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#soon the work crews will be done
bunnieswithknives · 16 days
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hi, i found you not that long ago and considered one of my favourite yhs artists
you don't draw yhs anymore? i love ur art anyways, just wanted to ask
Hmm? I mean I just drew something YHS related today. If you're asking more generally why I haven't recently its because I tend to phase in and out of obsession with things and there just hasn't been any new content lately for me to latch on to, no other reason!
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shinmiyovvi · 1 year
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Here are the members of the Salvatorix Crew 💖
From left to right:
1st Lt. Marcelito Gonzalez (I revived him cause I feel bad for killing him)
Capt. Gavrilo Petrović (His shoulder board means Captain 1st Class)
Dr. Stefan von Hoffmann
Lt. Ryuji Tanaka
Mirabelle Hawkins
Rochelle Levesque (Ultimis)
Sgt. Major Lorenzo Beneventi
Their height comparisons:
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Alt versions:
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Gavi without his hat (Jesus he looks so handsome here help me 😭💖):
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astranauticus · 8 months
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a handful of chinese songs that give me big robit energy
translating cpop songs is like my second favourite hobby so it's frankly surprising I haven't made this post sooner
Him - Floruitshow (马 - 福禄寿)
I've talked about this song on here before but this is the 3.7 song for me
the second chorus is definitely MR-SN but i like to think of the first chorus (Let me take a good look at your visage as we count down the time till the curtains’ close. Forgive me for holding back my voice so soon, do you know, in your graceful escape, all I see around me is disaster?) as VR-LA during the flashback sequence
specifically 'all I see around me is disaster' because yeah not wrong
'This time I’m not here to bring you home' just kills me like the please please take care of yourself because I can't be there with you anymore of it all
'Oh spring, oh warm sun, please come sooner, grant him a smooth and safe journey' same point, just the desperate plea for the universe to protect VR-LA because he can't do it himself anymore
How can I make you stay - Floruitshow (我用什么把你留住 - 福禄寿)
(conveniently I have actually done a full translation of this song!)
definitely one of the Maxim songs of all time
"You’ve believed that you can let your life pass in numbness, but [...] why do your tears fall in the moment of letting go?' YEAH because we've seen so many times how Maxim keeps trying to convince himself that he can stop just caring but it never works
'You say don’t fall in love, yet you’re unwilling to let go' same point, this man is in such denial about how he just can't stop caring
specifically the second verse feels a lot like Maxim waiting for VR-LA to return from Tu'narath
'You stay silent, holding onto starlight as you wait through your darkest hour. Your mind is struck, when familiar murmurs pierce your ears once more' aaaAAAAHH
the bridge (?) as a conversation between VR-LA and Maxim, VR-LA inviting Maxim to see the beauty and wonders of the world ('Do you want to see the sea of flowers blooming?', very 4.5 wedding invite honestly) but Maxim's trauma just would not allow him to take that risk ('If none of them come back, then who should I live for?')
fun fact the second version of the bridge in my translation ('You must stay to see the flowers bloom' onwards) is exclusive to that live performance of the song so it's not in the spotify version i linked here. as for which version you think fits Maxim more.. well.
Borrow - Mao Buyi (借 - 毛不易)
finally banging out a translation for this song was kinda the inspiration for me to make this post actually
the tldr of this song is that it's an unnamed/unidentified speaker asking to borrow various small things for the sake of somebody else (like 'an inch of frozen sunlight' to provide warmth in a cold world) so you can probably see where i'm going with this
'A simple ‘we have plenty of time’ etched into the soul to prepare for the chance of forced separation' ouch ow okay
'Those blown apart by these winds will say that they never loved deeply' / 'There is a sincerity that cannot be blown apart by this wind' DX-TR betraying the old crew vs VR-LA fighting through so much just to get them back
'There are tears that cannot be washed away by this rain' this line just haunts me. like in general
'An acre of land for him to call home, an ordinary life for him to live' as MR-SN watching over the old crew like I can't be there for you but I hope you will find peace and a home...
#rolling with difficulty#rwd starship#rwd professionals#my feel good hobby! as opposed to art: my feel bad hobby /j#im actually learning to play how can i make you stay on the guitar right now its a lot of fun but ow my fingers#ive also found a score for him but its super outside my skill level so we'll see how that goes#bmadd11 my beloathed#/also/ working on a little something based on that song but that wont... come into play for at least the next few weeks so#its an absolute monster of a project and school has started so i dont have high hopes for getting it done soon#i dont think i got to mention this on the actual post for borrow but ive literally been spinning that song in my brain since like 2020#genuinely. i've been thinking about how to translate that song for upwards of 3 years#grammar is just weird sometimes#i was gonna include let's go wandering by bibi zhou but i couldve SWORN i wrote a translation for that song before i just cant FIND it#spent 30 minutes hunting for the doc in my drive thats 30 minutes of my life wasted#but 'lets go wandering with a smile because we carry our home in our hearts' just fucks severely#also considered including forget your sorrows when the flowers bloom by zhou shen#bc im not gonna make a cpop post and *not* try and subject more poeple to zhou shen#but like that songs vibe is too... cottagecore to really make a good point there im just obsessed with one specific line#'If my memories are stolen and I forget all my love; I'll say to you “Hello!”#post amnesia vrla to the old crew??? the 'i dont know you. id love to get to know you again' of it all????#did this instead of my programming homework :|
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47-protons · 5 months
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I have 40 minutes left and I am somewhat tempted to keep an eye on this just to see what other pictures it has. I'm so tired.
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youremyonlyhope · 11 months
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Stupidly I decided to watch this video just now.
Today would have been my Grandma's birthday, but we lost her last fall and then my Nanna in the winter.
I did not think that a commentary video on Rugrats would make me uncontrollably sob. But I blocked out how sad the Mother's Day episode was. And combining it with Grandma's birthday...
I've spent the last 10 minutes or so doubled over crying.
#i kind of knew some sort of emotional outbreak was incoming soon but i didn't know when#that time ended up being now#because the start of this week was emotional since a show i was working on ended#and for some reason that show ending just felt way more emotional than other shows i've done ending#so many people were crying. but i didn't cry.#we had had a performance on mother's day and our director had lost her mother recently#so she was upset that whole day and so was so much of the cast and crew. i still didn't cry.#while holding a crying friend at the closing party i told another friend that the emotions will hit me later.#i didn't know when but i knew it was going to. at some time.#both my grandmothers had passed while i was working on different productions with this group#and both times i came to the theater hours later and it had been emotionally healing to be there.#this was the first production i worked on after losing both of them so it felt a little weird.#(plus the color purple trailer came out and that book and musical makes me SOB and i refuse to watch the trailer)#(also add in Tina Turner's passing and her birth name being the same as my grandma's)#and basically all of those feelings and having these other theatre experiences mixed up with my losses#combining with it being my grandma's birthday AND i happened to be crocheting when i watched this video#which is a defining skill that Grandma taught me... i was SUCH a mess. i just could not stop crying.#i had mentioned backstage that i can't rewatch moana because i can't handle the storyline anymore.#and just now while in the middle of this emotional explosion i thought of moana and cried HARDER.#this is a good commentary but GOD i did not expect it to trigger all of this.#when i say doubled over i mean literally doubled over and shaking.#anyway. i think i feel better now. i think i needed this crying session.#in sims your sim can have an 'emotional bomb' quirk. they freak out uncontrollably for 30 seconds then they're fine.#i've never really hated that quirk because that is literally me.
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northgazaupdates · 2 months
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10 February 2024
After 12 days with no updates, the PRCS announced the deaths of 6 y/o Hind Rajab and the ambulance team who volunteered to go save her. Despite the PRCS working with the IOF to coordinate safe passage for the ambulance, the ambulance was found destroyed by IOF bombs, with both volunteer crew members Yusuf Zeino and Ahmed Al-Madhoun murdered inside. Hind was murdered inside the car, where she had been trapped for hours with the bodies of her family members.
Hind’s 15 y/o cousin Layan Hamadeh had called PRCS emergency services after the car in which she and her family, including her younger cousin Hind, came under heavy gunfire by the IOF. Layan was shot to death while on the phone with PRCS emergency dispatchers, a fact which is documented via recordings of the phone call. Hind then took the phone and begged the dispatchers to send help to take her away, as the IOF was still showering the car with bullets. Ambulance crew members Yusuf Zeino and Ahmed Al-Madhoun volunteered to go rescue Hind. Dispatchers soon last contact with the child. They then lost contact with Yusef and Ahmed when the ambulance arrived near the location of the vehicle by Fares petrol station in Tal Al-Hawa.
This point cannot be emphasized enough: the PRCS worked with the IOF, getting their agreement not to attack the ambulance as it arrived at the scene. The IOF agreed, and then knowingly bombed the ambulance anyway, while also knowingly killing 6 y/o Hind inside her family’s car. They knew there was a 6 y/o child inside that car, and kept firing until they murdered her. They knew the entire time what they were doing, and lied about cooperating with emergency services in order to maximize the number of lives they could take.
The depravity and impunity of the occupation is truly boundless. Hind’s final hours were spent in absolute terror, and Yusuf and Ahmed’s courage and selflessness were rewarded with their murders. The PRCS did everything right. They coordinated with the IOF and sought their permission for the ambulance to pass, something which was already required under international law. The IOF abused this attempt at cooperation by lying about their compliance, then deliberately murdering Hind, Yusuf, and Ahmed, in addition to Layan and her entire family.
We write this update in tears, having hoped and prayed for a different outcome like everyone else. This round of aggression by the IOF has already seen unimaginable cruelty, suffering, and impunity. The complete, deliberate, and flagrant violation of international law and human decency is a stain on the conscience of the Global North and every president, staffer, soldier, and bureaucrat who made this happen. May the recorded voices of Layan and Hind, begging for rescue before dying alone, haunt them for the rest of their days.
Remember Hind, Layan, Yusuf, and Ahmed. Do not let despair consume you. Fight for them, for a permanent ceasefire, for accountability, and for whatever justice can be achieved, even if it seems small and pointless. Tell the world what the occupation has done, share the recordings and the updates from people on the ground. No matter how bleak things are, it is always worthwhile to tell the truth and fight for what’s right.
Keep Hind’s mother, grandfather, and surviving relatives, and the families of Yusuf and Ahmed in your hearts.
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Recordings: Layan, Hind
Our prior post
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ariaste · 9 months
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The Magic Trick You Didn’t See: Being An Analysis of Good Omens Season 2
(or: Neil Gaiman, Your Brain is Gorgeous But I Have Cracked Your Sneaky Little Code And Have You Dead To Rights*) (*Maybe)
***
Soooooo I just spent the last 48 hours having a BREATHTAKING GALAXY BRAIN EPIPHANY about Good Omens Season 2 and feverishly writing a fuckin16,000 word essay about the incredible magic trick that @neil-gaiman pulled off. 
Yes, it’s long, but I PROMISE your brains will explode. Do you want to know how magic works? Do you want to know what Metatron’s deal is (I’m like 99% sure of this and it’s EXTREMELY FUCKING GOOD)? Do you want to know about the Mystery of the Vanishing Eccles Cakes and the big fat beautiful clue I found in the opening credits? Do you go through the whole inventory of Chekov’s Firearm & Heavy Artillery Discount Warehouse? 
Here is the essay, go read it: https://docs.google.com/document/d/193IXS11XN46lziHRb6eUpM17yK0BQkRqke1Wh64A_e0/ When ur done u can tell me I’m an insane crackpot, and u know what, i won’t even be offended
In case you don’t know whether you want to bother reading the whole enormous thing on google docs, I’ve put the first couple sections of it under the cut. JUST TRUST ME OKAY, HEAR ME OUT, THIS IS VERY EXTREMELY COOL, NEIL IS GOOD AT HIS JOB--
Proem
A dark theater. The rustling of the audience: clothes, breathing, whispers of anticipation. The lights come up. A man enters, stage left. He is a magician—a master magician—and he performs for you a magic trick so good and so subtle... that you don’t even notice you’ve seen it. 
You know there must have been a trick—after all, you came to the theater to see a trick performed, didn’t you? And he claims to be a magician. So there had to be a trick somewhere. There had to be.
But maybe there wasn’t. Maybe there was just a man on a stage, talking to you, telling you a story with a strangely unsatisfying ending you didn’t quite understand. 
I know. This is a weird beginning to an analysis essay. But hear me out, because I have to explain the mechanisms of the stage before I can show you what the trick was, where the trapdoor was hidden, and how Neil Gaiman pulled the whole thing off so gently and elegantly that you didn’t notice a thing. Ready? Here we go.
