#✨🤍Behind Blue Eyes✨🤍

[nelselfships]

this was another one that i’ve been working on for a while and finally finished it:) imma go to bed now!! good night/ good morning selfshipping community u.u

[remlionheart]

Hello beautiful

Can I put in a request where Megumi and reader both have a partner but are fully attracted to each other and Megumi of course plays it stoic, indifferent etc. but then something happens( I haven’t figured out what event exactly, maybe they get drunk at a party?I’ll leave it up to you 🤍) and they succumb to their needs( a little coercion from Megumi oops) and Megumi is just so pussy drunk, whiny, non sensical blabbing mess and reader baby traps him 🥴🥴

I just need Megumi so bad, he plagues my mind every second of the day… I need therapy and Jesus. Thank you if u decide to go with it, love everything you do 🤍🤍🤍

Hi pretty ♡ Sorry to say - no Jesus here, but maybe this can be therapy for both of us bc I’ve been thinking about this ask heavily since I got it. And what better time to start a depraved lil drabble than at midnight on the night of a full moon? 🌙✨

((as always, all characters are aged up to 21+, if u don’t enjoy that feel free to scroll along ♡ all trigger warnings are in the request itself, lemme know whatcha think, luv u ✩࿐࿔ ))

⋆˙⟡MDNI ⋆˙⟡

Megumi’s new girlfriend was sweet, kind, cute. Always by his side no matter what and tonight was no exception.

She was smiling at you with her hand wrapped delicately over his arm, asking you how you’d met your date… who was also, at your side and wrapped around your arm. He was cluelessly bantering back and forth with her while you and Megumi exchanged the same pointed look.

It was subtle, the way his blue eyes lingered on your boyfriend’s hand placement, watching him gently squeeze your hip as he laughed at a joke that two of you had missed entirely.

You'd only been been dating this most recent fling for a few weeks - it was hardly anything to be jealous of, but the fact Megumi had noticed at all gave a sick part of you satisfaction. It was an unspoken rivalry you had with him, one that you typically found yourself on the losing end of. He’d fuck someone, so you would too. He’d date someone, so you would too. He’d show up to this stupid fucking party with a date, so you would too.

It was the same pitiful dance that you'd been doing for the last year and a half, your feelings for him always right on the tip of your tongue but never at the right time.

Watching his girlfriend rest her head on his shoulder as the four of you continued on with your mindless banter was your own personal hell and yet, you said nothing. Instead, mirroring them, clinging onto your own date harder as you pretended to care about whatever work story was being tossed around.

The night carried on like this for the next hour or so as the once small house party started to evolve into something rowdier. The music getting louder and the living room getting more and more crowded as you knocked back three more drinks.

You were dizzy, trying not to lose your balance while you excused yourself from your group to go venture upstairs in search of a bathroom. Your boyfriend had offered to come with you, but you insisted that you were alright, shooing him away with a smile as you told him to go get another drink.

He seemed to be enjoying himself and you didn’t want that to end just because of your pathetic urge to chase after someone who clearly didn’t want you back.

Your footsteps came to a clumsy pause, a small, drunken laugh escaping you as you entered the bathroom and caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Your red dress was shorter than you remembered it being when you left, your hair just as perfectly disheveled as your thoughts. You steadied yourself before taking a seat, letting the music from downstairs provide you with a comfortable sense of privacy.

You had just washed your hands and were in the middle of throwing your hair into a bun when the door opened unexpectedly. Your ankle almost sprained from how quickly you’d whipped around, your heart stalling in your chest as Megumi looked back at you with the sound of the lock latching behind him.

“The hell are you doing, Fushiguro?”

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, his arms folding over his chest as he rested his back against the door. “Since when do you date coworkers?”

You almost laughed you were so stunned, your posture straightening a bit as you continued to keep your attention focused on your reflection and not on him. “Since when do you care who I date?”

“I don’t,” he shrugged, “just don’t want to hear you complain about it later when things don’t work out.”

You rolled your eyes, biting back a stupid smile at how annoyingly apathetic he had to be at all times. “And you felt it was necessary to follow me into a bathroom to let me know that?” You countered, finally turning to face him.

It was the first time all night that you’d seen his stoic demeanor start to waver.

His eyes narrowed as he raised his brow at you, letting his arms fall back to his sides. “You’re drunk.” He quipped, taking a slow step towards you. “Just because your boyfriend’s careless enough to let you go running around by yourself doesn’t mean I am.”

Your throat was suddenly dry at how close he was to you, his tidal wave eyes flooding your senses as they dragged down to your lips.

“Your girlfriend’s downstairs.” You reminded him, desperately trying to ignore the heat that was gathering at your center.

“I know,” he breathed, his hand traveling up to the back of your neck as he held you in place. “But you’re right here.”

“Megumi…” Your voice nearly trembled, your insides catching fire at the feeling of his lips grazing yours. “We can’t…”

Your protest was hardly convincing though - not with the way your body was having its own private conversation with his. Practically begging to be touched as he wedged his knee between your thighs just to see how much temptation you could withstand.

He knew you wanted this. Knew that you thought about it just as much as he did, if not more. You’d always followed him around like a lost puppy. Always mirrored whatever he did like your intentions weren’t glaringly obvious. He’d been fighting to restrain himself for the last year and a half. Did everything he could to not succumb to the carnal urges that plagued him every time you showed up to his house in the shortest sundress he’d ever seen. He kept himself busy with other girls - lied to himself and pretended that it wasn’t you he was thinking about when he closed his eyes and thrusted into them. But you were everywhere, not just tonight and not just right now, but always. A constant thought in the back of his mind. A task he couldn’t ever mark as complete. A gnawing, agonizing, need that he couldn’t fight for one more fucking second.

“I’m so tired of it always being someone else,” he said against your lips, letting out a heady little exhale at how submissively you were staring back at him. “I want it to be you.”

The coiling tension in your lower abdomen felt like it was going to snap as the firmness of his knee pushed at just the right angle, giving your clit a much-needed brush of friction while his words swirled lazily through your mind.

He was right- you must’ve been drunk because there was no way he was prompting you to grind on him. No way that he was parting your lips with his tongue. No way that his grip was tangling into your hair as your hips began to rock rhythmically against him. No way that he was helping lift your bra over your head all while a mere staircase separated the two of you from your partners.

There was simply no way any of this was real.

His mouth was warm against your skin, kissing and nipping across your collarbone while his hand palmed at your chest. “S’fucking pretty,” he praised, his gaze pointed at the way your dress had nearly hiked all the way up your hips as you kept riding his leg.

