moving your head to try to capture her lips with yours, and she chuckles, pulling away.
"You're so impatient," she says, her eyes gleaming. "Desperate, even."
Embarrassment creeps up on you, and you flush, averting your gaze. She laughs again, and grabs your chin, forcing you to look at her.
"Don't hide from me," she whispers, her voice soft. "There's nothing wrong with wanting something."
With her words, the fire within you flares, and the embers within your belly burst into an inferno. Your whole body is burning, yearning, and you can't help the sigh that escapes your throat. She hums, staring at you with her piercing gaze. You've never felt this exposed, so vulnerable, so completely bare in front of another person, and you are still partially clothed. She seems to be studying you, taking in every detail, memorizing the expressions on your face. She's looking at you like you're prey, a feast, and it should scare you, should make you tremble, but it doesn't.
"Kiss me," you murmur, and she obeys.
You let out a small gasp, and her lips curve into a smile against yours as you make contact. Your eyes flutter shut, and the warmth of her mouth almost sends you spiraling. The feeling is electric, like a bolt of lightning, and it sets every nerve ending within your body alight. Her tongue glides along your bottom lip, and you part them willingly, allowing her all of the access she desires. Her tongue is warm, and wet, and her kisses are intoxicating. She tastes sweet, like strawberries and vanilla, and you can't help but moan.
She pulls away, prompting an involuntary whimper from you."Is this what you wanted, y/n?"
"Yes—uh," you stop yourself, realizing that you still don't know her name.
"Bada," she supplies, as if reading your mind. She places a hand on your chest, and gently pushes you back onto the bed, her gaze locked on yours. You fall onto the mattress, your eyes wide.
"Bada," you repeat softly, tasting the name on your lips. Pretty.
She smiles and slips the blankets off of you. The cool air hits your skin, sending goosebumps along your arms and legs. You suck in a sharp breath, and her eyes rake over you, drinking in the sight.
"Beautiful," she whispers, her fingers tracing up your thigh.
She leans down to press a gentle kiss on your jaw. Her lips travel down your neck, and she bites at the sensitive skin, hard. A moan slips from your mouth, and she sucks and licks at the spot, soothing the sting. Her hand trails up the inside of your thigh, and her fingertips graze the band of your underwear. You arch your back, yearning for her touch.
"Please," you whimper again, and she giggles.
"At least you're polite," she says, biting down on your neck again.
Her teeth scrape against your skin, and you gasp, grabbing a fistful of her hair. You pull her closer, desperate to remove any shred of distance between the two of you. She groans, her nails digging into your thigh, her touch searing hot. She sucks at the tender skin below your collarbone, and you whine, heat pooling between your legs. It was a little humiliating, getting so worked up despite the fact that she's barely done anything, but it was hard not to when she's touching as if she wants nothing more than to devour you.
"So impatient," she purrs, her eyes gleaming. "So needy."
She kisses the mark she made on your neck, and you squirm, the pressure between your thighs growing.
Her fingers move higher, ghosting over your underwear, and you writhe under her touch, letting out a frustrated groan. She pulls away, a smirk on her lips.
"Something wrong?"
"You're fucking with me," you hiss, and she laughs out loud.
"Your impatience is cute," she says, her fingers brushing against the sensitive skin on your neck, pausing where your heartbeat pulsed, right beneath your jaw. "Can't help it."
You watch as she moves her hand away from your neck, back to your underwear. Her fingers slip under the band of your panties, already dark and wet, and she runs them through your folds, spreading your already abundant slickness. You couldn't stand that you were so clearly proving her point about how needy you were, giving her more to make fun of you about, but how could you not be? It's been too long. and you don't know if it's ever felt this good this early on.
Your head falls back onto the pillow, and your hands clutch at the sheets, desperate for purchase. The feeling of her thumb brushing against your clit makes your hips buck up, and she pulls away to pull down your panties.
You shiver, the cool air hitting your exposed skin. She grabs your thighs, spreading them apart, and the anticipation nearly kills you on the spot.
"So pretty," she says, her voice filled with wonder.
She looks up at you, her eyes darker than before. She holds your gaze, and without breaking eye contact, ducks her head, and swipes her tongue along your slit.
A moan escapes your lips, and your back arches, your fingers threading through her hair. Her tongue moves in circles, and you feel her hands grasp at your thighs as you inadvertently try shut them close around her head. She spreads them further apart, and presses her mouth against your center, sucking on the bundle of nerves.
"F—fuck," you moan, your head thrown back, eyes shut.
She moans into you, the vibrations causing pleasure to erupt inside of you. You grip the sheets, the fabric crumpling underneath your fingers. She pulls away, and your eyes fly open, only to meet her intense gaze.
"Watch me," she whispers, her voice husky.
Your eyes snap to her face, and she smiles, her fingers trailing down your stomach. You squirm under her touch, and she grips your thighs, her eyes locked on yours. Her staring does something to you, makes the goosebumps rise on your skin, a funny feeling arise in your stomach. She presses her lips against the inside of your thigh, her eyes not leaving yours.
She slips a finger inside of you, and you gasp, the sudden intrusion causing a wave of pleasure to wash over your body. She curls her finger, and you arch your back, the friction driving you crazy.
"That's it," she purrs, adding another finger.
You throw your head back, moaning as she begins to thrust her fingers, moving in a steady rhythm. You clench around her fingers, and her eyes widen, a mischievous glint shining in her irises. You bite your lip, the pressure building, and she smirks, increasing the pace of her movements. She crooks her fingers, hitting a sensitive spot inside of you.
"Fuck," you cry out, and her lips curl upwards, pleased.
She leans forward, her lips capturing yours, her tongue invading your mouth. She swallows your moans, and you can feel her smiling against your lips. She pulls away, and rests her forehead against yours, her dark eyes boring into yours.
"Are you going to come for me, y/n?"
"Y-yes," you whimper, and she laughs, her hot breath fanning against your cheek.
She thrusts her fingers faster, and her thumb rubs against your clit, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. Your breaths come out short and quick, and your head spins, the room spinning.