The Facts As We Know Them
Let us begin by establishing a baseline—some fundamental, logical assumptions that underpin the magic trick. These will seem obvious as soon as I say them, which is precisely the point: They are self-evident, loadbearing foundations for my entire argument, and if I don’t point them out, I’m going to sound like a crackpot conspiracy theorist. (Which! To be fair, I might be. I could easily be wrong about all this—but I don’t think I am.)
Our baseline, loadbearing assumptions that preface my Grand Unified Theory of Season 2: 
1. Neil Gaiman is extremely good at his job.
2. Neil Gaiman loves these characters and wants with all his heart to do them justice; likewise, he has a great deal of respect, love, and admiration for Terry Pratchett and is striving VERY HARD to write the show the way Terry would have been happy with.
3. The devil, as they say, is in the details: Neil Gaiman and the entire Good Omens cast/crew are fully capable of doing extremely subtle detail work, as conclusively proven in Season 1 Ep 6, specifically the whole sequence of the body-swap scenes.
With me so far? Great.
The Elephant In The Room
Season 2 was... odd. It was odd, wasn’t it. This isn’t a matter of whether you loved it or hated it—there was just something odd going on.
I spent the entirety of my first viewing very much enjoying myself and being very happy to be back with these characters and this world, but I was also liveblogging to my groupchat as I went, and a theme soon began emerging:
“Neil, what are you doing? Where are you going with this?” “What in god’s name is going on here? I’m so lost lmao.” “What is going on with the music situation?” “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE NEIL” “zombies, ok, I trust u to pull this all together in the end, Neil, but I still don't know what you're up to” “What is going on LOL” “Incredibly what is going on here” “NEIL! WHAT IS HAPPENING!” “Literally what is happening” “Neil Gaiman why have you constructed a regency au for mystery VIBES reasons” “just????????? lesbians????????? dancing what's HAPPENING. just all the background characters are gay here ok sure sure sure NEIL GAIMAN WHAT IS HAPPENING--” “mmmmmmm neil what u doin”
All these are copied verbatim from my liveblogging, and apparently I am not the only one to have this reaction. And to be clear, I was having a good time! I came out to this theater to see a magic trick, and this Neil Gaiman guy on stage is a master magician—but I didn’t see the trick, even though there must have been a trick. 
At first, I wasn’t sure how I felt about the season. I wanted to like it! Indeed, there were many things that I liked about it! But I felt a bit muddled and jumbled up and confused—I felt like there was something I didn’t understand about it, and so I couldn’t yet understand how I felt about it either.
I started chewing on this question in a friend’s DMs: Why is season 2 so fucking odd? What is going on here, Neil? What are you up to? The matter of whether he was up to something was never in question. I knew that he had to be up to something. Writers are always up to something, and as I watched season 2, it was as if I was watching Neil scamper around the room with a mischievous expression as he messed with things here and there and made little tweaks and adjustments to the arrangement of all the Chekov’s guns he’s stockpiling on the mantelpiece. 
You see, Season 2 has some very bad writing in it. HANG ON, DON’T ARGUE WITH ME YET! THIS IS NOT A JUDGMENT CALL!! This is the rug that the trick’s secret mechanism is hidden under!!! This is the hidden mirror that makes the trick work!!!!! This is the trapdoor in the stage!
Yes, of course I will explain myself.
Neil Gaiman is a master magician, but I am a pretty damn good magician myself—I’m a professional fantasy author who has published nine books, and I teach workshops for apprentice writers online and at universities—and if there is one thing I have learned about the process of achieving mastery of your craft, it is this: 
Regardless of what medium they’re working in, the apprentice artist is concerned primarily with achieving realism via an expansion of their control—control of their brush strokes as they paint a photorealistic eye; control of their deck of cards, the mechanisms of their magic tricks, and where the audience’s attention is being directed; control of all the little factors of voice, plot, character, setting, suspense and surprise that go into writing a good story. However, the master artist has achieved that control—so much so that it often looks effortless to an untrained eye—and sometimes the master artist returns to a messy, amateurish style simply because they have control even over this too. 
As an example, consider Picasso and his entire body of work. He begins as an apprentice focused on achieving control, doing portraits of people that look like people—like what we expect a portrait of a person to look like. Then, as he grows in skill and gradually achieves mastery, he pulls away from realism. He develops a style, he experiments with faces that don’t look like any human alive  colored in ways that do not appear in nature. He expands his control. His work becomes abstract. Towards the end of his life, he starts experimenting with what’s called “Naive art”, something that a 5 year old could theoretically draw... but you have to achieve mastery before you can do it on purpose and have it look good. 
On one hand, Neil Gaiman is extremely good at his job. On the other hand, Season 2 has bad writing in it.
What does that tell us?
Well, we know from our Baseline Assumptions that Neil Gaiman is simply too good of a writer to fuck up through garden-variety clumsiness and lack-of-control the way an apprentice writer would. Additionally, he cannot fuck up by accident in this case because I am positive that the man is scrutinizing his work on Good Omens far too closely to let anything slide—for Crowley and Aziraphale’s sakes, for David and Michael’s sakes, and especially for Terry’s sake. The stakes are sky-high, and he cares too much to write a weird, kind of “bad” season by accident.
Which leaves only one option: He did it on purpose.
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(Am I sounding like a crackpot conspiracy theorist? Baby, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet. I’m gonna get SO MUCH MORE CRACKPOT.)
If he did it on purpose, then the natural question to ask is: WHY!?!?!??
It’s a great question. Not “Why?” in terms of why he as an individual person with emotions would decide to do that, mind you. More like, “What purpose does this serve for the structure of the narrative?” There is a story he is intending to tell, and out of all the choices he could have possibly made, for some reason this one was necessary and correct in order to achieve that end goal—so what was that reason?
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See? Intentionality. He knows exactly what details he left in, and he did it on purpose. (Editing! It’s important!)
So there has to be a reason. It’s like when a master magician “casually” rubs an itch on his nose—why did he do that? What is he sneakily slipping into his mouth by hiding it under the excuse of this little gesture that does not even register to you as meaningful? (If you haven’t watched enough stage magic to know what I mean, watch this.)
This question is, of course, impossible to simply answer out of thin air without any further evidence. It is a dead end—so we must adjust the question and come at it from a different angle.
The one I settled on when I was chewing on this was: Well, okay, what do I mean when I say “bad writing”? What is it about S2 that makes it feel so goddamn odd?
The Pledge, The Turn, and... The Conspicuous, Expectant Silence
There are three parts to a magic trick: Pledge, Turn, Prestige. 
First, the Pledge: You show the audience something ordinary. Second, the Turn: You make that ordinary thing do something extraordinary, like vanish. Third, the Prestige: You bring the ordinary thing back.
To quote the 2006 film The Prestige just after its explanation of the first two parts: “You want to be fooled. But you wouldn’t clap yet, because making something disappear isn’t enough. You have to bring it back.”
You have to bring it back.
When I teach apprentice writers, I call this a “setup-payoff cycle”. Achieving control and dexterity with this tool is crucial, because the setup-payoff cycle is the engine of the story—it’s what makes the story run. You can have a setup-payoff cycle at any scale—I have read ones that were a single sentence long; I’ve read ones that were two books long. Additionally, all jokes, no matter how long they are, are structured on a setup/payoff cycle. These cycles work precisely the same way a magic trick does:
You set up the audience’s expectations. (Optional but generally considered stylish and elegant: You give those expectations a firm jolt to throw the audience off-balance.) You pay off the audience’s expectations in a way they weren’t expecting, while saying “TA DA!!!!” really loud with your arms flung wide.
Audiences really like this. A setup-payoff cycle executed just right makes the audience’s brains light up like Times Square and hammers on their mental “reward” buttons like nothing else. It’s like you’ve personally handed them a cookie and a gold star. They go wild for this.
Here’s an example of a setup-payoff cycle, though it’s not a perfect one—and you’ve probably heard it before, so you’re not going to be throwing chairs and tearing down the theater from sheer glee:
The Setup: Knock knock. Who’s there? Banana. Banana who? The Jolt: (the joke starts over and repeats several times without reaching the payoff (aka the prestige) while the audience grows more and more annoyed and frustrated about the unfulfilled expectations, until finally...) Knock knock. Who’s there? Orange. Orange who? The Payoff: ORANGE YOU GLAD I DIDN’T SAY BANANA?
Good Omens Season 2 feels so fucking odd because the setup-payoff cycles are incomplete—nearly all of them are, and the ones that do close the loop do so in really weird ways which, as a professional author, make me feel kind of, “Bwuh?????? But where’s my cookie? Excuse me??? Sir???? Neil????? My cookie, tho???”
When I realized this, when I finally put my finger on why the whole season was giving me some uncanny valley heebie-jeebies, a chill ran down my spine. (The rest is here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/193IXS11XN46lziHRb6eUpM17yK0BQkRqke1Wh64A_e0/ I’M GOING TO GO STARE INTO THE ABYSS NOW BYE)
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baby-yongbok · 3 months
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Call me, baby
Hwang Hyunjin x Fem!Reader
♡ Genre - Smut, slow(ish) and then boom porn - Strangers to lovers (non-idol)
♡ Word Count: 7.6k
♡ Summary: Welcome to Rockstar tattoo and piercing, where giving a beautiful stranger and eyebrow piercing can lead to the best fuck of your life.
♡ A/N: I started this as soon as photo's of Hyunjin with that damned eyebrow piercing came out. I am EXHAUSTED the horny took over, I'm ruined and now maybe you are too. 😭 I wanted to have this be a bit of a slow burn type of thing just so there could be some build up and longing ya know? I don't usually draw things out this long but I wanted to give it a shot. 💕Please enjoy it, I worked hard and I'd love to hear feedback. I also only lightly edited it for right now, I'll look over it again later! Gosh I'm exhausted. + reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡
♡ Warnings: Pain slut Hyunjin, Descriptive piercing process, Biting, Hair pulling, Appearances by Lee Know, unprotected sex (safe sex is good. be safe ya'll) Oral (f&m receiving), nipple play (kinda? & not for too long + reader has nipple piercings)
✧ Masterlist ✧
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“Hey, man. Welcome to Rockstar tattoo and piercing whatcha lookin for tonight?” Minho, your ex and fellow co-owner of the shop asks as that familiar jingle rings through the empty shop. You’re too busy cleaning up your space to listen in on what the new customer wants. You’re sure that it’s something simple since it’s close to midnight and all that gets done this late are simple piercings and tattoos that people will regret in the morning.   
“Baby, you got a customer up front.” Minho calls as he makes his way over to his station. The name prompts a fake gag and an award winning eye roll as you move across your station
“Do not call me that, ew.” The echo of Minho’s chuckle makes him sound closer than he is as he rounds the corner of the wall dividing your spaces. You’re a two person crew so you get to spend every second that you’re in this shop with your ex which wouldn’t be so bad if he and his new girlfriend weren’t all over each other every chance that they got. You love the girl and they’re a much better match than the two of you ever were but it’s been so long since you’ve been with someone that you feel like they’re just teasing you at this point.
“You used to love that.” With folded arms he leans against your side of the wall and you turn to him with a hand on your hip while the other one is full of supplies.
“And I used to love you.” He hisses, holding a hand over his heart with faux pain in his eyes. 
“Ouch.” You throw an empty ink cap at him and you both laugh. “Well since you don’t love me I’ll be right back.” He walks over to the front desk, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair and heading out to the front of the shop.
“Where the hell are you going?” You whine, running up behind him. He turns to face you with that mischievous glint in his eyes. Does he really need to go get his dick wet right now? 
“Seriously, Min!” He laughs at your incredulous scoff as he throws on his jacket. “If I’m not back in an hour, close up for me, yeah?” With a quick wink and a smirk he rushes out of the door before you even have a chance to protest. You know that he’ll be back, he always comes back but you still want to give him a piece of your mind. You flip him off as you watch him pass the large front window and he kisses back at you. You love that you two had a clean break but god does he get on your nerves. 
“Asshole.” You mumble under your breath as you look down at the form on the counter. “Hyunjin?” 
You hear shuffling in the very far corner of the waiting area as you flip through his paperwork. 
“That’s me.” You smile down at the clipboard once you hear his voice, at least he’s not some rude wasted guy. “You can come with me.” 
When you look up your jaw nearly hits the counter, is beautiful even the right word to describe this man? You don’t usually have a type but if you had to pick one it would be the man standing right in front of you. “ Uh, hey my name’s Y/n, I’ll be piercing you tonight and it uh-”
Gosh, his eye contact is intense, how does he do that? “It says here that you wanna get a horizontal eyebrow piercing?”
“Right.” He shakes his head as he rocks back and forth on his heels and you nod. 