“Show me what you do when you’re alone thinking about me,” he panted, “just like that, don't fucking stop.” His voice was sinful bliss trailing back up your neck, your dress now only covering your midsection as he pulled the straps of it down over your arms so that the top half met where the bottom half had ridden up.

You were dangerously - pathetically, close to cumming, not caring at all who heard you as your nails dug into his shoulder blade. Your needy little clit still pushing and pleading into his leg. “More,” you begged, “please - this isn’t - fair.”

“It’s not fair?” You hated the moan that slipped out at the sickeningly sweet way he mocked you. “Poor thing." His mouth was warm and torturous in the shell of your ear. "You know what I don't think is fair?"

The whimper you let out was all the answer he needed though.

His fingers wrapped delicately around your neck - an odd sense of security laced into them despite the way they were cutting off your oxygen. “I don’t think it’s fair that I have to want you this bad.” His other hand suddenly roaming along the curve of your hip. “I don’t think it’s fair that I have to pretend not to care when you do dumb shit like dangle new men in front of me.” His lips returned to yours, catching all the little whines that were escaping you. “And I really don’t think it’s fair how hard I’m about to fuck you while he’s downstairs waiting for you.”

It definitely wasn't the sentence that should've brought you to your breaking point, but it did. His grip tightened on you, fingertips digging perfectly into each side of your neck making your vision blur and your center ache. Your moans were every bit as broken as your thoughts, your eyes not leaving his while he nodded back at you.

"That's it." His grasp slowly began to release, loosening up with each whine you let out for him. "Cummin’ so easily for me.”

The room was still hazy, electricity dancing along your skin as he gently helped bring you to your feet before turning you around. You watched him from the reflection in the mirror, a dizzy smile cutting across your face while you watched him slip your dress all the way off and bend you over the counter.

"Fuck," he groaned, admiring the slick glistening off of you as he undid his belt. He ran two fingers between your folds, his mouth slightly dropping open at how sensitive you were to his touch - the cute little noises he could coax out of you by barely doing anything and the way your back arched so perfectly for him.

"Look at me," he breathed, placing a firm hand on your shoulder as he lined himself up with you.

His eyes trailed back up to yours, his tip carefully prodding at your entrance while he watched the desperate little expression that had taken over your features. "God damn," he hissed, his breath hitching in his throat at how faithfully your walls were swallowing him.

You were so wet, your brain and body both completely enamored with the sight and feeling of him sinking into you. The waiting game you'd been playing was well worth reward and you were enjoying every inch of your prize.

He was stretching you so tenderly, going deeper and deeper with each thrust. Though he'd told you to look at him, he seemed to be the one having a hard time maintaining your stare. His pretty blue eyes were glazed over, his composure starting to leave him the longer he looked at you.

"Oh my god," he groaned, "why do you feel so fucking good?"

His rhythm became harsher, both his hands grabbing onto your hips as he used you to his liking. “You know how many times I've thought about doing this, huh?" You weren't sure where your moans ended and his began, the rest of the world slipping away as he continued to blissfully bully his way into you. "Look at you, so pouty and pretty. Taking me like such a good girl."

His words made you clench, your cunt nearly suffocating him as he kept letting out more incoherent praises. He was just as lost as you were, just as dazed-out and unaware of his surroundings. The only thing keeping him grounding was the sound of you whimpering his name and how it kept getting needier and louder.

He wanted people to hear. Wanted everyone in the entire house knew that he had you bent over with your tits pressed against the counter and your ass flushed firmly against him. Wanted them to know that it was his name you sang out when you came.

“Megumi -” you whined, “right there, ohmygod, right.. the - re.”

Your walls spasmed around him, little hearts and stars suddenly filling your vision as your eyes rolled back. “Please,” you begged, chasing the blinding white light of your release as far as it would go, “cum inside me, please - fuck, don’t stop.”

He knew he shouldn’t. Knew you weren’t on birth control. Knew you well enough to know how desperate you were to keep him around. He knew all the risks. Knew what a terrible fucking idea it was and yet,

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he grunted, his movements just as needy and out of control as yours. “For me to fill you up,” he was losing himself to the thought, “to go back downstairs with me dripping down your leg? Yeah, I bet you fucking would.”

It was the worst idea. Every reasonable part of him screaming at for him to stop.

“Y - es! Please, please - ah~!”

But the sound of you begging made that reasonable part of him disappear entirely, replaced by an absolutely unhinged part of him that he didn’t even know existed until that very moment.

He wanted your belly to swell, wanted everyone to look at you and know that it was him who had bred you and that it was him who would do it again and again. He was going to make the whole world know you were his and it made him fucking feral.

He groaned, chest heaving as he gave you one last punishing thrust, burying himself as deep as he could as he twitched inside you. His breath hitching in his throat, his mind only filled with you and your body only filled with him.

A beautifully damning warmth coated your walls while you shot him the prettiest, haziest smile he’d ever seen. Both of you slowly returning back to reality.

He carefully pulled out of you, watching the mess the two of you had made spill out of you as he grabbed your shoulders and turned you around to face him.

His hands were warm against the sides of your neck, thumb placed firmly under your chin to tilt your head up towards his, “Next time you decide to shove another guy in my face,” he said, “you better make sure they’re not dumb enough to leave you alone with me.”

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

I’ve never done a request, and obviously you can say no. But I’d love to hear what you think the sleep tokens would be like with a gf/wife/whatever who had a baby and are not comfortable with the way their body has changed??

I’m 9 months post partum and I’m having a hard time with this, so, idk, you’re so good at writing.

Thank you ♥️♥️

Be kind to yourself mama, you grew a whole new life. ✨🤍

Vessel

Let’s face it, you were a muse to him before your pregnancy but the thought of you growing his baby alerted his brain chemistry. He wanted to be a part of everything. The smallest of things like your back or side itching was interesting to him. So he weathered the storm in your head for you. Jumping at any given moment to remind you just how beautiful you were.

That didn’t change after you delivered the baby. Hair tangled and unwashed for days? Still pretty to him. He would just offer to take your bundle of joy and let you have your time. Or if you need help he’s settling the little one and he’s right there in the shower with you. Sitting you down on a little stool and washing your hair for you. Shirt covered in spit-up and breast milk stains? He couldn’t care less you are still stunning to him.