"Come on," she whispers, her voice low and sultry.
The pressure builds, and you can feel the edge coming. You gasp, your eyes shut, and your whole body tenses up, the pleasure rippling through your body. You let out a string of curses, and she slows her movements, riding out the aftershocks.
"That's it," she murmurs, her fingers leaving your core.
She trails her fingers up your torso, and leans down, her lips hovering above yours.
"Open up," she commands, her voice taking on a deeper cadence that makes you immediately obey. She pushes her fingers inside of your mouth, and your tongue dances around her digits, tasting yourself, a musky flavor that leaves you feeling lightheaded. She hums and removes her fingers, a trail of saliva connecting her digits to your mouth.
"Good." she whispers, her breath tickling your cheek.
Your eyes flutter shut, and your head spins. You're exhausted, and you almost feel as if you're about to pass out, but her praise and proximity sends a thrill through you, your heart fluttering at her words. She presses another soft kiss to your lips, allowing you to taste yourself on her tongue. She pulls away, a lazy smile on her face.
Through your exhaustion, you manage to meet her gaze again, and you nearly gasp. Her pupils had swollen, the dark brown of her eyes merely a slim ring around a black void, devoid of any color. You swallow hard, a slight panic rising within you as you suddenly remembering the reality of the predicament you're in. Or, was it even reality?
"W—what's happening?" you stutter, the words tumbling from your mouth.
She grins, and you realize for the first time that her teeth are razor sharp, looking as if they could tear your flesh to shreds.
"I'm taking care of you, that's what's happening, silly." she says, her voice taking on a sing-songy quality. Her hand trails down your side. "And I'm not quite finished, yet."
She leans down and captures your lips in another kiss so rough that it nearly bruises. You're still dizzy, the blood pumping through your veins, and your head still feels as if it's full of cotton. As soon as her hands meet your skin, your exhaustion and worry disappear, replaced by euphoria. She reaches under your shirt, her fingers dancing along your torso, and you moan, your mind foggy. You can't help the small sounds that escape from your lips as she touches you, her fingers tracing every curve, every angle, committing every inch of your body to memory. Soon, your top is tossed to the side, and her hands are exploring your bare skin. Her fingers run up your spine, and you shiver, goosebumps forming. She pulls away, and a whine falls from your lips, a sound that causes her to laugh.
"So easy to please," she teases.
"Sh-shut up," you protest weakly.
Suddenly, she grabs you by the waist, pulling you into her lap with an ease that catches you off guard. You're stunned into silence, and she wraps her arms around you, enveloping you in a tight embrace. You let out a yelp, and her nails dig into your skin, the sting making you bite back a groan. She places her chin on top of your shoulder, and her hands move lower, settling on your hips. She squeezes and forces your hips into a grind, her thigh meeting the apex of your legs. Your eyes flutter shut, a wave of heat pooling between your legs, a warmth filling the pit of your stomach, a small moan escaping your lips. She chuckles, her breath tickling the back of your neck.
"Fuck," you choke out, the embarrassment clear in your tone as you continue to your center against the smooth skin of her thigh.
"You're funny," she murmurs with a smile, and presses a kiss on your cheek.
A blush creeps onto your cheeks, and you hide your face, burying it into her neck. You inhale deeply, her scent filling your nose. She still smells so sweet, like dessert, and you want to lick her, devour her, but instead, you press your lips to her skin, and she moans, gripping your hips hard enough to leave a mark.
"God, you're so beautiful," she whispers, her nails digging into your hips. "So, so pretty."
You moan, the heat between your legs intensifying. Her words go straight to your core, and you can't help the small, high-pitched whine that leaves your mouth, a sound you'd be ashamed of if not for the fact that you can't think, can't focus, can't even process her words.
One of her hands slips around your waist, grabbing at the bare flesh of your ass. Your breath hitches, and she pulls you closer, her mouth finding the spot on your neck that drives you wild. Her teeth scrape against your skin, and her tongue laps at the hollow of your collarbone, the sensation eliciting a loud moan. You tilt your head, allowing her access, and her mouth moves downward, to your breast, her tongue circling one of your nipples. Your eyes squeeze shut, the tension in your abdomen mounting. It was overstimulating, her thighs, the way her tongue felt against you, the way her fingers squeezed at the flesh of your ass, the way her hands explored the planes of your body, and it was all too much.
"I'm gonna—" you start, and her hand moves between your legs, pressing her fingers against your throbbing clit.
You let out a cry, the orgasm hitting you hard, the intensity somehow stronger than before. Her fingers slide easily against you, and you clench around her, the waves of pleasure washing over your body.
She lets out a soft sigh, and she pulls away, her black eyes meeting yours. You don't care enough to feel frightened this time though, being so flooded with exhaustion that you collapse back onto the bed, barely able to keep your eyes open. Sharp, short breaths escape from your lips, and a numbness starts to spread throughout your limbs, a strange calm settling over your body that you've never felt before. Somewhere in the back of your brain, alarm bells are going off, but they're drowned out by a heavy sleepiness that takes over you.
"Go back to sleep, Y/N." she says, her voice distant, muffled. "It's alright."
You can feel the weight of the world bearing down on your shoulders, and the bags under your eyes seem to grow heavier and darker with every passing second. It has been a very long time since you were last able to sleep properly. You wanted to talk to Bada more, but you can feel yourself beginning to lose control, your mind going blank and your muscles becoming weak.
"Bada..." you mumble, her name rolling off your tongue.
Before you can further speak, the darkness seeps into your mind, and you allow yourself to succumb. But, the feeling that accompanies you into sleep is an uneasy one, a cold sensation wrapping itself around your body like a snake squeezing the life out of its prey.
"Good night," Bada whispers, the words echoing in the darkness, the sound fading into nothingness.
#bada lee#bada lee fanfic#bada lee x reader#bada lee x y/n#swf2#street woman fighter 2#bada lee imagine#bada lee smut
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I feel like for Mark and Ethan (and most of the other umich boys) it would be a case of:
We trusted you with our little sister (figure) and this is how you treat her
yes! they're very upset about it too.