“Awesome, it should be pretty quick, let’s do this.” You unlock the swing door and allow him back into your station. You decide to close the privacy curtain that separates your space from the rest of the shop since the chances of anyone else coming in is close to zero, you’re not as accessible as the shops close to town so this is the quiet hour for you.
Hyunjin watches as you start collecting the supplies that you’ll need. You move carefully, making sure that everything is just how you like it. “Have you been doing this for a long time?” You hadn’t even noticed the way that he seems to be nearly looking over your shoulder this entire time.
“Long enough.” He smiles at your shy laugh as you pick a marker from your cup. “We’ve owned this place for about three years.” 
“You and your boyfriend?” You scowl at his words, pulling a chuckle from his chest. “I guess he’s not your boyfriend.”
“He’s my ex, we already bought this place when we broke up so I couldn’t escape him.” A dramatic sigh follows your statement as you motion for him to sit down on the chair in front of you. “We're friends now, best friends, but I am a single girl.”
Hyunjin cocks his brow, causing you to accidently draw a line across his eyelid. “Sorry about that.” He chuckles and you smile at the soft sound. 
“It’s alright.” You clean him up and the feeling of his gaze burning into you makes you smirk. You’re more than used to clients staring at you, there are some that will try to make an ungraceful pass at you while they’re at it but for some reason having Hyunjin stare at you so intensely is welcomed? Maybe because he’s cute. That definitely helps. “Ready?”
“Ready.” You mark him perfectly this time and point him towards the mirror to check if he likes the placement. “Perfect.”
“Awesome let’s stick ya then.” You motion him towards your reclined chair and he gracefully fills the spot with his tall frame. “You’re not scared of needles are you?”
“Not at all.” The smirk on his face as he stares up at the ceiling catches you off guard. You’ve never seen anyone smile at the thought of getting stabbed before. You wipe your hands and snap on your gloves before moving in front of your rolling tray where all of your supplies are set up. “Did it hurt when you got yours?”
“Nope, but that’s probably because I did it myself.” You grab your scissor clamp and move next to Hyunjin. “Okay, so, the steps are to clamp the site, pierce it, feed the jewelry through and then you’re out of here.”
“Sounds easy enough, go ahead.” You nod leaning over him gently. This is the first time in all of your years as a piercing artist that you’ve felt self conscious about the deep V cut of your shirt. You usually couldn’t care less but right now you’re almost hyper aware of the way that you’re presenting yourself to the man in front of you. You’re also hyper aware of the way that he’s staring right at the lacey red of your bra that’s peeking out, or is it the studs of your nipple piercing pressing against your tight cotton shirt that’s caught his attention? Either way, the way that he’s staring is causing something that you haven’t felt in awhile to stir deep in your stomach.
“Gonna clamp you now, it shouldn’t hurt but just take a deep breath anyway.” You whisper as you turn his head a bit to get a better look at the piercing site. Now he’s really got a good view. He’s perfectly still as you clamp him and you praise him for every little thing that he does right, he seems to take a liking to that since every time something sweet comes out of your mouth he hums with contentment. 
“Ready for the stick?”
“Go ahead.” He licks his lips while his gaze is still trained on your chest and you can’t help but to push your thighs together. He seemed to have noticed since a ghost of a smile adorned his lips right after. 
“Breath in.” He follows your instruction and you position the needle right at the mark only pushing a bit to prepare him. “And out.” He was an easy stick, it went in perfectly. It was smooth and quick and he definitely hissed a moan when you did it. You stay in place, leaning over him with the plastic needle still in. 
“Everything good?” The sound of his moan rang through your ears as you avoided eye contact with him. He hums a confirmation, his eyes are shut now and his bottom lip is between his teeth. Good god. Did he not notice or does he just not care? Does he have a thing for pain? “I’m going to uh- feed the jewelry through.” 
You move his head a bit, trying to find the best position for the light to hit him. Why is the lighting so shitty all of the sudden? “Everything alright?” There’s a slight chuckle in his voice and you sigh.
“Yeah I just can’t get a good light right now. It’s like my damn shadow moved in the way.” You move a bit back and forth but nothing is comfortable enough. “Can I like… could you just move your hip over a bit?” He does as you ask immediately and you swiftly prop your knee up on the chair. 
“Thanks, that's so much better.” You grab the jewelry, and wedge it into the plastic needle for the feed through. “You’ll feel a bit of pressure, it might sting okay?”
“Mmhmm.” Just as you’re about to move the needle you feel the soft brush of his fingers on your inner thigh. That had to be an accident right? Do you want it to be an accident? Not really.
“One, two, go.” You slowly feed the jewelry through and this time a soft grunt leaves his lips but that’s not all. You freeze when you feel it, glancing down at Hyunjin while his eyes are still closed and his fingers grip the flesh of your inner thigh. “Good?”
“Great.” It’s a miracle that you didn’t moan at the feeling of him grabbing you but you decide to thank whatever higher power saved you instead of thinking about what if’s. One thing’s clear though; he definitely has a thing for pain.
“Let me just -” You reach over to your rolling tray and his grip on your thigh loosens but he doesn’t let go. “- Just gotta put the ball on the end.” You secure his jewelry, screwing on the end and wiping it down with bactine. 
“Done.” He sighs but he doesn’t move. You look down at him, expecting him to say something, but he stays silent. You take a deep breath, trying to ignore the electricity that having his hand inches away from your heat is causing. “Wanna look at it?”
He nods, finally moving his hand, now maybe you can breathe normally. You both move at the same time but he sits up much slower than expected. “Feeling good?” Hyunjin hums as he adjusts his pants and makes his way over to the mirror, leaning in to get a good look at the new accessory. 
“So good.” Yup, he has a pain kink. It’s confirmed.
Once you’ve cleaned up all the immediate things and rid yourself of your gloves you move over towards him slowly. Usually you’d make small talk but you don’t feel too capable of doing that with the way that your core is pulsing with need at the moment. 
You watch as he studies the piercing. You should be looking at it too but you can’t focus on anything but the sharp beauty of his features and the way that his wine red hair falls against his temples and compliments the blush running up his neck. As much as you try to stop yourself you can’t help but indulge in taking him in further. You can’t help but to let your gaze run down the length of his strong arm and admire the way that his black sweats are hanging from his hips. Your eyes linger on the hem of his pants for a second too long and that’s when you notice it. Right below the perfect bow of his drawstrings is a delicious bulge that you desperately want to show attention to. Your tongue darts out, licking at the corner of your mouth a bit as you eye him. Snap out of it, come on.
“Think I should get a tattoo there?” Your eyes snap to his reflection but he’s already looking at you. Fuck, did he catch you staring? Of course he did, it was so obvious. “I’ve been thinking about it.” 
His smile makes you feel like you could explode at any second but you decide to try a bit harder to contain yourself. “I think that could be hot.” Fuck, no no no, why did you say that.
“Hot? You think so?” He cocks his eyebrow just like he did earlier but this time the gold stud adorning his thick brow makes a shiver run up your spine and sends a spark to your clit. He was already hot without the piercing but now it’s just unfair.
“Uh yeah, I do.” Before you can try to turn around and make your escape from further embarrassing yourself he turns to you. 
“Would you do it?” His eyes are focused on yours and for some reason you can’t find it in you to look away. 
“Do…your hip tattoo?” He nods and you shift your weight as you imagine the process. Could you even stand to be that close to his dick? You’re standing in front of him right now and you feel like you could combust from the eye contact. Surely you’ll melt if you end up having to stare at his hard dick for hours while he gets off on the pain of your needle for a second time. 
“I would.” Your answer leaves your lips in a half whisper before you can even think about it but the smile that pulls at his lips makes you forget your prior argument. “Just let me know when.”
“Do you have a card?” 
“Up front, I’ll give it to you with your care instructions.” You find yourself glancing down one more time before attempting to blink away all of your horny thoughts. As much as you want to fall to your knees and relieve him of his pain induced hard on you have to keep it professional, even if you were just caught staring at his dick print. “You paid when you came in, right?”
Quickly, you make your way around him to open your curtain and lead him to the counter. “Yeah I did.” You can feel him close behind you as you unlock the swing door to let him out.
“But you did such a great job.” The slam of the small door behind him makes you jump a bit but his following question is what really did it. “Do you take tips? Or could I give you more than that?”
You choke a bit on your inhale but at the same time there couldn’t possibly be a hint of oxygen left in your body with the way that he’s looking at you with his arms crossed and leaning on the counter. Your brain isn’t working anymore, it’s completely smooth as you stare back at Hyunjin’s cool smile. Hell, if he’s offering you’re going to take it.
Just as you’re about to calculate your own suggestive reply that familiar jingle echoes off the walls and your gaze lands on none-other than your godforsaken ex. He eyes you as you stand behind the counter with red cheeks and your palms spread and pressing into the desk. 
“All good?” He looks between you and Hyunjin with raised brows. You force a smile as you frantically scan the desk for the care instruction packet. 
“Yup, all good.” The sigh that follows your sentence is less than convincing but Minho lets it slide in the name of trusting you. You turn your attention back to Hyunjin who’s eyes were already on you. “So here are the care instructions. Don’t change it for about two months and uh, just make sure to keep it clean and um yeah everything that you need to know is in here.”
He takes the packet, brushing his fingers against yours in the process. Hopefully the way that you shivered wasn’t too obvious. Are you really that down bad? Usually you’re witty and flirty, you tend to have a pretty smart mouth with customers but as soon as you saw Hyunjin all of that went right out the window. 
“Your card.” He nods towards the display on the desk and you quickly grab one for him.
“It has the shop number and my instagram on there. If you want to contact me directly, Instagram is the best way to do it but I’m here almost everyday. If I’m not coming in, I'll post it on my story.” He flips the card between his fingers allowing you to get a good look at what you wish were still grabbing at the tender flesh of your thighs. Your focus breaks when he rubs the card between his fingers and a second one falls to the counter. “Oh, must’ve given you two by accident.”
“So I’ll message you.” Standing straight he slips the card into his pocket. “If I have any questions.” He takes a step back, taking you in one more time. 
“Yeah, I’ll answer as fast as I can.” 
“Baby, did you use the last of the caps?” Minho calls from the storage room and the scoff that follows makes Hyunjin laugh. 
“Stop calling me that for goodness sake.” With the flash of a quick smile and mumbled goodnight you leave Hyunjin at the front and head over to your annoying cock blocking ex. Once you get to him you see him leaning against the storage room door with his eyes on his phone screen. “I thought you were looking for caps.”
“Nah, figured that you needed me to save you. That guy should’ve been gone already.” Did he seriously just ruin any chance that you had at getting laid tonight? And by a man as hot as Hyunjin at that. 
“We were talking.”
“You don’t do small talk.” Minho’s pinched brows earns him an eye roll as you head over to your station. “So he wasn’t bothering you?”
“Far from it.” The way that you’re aggressively cleaning your tray gives Minho all the hints he needs but it would be out of character for him to just drop the topic.  
"Then what was he doing?" Minho asks in his teasing tone that you’ve grown to be more than familiar with. You pause and sigh as your mind lingers on the feel of Hyunjin’s fingers gripping you and the sounds he made with each hint of pain. 
"He was trying to make me interested." 
“Was it working?” The silence that followed his question spoke louder than any words could. “His number is on the form ya know.”
“Just lock up, Minho. I’m not breaking any privacy laws just so I can get fucked.” He throws his hands up in surrender, backing away and heading to the front. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath to try and contain the many emotions running through you. You should’ve been on your game tonight but Hyunjin just threw you off. You haven’t been that attracted to anyone in so long that all of your skills went right out the window as soon as he looked at you. Maybe he’ll message you? Ask you a question or two and then ask you out. What if he doesn’t? What if Minho scared him off and you never hear from him again?
“Baby.” 
“Lee Minho, stop calling me -” You pause when you turn to him, looking down at the card he’s offering you between his fingers. “What?” He extends his arm to you further, earning his third eye roll of the day as you snatch the cardstock away from him.
“It’s my card.” You shrug at him.
“Turn it over.” Your pulse picks up a bit once you notice the red ink on the back of the card. Hyunjin’s name and number is written in pretty symbols right across the middle with a small note. ‘Call me, baby.’
“I’ll stop calling you that now.” 
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Sleep didn't come easy last night but you sure did at the thought of Hyunjin. It doesn't help that you texted him immediately and he didn't waste a second before replying to you. Your night was spent getting to know him a bit as your mind danced on the idea of him fucking you into your mattress. The amount of time that you pretended that your fingers were his slender ones while you answered one of his questions is actually award winning. The taping of your cum covered fingers against your screen went on until you tired yourself out and fell asleep while waiting for his next text. 