So he sees it. The glazeqd look in your eyes as you feed your baby. Head thrown over the back of the sofa. Vess settles beside you. Handing you an iced water bottle. Waving a little waffle bar in front of you. One that you just look at before shaking your head. That’s enough to make him frown.

“Do you want a different snack?”, he glances over to the kitchen, “Frozen yogurt bites? Nutella on toast? Crisps?”. You shake your head at it all. “Okay… do you want me to cook you something. We have that brownie mix or I can make you pancakes?”, and you know he would because there wasn’t a craving that went unsatisfied during your pregnancy.

“An apple of carrots might just do”, you shrug. Vessel tilts his head to the side, “You crave sugar when you breastfeed. Apples are tart, well the ones we have are. I could run to the…”, you reach out pressing your hand onto his thigh. “There’s no need, we’ll just eat dinner later on”, you try to smile at him but you can practically see the gears turning in his head. He doesn’t push but his eyes are demanding answers.

“It’s time I seriously start thinking about losing the baby chub I still have”, the words feel sour on your tongue, and from the way Vessel frowns you can tell that it tastes just as sour to him. “Your body grew our child”, he shakes his head. “Yeah, but I want to fit into my jeans again”, you scoff, not sure why you were biting back at him. Vessel stands up, reaching for your hand, “Can you stand up real quick”, and it’s not a question. His arms are steadying you as you both move. The baby lets out an annoyed grunt from all the commotion. One that Vessel is quick to soothe with a couple of kisses to their head.

And then he’s careful dragging you towards the bedroom. Towards your biggest enemy. The full wall mirror. But he doesn’t let you halt as he pulls you right in front of it. Standing protectively behind you. Leaning in to kiss the side of your head, your shoulder.

“I’m starting to think that we see very different things when we look in the mirror”, he says. “Bet, you are a sex god and I am just…”, you start only to be cut off by Vess, “I dare you to finish that sentence”. And there’s an edge to his voice now. The protector in full force. You feel your eyes sting slightly. “You are talking shit about a body that grew our baby”, he continues, hands reaching for your sides as he pulls you against him. “You grew eyelashes, little toes, blue eyes here”, his fingers snake beneath the stained shirt, gliding effectively over your skin. “But I was pretty before this”, you hiccup slightly, watching him watch you in the mirror. “You were”, he admits before adding, “You’re gorgeous now”. Your heart skips a beat and you let a sob slip past your lips. Leaning your head back against his chest. Vessel is right there ready to kiss each tear away. Ready to breathe you in. Until you believe in it too.

iii

He had just come home after rehearsals. Arms full of shit he randomly bought at a grocery store cause Thursday was always movie night. He halts listening for the noises around the apartment. The bub should be having an evening nap now and at times it means you’re also napping so he doesn’t want to disturb either one of you. It’s the light sniffing that makes his senses perk up almost immediately. So iii is kicking off his shoes in a hurry as he moves towards the sound.

He finds you in the laundry room. Hands clenching onto a white dress he knew you had worn so many times back when you two used to go clubbing still. Your tear-stained cheeks kill him internally. He can handle lots of shit but not you crying. So iii is reaching out to you, making you jump ever so slightly. “Shit, I didn’t hear you”, you breathe out, quickly wiping your damp cheeks. But you know that the damage is done. He saw you. Lying about it would be pointless.

He comes to tower over you, both palms cupping your cheeks as he lifts your face so he can see you better, “Hey, what’s wrong?”, he muses. Blue eyes drowning you in. “Come here look at me”, he urges, reaching down to hold onto your thighs as he lifts you, setting you down on the washing machine. Parting your thighs so he could step between your legs.

You let out a deep sigh, “Just don’t feel like me”, admitting it out loud feeling just painful. “What do you mean by that?”, he has an inkling where this is going but he’s not about to jump to conclusions. Even more so not pointing it out because he doesn’t want to fuel the fire that’s already burning.

“Have you seen my tits my shirt straps are holding on for dear life”, you grunt, with a shake of your head. “Oh I’ve seen them”, iii can’t help but smirk, “wouldn’t mind seeing them more often”, he wiggles his eyebrows, tilting his head to the side so he can lean closer to you.

“iii”, you can’t help a little snort that slips past your lips. “What? I am an honest man”, he puts his palm on his heart before reaching out to squeeze your thighs, “Same goes for your thighs if I could I would be all over you”, he wraps your legs around his torso. You look up at him, “Yeah but I’m… don’t you think that I’m ugly now, not as hot?”, you ask, before chewing on the inside of your cheek. “Not as hot?”, iii raises his eyebrows, “Mama, you are the hottest. Sizzling hot, look”, he presses a finger to the swell of your breast, letting out a hiss before blowing at the tip of his finger as if he had just gotten burnt. You can’t help but let out a laugh as you shake your head, “You’re unbelievable”. A grin spread over his face, “No, you are unbelievable, unbelievably beautiful”, he pointed out, reaching to cup your jaw, “You brought life into this world that’s fucking breathtaking”, he muses against your lips before leaning in to kiss you.

ii

He has the baby sprawled on his forearm. Little koala straddling a tree trunk. He loves it like that. The little kicks growing into sleepy calmness. He’s mixing eggs with a fork with the other hand. Humming a tune beneath his breath, a new melody he’s been working on with the boys.

“I’m not going”, his happy bubble is busted with the sound of your voice as he turns towards you. “What do you mean you’re not going?”, he frowns slightly. Eyes falling over your curves and the summery dress you had on. Maybe not going was a good option. If he got the baby to sleep he would have you all to himself and if he could just yank the skirt part up…

“Look at me”, you huff in frustration making ii blink. “I am looking, I’m looking”, he nods not following your train of thought. “And?”, you say in frustration. He frowns slightly, “And?”, he repeats your question because he’s genuinely not seeing an issue or maybe the dress was new and he should have said something about it. “I look pathetic in this. I can’t go out looking like that”, you pull at the material of your dress before turning to the side, pinching the bride of your nose.

ii bounces the still half asleep baby in his arms, before carefully lowering them into the swing. He doesn’t have to see you. He can feel the tears streaming down your face. Each tear leaving a new crack in his heart. So he’s turning to you, reaching for your hand but you bat his arms away from you. “Nah, I ain’t having any of this”, he muses, stepping in front of you, pulling your hands away from your face, and guiding them over his torso instead.