"wait, what happened?" ethan raised his eyebrow, head turning around when he heard what samy just said. the girl's gaze glued itself to the floor because she didn't want to see their reactions knowing they were gonna seriously hate will after this.
"he broke up with me i guess because i wasn't worth it to do long distance," the brunette shrugged.
ethan's mouth dropped open as his gaze peered over to mark who mirrored his expression. "you're not serious are you?" the older brunette mumbled.
"i wish i wasn't," samy said sadly.
the anger immediately replaced the shock on ethan's face, "i'm gonna fucking kill him."
"please don't like harass his messages. i have enough mind to know that isn't fair to him," samy quickly cut in before ethan did anything rash.
"what do you mean? you trusted him and he broke your trust by throwing your entire relationship away?" ethan was turning into protective older brother mode.
"i know that. i just know being mean to him isn't gonna fix any of this. i mean we haven't even like done anything on social media because the fans are probably gonna go crazy on us. i don't think either of us want that right now," the girl explained. ethan's expression seemed to cool off a bit.
"why would he break up with you though? he just decided just like that while you were at worlds with him that he was gonna break up with you because california is too far away from michigan?" mark asked.
"i suppose so," samy shrugged again.
"that's so bullshit. you were at worlds with him and he thought that wasn't enough? fuck long distance. if you really love the person, none of that would matter. you'd do anything for them," mark continued.
"yeah, i get it. don't keep reminding me that he wouldn't do anything for me after he said countless times," samy snapped a bit. the older boys shut their mouths, expressions softening out a bit.
"i'm really sorry, bub. he's an asshole," ethan went to rub the girl's arm.
she latched onto the boy's arm while ethan's other arm came around for a hug. mark quickly joined too.
"so what's gonna happen at that family vacaction in july then?" ethan wondered when they all pulled apart.
"i don't know. maybe mom will let me skip or something. i don't think i can even be in the same room as him for an entire week," samy mumbled sadly.
it was literally two weeks ago that her and will were curled up in the same hotel room holding each other in one another's arms.
"i can't believe that kid. you guys were so..in love. we're here if you ever wanna talk, yeah?" mark said and samy nodded.
"i know. thanks, guys," the boys smiled.
#hughes!sister x will smith au#will smith hockey#samy x will#boston college hockey#boston college#samy hughes#will smith x oc#uofmichigan#will smith imagine#umich hockey#bc eagles#bc hockey#ethan edwards#mark estapa#umich wolverines#umich soccer#san jose sharks#sjs#ws6#umich imagine#boston college hockey blurb
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Despicable Man
(Perv!Graves × Reader)
[Dead Dove: Do Not Eat | Adult Content MDNI]
A continuation of Oral Fixation
TW: power abuse, unsolicited filming, rape threat
A/N: I just watched S1 of The Following (it sucks), and warren kole just infected my brain with mean!Graves. I just have to write it down, or I'll die of brainrot. Again, mind the tags. Don't read it if it's not your cup of tea.
This is the fourth time you hand in your resignation letter, and the third time he rips it to pieces.
"Can I give you some advice?" He said with a sneer, "If you want my attention, you wouldn't get it by writing these letters. You're wasting your time."
A vein pops up on your forehead, and you slam your hands against the table.
"What's wrong with you?" You shouted at him, "It's not a game, Graves. I'm not playing whatever it is you're playing, I'm quitting!"
"Whoa." He lifts his hands in a mocking manner as he leans on his chair, "You talk to your boss like this?"
"You're not my boss." You hissed.
"Legally, I'm still your boss." He pointed out, and you swore you felt your blood boil, "So don't talk to me like that."
"You think I fucking care?" You spat, "You're not my boss anymore because I'm leaving. Sue me all you want, I'm not gonna stay in a company that threw my grievance letters into the trash."
"Watch your mouth." He warned you with a tone that made you freeze. "I can still punish you if I want."
You open your mouth to speak, before you decide against it.
"Where do you think you're going?" He called out when you turned your heel, before striding towards the door.
"I'm leaving." You retorted, voice dripping with venom.
"No you're not." He stated. "Sit down."
"I'm not gonna sit down and listen to your bullshit." You glare as you push down the door handle, "I've had enough of it, I'm leavi—"
Your feet come to a halt when you see a man standing outside the door, blocking your way out. You recognize him from his black mask and athletic build—he's the commander's guard dog, Graves' most loyal bodyguard. You instinctively take a step back, as the man slowly stalks toward you.
You rattle your brain as you try to think of the reason why he's here, and why he locks the door behind while his eyes stay on you. Until you hear a voice from behind—saying the same words you've heard before, only it's darker, more dangerous this time.
"Sit down, (Name)."
Your hands were seized by the man before you could protest. He drags you from the door, and to the large desk where his boss sits. His grip on you is so strong, that it's impossible to escape him. And when he pushes you down to your seat, you lift your head and snarl at the man across the table.
"What's the meaning of this?"
He tilts his chin in a mocking manner, before he rises from his seat and walks round the table. "What's the meaning of this?" He purses his lips as he pretends to think, "I don't know, you tell me."
You jeeringly scoff at his question, "So is this how you take care of your problems? By threatening them until they withdraw from the case?"
"Oh no, not at all, mon cher. In fact, I want to help you."
You look at him as if you're listening to a mad man's ramble, but he only smirks as he continues.
"You see, I've… reviewed all of the accusations that you wrote against me, and I must admit, you're good at using the right terms." He uttered, "But, you forgot one thing. To win a case, you have to have concrete evidence."
When he turns his gaze on you, you feel your blood run cold, as you catch the subtext of his words.
"And the video that you sent as evidence? It doesn't have my face, mon cher. How are you gonna convince them that it's me? That it's my hand that slipped under your skirt, as I cornered you against the counter? Mind you, it's merely a touch, it couldn't be counted as sexual assault."
A satisfied smirk spreads on his face, as he sees resentment begins to fill your eyes, as well as bitter tears.