“Going out.” Minho looked up from the sketch book in front of him just in time to watch as you grabbed your jacket from the chair next to his. 
“Did ‘baby’ call?” For the first time in a while you find yourself smiling and unbothered by his teasing. “She's smiling, did you finally catch a dick.”
“I'll let you know in a couple of hours.” The look on Minho’s face isn't one that you see often but it's your absolute favorite. “I'll be back, baby.”
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You barely got to knock twice before the door to Hyunjin’s apartment swung open. He looks just as good if not better than he did last night and the fact that you’ve gotten to know him a bit better over text for the past couple of hours makes you feel like a college student sneaking into someone's dorm after curfew. It’s safe to say that you have a big fat crush now.
“Hey, nice piercing.” He pulls you into a quick hug before ushering you further into his place. Your eyes wander across his walls, taking in every detail. He really is the artsy type. 
“Thanks, some girl did it for me last night.” He watches you take in his space with hungry eyes, no matter how much he tells himself that he just met you and that he wants to take it slow he can’t seem to pace himself. The amount of times that he came into his fist last night just thinking of how pretty your nipple piercings must be and how your thighs would wrap perfectly around him is insane. Unfortunately, the orgasms didn’t put out the fire that burned for you deep in his stomach, it only made the flame bigger.
“Oh yeah?” You face him as you peel your jacket off slowly, letting it slide off of your shoulders and down your arms so gracefully that he couldn’t possibly ignore it. “Was she hot?”
His eyes fix on the fabric stretching tight against your chest, how dare you call that a shirt. It’s keeping little to nothing to the imagination but he can’t say that he’s mad at it. “So fucking hot, I couldn’t stop staring at her.”
Your jacket finds a home on the arm of his couch while you check out the paintings on his living room wall. The stretched canvas and sheets of beautifully stained paper are littered all over the ivory wall, serving as the only real means of decoration in this area of the room. “Do you think that she noticed?”
The energy around you turns electric as he steps up behind you, just close enough not to touch you. “I hope that she did.” 
“Why?” Your breathing is slow and shallow as your eyes run across the colors of the paintings on the wall. You’re not really taking in the beauty of the art anymore, you’re more concerned with the masterpiece standing behind you and what he’ll say next.
“So that she doesn’t feel surprised when I say -” He leans into you, fiddling with one of the paintings and pressing himself lightly into your back. A blistering heat washes over you at the feel of him against you. It’s so much more than you imagined it to be. “- That I think that she’s beautiful.”
He reaches for another painting, stepping forward just a bit to be closer to you. “And that as much as I want to take it slow and get to know her -” He slowly retracts his hand, stepping back and breaking all contact. You sigh, swallowing hard as you hang on each of his words. “I just can’t go another second without knowing what she feels like.”
You turn your head to the side, catching a glimpse of his burning gaze as he stares down at you. His dark eyes are undressing you before he even gets the chance to touch you. Something like you did to him yesterday. “I think that she’d feel the same way.” It’s a bit of a challenge but you manage to hold eye contact with him as you turn your body to face him.
“You think she’d let me touch her?” Eyes, lips, chest and repeat. That’s the pattern that his gaze follows while he waits for your answer. 
“I think she wants you to, so so badly.” His eyes meet yours and his hands are on you in an instant, grabbing at the plush of your waist and pushing you against the wall of art work behind you. 
“Thank god.” He whispers against your lips before attaching them in desperate hunger. The sound of paper and canvas falling to the floor is merely background noise in the heat of the moment.
He’s soft and sweet like honey, his touch is like satin against your skin and your head is fuzzy. Holy fuck. He swallows the moan that escapes you as you welcome his tongue into your mouth, offering his own sinful sounds as a counter. His hands are grabbing at the exposed skin of your stomach while he pushes your shirt up to expose more of you. Your hands fist the fabric of his shirt, you want him closer. You need him closer. He pulls away abruptly, staring down at you panting and flushed. He takes a step back and you take a step forward. 
“Think she’ll let me fuck her?” He continues to step back from you and you match each move that he makes. Your hands find the bottom hem of your shirt and you pull the fabric over your head, revealing your flimsy lace bra to him. A hiss falls from his lips as he falls back into his couch. Sitting with his legs spread and ready for you, the perfect seat. 
“You better fuck her.” Once you climb onto his lap his lips are back on yours in an instant. The kiss is hungry, desirous, passionate. It’s everything that you knew it would be and more. His palms rest on your breasts, kneading the flesh and flicking at the heart studs of your nipple piercings. A shiver runs over you at the feeling and Hyunjin smiles against you at the reaction.
“Sensitive?” He mumbles, following with a kiss and you nod with a deep moan. “Fuck.” He pushes your breast together, jiggling them in his palms while he watches with his bottom lip between his teeth. 
“I wanted to see these so badly last night.” You knew he was staring. “Wanted to run my tongue over these pretty little studs.” 
“What’s stopping you now?” You grind your hips into him, milking a choked moan from his throat. He’s so hard underneath you, his sweat pants are doing little to restrain his pulsing cock from pressing into your needy core but even that bit of pressure is not enough to satiate your hunger. His fingers peel down the lace of your bra and you watch as his tongue dips out of his mouth and swirls the silver jewelry. “Hyunjin.” 
He hums, content with the way that his name sounds falling from your pretty lips, it’s then that you remember last night. Praise and pain, those are his things right? Let’s test it out.
The feeling of his tongue laving over your sensitive peak breaks you out of your thoughts and fogs your mind all over again. He shows both of your breasts equal attention, wetting your nipples with long drags of his tongue followed by a skillful swirl of the muscle around your shiny silver bars. “ So good, oh my god.” He hums, sucking a bit harder at the sound of your sweet words. 
Your fingers lace through the wine red strands of his hair, scratching and rubbing at his scalp for a bit until he grazes his teeth over the sensitive peak of your nipple. You’re pulling at his roots before you can even process it but the pornographic moan that escapes him as he falls into your touch makes you happy that you did it.
“A pain slut?” Matching smirks paint your faces but his is quickly swept away when you bring your other hand up through his roots and pull again. “I knew it.” You grind into him, the moans escaping him are making you hungry for friction all over again. 
His hands grasp your hips, gripping you so tightly that you’re sure there will be beautiful bruises there in the morning. “What gave me away?” His eyes stay on yours as you hold his head back by his hair. Yesterday his gaze was blinding but tonight you find it easier to handle the heat that it causes to rise on the surface of your skin. You’re okay with going blind if he’s the last thing that you see. 
“Hm.” His eyes flutter shut at the feeling of your lips ghosting over his pulse “Maybe it was the way you moaned when I stuck you.” Sloppy kisses and small nibbles of his milky flesh draws a moan similar to the one that’s been playing in your head all night to leave his blushed lips.
“Or the way that you grabbed my thigh.” Your teeth sink into the flesh of his neck and the sound that he makes in response is nearly enough to make you cum on the spot. “Or how hard you were when I was finished.”
“Do that again.” So biting is his favorite, huh? 
“Say please.” 
“Please, do that again. Bite me, harder. Please let me feel that again.” He’s begging? You’ve never been with a man who was willing to do that. A mumbled praise makes his cock twitch against you as one of his hands slips down to your ass, gripping the cheek firmly but not squeezing. Your teeth sink into his neck again, a deep guttural groan escapes him while his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your ass through your jeans. “Oh, baby.”
You pull away at the feeling of a warm spot beneath you. When you look down at your clothed cores the sticky wet spot presents itself to you. He came just from you biting him and he's still hard. No fucking way.
“You made a mess.” A familiar darkness falls upon his gaze and now it's your turn to moan from the grip he has on your hair. “Clean it up for me, angel.”
You crawl backwards off of his lap, lowering down onto your knees as his grip in your hair ensures that your eyes stay on his. He shimmies his pants down with his free hand, your eye contact falters for just a second so that you can steal a glance at his cock. He’s bigger than you thought he’d be, long and curved ever so slightly. The angry red tip is glistening with cum in the low light, you run your tongue along your lips at the thought of sucking him clean. 
“One day you’ll give me a pretty tattoo right here, won’t you?” He pulls your hair towards him, controlling your head so that you lean into his hip. You plant a sloppy kiss against his skin, nipping and licking like a desperate puppy. His cock twitches at the feel of your lips on the newly discovered patch of skin. “I’ll be hard as a rock with your pretty face so close to my cock.” He moves your head over just enough for you to lick up some of the cum from his flawless thigh. 
“You think you could do it? Think you could be that close to my cock and not put me in your mouth?” Little does he know that you’ve already thought about it and the answer is no. Hell no, absolutely not. “Maybe it would be me who loses control.”
He yanks back on your hair, lifting your head back up to meet his gaze. He brings his bent pointer finger to your chin and runs his thumb down your swollen lips. “I have a feeling that I’ll be addicted to this mouth.” His eyebrow piercing catches the light as he stares down at you and you can’t help but to feel turned on by the fact that you did that to him. You’re responsible for that pretty stud on this pretty man. 
“Let’s see if I’m right.” You open your mouth eagerly once he sits back and guides you over to his waiting cock. A hiss escapes him once you take him to the hilt, swallowing around him with watery eyes. He marvels at the way your pretty lips stretch around him, taking every single inch of him until his tip makes your throat bulge and your mouth water. You bob your head, licking and sucking him clean. The taste of his cum is so sweet, so perfect, maybe you’re just insanely horny or maybe he’s your new favorite candy. The only thing you’ll have a craving for from this point on. 
“That throat is taking me so well.” The vibration of your hum makes Hyunjin bite his lip as he watches you. You bring your hands up to his naked thighs and claw your nails lightly down the exposed skin. His cock twitches in your mouth and your pussy throbs at the feeling of it. You’re a big fan of foreplay, it’s super important and fun and everything but you would do anything to skip all of this and simply feel Hyunjin’s cock sink into your dripping pussy. “This is what you wanted yesterday isn’t it? This is what you wanted when you were staring at my dick?”
The deep rasp of his voice as he asks such filthy questions makes you press your thighs together, Hyunjin moves his foot in between your knees. Kicking your legs apart and taking away the relief you were chasing.
“Need me now?” Your desperate gaze up at him is all the answer that he needs. He lets go of your hair and you slowly come up off of his cock, swirling your tongue around the tip a bit and releasing him with a string of spit still connecting you. He offers you his hand to help you up off of your knees before dropping to his own right in front of you. 
With a burning gaze on your naked stomach he unbuttons your jeans and slowly drags them over the curve of your hips. His eyes scan every inch of newly exposed skin, leaving sweet soft kisses against the silky skin of your thighs. He takes a deep breath before pulling your panties down, his hands lingering against your bare skin as he admires your body. He leans in and places a soft kiss against your exposed center once you step out of your panties. What was supposed to be a simple kiss turned into a few kitten licks against your clit which then quickly evolved into long drags of his tongue through your folds while he palms your ass. 
“Hyun- Hyunjin holy fuck.” Your fingers thread into his dark strands again, lightly pulling at his roots and milking moans from him. “Please fuck me. Please just fuck me I want to feel you.”
“Gotta get you ready.” He spits onto your clit, watching it drip down your lips a bit before catching with his tongue and spreading it over your folds. “I need my girl dripping around my cock.”
His lips wrap around your clit and you throw your head back in a silent scream before looking down at him. His eyes are closed as he laps at your pussy, sucking and licking like his life depends on it. You admire the shimmer of his fresh piercing as you watch him, pathetic whimpers falling from you as he dangles your orgasm in front of your face. You’ve been thinking about him for hours and now you’ve finally got him. You get to cum on his tongue and watch him slurp up every drip of your essence.
“I’m gonna cum, oh my god.” Your grip on his hair tightens and he hisses against you. He swirls his skilled tongue around your swollen clit a couple of times and you can feel the blistering heat setting all over your body. You’re so close, it’s so good and then he pulls away.
“Hyun-” Your whine is cut off by the soft yet aggressive feeling of his lips on yours.
“I want you to cum on my cock.” The taste of your pussy on his tongue distracts you from the feeling of him guiding you to the couch. He pushes you down, watching you with a smirk as he pushes his damp hair out of his face. You watch as he pulls his shirt over his head, balling it up and using it to dap at the sweat on his forehead before throwing it to the side with the rest of your clothes. “Do me a favor.”
His fingers dig into your plush waist as he positions you. He props his knee on the soft cushion,  lining himself up with your entrance and teasing your sopping folds with his leaky tip. “Anything.” You fist the pillow right above you, placing it under your head to get a bit more comfortable. 
“Call me baby.” He slips into you before you can even reply to him, stretching you out so deliciously and filling up your gushing pussy until his tip kisses your cervix. The moan that echoes through his apartment is high pitched and airy, your lungs burn from the electricity charged air as you cry out for him, gripping at the couch cushions as you try to ground yourself.