“Did someone say anything about the way you look?”, he asks, “Cause I am not opposed to shoving drum sticks up someone’s ass”. You just shake your head, “Everything just feels different, I feel like every part of my body is not mine”, you admit, lip wobbling. “You were just pregnant, you’re feeding a child now and your hormones are once again having a field day”, he states firmly, “Why are you taring yourself apart for something so natural and normal?”, “I just want to feel like myself again”, you muttered, resting your head on his chest. “We can go clothes shopping if you hate what you have, clothes are meant to fit you not the other way around. We can go work out together if that would make you feel better and I am not referring to sex, although…”, ii trails off. “ii”, you grunt, making him smirk, “I’m just saying, if you need me home more so you could do more stuff that would make you feel better, you let me know and I will make it happen”, he reaches out, cupping your face. Carefully brush some of your hair away from your face.

iv

Ivy had a feeling that something had been off for some time now. You’ve been pushing his hands away from your body, or simply escaping his embrace. You stopped changing in front of him. Instead opting to take your clothes to the bathroom. But it’s the Sunday morning that does it for him. He had just settled the baby for the morning nap after feeding them the bottle. He hears the shower running and as if on out-pilot, he’s yanking his shirt over his head. Grabbing the baby monitor and walking towards the shared bathroom. He’s tugging at his shorts when his shoulder collides with the door. He frowns, reaching for the handle only to find it locked. A part of him understood your need for alone time but he much rather get told off and be shushed out of the bathroom than be locked out of it.

So he sits on the bed, right in front of the door. Waiting for you to come out. Not angry not frustrated, but feeling the need to finally bring this up. You unlock the door sometime later. Halting mid-step when you see iv sitting there. “I wasn’t expecting you here”, you chuckle slightly. “We always shower together”, he points out. You watch him for a moment. “You locked the doors”, he says softly, “not that it’s a bad thing, you can do that just… I feel like you’ve been avoiding me”. His words make your heart ache.

“And if I’ve done something to upset you, I would love to know 'cause I am too stupid to see that”, he gets up walking closer to you. You let out a deep sigh but don’t push him away this time. Missing his touch just as much. “I’m sorry”, he mumbles, and you shake your head, “You haven’t done anything wrong it’s all on me”, you let your fingers run over his arms as you think over your next words. “I just… I don’t look the same and I… I guess I was hoping I could bounce back and then you wouldn’t have to see me out of shape”. The sentence comes out like one big breath. You watchiv blink slowly. He opens his mouth a couple of times before closing it.

“I’m sorry but that’s the stupidest thing I’ve heard”, he shakes his head, “What do you mean bounce back? See what? I’ve seen everything. I put frozen pads in your nickers may I remind you of that, after putting that squirty thing to hose it down”. “It’s a peri bottle, not a hose”, you roll your eyes with a shake of your head. “Doesn’t change the point”, he shrugs.

“I just don’t like how I look and I guess…”, your voice dies down as you bite your lips. “Well, rock into my fucking garden. I’ve done a shit job of reminding you of how beautiful you are to me”, iv wraps an arm over your middle, pulling you close to him. “Should have seen through this. I just thought you needed alone time”. He presses his forehead to yours, “Not running a hate campaign against yourself. We can’t have that, love”. You give him a sad smile, “I’ve missed you”, you mutter. “I’m here and I’m taking over your worshipping”, his hands reach behind your thighs as he pulls you up and into his arms.

[litgwritersroom]

PLEASE! PLEASE! Hear me out!

Please write a scenario about how Lewie met MC in one of his games but didn't get a chance to ask her name after his game because he lost her in the crowd or something. Then he finally met her again at the villa. Cause that sweet golden retriever boy fell in love with Mc the moment he saw her in the villa, and he is like all in on her already??? Like how is that possible??! 

Thank youuu🤍✨🥺

SHOOT YOUR SHOT

Lewie / OC - 4100+ words - @mrsbsmooth

She was screaming his name, but he lost her in the crowd. He's not letting her disappear again.

Lewie jumped up and down on the spot with the other guys in the tunnel, waiting to run onto the pitch. He was first. He was always first. He was the bloody captain, he had to be first. Project confidence. Project leadership. Cool, calm, collected.

But he was nervous today.

If they won today, they’d go up to League One. He’d triple his salary, minimum, probably quadruple it if Terry kept him on as captain. He’d be able to pay off his parents’ house in three months. His life would change if they won today. 

Mac clapped him on the back. “Good?”

“Mostly,” Lewie responded, swallowing hard. 

“Ahh, none of that,” Mac grinned. “S’just a game, innit?”

Lewie wished he could laugh at it. He stretched his neck as the doors opened. He took the hand of the player escort kid next to him who looked almost as nervous as he did. 

Game time.

Cup finals were always packed, but Lewie had never heard a roar like the one he heard as he stepped onto the pitch that day. It was a wall of sound, almost making him flinch as he dropped the kid’s hand, gave him a high five, and took his position.

Lewie was breathing as steadily as he could, but he couldn’t shake the nerves from his shoulders. It felt like a noose had tied itself around him. What if they lost? What if they didn’t get promoted? How many more years did he have in this league? He was already 24. If he didn’t go up this year, his chances of ever going higher were starting to get slim. He’d never pay off his parents’ house. He’d never provide for his nieces and nephew. 

The stands were a sea of red. He tried to focus on the green beneath his feet. But his eye was caught by a flash of white amongst the red. 

“Lewie! Lewie! Hey! Over here!”

A big group of girls, head to toe in white, chanting and screaming and clearly drinking. They were right behind the goal. But as soon as they realised they had his attention, they began squealing. 

And then, he saw the sign. 

A huge piece of cardboard. Two words. 

An arrow pointing to its holder. 

MRS PRITCHARD

Lewie laughed, almost throwing his head back as he beamed at the girls. They started jumping up and down, screaming with excitement that he’d seen them. He was too far away to see them up close. He just turned his attention back to the pitch, still laughing. The whistle blew. The crowd screamed. The match began. And honestly?

He was feeling a bit better. 

The match started the way all matches do. Slowly. Sussing each other out, no-one wiling to give away their game plan too quickly. He focused on the game with every shred of brainpower he had, and he was having a bit of a blinder, if he did say so himself. He barely missed a thing, ending up right where he needed to be as his team edged closer and closer to the box. 

Levi passed him the ball, and Lewie beat three defenders to get it to Mac, but as Mac took the shot, the ball bounced off the crossbar. The crowd groaned, and the team in blue took possession. Gary forced them over the sideline, and Lewie sprinted back to position. But play had stopped. One of the opposing players was stalling, pretending Gary had kicked him. 

“Lewwwwwie! Lewwwwwie!” 