"You're smart, (Name). I always like that about you. You stubbornly wanted to prove my wrongdoings, you even brought a hidden cam for it. It's a shame the angle was wrong." He leans closer to whisper in your ear, "And it's a shame that no one cares."
Your glare turns dagger as he pulls away from you.
"Now that it didn't work out, you tried to leave the company. Guess what, mon cher? You need my signature for it." You clench your fist when you hear him chuckle, "In the end, you still need me for your escape."
He lets out a derisive 'whoa' when you're thrown back to your seat before you could punch him. You struggle against his bodyguard's grip, while you scream at him.
"Fuck you, Graves. Fuck you and your arse licking dogs."
"Alright," He sighs as he flicks his wrist, "Shut her up."
Your protest soon turns into a muffled shout, as your mouth is covered by a big hand. You wince when the grip on your jaws becomes too tight, and you claw the arm that slings around you from behind.
"Where were we? Oh." He rummages through his pocket, and pulls something up. Your eyes widen as you recognize the two items from the clink of the metals.
"As I told you before, I want to help you. But my service doesn't come cheap." He sneered as he stood in front of you, "You know that, do you?"
You start to thrash against the man's arm, trying to get away from him. But he seizes your hands so easily, and you watch in horror as he locks the handcuffs around them. Leaving one and a half inches of space between your wrists.
"There we go." You saw him smirk, before your vision came to a blur for a second. By the time you realize it, you've stooped on the ground, with a sore pain on your knees.
The man had pushed you down from your seat, and you heard the heavy drag of the chair from behind. You raise your head to protest, but the word dies down the moment you spot the handycam on his hand.
"Say hi, (Name)." He grinned as he pointed the camera at you.
The dark lens reflects your face, wide-eyed, and mouth agape. If a picture could show a thousand words, then it must've captured the paralyzing shock of your stare.
"You're insane." You whispered in disbelief, while he placed the cam on the table.
"You keep saying those words, darling. But do you even know what they mean?" He bends down to check the device, "What's insane for you, (Name)?"
An immediate answer comes up from your thought, but it dies down the moment it lands on your tongue.
"No words to say?" He sneered, "Where'd that attitude of yours have gone, hmm?"
He slowly circles around you, with a hungry flare in his eyes.
"Now, where were we?" You heard him flout, before you flinched at the sudden pat on your head. "Oh, right."
He seizes you by your chin, which makes you shout at the rough treatment. The urge to spat at him comes up to a boiling point, until you see the prominent bulge inside his pants.
"As I was saying, I'll help you get clear evidence for it. My face is already in the video, so the jury will no longer have to guesswork." He said with a smirk, "Of course, it'll become invalid if we're just conversing, right?"
The sound of click snaps you out of shock, and you watch in horror as his belt slips out of the loops.
"It'll be easier for you if you comply. But if you don't, we can always do this the hard way." He spoke in a low tone, as he shoved down his pants, "Open your mouth, or I'll ruin that pretty hole of yours."
#cod#call of duty#cod mw2#graves is an asshole in here#graves x reader#phillip graves#graves cod#dead dove do not eat
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Do you consider Grayson cheating canon? Like I know it happens in the comics but I know a lot of Richard Grayson fanfic writers, fans , etc just consider it ooc and that it never happened. I personally feel like he would never cheat on his s/o like he might have some commitment issues but he never would cheat. What do you think though on this issue?
Okay so im not exactly making a fic out of this cuz a lot of you wont like my thoughts on this. Im gonna be honest asf, so don't read if you wanna remain delulu-
Out of all batboys, dick is the second most likely to cheat . Bruce is first could cheat but it would be for a mission. Tim would stop before it got too far. Jason never ever would. Damian wouldn't because he wont think anyone else is worthy enough.
That being said, Dick is not cheater, with someone who actually means a lot and who he loves, he is firm in his love. But if you are just another "girlfriend" for him, he wont cheat but he wont commit. He would want an open relationship. But no, if he loves you and he is committed, I don't see him cheating . He does flirt a lot , he is a really charming charismatic guy so if you consider flirting cheating then yes he cheats. But his flirting isn't on the nose creepy. Its compliments, light-hearted remarks, or touching someones arm while saying good job never indicating that he isn't with you or he would pick someone else over you. He would never put you down or hurt you. Some women may take that as a sign he is into them, but he doesn't mean to flirt he is just being his nice charming self. If you have a talk with him he will assure you that it never meant anything to him at all and he didn't even mean to "flirt". He was just being nice but he will tone it down and keep it as platonic as possible. His charming self does slip out often though so just be patient with him. But he only has eyes for the person he loves, he has a lot of exes but its you. And it may take him a while to commit but even that I don't think would be the case with someone he truly love . even in a situationship he wont sleep with anyone or even entertain that idea.
This is only for someone he genuinely loves, otherwise he is pretty likely to cheat.
#•#Batboys Imagines#Dick Grayson x Reader#Dick Grayson x You#Dick Grayson x Y/N#Dick Grayson Fluff#Dick Grayson Angst#Dick Grayson Comfort#Dick Grayson Headcanons#Dick Grayson Imagines#Nightwing x Reader#Nightwing x You#Nightwing x Y/N#Nightwing Fluff#Nightwing Comfort#Batfamily#Batfamily x Reader#Batfamily Fluff#Batfamily x You#Batfamily x Y/N#Batfamily Headcanons#Batfamily Imagines#Batboys#Batboys x Reader#Batboys Fluff#Batboys Headcanons
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Doodle Dump, 1/2024 - 4/2024 (part 1)
So uh...I haven't posted as much on here ever since like, the beginning of this year. Instead, I've been doodling like mad over on the OTAS server and have completely neglected to post any of that over here alsdkjalk. So here's most of the doodles I've done, oldest to newest :> (with wild variations in quality,.,,, a lot's changed in my art skillz in 6 months)
[VERY long post below]
A staring contest, ft. @florisam 's Onyx and @illusidy 's Aerie...queens of the death stare.