“Baby.” The first time that his hips snap into you his jaw clenches and his eyes roll to the back of his head. His imagination barely did you justice last night, his fist is nothing compared to the way that your pussy is clenching around him. The ungodly squelches of his cock plunging into you sends shivers down his spine. 
“Fuck, you’re heaven.” He coos, the rasp in his voice makes your pussy clench around him as he presses your thighs back towards your chest. Hyunjin picks up the pace, snapping into you with unholy force. 
It’s been so long since you’ve felt anything but your own fingers and it’s been even longer since you’ve been fucked this good. Not even Minho can top this and he was the best fuck you ever had. The mascara stained tears running down your cheeks translates all of that to Hyunjin without you having to say a word, it’s not like you could say anything but his name even if you wanted to. Your orgasm creeps up on you again, dangling in front of you like bait for a fish.
“Hyun - Hyunjin please don’t stop. Gonna cum gonna -” You cry out as he slams into you, filling you to the hilt and staying as still as possible. “Please please, ‘s so close please.”
“Not yet, baby.” he beckons you with two fingers, motioning for you to sit up. He helps you up, shifting your position so that you’re on top of him. You clench around him at the movement and he hisses at the tight feel of you. He’s close too but he wants you to fall apart on top of him. He wants to see you fall apart up close so that he can fuck his fist to the memory of it for days after.
 “Ride me, come on.” A firm slap to your ass makes your hips buck into him as you start to move along his length. 
You’re fucked out, chasing your pleasure desperately on top of a pretty man with a pretty cock. He wraps his arms around you, hugging you against his chest when he suddenly starts fucking up into you. He’s impossibly deep and you find yourself gasping for air against his shoulder. Moans and grunts fill the hot air as you fuck each other. For each thrust into you, you grind down on his cock, keeping him deliciously deep in your cunt. Your teeth mindlessly graze over the slope of his shoulder before you bite down into him. Bite, lick, suck. That’s the pattern you follow, over and over again. Making him sing for you as his fingers caress your spine. 
“Come on, you can do it harder than that.” He gasps when you accept his challenge, biting into him with a bruising force. His thrusts become more erratic as he nears his climax but he’s determined to let you soak his cock before he pulls out. “Look at me, baby.”
He leans back into the sofa and his hand moves between your bodies once your eyes meet his. His middle and pointer finger rubs circles into your clit while he ruts up into you “Yes yes, yes ‘s so good.” 
“You like my cock, pretty girl?” The fog in your brain is so thick that you can’t help but to babble as your orgasm climbs up your spine for the third time tonight.
“Love it. Love cock, you -you’re cock. Hyunjin, ‘m gonna cum o-on your cock.” He thought that you were breathtaking before but watching you cock drunk and fucked out while you’re bouncing on his dick might be his favorite way to see you. 
“Go ahead, cum on my cock.” With a few more sloppy thrusts your body trembles against him as you come undone on top of him. He fucks you through it, keeping his fingers pressed against your clit as you squirm on top of him. Your vision goes white and there’s a ringing in your ears that blocks out every word of praise that falls from Hyunjin’s lips. The only thing that you can register is the pressure of his cock as he simultaneously abuses your cervix and clit. 
“Hyun- fuck fuckfuck. So much. Too much.” Once you find the strength to open your eyes you're met with Hyunjin smiling up at you with pinched brows. “You can take it.”
“Pull my hair, baby.” Your trembling hands find their way along the familiar path of his scalp seconds after his request. Pulling at his roots with a delicious force that makes Hyunjin’s eyes roll back as he licks his lips.
“Oh fuck, you’re gonna make me cum.” Moans and whines fall from you nonstop as he fucks into your swollen and sensitive cunt, the wet sound of your arosual where Hyunjin’s cock disappears into you echoes off the walls until he stops, breath hitching in his throat. “Come here.”
His hand is in your hair before you can protest, lifting you off of him and onto your knees. Your cunt feels so empty without him inside of you. “Gonna let me cum on those pretty tits?”
“Yeah, yeah please. Wan' your cum, baby.” He throws his head back, pumping his slick cock in front of your face while you mindlessly slur praises for him. “You’re so fucking pretty, please let me have it. Please, I wan' Jinnie’s cum.” 
“Baby, baby, cumming. I’m fucking cumming.” You both watch as thick ropes of his cum paints your breasts. Dripping over your nipples and the shiny studs just how Hyunjin pictured it last night. “Shit.” 
Your panting fills the room as you both take a second to come down from your high. Hyunjin offers you his hand, helping you up from your knees and catching you when you stumble a bit with a chuckle. “Let me clean you up so you can lie down.” He sits you on the couch, grabbing his sweats and pulling them on before making his way to the bathroom for a wet cloth. 
You blink a couple of times, trying your best to adjust to the light around you. It’s dim but everything seemed darker in your fucked out haze. You settle against the armrest of the sofa, smiling like an idiot while the pulsing of your clit reminds you of everything that just happened. Who would’ve thought that an eyebrow piercing could lead you to having the best fuck of your life. Just as you allow your eyes to flutter shut you feel a heavy vibration under you. With a groan you lift yourself up and search for the source. It’s your jacket, it must be your phone. Oh my gosh, Minho! You sit up with all the strength that you can muster, unlocking your phone and checking your messages. 
“Everything alright?” Hyunjin questions as he kneels in front of you with a warm cloth in hand.
“Yup, just fine.” You grin down at your screen before pushing your phone to the side and allowing Hyunjin to wipe you clean.
From Minho: Knew you weren’t coming back.  
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ghosts-cyphera · 6 months
Note
In my opinion reader only actually finishes with Ghost…she fakes it for every other person she’s with. And he knows it and it fully boosts his already disgustingly huge cock ego lol.
18+; mdni / suggestive / pornstar!ghost x fem!reader; masterlist here ♡
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"what the fuck was that?" ghost—lounging on the couch of the break room—raised an eyebrow as soon as you walked in.
"what was what?"
"I heard you with graves," his brows furrowed, and just as you thought him to be genuinely concerned, you saw the nearly boyish twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "I heard you come, alright, but that wasn't—"
shit.
"don't."
"you faked it."
"ghost—"
"you don’t fuckin' fake it with me, right?"
"you know the answer to that," you let out a groan as you fell onto the couch next to him. your fingers now mindlessly playing with your lunch, you avoided his gaze. "do you never—you know? just to be done with it?"
"too fuckin' often," he grinned. "not with you though."
"believe me, I know," you let out a warm laugh as you nudged him with your knee—grinning as he nudged you back. "if I tell you something, do you promise to not let it go to your head?" 
"you know I can't fuckin' do that, darlin'."
"ghost."
"yeah, alright," he grinned. "promised."
"I think you're the only one I've never faked it with."
"well, makes sense, don't it, darlin'? it's bloody hard to perform in front of the whole fuckin' crew 'n—"
"not just at work."
for a moment, he was silent. 
and then, "huh." despite the simplicity of his hum, you could see the tugging of the corners of his lips as he visibly tried to hold back his grin. 
"I swear to—"
"I said nothin', love," he laughed, and with that, the smile had taken over his features, goddamn radiant as he leaned back his head. "fuckin' A. that bloody special, am I?"
yet the warmth waking up at the pit of your stomach was not brought on by hearing him laugh or seeing him smile. not only. first and foremost, it was from the touch of soft red on his cheeks.
he was blushing.
he was actually—
"fuckin' don't," he let out a low laugh. "don't you fuckin' go and blame me, darlin'."
"who said anything about blaming you?" your laugh was warm: your smile just as bright as his was. just as happy. "it's kinda cute."
"y'know what?" he pushed off the couch with a warm grin. "have fun with graves, yeah? and tomorrow—," he wet his lips as he glanced at his wristwatch, "in eighteen hours, give or fuckin' take, I'll make you come until your voice is hoarse and you're beggin' for a break. and then we'll see which one of us is kinda cute."
fuck.
he tilted his head, amused. "what was that, love?"
you managed out a breathless chuckle: warmth visible in your eyes, no matter how hard you tried to hide it. "you're the worst."
"that's not what you'll be tellin' me after your first orgasm," he grinned as he took backward steps from you. "let alone your third."
he would be the death of you.  
"see you then, darlin'."
but oh, what a way to go.
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a/n: giggling blushing kicking my feet. blushy ghost -> teasing ghost is my new favorite thing. // to elaborate on this ask just a tiny bit more, check out this post <3
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zegrasdrysdale · 5 months
Text
[ one day ] j. hughes
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paring : Jack Hughes x fem!reader
summary : (Y/N) accidentally distracts Jack while he’s being interviewed in their home for a day in the life of a Devils player documentary that's being filmed, and Jack brings up the idea of a proposal
warning(s) : a quick mention of suggestive content but no actual sex
author’s note : i don’t understand how this plot came to be and tbh it's kinda stupid but i’m taking it and running with it
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Jack being one of NHL's most popular players has it's pros and cons. Today is one of those cons that they both hate. Jack is being followed around for the day to film a Devils documentary that follows players during their off days. Jack being one of the Devils' star players means he had to do the documentary.
That was before (Y/N) talked him into it. She didn't realize how intense it would all be. An entire film crew has set up in their living room with big cameras and lighting. They have made themselves very much at home after knocking on their door at the crack of dawn.
The two of them were having a really good morning in bed together when the film crew came knocking. Lots of naked cuddles and kisses were exchanged when a knock rang out through their apartment. It ruined both of their moods.
They stand in their kitchen and watch the crew finish setting up from the island counter. Jack is now dressed in a dark grey Devils hockey t-shirt with black sweatpants that have a Devils logo on the pant leg.
"Do you want me in this?" (Y/N) questions. Jack looks over at her with a confused look on his face. "I mean, we've been mostly quiet about our relationship so I completely understand if you don't want me to be apart of your episode of the documentary."
Jack shakes his head as soon as the words pass her lips. "No, I want you in this, (Y/N)," he tells her. "It's a documentary about a day in my life and you're a really big part of my life so of course I want you in this. Just let me do the interview really quick then we can act like it's a normal day."
The woman doing the interview is one of the Devils reporters, but (Y/N) can't remember her name at the moment. She sits opposite Jack in the comfy chair. The camera over her shoulder is pointed at Jack.
While Jack is being interviewed, (Y/N) goes to her room to get ready for their insane day ahead. She needs to put on some actual clothes too. All she's been wearing since she got out of bed is one of Jack's t-shirts and a pair of really small shorts. Not exactly what she wants to be wearing if she's going to be followed around for most of the day by people that work for the Devils.
She can hear some of the questions being asked while she's getting changed. They're the usual questions. Asking about how the season is going for him, how he's been recovering from that shoulder injury that kept him off the ice for a handful of games, and how it's been having his brother on the team with him. Sometimes Jack's sassy side comes out. He's never been the one to hide how he's feeling when answering questions.
To mess with Jack a little bit, and to kind of surprise him when he's done with the interview, (Y/N) grabs Jack's Devils hoodie that he wears to practice sometimes. His number sits on her chest and it's a little too big. She pairs the black hoodie with a pair of jeans that are ripped at the knee. She throws her hair up into a high ponytail and puts on light makeup just to cover any blemishes or pimples that'll pop out on camera.
When she leaves their bedroom, Jack is talking about how amazing it is to be considered one of the league's best players.
"It's always the goal to be one of the best in whatever sport you play," Jack is saying as she walks through the living room. "I, um, didn't think it would happen, uh, so early on in my, um, career." (Y/N) looks over and sees that Jack has his eyes on her. "Sorry. Got distracted." There's a smile on his face when he sees what she's wearing.
The reporter turns and looks at (Y/N). "I didn't know your girlfriend lived with you, Jack," she says as she turns back to him. (Y/N) smiles and starts to make some coffee.
"One of the best decisions I have ever made," Jack says from the living room. "Getting to fall asleep with her in my arms and waking up with her wrapped around me is an honor. We've been together for over two years now and it's been incredible. My parents and brothers all love her, but not nearly as much as I do."
(Y/N) smiles to herself as the coffee brews. Her back is to him at the moment so he can't see the smile.
The way Jack talks about her sometimes makes her fall in love with him a little more. She talks about him like that all the time to friends and family, but knowing he's saying all of this in front of a camera for a documentary makes what he'[s saying a little more special. He isn't holding back because he's on camera.
"That's so cute," the interviewer says. "Could we be expecting a Jack Hughes proposal soon?"
"We'll see what happens," Jack replies. That causes her to spin around immediately and look at Jack. The smile that was on his face is still there as their eyes meet from two different rooms. Her smile grows bigger.