He chuckled, rolling his eyes. He was a little closer to where the girls had been. He placed his hands on his hips, to catch his breath, glancing over at them again, and once more, they screamed. Mrs Pritchard held up her sign again. 

But this time, he could see the girl holding it.

And he did a fucking double take. 

He was still a ways away, but even from this distance, he felt his eyebrows shooting up. 

Soft, dark waves, a bit of a tan but a lot of a smile, the enormous, excited grin drawing a smile from him, too. White trousers so tight they looked like leggings, and their team’s white away jersey tied into a crop at the front. She must have been freezing, but she looked like she was keeping herself plenty warm by jumping up and down as she beamed at him. 

Damn.

“I love you, Lewie!” she screamed, sending a chuckle through the dozens of fans around her. He took a deep breath, and laughed it off, shooting her an amused smile. 

Play resumed. Unfortunately, most of it was down the other end of the field. But now, he had even more reason to get the ball up to his team’s end. 

Every time he even came close to the group of girls, they erupted into a wall of noise, and not just for him. They were almost louder than the rest of the crowd combined, and when Lewie bent the ball right into Mac’s boot, they screamed so loud he was sure their voices would give out. But Mac missed again.

Fuck. Nil-all at half time.

The team made their way into the locker rooms. Lewie laughed off all the comments from his teammates about what the hell was going on. He honestly had no idea who these girls were or why they’d suddenly decided to show up to scream for the team, but he wasn’t complaining, and neither was anyone else. 

“D’you see the sign?” Gary laughed.

“Yeah,” Lewie shook his head, sighing. 

“Did you see the stunner holding it?” Levi flicked an eyebrow.

The locked room fell silent. Lewie sighed even harder. “Yes, I did.”

Wa-heyyys echoed off the walls, and Lewie, one more time, shook his head. He glanced over at Mac, but he wasn’t paying attention. He was taking deep breaths, focusing. 

“Hey,” Lewie said, sitting next to him. “You good?”

Mac grunted with annoyance, relacing his boots for the second time.

Lewie sighed. “It’s only half time.”

“And I’ve already missed twice.”

“Yeah, and you can miss five more times, as long as we hold them to zero as well. This game doesn’t rest on your shoulders, mate. If it did, Terry would’ve taken you out already.”

Mac furrowed his brow. 

“I mean you have missed twice already,” Lewie teased. “It’s a big goal. Just kick it in?”

Mac huffed a laugh, elbowing him hard in the arm. “Fuck off.”

Lewie lowered his voice, smiling reassuringly at his best mate. “Get out of your head. It’s just a game, remember?”

Mac nodded, taking a deep breath and giving him a brief smile of thanks. “So you really don’t know those girls?” Mac asked, shifting the focus off himself.

“No,” Lewie said, shaking his head. “Never seen a single one of them before.”

Mac’s mouth curled into a smirk. “Bet you might be seeing one of ‘em after, though?”

Lewie rolled his eyes, but couldn’t hide his smile. “I mean, she’s really shooting her shot.”

“With a fuckin’ Gatlin Gun. She’s comin’ on strong.”

Lewie laughed loudly. “Since when is that a bad thing?”

It wasn’t a question that needed an answer. The hint of a smirk on Mac’s face was now in full swing. Lewie didn’t mind a girl who went after what she wanted. He didn’t mind that at all. 

“So you’re gonna go for it?”

Lewie shrugged. “I mean, she likes footie, she’s pretty, and she’s got a big sign saying ‘I’m interested’. It can’t hurt to get her number?”

The second half started, and Lewie frowned as he looked towards what was now the opposing team’s goal. The girls would be all the way up the other–

“Lewie! Over here babe!”

They’d moved. 

He didn’t know how they’d managed, but they’d moved. The entire group of them were now at the other end of the pitch, behind the swapped goal ends. He smiled, shooting the pretty brunette a small wave, and she pretended to swoon and faint into her friend’s arms. 

He belly laughed at that one.

The match resumed, and if he’d thought they were playing well before, the second half had the team electrified. Lewie and Mac passed the ball back and forth without even looking, falling into muscle-memory and pure instincts as they did what they’d done since they were seven. Back, forward, time it right, bit of feigning, more than a bit of fancy footwork, and with every possession, they edged closer down to their end. 

Sixtieth minute, then seventieth, then eightieth. Nil-all. Lewie passed the ball to Kobi, who headed it to Mac– Intercepted. A bad pass, but not the end of the world. The ball went out, leaving the Reds with a corner. The others set up. Lewie moved backwards. 

But first, another time-wasting injury meant to kill their momentum. 

It was a tactic from the opposing team. It was meant to lower their adrenaline levels and catch them slow. The waterboy ran onto the field, tossing him a bottle. Lewie took a big gulp of gatorade, swishing it around his mouth. He needed to keep his adrenaline levels up. He–

“Hey Lewie!” a familiar voice called. 

He looked up. His brunette beauty’s arms were in front of her. 

Her shirt wasn’t. 

She was lifting it. She’d tucked her fingers under her bra, and flipped the whole thing up. 

She was flashing him. And she was not being shy about it.

He spat gatorade all over the pitch. 

Her rather fucking magnificent breasts were fully on display, and the crowd erupted with cheers, but no sooner had she done it, her friends were squealing with laughter and tugging her shirt down to cover her, but they weren’t quick enough. His eyes fell across her body, to the stunningly intricate tattoo painted across her ribcage. 

A red Welsh dragon.

Lewie could hardly breathe, coughing and spluttering gatorade as he tried very hard to remain cool, calm, and collected. But it was a bit hard to look any of the three when he could already feel himself furiously blushing. 

The other guys on the pitch were laughing their arses off at him, and he couldn’t help but join in. He’d never had attention like this before. He’d never been so ferociously and aggressively hit on, especially not while he was on the bloody pitch. 

He did not mind one fucking bit. 

She pulled her shirt down, and as she adjusted herself, her eyes didn’t leave his. She raised her eyebrows. And even though they were still a dozen metres apart, he could almost hear it in his ear. 

Your move.

He held her gaze for a second, smiling in disbelief and shaking his head with a laugh. That was definitely the adrenaline rush he needed. He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, still blushing furiously, and she beamed at how flustered he was. 

But before he could do anything, his attention was drawn by the referee’s whistle calling the game back into action. Lewie shot her a wink as he reluctantly jogged back to position. He was definitely getting her number after the game. 

But he never got a chance. 