Thank @/florisam for this one lol
After a body swap AU where Wis swaps with Qi...Wis has to do manual labor with Qi's wimpy wet noodle caffeine dependent body and Qi's def not taking proper care of Wis's body either... probably doesn't put her hair up if he works with a burner or corrosive chemicals aldkfjl
from a superhero/villain AU, wis is neither hero nor villain...she's the civilian that somehow ends up at the epicenter of every super battle and takes advantage of that by becoming a hero/villain accountant 😂
started drawing some more outfits for Wis, but I never finished them. Will probably get back to these a bit later.
and ofc she's gotta try on Qi's disaster outfit asd;lfkdjlrk
I made Wis a logo! Combined a sprig of wisteria with a pine cone, for her workshop, Fresh Pines. Also made a possible combo logo for her and Qi. Y'know, in case they ever make that multistage rocket + launchpad they've been dreaming about...
Wis would be stoked to get her new stamps :>
Wis as a butler in a maid cafe AU...that I do not have the space or time to fully outline the extent of the chaos within... (inquire in the OTAS server for more info asdlkjlrkadf) Also the first time I drew Wis's clone sisters (which I am aware that I haven't introduced at all on tumblr...I wouldn't blame you if you forgot that Wis is a clone 😂 but SOON I promise)
Ft. @spookemsdukems 's "Builder", it's the mystery gorls! No one really knows where they came from. Well, they know. But they're sure as hell not gonna tell you... (ehhh well wis might tell you about herself if you're friends lol)
asdlfklj based on a quote from an incorrect quotes generator
Initial concepts for one of Wis's clone sisters, the one that ended up in Duvos! Eugh the attempt at a waist up in the bottom right corner still haunts me asdlkfjlkjd Also note that that's not what a real prosthetic AK peg leg would look like, I did these without any real research 💀
Ft. @sunstream7 's Val...no explanation needed i think alsdkfja;sdlkrj
An idea I had about a romance/post-marriage gift that Qi could give you: a necklace with dopamine, serotonin, and oxytocin that he managed to synthesize...the neurotransmitters of love <3
Love is the Solution: A special necklace given to you by Qi. The little vial contains a mix of neurotransmitters--the mixture of love. Even though they're trapped inside the vial, when you put it on, you swear you can feel them surging through your nerves all the same. Stamina +15
And I've hit the image limit so this is the end of part 1 a;sldkrjlkjlakfj
#so yeah i haven't been dead asdlkrlakj#i promise i AM still writing tho. just. slooooowly#my time at sandrock#mtas#mtas qi#mtas builder#mtas wisteria#shady learns 2 art#long post
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Finally feel satisfied with how they're gonna do it, because I realized the common thread of all the failures to execute love triangle endings and it's what I ALWAYS talk about: SHOW. VS. TELL.
I'm gonna use Girl Meets World as an example. They did Maya dirty with that. They TOLD us in the end by having her character "realize" that she hadn't ever actually had a crush on him, she had just been having an identity crisis and copying her best friend. In a rewatch, I didn't find this. Not to mention, it's spelling it all out for us as the first reveal. It doesn't play as a reveal. It plays as forced. You should be able to predict, especially with romance, at least a little bit. You should suspect whatever is true. Because the most credible narrator is yourself. If you never had a single moment where you doubted her feelings for him, then you won't believe her when she tells you they were fake. If you had even one, they're validating suspicions purposefully planted in her behavior.
The other situation is the marketing love triangle that's played too much into the writing. There are too many to count so I won't name one. To digress briefly, though, shout-out to Riverdale for looking like that and then going "what? Oh, no. We were playing all sides because we're ON all sides. They're poly." Iconic; respect. ANYWAYS: what this type does is play all sides so much that it's unclear who the character chooses until they do, almost as if it's a choose your own adventure that doesn't pick until the moment of confession. There is no through line, it's just back and forth, therefore whoever the person chooses, it was not "shown" to the audience that their feelings for them were stronger because they played it completely 50/50.
In both cases, the character isn't shown doing things that divulge their inner monologue and then suddenly tells you what it's been the whole time and asks you to take them at their word. The speech feels unmotivated by the character because you were not witness to any build to it, making the motivation seem to convince you, the audience.
A great example of NOT doing this actually already exists in Stranger Things: Will Byers. Will Byers is gay. Also, Will Byers has never said he is gay. But we know. Because of his behavior. His speech even still qualifies as behavior because it is an action he chooses to make based on the motive of something tied to his queerness. His actions stem from a common, visible motive, but one never spoken. This is quite easy to do and they have shown an ability to in the past.
An important detail to note is that everyone I've seen believes that Will has been gay from the beginning as they tell us, whether it was visible early on or not. They trust the show because they trust themselves, and they're the ones who sussed it out. I'm sure there's SOMEone SOMEwhere but I have been here for two years now and heard nary a peep about Will's gayness coming out of nowhere since season 4.
All season 5 needs to do is show the audience before they tell them. All they need to do is have that moment where audiences go "wait a second....pshh, no.........wait" on their own, so that telling them is confirmation and not surprise. I think people who say it would be forced think we're advocating for an episode 1 kiss. I know damn well that would be as horrible and forced pacing as having Will and Jonathan's scene in episode 1. But doing that wouldn't change the fact that he was gay in season 4, it would just be horrible pacing.
All they need to do is provoke you to ask the question yourself. The consistency in people not believing something is true is a) when a characters tells them without having shown them, or b) when an audience member tells them before the character has shown them. It feels forced because it is - right now. But it isn't happening right now. It's a prediction, not a claim that you should have seen it already.
Every time it's felt forced in anything it was "tell". Everytime people have come around even after invalidating it and believed it was true the whole time, it was "show". It's very simple, really. We trust what we're shown, and when we're not shown anything, we trust the last thing we saw and the things we're being told. If we were told something contradictory to the last thing we saw, even if we last saw something 2 seasons ago, we wouldn't trust it - because we haven't been shown anything since. The last we SAW, Mike kissed El. The last we HEARD, he loves her. Show us something else and it'll remind us that we haven't SEEN anything in years, and that what we see is more credible than what we last heard.
It's very easy. And it's very, very consistent. What a relief.