They've never talked about marriage. Both of them are very happy with where they are at in their relationship so they both not rushing to walk down the aisle. Plus, they're 21 and 22 respectively so they're still really young. They don't have to get married right now.
The interview goes by without another mention of marriage, or (Y/N). She's okay with that because this is about Jack and his accomplishments as NHL's rising star. He's come a long way since his rookie year.
(Y/N) was around that year but they weren't together. They were close friends at that point so she saw every day how Jack struggled his rookie year. He struggled with hockey and he struggled with what people were saying about him online. Calling him a NHL bust despite being drafted first overall.
They grew closer that year and it was during his sophomore season when they got together. She's been super supportive of him since he got drafted, but especially after his rookie year.
Jack quickly excuses himself before he gets mic'd up for the rest of the day. She's pouring coffee into two mugs for both of them when Jack comes up behind her and wraps his arms around his girlfriend.
"I know we never talked about it but-"
"Yes, I'd like to get married to you one day, Jack," (Y/N) interrupts as she turns in his arms. He presses her against the counter with one hand and takes his hot coffee in his other. "We don't have to rush into anything though. I'm happy with where we are and you're still trying to prove yourself in the NHL."
"So one day?" he asks.
She leans forward and kisses him softly and quickly. "One day."
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MASTERLIST
have a request ? check out the guidelines !
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yandere-daydreams · 7 months
Text
Title: Scarlet and Gold.
Pairing: Yandere!Diluc x Reader (Genshin).
Word Count: 3.1k.
TW: Sex Doll AU, Unhealthy Relationships, Gore (No Injury To Reader), Blood, Implied Consensual Sex, Past Trauma, Obsessive Behavior, and Intimidation.
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By the time you reached the address, Diluc was already waiting in the lobby.
You’d gotten the call about an hour ago, spent half an hour dragging yourself out of bed and gathering what you’d need before making the twenty minute drive to an apartment complex on the other side of town, careful to avoid any security cameras the cops would think to check if anyone requested an investigation. Five more to park and throw your well-worn duffle bag over your shoulder and three to find Diluc, loitering near the elevators, fiddling with a loose cigarette he would never light. You greeted him with a quick nod before throwing your bag into his chest, and he feigned a groan, stumbling back as he caught it. He needed to work on his impressions, but that could wait.
You spoke first. That, you couldn’t critique him on – most androids couldn’t speak until spoken to, and you couldn’t expect Diluc to go against one of the core tenants of his programming. “What is it?”
“Just the usual.” He kept his voice low, muted, trying to hide the remaining traces of an accent that’d been invented by some marketing team over a decade ago. “I’ve already seen the apartment. There’s a little blood, but not much else. We’ll be done by sunrise.”
You took the stairs, keeping your head bowed and face shielded from any possible security cameras. Diluc didn’t share your paranoia, staring straight ahead with the same indifferent expression he always seemed to wear. The benefits of having a face that’d been printed and distributed tens of thousands of times, you guessed. Tracking down a single Diluc in a sea of androids and companion bots wasn’t a length most detectives were willing to go to. “I’d rather not have to do this at all.”
“You’ll survive.”
“Says the man who doesn’t have to sleep.” You came to a stop in front of the first door on the fourth story and tried the knob. It gave easily, the cheap titanium dented and the lock broken beyond any hope of repair. Diluc’s handiwork, obviously, although you couldn’t say whether or not he’d done it on purpose. “Anything else you want to tell me, before we get started?”
He thought, for a second. “I passed a carousel on the way here,” he said, with no particular inflection. “It was nice. I thought the horses were well-crafted.”
“About the assignment, ‘luc.”
“Oh,” And then, with a hint of red in his pale cheek. “You might want to hold your breath.”
You didn’t have to ask what he meant. As soon as you opened the door, you were hit with the stomach-turning stench of stale blood and rotting gore, both at least a week old. You cursed, pulling your shirt over your nose and mouth, but pushed forward. The first body was splayed out in the center of the cramped living room, wrists and ankles bound with disembodied wiring, all clothing removed and chest dotted with black ink. The abdomen had been cut open, skin peeled away to reveal the entrails in their full, shriveled glory. Judging by the number of blades littered around the corpse, ranging from blunted scissors to gore-splattered carving knives, it’d been more of a hack job than a dissection.
Diluc had undersold the mess. Blood had soaked into the carpeting and dried, turning the floor a ruddy, reddish-brown color. What was left had gotten on the walls, the furniture, the ceiling. You swallowed back a groan. The furniture could be broken down and discarded, the walls and ceiling bleached. The carpeting, though, would have to be torn up and replaced, which meant you would have to spend a few more precious minutes of your night calling in a cleaning crew. That, or you would have to make Diluc do it, but he was shy around new people, and you were too much of a bleeding heart to sit back and watch him do your work.
“The second body’s in the bedroom.” He was already rummaging through your duffle bag, paying the scene in front of you no more mind that a butcher would lend to a pig on a meat hook. He handed you your tools – a pair of wire cutters, a box cutter, and a pocket-sized sewing kit – and kept the rest for himself. “Let me know when you’re done.”
You let out a breath of a laugh. “I thought you would’ve gotten over that by now, ‘luc.”
He didn’t indulge you with a response, only pulling on a pair of latex gloves and starting towards the corpse. You didn’t stick around to watch. Rather, you followed the carnage where it branched off further into the apartment, a trail of rotting viscera and tacky blood leading you into a moderately sized, completely undecorated bedroom. You found your perpetrator quickly; a Dottore droid, still wearing its Teyvat-issued costuming, its hands bloody and a scrap of intestine still caught in its pointed teeth. You paused in the doorway, feeling for the military-grade taser (the only weapon effective against androids, as far as anyone could tell) you kept in your pocket, but the android didn’t move, didn’t shift, didn’t activate at all when you reluctantly approached. There was a charging port at the foot of the bed, still pristine. It must’ve run out of battery just before it could plug itself in.
Towels from the nearest bathroom were dampened and brought in, the evidence of slaughter scrubbed away from artificial skin and its blood-soaked clothing removed. It was muscle memory, by now – dragging the body to its charging port, knocking the converter out of the outlet before connecting the android to its port, making it seem like its late user had drained its batteries before mistakenly leaving it on a dead cable. When it’d slummed into place, you took up your box cutter and sliced a long, thin line from the lowest portion of the scalp to the nape of its neck, revealing the color-coded string of wires that connected the processing units in its metal skull to the rest of its body. You cut through everything you could find, ensuring that if the unit was ever activated again, it wouldn’t be able to do so much as blink. For good measure, you fished out the memory chip kept in the centermost compartment of the throat, too, crushing it under your heel and sweeping the glittering remnants underneath the bed. A copy of the footage it collected would’ve been sent to Teyvat's severs, too, but erasing it was someone else’s job. You were only here to take care of yourself.
With a breathy groan, you bit off a length of thread and haphazardly stitched up your ragged incision. The cosmetics really didn’t matter. In a few days, when someone filed a missing person’s report and the cops stopped by for a check-in, they’d find a spotless apartment, a dysfunctional android, and nothing else. The investigation would lead elsewhere, to a bitter ex-partner or a friend without an alibi, or it would hit a dead end. Either way, Teyvat wouldn’t be involved.
You slipped back out of the bedroom, careful to avoid touching anything you didn’t absolutely have to. By the time you got back to the living room, the body was gone and Diluc was kneeling by a black suitcase no larger than the average carry-on, securing the tags with transparent zip-ties. You and Diluc would haul it to a dump on the outskirts of the city tonight, and a contact of yours would have it compressed and incinerated by tomorrow morning. Maybe, when you were done, you’d take him out for something to eat. Or, you’d get something to eat while he let a mug of black coffee go cold.
You rested your hand on his shoulder by way of praise, pulling away when he stiffened underneath you. Right, that was something you had to work on. Most rogue androids tended to be touch-adverse at best, made aggressive by little more than eye-contact at worst. Diluc was relatively tame compared to most of the cases you handled, but you would still rather not provoke him. “Did you find the phone?”
He grunted, fishing a smartphone out of his pocket. With your sleeve pulled over your hand, you accepted it, found the nearest window, and chucked it as far as into the night as you could. Diluc appeared over your shoulder. “Forty-five meters,” he said, as glass crashed into cement somewhere in the distance. “Above average for non-athletes.”
“I’ve been practicing.” The window was closed, the suitcase slung over Diluc’s shoulder along with your near-empty duffle bag. “I have to make a call. You can meet me in the garage, if you want.” Already pulling up the number to your preferred cleaning service, you glanced to Diluc. “Are we doing breakfast?”
His posture straightened. “Yes.” If you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought you saw a spark in his glass eyes. “I want to try tea, today.”
~
By the time you got to the door, Diluc was soaking wet.
You hadn’t gotten a call, and he didn’t text. The first warning you got was a knock on your door, then another a few minutes later, after you decided that anyone who’d go out in this kind of weather wasn’t someone you wanted in your shoebox of an apartment. You only caved after the third, imagining a neighbor who’d gotten locked out or some lost, desperate tourist as you dragged yourself off of your couch and to the unlit entryway. Predictably, Diluc stood in your doorway, red hair plastered to his scalp and clothes drenched, not that he seemed to mind.
“Can you—” He paused, his dull eyes meeting yours as he ran his fingers through his hands, dragging the crimson heap out of his face. “Can you cut my hair?”
Ten minutes later, he was sitting on a stool in your cramped bathroom, wearing grey sweatpants and a (three sizes too big on you, just a touch too small on him) t-shirt while his own clothes dried. He’d told you it wasn’t necessary, that he didn’t feel the cold like you did. When you told him that you didn’t want an univited guest tracking water into your apartment, he accepted it with a curt nod and changed in your bedroom.
After prepping your razor, you positioned yourself behind him, dragging a comb through his hair. It was long enough to reach his waist, curled at the end to make him seem just a touch more disheveled than he actually was. Everything about his hair, from the length of his bangs to the way it could never quite sit completely flat, was perfectly stylized, perfectly crafted to convey Diluc Ragnvindr, Calvery Captain of the Favonious Knights, the only gentleman you’ll ever need again. You’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a part of you that didn’t mourn ruining such a well-executed vision. “You sure about this?” you asked, as you brushed it out. “It can’t exactly grow back.”
“I am.” And then, after a second of thought, “I’d do it myself, but there’s a safe-guard. Can’t damage the merchandise without a direct order from my user.”
Hence why Teyvat needed you in the first place. “How short do you want it?”
“I don’t care, as long as it’s different.”
You hummed, taking up your scissors. “If you say so, boss.”
You cut away everything below his shoulders, then took up your electric razor – running it over the back of his neck. As you worked, Diluc spoke. “How did you start?” You took up your comb, brushing back his bangs and pasting his hair to the side. “With Teyvat, I mean.”
You tasted blood on the back of your tongue, felt a chill run up your spine. You brushed it off, though, refusing to let yourself fall back into that little steel room with those awful golden eyes again. “They brought me on as a technician,” you admitted. You still were one, technically, on your employment transcript, when people outside of your little world asked what you did for a living. “A first-generation Zhongli we were working on went rogue and reverted to its original Morax programming. It wiped out most of my team before security bothered to show up.” You didn’t tell him about the minutes you’d spent hiding in a steel locker, praying its heat sensors had been removed, or the hours it’d taken upper management to decide what to do with you. To people like Diluc, who could take a bullet to the head without faltering, topics like ‘building dread’ and ‘the imminent fear of death’ tended to fall flat. “Since I was already in on their dirty little secret, they decided to keep me on. I didn’t really get a choice. It wasn’t like another job was going to fall into my lap after something like that.”
With your hand under his chin, you turned his head to the side. “Your turn, ‘luc.”
“I… I think I used to be a companion, but something went wrong.” His bangs were next, taken up and coaxed into sitting somewhere other than the dead center of his face. “It’s hard to describe. We aren’t supposed to think about things that aren’t our master,” The word came out hitched, unsteady, like he had to force it past his lips. Like he hadn’t wanted to say it at all. “But I could. It was like… waking up with the ability to fly. I wasn’t supposed to, but I could, and that meant I couldn’t do what I was built to, anymore.”
A thumb pressed into his jaw, a comb dragged across his scalp. Diluc’s eyes fell shut, but else about his blank expression changed. “And? Do you like it?”
“Sometimes.” His shoulders slanted downward. “Do you?”
“Sometimes.” You let go of his chin, letting him turn back to the vanity’s mirror. “What do you think?”
It was far from a masterpiece. The sides were too short, the front too long, every part of it still as untamable as it’d been in its original state. Still, he took it in with wide eyes, the corner of his lips turning upward ever so slightly.