Things suddenly picked up pace, and he didn’t have an opportunity to look back in her direction. He could hear screaming and yelling, but he was down the other end of the pitch, defending his heart out as the other team got close to scoring twice in seven minutes. But they held them off.

It was the eighty-fourth minute.

The lads bent over, their hands on their knees, puffing and panting as if they’d just run a marathon. 

It was a sign. It was time.

They got possession, and Lewie called the code they’d practiced for months. They’d pretend to be exhausted. To be slow, and late, and unfit. Let the other team think that this was everything they had to give. Lull them into a false sense of security. 

With seemingly no warning, a red jersey and a sharp undercut went sprinting at breakneck speed down the pitch. The defenders fell for it and gave chase, sprinting after Levi as he took the ball as fast as he could down the field. 

They barely paid attention to Lewie moving out wide to the left flank. 

Levi to Kobi. Kobi to Levi. Levi to Kobi. Kobi to Mac. Mac to Levi. Levi to Mac to Kobi to Mac. The defenders were focused. Completely focused. Lewie came sprinting up the left of the box, holding level to stay onside–

Mac to Lewie. 

The ball was in the goal before the defenders even looked in his direction. 

The crowd exploded, no one more than Mac, who took a running leap into the air to tackle Lewie to the ground. The guys screamed and yelled in his ear, celebrating along with the shaking grandstands. 12,000 people chanting his name. It was like something out of a daydream. Something he’d pretended and practiced as he ran drills in his backyard. 

‘Pritchard! Pritchard may have just taken them to promotion!’

He should’ve looked for Mum. Or Dad. Nana or Izzie or Josie or Teagan. His mates were here. His bloody under-10’s coach was probably here. But his gaze drifted back over to the area right behind the goal where the group of girls in white had been. Call it curiosity about what she’d do. If she’d flashed him over a decent pass–

She was gone. 

He furrowed his brow as he looked at the part of the stands that had previously held the pretty brunette and all her friends, but they were gone. Completely vanished, all of them, the only evidence they’d ever been there was a white feather boa flung over the back of one of the chairs. Lewie shook it off. Maybe they’d gone to get drinks?

But there were only ten minutes left in the match. 

Mac scored again, and Lewie looked around to see if he could see any of the girls in white, but all he saw was that same sea of red. 

The final whistle blew: 2-0. 

They were going up. Their team had been promoted.

The grandstands erupted even louder than they had for the goals. The air itself was shaking with noise. Lewie was so caught up in hugging his teammates that he barely realised fans had  started streaming onto the pitch. 

He was passed around between lifelong supporters he’d already come to know, and many he hadn’t. His shirt was grabbed, his back patted, his hair ruffled and his arms locked to his sides as he was picked up ad squeezed with surprising force. A beer was pushed into his hand, and he threw it back without a slight hesitation. He was so wrapped up in their victory that he almost forgot to keep an eye out for a group of girls in white. 

Almost.

He wasn’t the tallest on the pitch, but he was taller than most, but he still couldn’t see them.

He answered questions for the local paper, he posed for photos, he accepted the cup on behalf of the team and made the heartfelt, grateful speech he never thought he’d get to give, but he didn’t stop looking. 

She wasn’t there. Neither were her friends.

It made no sense.

He couldn’t wrap his head around why she’d do all that and just leave. 

But, as the confetti settled, the music started to wane, and the celebrations spilled into the locker room, Lewie realised. 

She had. 

She’d just left. 

It took him a while to get over it. Like, way longer than it should’ve. 

The guys made fun of him for it, obviously. “Way to Lewie’s heart is to ask him to marry you, then flash him your tits’. They were wrong– of course they were, that would’ve been insane. 

There had just been something about her. 

It wasn’t that he wanted to date a girl who regularly flash an entire stadium, but there was something about the confidence something like that would need. A risk taker. A joker. Up for a laugh and down for a dare. Someone who made a point of having fun with her friends. Someone who liked footie. Someone who wasn’t afraid to scream his name, to show up to his games and let everyone know she was there for him.

He’d never realised how attractive that was to him.

In fact, he kind of couldn’t stop thinking about it.

He tried asking the ticketing office about them, but one of the girls had shown up in person three weeks before and paid for the seats in cash. There was no name attached. None of the guys recognised them either, so they must’ve been from out of town. How they ended up in Northern Wales for a football match at a bachelorette party was both beyond him, and devastating that he might never get to even find out her name. 

He’d been lying in bed one night when he suddenly figured it out.

The next morning, he’d dropped by the security office before training. It’d been weeks, but he was sure they’d remember her. He was sure that was why. It had to be why. 

The Security team had, in fact, kicked Mrs. Pritchard and her entire friend group out of the stadium, but they’d just handed the girls over to the police. They hadn’t taken names. Lewie had nodded, and wrote down the number of the officer that took them in. 

But he’d never gotten the chance. 

Mac had walked past and seen him waiting in the freezing cold for the Security team to arrive, and he immediately staged an intervention. And that intervention involved the entire team making it their business to set him up on dates. 

Normally, he didn’t mind dating. Even if he didn’t have a connection with the girl, he’d enjoy taking them out for dinner, getting to know them, asking them about themselves– it was nice. 

But now, there was a question mark over it.

Would this be the type of girl who’d come to his games and scream his name? The kind of girl who’d shoot her shot in front of all her friends and 12,000 strangers? Did the girl across the table from him have that kind of confidence?

And for every girl his mates set him up with, the answer was no. 

It was a year later his mates told him what they’d done.

He didn’t think about her as often any more. He’d been on a few nice dates since. 

But he still thought about her.

He’d kept his searching low-key. He didn’t have much of a social media presence, and for once, he almost regretted not having one. One Instagram DM from one of her friends girls could’ve solved the mystery for him. But even after he set up a profile, that DM never came. He wasn’t one for dating apps, but he’d kicked himself a few months later when he’d realised he might’ve been able to swipe right on her if he’d set one up that day. 

But he didn’t think about her as much any more.

The day his phone rang, he’d thought it was a prank. ITV calling him to bring him in for an interview for Love Island. He hadn’t even applied– which surprised them, because they apparently had a long and very detailed application form, with many, many pictures of him shirtless in the locker rooms at training. Fucking Mac. 

Terry thought it’d be a good idea. Good promo for his personal brand. Good publicity for the club. Levi threw a fit. He’d wanted to go on Love Island for years, and Terry had always said no. 

“Yeah, but Lewie’s not gonna put our entire Public Relations team on stress leave,” Terry had said. The guys had all laughed. 