#because i worry more about reaction than event#i know it'll happen#but i want to be allowed to be excited about it#stranger things#byler#also to the people i know will say it anyways though theyre clearly wrong#who cares if it's fan service if it's executed seamlessly#general audience byler#show vs tell
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Literally anything with riptide, man- love me my ocean man
//. Cybertronian Ex-Autobot neutral reader. Hope this is something.//
“I haven’t been held hostage in a while,” Riptide sounds almost impressed, “I didn’t think you would really go through with it.”
“I guess that explains why you practically volunteered,” you mutter.
It was work to move forward keeping Riptide’s gun pressed firmly against the spot marksmecha like yourself referred to as the “point of no return.” There were cranial injuries, even near complete destructions, that the right mechanic could bring a bugger back from, but you had a long, solid habit of never inflicting them. One shot: one less Decepticon. That had been your modus operandi from the moment you’d been forged up until your—
“The deserter!” Some bot or another yelps on finally spotting the two of you enter the ship’s main corridor.
“Your ship’s security is awful,” you grumbled to Riptide, “I assumed the alarm had been sounded back in the brig.”
“Red Alert was re-stationed a while ago, that’s probably why.”
“No idea who that is, but at least the name’s unsubtle enough to guess,” you raise your voice, “yeah it’s the deserter. The assassin. Tell Ultra Magnus to get a pod ready for the nearest waystation or you’re volunteering for next example.”
You jab the gun a little harder against Riptide and he winces, making you wince. You want to apologize, but the ruse is too important. Too much on the line. The bot rushes off to sound the alarm. You stick to the wall.
“I think they would let you go, if you just explained the situation. The war is over. And Ultra Magnus is-“
“Still running the place on military rank and code. Everybody’s still got their badges,” you mutter, “and it’s not like I haven’t racked up a body count on both sides. If you were serious about helping, just. Keep quiet.”
Riptide looks at you, concern in his faceplate, and you look away with a cough.
Very quietly you add, “please?”
---
You spend the flight to the waystation pacing while Riptide sits and watches you.
"What are you worried about?"
"Who says I'm worried?"
"You're biting the paint from your hand?"
You exvent and face Riptide.
"It's not easy to relax with," you gesture to the Lost Light, which lazily follows your small craft.
"You really think they would have shot you down without me?"
"I don't know what to think."
You check on autopilot again. Check your weapons. Check your comms. You're so busy checking things that your don't notice Riptide until his arms are around you. His chin rests on your shoulder.
"I'm glad I got to see you again, if that helps."
What it does is bluescreen your processor.
"Riptide. I'm not. It's not good that we... reunited."
"Huh."
"Huh?"
"Just huh."
Slowly, you set your gear down and, cautiously, hug him back.
"I didn't think you would really go through with the hostaging," Riptide finally says, "because we both know you can't lie for scrap."
"...Well. Good thing we were the only ones who did."
"Hah, yeah."
You don't mean to kiss him. You really don't, but another thing you can't do for scrap is resist your feelings for Riptide. You've never been able to. You didn't mean to find yourself under him for the brief time you were stationed together, and you don't mean to now.
And just like then, he knows this somehow. Riptide doesn't escalate, he lets the two of you slide to the floor and just holds you- careful to avoid your scratched out insignia.
"You want to focus on finding your brother," he says half to you, half to himself, and ten percent to no-one.
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay."
"It's not. I owe you so much, Riptide."
"Okay, then just try to stay alive so you can pay me back. Hey, maybe if you find him we can capture both of you! Then you won't have to hostage anyone."
"...That's...that's an idea. That exists. Thanks Riptide."
"You can kiss me again if you want."
---
You bolt the instant the pod touches down, transforming for maximum speed. Riptide watches you go ant touches his faceplate. At least you got to say goodbye this time. He wonders if you'll forget him. Maybe that's okay. Maybe it's best to try and forget too... not that he was able to before.
He smiles. Nah. He has to remember you. Otherwise, how would he explain all the new paint transfers to Ratchet?
#riptide/reader#riptide mtmte#minors dni#well.#this uh#this got away from me!#anon this is what happens when you rec “literally anything”#some of you may be thinking hey Ish this is weirdly specific#yeah#this is gonna be a case of “I wouldn't do that” I have a feeling#well maybe you need to turn into a gay space plane and maybe it'll hit different#i tried to actually put smut in here and then failed#whoops#anyway
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> be a robin buckley fan
> be lesbian
> project on robin
> look up "internalized homophobia robin buckley" on tumblr because it's cathartic
> 3/4 of the posts are about st3ddie or just about steve
#saw one in which steve was like ''no robin you don't understand! i have never been loved! i don't know how that feels like!''#i have several grips about that interpretation#going from the fact that's not true (dustin is clearly a big steve fan + robin herself cares about him deeply)#to the fact he probably wouldn't be introspective enough to voice his emotions this concisely not to mention he'd probably wouldn't take#a moment to realize he's never felt loved if that were the case. i mean. he could think that. when he's like 35 and more in touch with his#inner world. 19yo steve can't even get the hint that hitting on a girl who's already clearly taken (nancy) is wrong so like i don't expect#him to be that smart#but i can live with people having takes i don't agree with. my opinion doesn't have to be everyone else's opinion if you see steve that way#it fine#what bothered me was the fact he was saying this to a lesbian living in the 80s lmao#who tells him that 1) her whole life has been an error 2) she doesn't think he'd want to be close to her if he truly knew her and 3)#3) is paralyzed by fear of social suicide if she dares believe for even a second that the girl she likes may like her too#like i dont need people to do deep dives into robin lore and quote from memory lines from Surviving Hawkins abt robin feeling like she's#rotten inside. not supposed to have friends. feeling like something is wrong with her and that pushes people away etc etc#the fact that she's a lesbian should tell you enough abt who has the biggest chances of being loved 😭#also bothered me that it showed up when looking up posts abt internalized homophobia because?? where's the internalized homophobia therw#unless it's gay steve feeling bad abt it in an AU (as if canon robin didn't go through it)#like look im not bothered to find steve-centric content in the robin tag cos people are gonna tag her in posts mentioning her.#she's his friend.#but there are barely any posts at all about robin's internalized homophobia. like i saw 2 or 3. compared to all the steve or steddie ones#where's the love for my babygirl 😭😭#anti steddie#not really but y'know i don't wanna bother anyone#edit: the bit about there being like 3 posts on robin w internalized homophobia isn't exactly true. there are a few. but they still feel#drowned in st3ddie posts#like something isn't right here