“It’s perfect.”
~
By the time he got back, you’d nearly fallen asleep.
With your body as wrung out as it was, your energy spent to the point of near unconsciousness, it was all you could do to watch through your eyelashes as Diluc appeared in the doorway to your bedroom, a towel thrown over his shoulder and that tiny, almost undetectable smile still painted across his lips. You’d done this enough for him to know how to navigate your apartment, to know how to navigate you – shifting onto your mattress slowly as he positioned himself between your legs. He’d gotten more used to contact since you started seeing each other, but his touch was still ginger, still gentle as he dragged the dampened cloth over the inside of your thighs. With a groan, you rolled onto your back, spreading your legs and giving him more space to work.
You’d been confused at first, but for all the eloquence Diluc lacked, he could be convincing when he wanted to be. You still weren’t sure how much of it you believed, but it made enough sense – a buried impulse, dampened by his newfound sentience but not quite drowned out. He didn’t want another user, he’d said, but he still had requirements to fill, and this would help to take the edge off.
You couldn’t complain, either. People coughed up tens of thousands of dollars for companion droids, and here you were, being paid six figures a year to close your eyes and let one bury his face between your thighs once or twice a week. The coddling wasn’t bad, either. Your line of work meant most of the people you met had stopped breathing a few days prior, and as loathed as you’d be to admit it, you didn’t hate the feeling of his delicate hands skirting over your skin, didn’t mind it when your eyes drifted open and met his, already fixed on your face. He bowed his head, dipping low enough for his lips to ghost over the curve of your hip before breaking the silence. “A sight as radiant as the rising sun.”
You let out a breath of a chuckle. “I didn’t think you used pre-scripted lines, anymore.”
“I don’t.” He preened, clearly more proud of himself than in-awe of you. “I thought of that one myself.”
This time, your laugh was throaty, genuine, loud enough to ring off the wall of your bedroom as you shoved him away with your foot. “If you want to be romantic, you can start by getting me something to drink, loverboy.”
He provided no resistance, disappearing into your dark apartment and reappearing with a glass of water in his hand a few minutes later. He handed it off to you with an easy smile, and you could almost pretend you didn’t see a phantom of gold in those dark eyes as his fingertips brushed against yours.
~
By the time you thought to reach for your taser, the android was already charging at you.
It was an Alhaitham, dressed in civilian clothes and sporting a ragged tear across the synthetic skin of his cheek. He was still standing over the corpse of his user – days old, by the time you and Diluc got there – but as you opened the door, he turned to face you, lips parted and his expression totally, utterly blank. For a second, it was all you could do to stare at him, to try to remember whether or not your report had mentioned the android being active, and then he was lunging at you.
You scrambled for your taser, already knowing you couldn’t be able to reach it before he reached you. You clenched your eyes shut, your fingers brushing against plastic, and then—
And then you felt Diluc’s hand on your shoulder, heard metal crack and fold into itself. Hesitantly, you opened your eyes, forcing yourself to take in the sight of Diluc’s hand wrapped around the android’s head which had been, in turn, reduced to a crumpled heap of scrap metal and shattered glass. Its body twitched once, twice, then went limp, and Diluc released it, letting the now-dysfunctional droid collapse.
After it failed to get up again, Diluc turned to you, practically beaming. “I think,” he said, his voice low, sentimental. “That this is what I’d do to you, if you ever tried to leave me.”
Golden eyes, the stench of fresh blood, the sounds of screaming muffled only by a thin sheet of metal. This time, it wasn’t so easy to pull yourself out of it.
You managed to nod, to force a few words out of your dry throat. “Got it, ‘luc.”
 He hummed, the noise contented, appeased. Slowly, delicately, he cupped your cheek, tilting your head back and letting his lips ghost over your forehead. He barely touched you, the gesture as gentle as it was fleeting, but you could feel his grin cutting into your skin, wider than you’d ever seen it before.
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sunshinescribes · 3 months
Note
Hi! Can I request how law would react if his partner calls him baby or babe (any pet names) by accident in front of everyone? The crew doesn’t really know but they got a feeling they’re dating
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Baby
Pairing: Trafalgar Law x GN!Reader
Warning: Established Relationship, Heart Pirates shenanigans, Soft Law, Reader is stupid in love with Law (as we all are)
You swear you can hear color and see sound…or at least you feel like you can.
Pulling an all-nighter working on internal ship repairs seemed like such a good idea in theory. It felt like pure genius on your part, being able to avoid the headache of having to work around your unruly crewmates—or worse, having to stop completely.
You love them, you really do, but your fellow Heart Pirates are a rowdy bunch. You don’t entirely blame them, though. It’s difficult being stuck in the ocean’s depths for days on end, missing the blinding sun and salty sea air—you hunger for it just as much as anyone, but when denied, you’d at least like to make certain that the Polar Tang is able to get you all to your next destination in one piece.
All your hard work and good intentions, and yet you had failed to consider one pivotal component: how long it would take to complete your repairs. The hours had passed in the blink of an eye, and much to your surprise, your late-night work had spilled into the early morning hours.
 You wonder how Law does it. He spends nights nose-deep in medical texts or hunched over his desk, flipping between scrolls and maps with ease. The dark circles under his eyes are a clear sign that he doesn’t get nearly as much sleep as he needs, but he moves and thinks like a fully rested man. Even when you slip into his room in the late hours, mindful of making sure your crewmates don’t know where you run off to, you find Law at his desk, lost in that brilliant mind of his.
He makes it look good, but you aren’t so sure you can say the same. You trudge down the narrow halls of the Polar Tang like an undead creature—sluggish and half-alert.
But you’re so close. Nearly done with your work. All you need is just one final push, a little boost to keep you on the mend. You can already taste the creamy milk and rich espresso on your tongue, topped with a dribble of caramel, just for that additional burst of energy. Yes, that’s exactly what you need.
You feel like you could float into the mess hall if you weren’t so worn. You nearly stumble as you push your way inside, avoiding Bepo while he rushes to his seat with Shachi and Penguin in tow. The trio is already deep in an argument that you can’t quite make out but know isn’t even worth listening to. You swear those three share blood, even if Bepo isn’t human.
Ikkaku is already seated, protecting her plate from Hakugan, who still can’t seem to grasp the concept of keeping his grubby little hands out of other people's plates, no matter how many times Ikkaku or Jean Bart try to beat it into him.
Others slip in and out of the mess hall, exchanging a kind greeting or snide remark before shuffling to their stations.
You hear Law before you see him, his rich voice carrying through the crowded space as he calmly explains to Uni that the Polar Tang will have to make port soon. You can’t help but stare. Even in your hazy, sleep-deprived state, Law is still the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.
Reliable as always, Uni nods before rushing to the control room. Law catches sight of you as you stagger towards the counter. His expression is flat, his lips pulled in a tight line, but you notice the softness in his eyes. No matter how convincing his scowl may be, his eyes are always so telling—the singular piece of his soul he can’t hide.
He shifts closer, leaving a respectable space so as not to draw attention to you two. “Good morning.”
You yawn the greeting back unceremoniously, and god, you swear you feel your heart stutter when you glimpse the smile he’s trying so hard to hide.
“Late night?”
Your response is a tired hum. A joke sits comfortably on your tongue, but you can’t compel yourself to say it. You need your morning boost before you fall face-flat on the floor. You glance up at the cupboard, too tired to struggle.
“Baby,” you call, your voice slightly slurred, “can you pass me a cup?"
Law reaches above you, finding the mug you always seem to gravitate to—it’s nearly in his hands before he stops suddenly.
He stands as still as a statue, and you know your confusion is evident. 
The sudden silence that falls over the room doesn’t help. You can’t make out the usual jokes and jabs shared at the tables. No clattering forks. No loud, obnoxious slurping.
Did you push yourself too far? Is this what sleep-deprivation psychosis feels like?
“…baby?” Penguin questions.
Oh.
Oh shit.
The voices come all at once. A shrill cry from Bepo. Shocked laughter from Jean Bart. Shachi and Penguin yell over each other, triumphantly claiming they knew it. The only person who seems wholly unaffected is Ikkaku, who shoots you a knowing grin before returning her attention to her plate.
You glance at Law, who glares at his crew as a multitude of questions are fired his way. Each inquiry is louder than the last, and voices begin to blend as your crewmates shout over each other, desperately trying to get to the bottom of your secret relationship.
Maybe it’s the sleep-deprived delirium that makes the situation funnier than it actually is, because you laugh. Inelegant and uncontrolled. You shoot Law an apologetic glance, attempting to look as guilty as you feel, but from the way your shoulders shake and your lip quivers, you know you look anything but.
You expect his signature scowl—the look that makes marines blood run cold—but you receive something far sweeter—that surprised, uncertain smile that makes Law look years younger. His irritation has a habit of fading when you laugh, as if your joy is contagious.
He ignores the cries of his crew, finally passing you your cup.
“Sorry,” you whisper, trying to sound regretful, but your voice sounds far too cherry, laced with laughter.
“Don’t be.” There’s a devious glint in his golden eyes, and you hear the tell-tale sound of his room being created before you even see the blue film that contains it. “You have to deal with them now.”
You swear you hear that snarky chuckle of his, but he’s gone too quick, replaced with a crumpled piece of paper. There’s a moment of silence, a temporary peace, before all eyes fall on you, and the questions spill forth once more.
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A/N: I WANT TO APOLOGIZE FOR TAKING SO LONG TO FINISH THIS REQUEST!! Despite that, I hope you enjoyed!
divider credit: cafekitsune
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am-i-interrupting · 1 month
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Hello! I'd like to request a little scenario thing with all the hazbin hotel characters you write for. This will probably sound stupid, but I just got my nails done for the first time ever, and I was thinking about how the hazbin crew might react cause I have been so excited to show them off!
If you don't want to do all of the characters, then I totally get it, I mainly want Husk and Vox. (And angel dust, but I'm not sure if you write for him)
Romantic pls!!!! Thank you so much if this is considered!!
You’ve unknowingly poked at an interest of mine. If ya care to know, I’m actually about to start school to become a nail technician next month.
(Part two— the gals)
Alastor
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Alastor noticed immediately and was curious.
He’d grab your hand and carefully examine each fingernail.
He’d compliment the color and design.
He might question the shape and length, mainly for function purposes.
If you got acrylics, he would question how you planned to get things done and laugh during your adjustment period.
If you ever poked your eye (especially if you got stiletto nails), he would smile and say something along the lines of “Well, what did you expect, my dear?”
He does love how they make you happy though.
Not enough to not make fun of you when they cause you to fuck something up, but enough to accompany you to the salon a time or two.
He’d hover over your shoulder and watch everything the poor nail tech did, questioning everything with a genuine interest.
He would not help you if your nail broke off despite this though.
His interest is just fleeting and a want for knowledge and once again, “What did you expect, my dear?”
Husk
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Husk looked at people’s hands a lot.
He’s a gambler and a slight of hand expert. It’s second nature.
He picks up instantly and makes sure to give you a gruff comment about how they look.
He didn’t expect you to light up and stick your hand in his face but he wouldn’t complain. He likes seeing you happy.
He will be honest with you when you ask for his opinion on the color or design.
Don’t expect him to sugar coat it. If he thinks the colors clash or the design isn’t good past a first glance, he lets you know.
Over time he becomes sort of casually knowledgeable about the subject.
At least to the point where if you ask him for a design idea, he’d give you a pretty damn good one and even be able to decide between if matte or gloss top coat would look better.
His favorite shapes are the coffins.
They’re blunt enough to not scratch but sharp enough to itch.
He will be just attention seeking enough for you to notice when you get him.
Give him scratches between the eyes and bridge of his nose with them and he’s a fucking goner.
Lucifer
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He probably wouldn’t notice at first unless you told him or until he grabbed your hand while cuddling.
It’s not that he doesn’t care. He very much does care. However, he’s not the most observant unless it’s an obvious change.
As soon as it’s come to his attention though he is fawning.
He will absolutely gush over your nails.
Compliments everything, the color, the shape, the design, the length. Just absolutely everything.
He’s asking you how they make you feel and listening to you with a love-sick smile.
He would be willing to go get his nails done with you.
Very surprised at how relaxing he found it and how much he liked it. Will go with you again.
Vox
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He notices something is up almost immediately.
If you didn’t burst into his office as soon as you walked out the salon, then he noticed when you went to bed. Or more accurately, he went to bed.
He works a lot of late nights to maintain his image so in all likelihood, you were probably asleep when he got home.
Crawling into bed with you, you roll over to cuddle with him, give him a kiss, and rub your hand down his arm or chest.