Mac grinned with his hands behind his head. “Nah, he’s just gonna get on TV so that he can subtly communicate his beloved flasher he’s willing to put a ring on it.”

Lewie huffed.

The guys laughed a lot harder at that. 

So, two months after that, he stood just inside the Majorca villa with three other guys, waiting to go and pick a girl out of a lineup as if they were picking footy teams at lunch in primary. He was glad to be the one picking. Because this time, he wasn’t the only 8-year-old who could do a scorpion kick. If there was a scorpion-kick equivalent in dating, he didn’t know what it was, and he definitely didn’t know how to do it. 

He just knew footie. 

It wasn’t in his nature to go after a girl unless he knew for sure she was interested. He knew footie, but he didn’t know dating. Maybe that was why he’d been so drawn to Mrs Pritchard. He’d never even met her and he’d known where he stood.

His phone chimed, and his eyes widened. He was going first.

He took a step forward, placing his hand on the door handle, trying to breathe. The likelihood of one of them holding up a sign for him saying ‘I’m interested’ seemed a lot less likely here than–

Than…

The villa door opened, and suddenly, he was in the league final all over again. He knew that in the memory, there was 12,000 people screaming his name. Screaming for his team. 

But all he could see was her. Caramel waves. Tan skin. A smile wide enough to take down a grandstand. 

A red Welsh dragon painted across her ribcage. 

He stopped at the top of the stairs, his mouth falling open in sync with hers. But instead of screaming and jumping up and down, she furiously blushed and dropped her eyes. Lewie made his way over to stand beside the host, smiling politely at the other girls, but there was no need to make small talk. 

“So, ladies, this is Lewie. 24, Football captain from Wales. Lewie, let me introd–”

“No need,” he smiled. “I already know who I’m picking.”

There was an interested smattering of whispers, but he walked forward. 

The stunning brunette was blushing something awful, and she didn’t look up at him until he was standing right in front of her. 

“Hi,” he said.

She looked up, meeting his eyes, and smiled sheepishly. 

“I didn’t think you’d remember me.” 

“Bit hard to forget someone I’ve barely stopped thinking about, Mrs. Pritchard.”

Her breath caught, but he didn’t take his eyes off her. That pink dusted across her cheeks was unlike anything he’d ever seen before. The most beautiful orchid-pink, painting her like watercolours across her cheeks and the tip of her nose, and it was him that put it there. He suddenly kind of understood how she’d had the confidence to shoot her shot like she had.

Lewie reached for her hand and she gave it to him. He linked their fingers together. 

“Can I pick you?” he asked. 

“Yes, please,” she grinned. 

“Well, then, you’re gonna have to tell me your name.”

She smiled. “Bree. My name is Bree.”

“I’m Lewie.”

“I know.”

Lewie turned back to the host, smiling widely. “I’m picking Bree.”

Bree smiled so widely that he wondered if she might break. The urge to just pick her up and kiss her was one he had to push down. It would’ve been way too forward, and he probably would’ve come on way too strong. Going all in for a girl fifteen minutes into filming beginning was the stupidest strategic move he could possibly make.

The other girls cooed as he stood beside her, waiting for the next guy to come out, and one by one, they paired off with the other girls, until finally, the host said goodbye. 

Bree immediately turned to him. 

“I saw you, by the way,” she whispered.

He furrowed his brow. 

“Your goal. I saw you score it. And I saw you look for me. I was being dragged out by security at the time, but I always wished I could've told you that I saw it.”

He studied her face for a moment, watching the sparkle in her eyes; the light catch in her hair, the way it had that chilly May afternoon. The urge to kiss her was back. The urge to pull her into his arms and wrap her up in them and not let her out of his fucking sight ever again. He wished he was bold enough. He wished he had the confidence she’d had. He just… He…

Fuck it. 

Lewie captured her chin in his hand, and in one swift movement, he’d pressed his lips to hers. There were excited laughs, and knew the eyes of the entire villa were on him, but he didn’t care. 

Because Bree was kissing him back.

She threw her hand around the back of his neck, splaying her fingers on the back of his head, deepening the kiss as she pulled herself into his chest. Leaning over the top of her, she fit him perfectly, like he’d kind of always known she would. 

He’d found her. He’d finally found her.

He wasn’t letting her go again.

[shiftingparadise]

I want you to (part 2)

Here's a part 2, hopefully you'll enjoy it just as much. I'm going to work on your requests again. Enjoy reading 🤍✨

PS: I really want to continue Soft Spot, anyone any ideas? 🥰

WARNINGS: smut - angst

Word count: 1979

“I got something for you”, a soft smile on his face. “An envelope?”, I frowned. “Open it”, a spark in his eyes. “No, you didn’t. How did you get tickets to the opening of his art show? W-we weren’t invited”. “Well, now you are”, he chuckled. “How did you-“. “Doesn’t matter”, he gestured for me to come over, “Everything for my princess”. “Thank you”, I hastily sat down on his lap before plastering kisses all over his face. “I can’t believe I get to be one of the first persons to see his work”. 

I sighed as I relived the memory. How could he fake something like that? He seemed so content, so proud of himself for making me happy… Now, he wanted nothing more than to see me cry. It all felt so cruel to me; so unfair.

“I don’t want to today”, my eyes glued to the floor as I sat down on the bed. “I don’t care”, his hand softly wrapped around my throat, “I’m going to make you mine”. “I’m already yours”, I whispered as my hands were tied behind my back. “Because I force you to”, he took a step back. 

I rubbed my wrists together, to loosen the rope around them. I didn’t understand why he tied my wrists together, there was nowhere for me to go; nowhere I could go. 

“Blue suits you well”, his eyes studied the lingerie he chose for me, “Goes well with those bruises I gave you yesterday”. 

A sudden hate started to rise to my throat. I didn’t want him to find me pretty. At least not like this.

“Those aren't bruises”, I narrowed my eyes, “You bit me”. “Only because you were acting like a brat”, he roughly grabbed my jaw. “Let go”, I tried to pull away. “Again? Haven’t you learned your lesson?”, a disgusted look on his face. 

Feitan never hurt me. At least not like he hurt others. Sure, he bit me, he sometimes even scratched my back a little too hard, but he never cut me. He never even tried to break my fingers or my leg. He never did any real damage. 

“What are you going to do? Bite me? Like a dog?”, a defiant look in my eyes. “Watch it”, his eyes grew dark. “Or what? I’m not scared of you”, I sat up straight. 