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ok don't get me wrong, i love the disney+ show and while I haven't enjoyed all of the changes, I have liked or at least understood a majority of them
but i'm so sad that all of the changes pretty much cut out how purely childish and twelve the trio were in the book
like i understand the changes, they do make the plot feel less like the series of coincidences I'm beginning to see the book as
but i miss them going to aunty em's because they were just kids who wanted something unhealthy to eat and staying in the lotus because they just wanted a bit of fun
i get it makes sense for annabeth and grover to figure out aunty em is medusa and the lotus casino is related to the lotus flowers but I'm so sad it meant sacrificing them being dumbass little kids
#pjo#pjo disney+#pjo disney+ spoilers#not really any spoilers in this but just in case#i've learned by now comparing the book to the show is only gonna lead to critiquing every little thing that's changed#and i'm not trying to do that in this post#but there's something so fun about a 12 year old character actually feeling 12 and that's something rick had really captured in the books#in the tv show they feel like kids because their actors are kids and they are acting like children#but the book portrayed them as children in a way that i don't think many other middle school level books have#like both versions of the trio are adorable but they're adorable in very different ways yknow#people have been talking about the 'drowned in the bathtub' line a lot#and at this point i wouldn't be surprised if that line isn't included#little sad about it but again i understand the changes
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over the past 3 days i have been playing Super Monkey Ball: Banana Mania as beat and doing all the SMB1 challenge modes. beat im so sorry for rapturing you to monkey heaven. video games are scary
edit of first image i made after ACCIDENTALLY RESTARTING MASTER MODE several painful hours in under the cut (eyestrain warning):
As you can see i did not take it well
#jet set radio#jsr beat#super monkey ball#super monkey ball: banana mania#beat jsr#im like. totally incapable of getting banana mania beat's proportions right; ''chibi'' stuff is hard for me LOL#also like hope you guys like the ugly fucked up crusty looking brush ive been using lately#cuz it is FUN to use esp for quick art that isnt necessarily needed to look Good#so you are going to be seeing a lot of it.#anyway i told myself i probably wouldn't play the smb2 stages cuz i have played most of them In smb2 story mode#(i never got to see most of the later smb1 stages bc of not being good enough at the game)#but today i did casual/beginner and normal/advanced so. well. chances are im gonna do the other smb2 stages too#though honestly? i don't like smb2's stages as much as smb1's#cuz a lot of them are like... really big and rely heavily on timing gimmicks with moving parts and sometimes buttons#just not my thing as much yknow?#also while i feel awesome about how well i did on my second smb1 master mode attempt im sad i didnt finish the first one tbh#on my second run i did stamina master in TWO TRIES WHAT THE FUCK#but... i kinda really was curious how many times i died to that stage on my first run ..........#also i dont remember the exact number bc i didnt save a screenshot but in case youre curious#i died nearly 1000 fucking times on expert mode LMAO#They Don't Lie. That Exam-C Really Is Difficult.#...also. yeah. i did play banana mania specifically just because beat's in it and im in a jsr hypfix. dont judge me
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eavesdropping, are we? / accepting / @gloryseized ( Link )
"Where did you hear this from."
The fledgling stills, blinking in unabashed nonplus, as though he had thrown out a complete non sequitur and not a perfectly reasonable question. The implications seem to seize Tulin by the wing a moment later, though; he suddenly ducks his head down, shying away from the boundary he's crossed with twiddling wingtips and averted eyes. Even so, he treads on its edges. "From you, Master Revali."
From him. Cheeky. He's never breathed a word of those thoughts, adjacent or otherwise, to anyone or anything that would be alive enough to actively divulge them. Tulin wouldn't have any way of knowing about the knight he asks after, if not for the journal that had been returned to Revali in his first few days of roost-ridden recuperation — safekept in his absence, he surmises, by Teba. The boy's father.
...It shouldn't rankle him this much. A century of presumed death and a fledgling too curious for his own good — or Revali's. All but confirmed when Tulin blurts, seemingly spurred by his silence, "Sorry! I'm sorry, I didn't— I didn't know you'd still be here."
He chuffs, not quite laughing nor scoffing. His feathers are no less ruffled for it, but therein lies the crux of everything. Nobody, really, was expecting their Champions to "be here". To come back. Perhaps this was only to be expected.
Revali doesn't owe anyone his honesty. He hadn't back then — and certainly doesn't now, when he still finds, at times, the beginnings of far bygone names forming on his tongue or strange waves of wistfulness for an existence better left behind washing over him.
"It wasn't difficult to dislike him," he allows, after a long stretch of folding everything back into himself.
Tulin perks up, Windlines beneath his wings once more.
"Speaking with him was often more trouble than it was worth."
The fledgling nods sagely. He says, with the air of someone simply repeating something he hasn't quite digested yet, "'It's like talking to a stone.'"
Revali smothers the sound swelling in his chest before it can pass his throat. Yes, he'd written something to that effect, hadn't he? That Tulin would recall such a line, supposedly verbatim — made all the better by the fact he hasn't made the connection yet, between this knight he naively slights and the one he's enthused at length over.
And why would he? Or any Rito, for that matter. The blasted aches in his wings flare as his thoughts stray towards them, reminding him: a century has passed for all of them. Link, from what he's garnered in the Hylian's recent visits, is no longer even a knight. With the way he fits so perfectly into a space he’s either carved for himself or the others have made for him here, sometime in his journey before defeating Calamity Ganon…to the flock — to this flock — he is no more nor less than just Link. Champion descendant, apparently ( and isn’t that ludicrous in an entirely different sense ), but that's about the furthest they dare to reach. Sometimes, Revali wants to guide those wings to the truth.