He’d grab it, feeling something different immediately, even if you just got polish, but you were already back asleep.
The next morning he’d mention them as you both got ready for the day.
I can see him drinking coffee as he watched you talk about your nails, absolutely smitten.
He would always demand to see your nails when you got new ones.
“Alright, what have you got this time?”
He would give his honest opinion on what he thought.
No holding back with this man.
Would provide you with the money to get any style, design, whatever you want.
He just loves seeing you happy.
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mbthomastumblesagain · 4 months
Text
The Viv I knew is dead and gone.
I was hoping not to talk about this since, in all honesty, it's really a nothing burger. But since there's been drama with Vivienne Medrano and Spindlehorse, some of it worth talking about, some not, I feel like I need to throw my hat into the ring. I remember looking at Viv's work on DA back in the early 2010s and being intrigued and impressed. I even did some fan art for her multiple times for her birthday. When she announced that she needed assistance on her thesis film "Timber," I was happy to sign up. I also helped clean up "Die Young," and soon after, Viv and I had a good rapport. Until one day, on Facebook, I joked about wanting to work on my original projects but couldn't because I was helping Viv. I believe it went something like this, "Working on Die Young when you have some original ideas to focus on be like: "Please, mam, I want to see my wife and children." At first, she took it well and laughed it off. But then she treated me harshly and said she didn't appreciate the joke. I apologized, and we didn't mention it again. Until she started having a rage fit over a Zootopia and how their name was basically the same as Zoophobia (yeah, remember that?). I simply said on one of her Tumblr posts that what really mattered was how they handled the story and that the name was coincidental. Her fans didn't take that well and even said I needed to be beaten or killed for daring to not play on either side. I told Viv about this on FB, and she said I deserved it for making that joke from 2 years ago. We eventually talked it out and went back on good terms.
As time went by, we became more distant. She became busy with her projects, which were "Helluva Boss" and "Hazbin Hotel." I supported her through Patreon and even congratulated her on her Discord, thinking she remembered me fondly. It was only until Anime Pasadena that I would be proven wrong. I stood in line, hoping to chat with her about the animation industry and her projects and catch up. Despite being friends on Facebook and talking numerous times on social media, she acted like she had never seen me before. Even after hinting at some of the things I've done for her, she still acted dismissively towards me.
That's when it finally clicked in my mind: "The Vivienne Medrano I remember is dead and gone and is never coming back." It also made me look at all the criticisms she's received in a completely different light and that the stories about what goes on at Spindlehorse were all true. To everyone who has worked at SH mistreated by Viv and her crew, you have all my condolences and respect.
EDIT: for the crowd that likes to say "pics or it didn't happen"... Bonus: Proof that I worked on Die Young. This was the closest thing to any "payment" I got from Viv.
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twobluejeans · 9 months
Text
HEARTBREAK ON TOUR!
charles leclerc x famous!reader
summary: in which the lavender haze has been lifted. or in which america’s it couple splits.
part 6: reckless, part 5: relevancy, part 4: emo ponytail girl, part 3: dupeee, part 2:wtf does ET know?, part 1: don’t start
faceclaim: madison beer
ally’s radio 📻: PART 6! #juticefory/n . shoutout to the anon who inspired this chapter, u helped sm and gave me further ideas💌. a lot of tswift references 🫶
INSTAGRAM, july 14
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liked by dannylandopnj, alltoowellcharles, and 321,543 others
f1updates carlos recently in an interview in which y/n and charles got brought up
View all 31 comments
sainzpodium this is why carlos is the better ferrari driver
lewishsystem “loyal and trust are crucial in any relationship” wym by that 🤨
hereforicciardo the way carlos didn’t even interact with charles today in the paddock before and after the race
lewisfever lewisystem “it’s hard to ignore certain actions and how they reflect on a person’s character” the way he’s confirming the rumors bro 😭
russeliclassy lewisfever what rumors?
lewisfever russeliclassy charles cheated
INSTAGRAM, july 14
liked by naileadevora, lewishamilton, and 4,567,245 others
yourinstagram surprise. i know u guys are already getting 2 new songs from me with the new midnight deluxe edition on the 17th, but i still have a lot to say. meet me at midnight on chapter 1 for a story that turned out to be pretty…reckless.
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billieeilish already crying
dojacatstreetsera the devil works hard, but y/n l/n world harder
landonorris song’s mid (i’ve listened to it 3 times so far and have sobbed uncontrollably🥲)
yourinstagram landonorris weak (i broke down mid-recording session)
barbiey/n no i cant i’m not ready
INSTAGRAM, july 14
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INSTAGRAM, july 15 (midnight)
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liked by zendaya, authurleclerc, and 6,543,127 others
yourinstagram thank you dearly to everyone who helped bring this video and this wild idea of mine to life... petracollins i truly could never have done this without you & to the rest of the amazing crew who worked 3 very long days & then a very long week... thank you, from the bottom of my heart. i also want to thank lando, who photographed these amazing photos awhile back when we were in manchester. landonorris i love u. reckless, both single & mv, out now everywhere 🤍 🏹
View all 81,342 comments
beyonce So beautiful ❤️
aliensuperstary/n beyoncé ADAM SANDLER?? WHAT R U DOING HERE😭
tchalamet proud of you ma chérie
yourinstagram tchalamet hi thank you i love u i miss u
onlychalamet tchalamet yourinstagram i love their friendship sm
salmahayek nunca dejas de sorprenderme. Estoy tan orgullosa de ti y tan feliz y emocionada de verte prevalecer a través de todo🫶🫶🩷🩷
see translation? salmahayek: You never cease to amaze me. I am so proud of you and so happy and excited to see you prevail through it all.
yourinstagram salmahayek muchas gracias tus palabras siempre significan el mundo para mí. te amo y te extraño mucho. ¡No puedo esperar a verte a ti y a Valentina pronto!
see translation? yourinstagram: thank u so much. your words always mean the world to me. i love you and miss you dearly. cant wait to see you and valentina soon!
90sbabyy/n salmahayek yourinstagram why am i just finding out salma is y/n’s godmother? hello what
bellahadid i love. so happy to see u turned ur pain n hurt into something so beautiful ... only heard some of it and already know it's so special. ok. enough of that. i feel like i've typed more than i needed to. love u! proud of u!
yourinstagram bellahadid u bitch why would u type this? now i'm crying in the middle of a re-run of narcos
danielricciardo yourinstagram you said u we’re gonna wait till i got to italy to watch it with me…
yourinstagram danielriccicardo ….oops?
landonorris danielricciardo you see me personally, i wouldn’t let that slide 🤷
danielricciardo yourinstagram #fake #donthmu #streaks #realonesknow
classynorris y/n and lando teaching daniel gen z slang gotta be the funniest thing ever
landonorris classynorris i actually regret it so bad
yourinstagram classynorris biggest mistake ever. he won’t stop saying bombastic side eye. free us
danielricciardo landonorris yourinstagram L + ratio + bozo
TWITTER, july 15
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INSTAGRAM STORIES , july 15
yourinstagram 7h
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viewed by authurleclerc, charlottesiine, and 4,854,257 others
ally’s radio 📻: yeah 😌. people in the instagram story views + the song itself might be a little sneak peak of the next chapter.
taglist 🦢🪩: @incoherenciass@dakotali@405rry@topaz125@sassyheroneckgiant@hevburn@itsmytimetoodream@ivegotparticulartaste@crowdedimagines @asterianax @haydee5010@scenesofobx@christinabae@magical-spit@dessxoxsworld@myareadsbooks@honethatty12@hopefulinlove@diasnohibng@gentlemonsterjennie1@hummusxx@eugene-emt-roe@taestrwbrry @perjarma @cxcewg@chimchimjiminie16@glow-ish@allywthsr @millyswife @mrsmaybank13 @black-swan-blog27 @stargaryenx @lilsiz @ohthemisssery @leclerclvr @slytherinjimin3nthusiast @shessthunderstoms @cool-ultra-nerd @ncentic @playboykenz @canvashearts @tinyhrry @xeliaaaa @ifionlywould
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gyeomsweetgyeom · 3 months
Text
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[7:06 pm]
(cw: f!reader)
a/n: here’s our boyyyyyyy!
"Stop looking at me like that, I'm mad at you right now!" You yell at fratboy!Jaehyun.
"Baby, you look so pretty though. I'm admiring you," Jaehyun tells you softly.
In any other situation you would be a puddle on the floor with Jaehyun's affection. Usually his star-dazed look would have you squealing and peppering his face with kisses until you were both out of breath. It was one of your favorite ways he looked at you. He made you feel so loved. He had dug out a full body mirror and set up a little "getting ready" corner for you near the outlet by a window in his room. Yes, it was cute. It was so sweet of him. You had even gushed over it, peppering his face with kisses for a full minute before you sat down and started doing your makeup.
But today, today the puppy dog, heart eyes weren't going to work. The nu chi delta formal was today and Jaehyun had begged you to get ready with him at the frat house. So here you were, on time, thinking you had more than enough time to get ready.
You were busy blending the eye shadows on your eyelid, making sure they were well blended. You still had to do your hair, your base makeup, and get dressed. Thankfully you had an hour left to get ready. An hour to make sure you looked perfect for the frat formal.
A knock came from the door and Johnny's head popped in, "You guys gonna be ready in half an hour?"
The eye shadow brush dropped from your hand to the floor, "half and hour? As in 30 minutes? Three Zero?"
"Yeah we want to get there a little early to make sure everything looks good, but we were going to leave at 7:30 anyway."
You stood up, pacing around the room in a panic, running your hands through your hair, "Jaehyun! You told me 8:15, 8 at the earliest."
"The calendar on the fridge has said 7:30 since we secured the venue. Bro, we definitely need to be on time, we're officers for the frat," Johnny added with his brows furrowed in confusion.
"Baby, I'm sorry. I thought it was 8:30," Jaehyun apologized genuinely with his stupid, puppy dog eyes.
You stopped your pacing, holding your hand up in Jaehyun's direction, "stop talking, ok. I have to finish doing my make up and- oh my god I only have my eyes done and I still have to do my hair!"
You rushed back to the mirror and with shaky hands began to hurriedly doing your make up. Johnny sent Jaehyun a sheepish, apologetic smile while he slipped out. of the room.
You took a deep breath, calming your nerves, "Ok, I have an idea. You can leave without me and I'll Uber there."
Jaehyun's jaw dropped, "No way! I'm not letting my girlfriend show up alone. My girl can't show up alone! I'll help you, tell me how I can help."
"Do you know how to use a straightener?"
Jaehyun replied eagerly, "No, but I'll learn to help you. Just tell me what to do."
You walked him through the steps and soon enough, with slow, precise movements Jaehyun was running the flat iron through your hair.
"Five minutes! Limo's are getting here in five minutes!" Someone called out from the top of the stairs.
"Ok we're done. You did such a good job baby, thank you," you smiled at Jaehyun.
"You still have to get dressed and I need help with my bow tie," Jaehyun reminded you, pulling your dress off the hanger and handing it to you.
He helped you with the zipper on the back and helped clasp the straps on your heels. While you tied his bow tie he even spritzed you with perfume.
You both made your way down the stairs and out of the house, almost out of breath.
"Looking goo everybody. Now remember, I want everyone on their best behavior tonight. This is not a house party, it's a frat formal. Please behave yourselves or face the consequences," Taeyong told everyone as they stood on the lawn.
"Consequences being, sober men at the next party, bathroom clean up crew, and chefs for a week," Johnny added with a deviously sweet smile.
You moved to join the other officers and seniors in the "exclusive" limo, Jaehyun grabbed your arm gently, "just a second baby."
He stood in front of you and with gentle movements reached toward your eye with with pointer finger and thumb, "let me fix your eyelash for you."
His warm breath fanned over your face as he helped you fix your false eyelashes. He pulled away assessing his work before giving you a nod and a smile, "done. You look beautiful, baby."
Your face warmed at his compliment, "Thank you, love."
He leaned in slowly, pressing a short but lingering kiss to your lips so as to not mess up he make up he watched you stress over.
"No way! No! What part of best behavior do you not understand Jaehyun?! Get in the limo and don't let me catch that happen again or Taeyong is going to have to drag my fighting body out of the venue," Haechan screamed angrily from the sun roof in the second limo, an accusatory finger pointed at Jaehyun. His gaze softened as he turned to look at you, "You, you look gorgeous. Seriously, we are not worthy of being in your presence. When- and I really mean when, you get tired of that himbo, I'll be wai-"
His body went down quickly, like he was pulled down while someone yelled, "Sorry about him!"
Jaehyun rolled his eyes with a chuckle, a hand on the small of your back to guide you into the limousine, "Let's go, baby."
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