( Sometimes, he wants to break this rhythm Link has created with his people, if only to have someone flounder for fragments with him. )
"He was much like Link," Revali says, head turning away and tipping back to gaze at the skies, at nothing and everything.
He doesn't have to see him to know that Tulin's leaned in with widened eyes, his own head tilted to the side. "Like Link? Really?"
He doesn't repeat himself. The fledgling — as his equally tiny peers seem to like doing — always makes something of his silence, anyway.
"Link’s lots better though, right? Master Revali?"
He does laugh, then: a brief huff of something that might be amused. "Well, he's not any worse."
#gloryseized#( okay look i WAS gonna do monologue between rev.ali and vah me.doh but then looked at the prompt again and realised#there wouldn't be any describing it'd just be him airing feelings in a convoluted 'i'm not feeling this but if i WAS here's what i have to#say about it' way skfjldf so timeline where the champions survive and are eventually extracted from their beasts post-botw it is!!#a century of fermented feelings have just turned them way too Complicated and i hope i've conveyed that lskdfjdkf#in any case thanks for this hilary!! <3 i am always Unhinged about them )#* ode / ic.#* ode / answer.#* ic / para.#* v / songs in the headwind.#long post cw
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aaaarrghghgh 😭
#overthinking hurts my head how am i supposed to sleep tonight#why am i so stupid so stupid so stupid#when BC said PANIC PANIC PANIC i felt that lol#yes this is about the job situation again (see my post from yesterday)#i'm fairly hopeful that'll resolve itself when i call them and ask for another opportunity tomorrow morning#(my mom helped me come up with a convincing enough story about why i cancelled the interview lol)#but i'm so scared of my employement agency contact person hearing about this#in the best case scenario i could handle it by telling her i had to cancel due to personal reasons...#...but was lucky enough to get a new interview#and i feel i should contact her first before she notices they have opened that position for applications again#(she knows i applied for it so IF she notices this she might wonder WHY they have re-opened it#because if there's been qualified applicants (=me) they wouldn't have to do that)#in any case i'm so so scared she'll call the place and ask them if i really did apply and if i really do have an upcoming interview#if i do get another opportunity it's not gonna be a problem i hope (unless they tell her why i said i cancelled it#because in that case i'd probably have to actually tell the employment agency person the REAL reason why i cancelled)#in addition i'm scared of what it might look like to the people i'm hoping will hire me if someone from the employment agency calls them#to make sure their customer hasn't lied about applying and agreeing on an interview?!#that's gonna make me look sooooooo good lmao#to conclude. i'm screwed and a fucking idiot byeeee#(this is complicated i know sorry lol)
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was a bit anxious yesterday evening about going to the doctor today (the appointement was "early" and i'm chronically late and i had 5 questions and i'm not always the most articulate) but i was just in time (came in, sat, took off my jacket, and the doctor opened the door to call me) and as the friend who recommend her to me had said, she was very nice, good listener, had replies and advice to all my questions.
it made my day tbh lol
#3615 my life#i don't have problems in general with health workers i was just in a little of a bad funk yesterday#so having this good experience and feeling satisfied I Did Good and walking in the “early” (it was 9:20 sue me it's early in holiday time)#morning is always a feel good time to my brain.#when i went outside i thought 'haha i'm gonna come back and go to sleep'#and when i was walking home i thought 'ok so i could do this and this and oh i want to practice a little'#it ebbs away the more i'm home and in front of my laptop lol but it's here !!#also one thing i have put off to do for years because the first health worker who told me about it was sooo bad at her job#i asked her and was like 'if we do it i NEED to be in control and do myself [this part]' and she was like yes this is totally understandabl#and ok. i will need to supervise because it needs to be done a way but we can do it together and stop if you see you're not feeling well#and as we continue talking i said [x] and she said 'oh ? but then in your case we don't need to do it at all actually.#and i'm rather strict on those things so i wouldn't say you don't need to if i thought there were more than the smallest risk#so uh ! get that. might still do it just in case might not. good news in any case#perks of not wanting to do Some Stuff
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The pain of writing a character intended to get misunderstood and then people misunderstand the character like Hey WTF! Ur not allowed to do that!
#callout post for myself#like the whole POINT is to misunderstand my character#playing into people's expectations and stereotypical thinking in order to make a character that defies that#... and then people do that and I'm like HEY! WHAT THE HECK! Lmao I guess it just feels a bit personal#like having to deal with people misunderstanding you constantly#and like you wish you could just grab of by the head and just make them understand what you mean and who you are as a person#but sadly even if you did do that people still wouldn't listen tho it's pretty impossible to fully understand a person regardless#people gotta fill in the gaps and those gaps are speculation and it's not always gonna be right in most cases it'll be wrong really#I think my main issue is just when people stick with their initial interpretation of a person and refuse to ever change it#even when they are just totally wrong they simply can't see or accept it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#wild really I dunno how people can do that but it's whatever ig that's just how some people are ya gotta live with it#from a distance at least I personally wouldn't really wanna stick around that person all that much if their impressions of me where bad#and they just stick with those bad impressions for whenever we interact#anyway I rant and ramble LMAO I just enjoy how humans works even if it can be bothersome at times#I still like to think about those behaviours and what might cause em
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I still love the way i have to convince myself to spend money with full-on mental essays
#''i mean i deserve it i really have been working SO hard i deserve a lil treat''#and ''what am i gonna spend my money on? i'm going home this weekend. i don't need to keep back-up money in case i need to buy food''#like you really wouldn't think i have a thick savings cushion thanks to the fact that#i've been saving holiday and birthday money since i was 10 but there you go#anyway i'm saying i'm gonna go buy tourabu and an indie game <3#the indie game is only i think €3 ? on sale so it's fine#but like i'd wait until /after/ i do my last final just bc i want to feel properly rewarded#but the thing is the sale ends on the same day so like shrugs#i'll buy myself a yoghurt after the exam <- very simple
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