 H-huh?, my eyes widened as I felt the back of his hand against my cheek. This was the second time he hit me. It was a sudden reminder of his strength. 

“On your hands and knees”, his voice colder than usual as he freed my hands. “N-no”, I loudly swallowed. “I won’t hold back this time”. 

He didn’t need to raise his hand. The way he looked at me was more than enough to make me obey. 

“Good”, he got behind me as his fingers gently traced over my spine. I flinched once I felt his cold fingertips. “Oh? What’s wrong?”, he mocked as his hand wrapped around my hair. Without saying anything else, he pulled my head back as his lips hovered next to my ear. 

“Scared?”. 

“Yes”, I tried to hold back tears. 

It was best to just go along, to give him what he wanted.

“I thought you weren’t scared of me”, he pushed my head into a pillow as his other hand gently pulled my panties down. “N-no”, my knees pulled together like magnets. “Don’t”, he softly pulled them back open with his knee. A chuckle as he looked down, his digits already where my body needed them the most. 

I closed my eyes in shame. I didn’t want him to notice how much my body needed him.  

“I’m going to breed you until you can’t walk anymore”, his tip already pressed against my entrance. “Even when I hit you, when I hurt you, you’re body still wants me to fuck you. Isn’t that funny?”. 

“Please Feitan”, I closed my eyes, not sure what I was pleading for. I didn’t want him to stop, but I didn’t want him to continue either. It was a constant battle. 

“I can’t wait to see your belly”, he grunted as he pushed in, “You’re going to look fucking perfect with my baby inside you”. 

“F-fei-“, I lifted myself as he pushed even deeper. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight”, he chuckled as he picked up the pace, “I want to see you cry, you know that? I want to see that cute nose turn pink, your eyes all swollen… But you’re already used to this, aren’t you? You’re used to being my pretty doll that I get to fuck whenever I want”. 

Used? I didn’t need to get used to it. I enjoyed it every time. Even if I cried, even if I begged him to stop... I never really wanted him to.  

“W-wait”, I tried to protest as he flipped me onto my back. “What if I carve my name in your skin, would you cry then?”, a sudden edge in his tone.

I closed my eyes in response. I didn’t want to see the look in his eye; the joy he felt.

“Tsk”, he clicked his tongue as he got more rough. It seemed that he got agitated for an unknown reason. 

He didn’t want you to know how soft he was for you. He really wanted you to be scared for him, but he didn’t enjoy seeing you like this. He couldn't keep this up. His heart ached at your hurt.

“Don’t worry”, he softly guided my chin so I could look at him, “Won’t do stuff like that. Not to you”. 

An unwilling flutter in my stomach. 

“J-just keep going”, I arched my back. “Don’t worry”, he let his head rest against mine. A sign he wanted to feel my touch. “You’re such a good boy”, my hands gently wrapped around him, “You’re always making me feel so good”. 

He didn’t know what happened inside him; why there was this sudden warmth running through his veins. 

“More”, a whisper I could barely hear. “You’re going to make me come”, I gently grabbed his hand, guiding it to where I needed him the most. “Fuck Feitan”, I smiled as my breaths got heavier, “You’re making me feel so good”. 

He pulled away. His eyes were now glued to my face. There was this unsure look on his face; as if he didn’t understand what was happening. 

“I want you to come with me”, my eyes rolled to the back of my head, “Want you to fill me up. W-want to have your baby”. “Y/N-“, his eyes widened as I pulled him closer each time he pushed into me. He didn’t answer. For the first time, he stayed quiet. ‘F-fei”, I softly sighed as I came undone. He followed shortly, but there was no warning when he came. No sigh, no moan, nothing. 

“Feitan?”, I sat up straight as he got dressed. “I’m going to tape your mouth shut next time”, he sat down next to me again, “You’re getting too confident”. 

My eyes went round in disbelief as I noticed a smile on his face. 

“I want to have twins”, his smile disappeared again, “A boy and a girl and I’m going to give them everything I didn’t have. A loving mother, a warm house, toys, books, … I want to go on holidays together, I want to celebrate Christmas, I-“, he suddenly paused. “I know you don’t want to be mine, but I know you’re going to give our children everything they need”, he looked to the ceiling, “Just as I know you’d protect them with your life if necessary”. 

He was beautiful when he showed his soft side. I could look at him forever when he was like this. 

“I need to go out at night, for work. I’ll see you in the morning”, he placed an awkward kiss on my temple, a gesture he probably never meant before. "And don’t try to leave. I’ll have someone here to watch you”. 

—-

“Get up”, his cold voice rang from behind the door, “Breakfast is ready”. I wanted to rebel, to tell him I wasn’t hungry, but it would be futile. “Y/N?”, he raised his voice from a lack of response. “Just a minute”, I forced myself to answer before putting on the clothes he laid out for me. 

Every day, around 6 AM, he’d come into my room and neatly lay out clothes for me. Yesterday it was a short skirt with a Ralph Lauren sweater, the day before there was a beautiful, pink dress… 

“I want to wear sweatpants”, I sighed while I adjusted my skirt. For some reason, he gave me an extra short, black dress today, paired with some Lousboutins. Needless to say, I didn’t feel very comfortable. “Hm?”, he raised an eyebrow as he took a bite from his toast. “N-nothing”, I hastily forced a smile on my face. “Eat”, his eyes low. 

God, I hated this silence. There was nothing left for me to do other than wait. 

“I need you to do something for me”. “What?”, I softly replied. “Went out last night”, his brows pulled together, “I need you to take care of me”. “Take care of you?”. “I’m hurt”, he slowly stood up, “I need stitches”. “I-I can’t… I’ve never-“. “Bathroom”, he interrupted my nervous pleas. “B-but-“. “Won’t ask you twice”, his cold eyes stared into mine. 

I nervously shuffled behind him, scared to admit that I couldn’t stand the sight of blood. 

“I’d normally ask Machi”, he grunted as he leaned against the sink, “But she’s on a mission”. “Okay”, I wrapped my arms around my waist as he took off his shirt. “See?”, he looked down at the wound. 

My stomach started to turn. Feitan had wrapped a bandage around his waist in an attempt to stop the bleeding, but the once-white fabric had already turned red. 

“Here”, he grabbed a couple of things out of the cabinet. “D-don’t you need something for the pain?”, I slowly walked closer. “It’s fine”, he grunted as he got rid of the bandage. 

Right. I should’ve known better than to look at the wound. 

“What?”, his cold eyes grew more tired by the second. “N-nothing”, I tried to get some feeling in my fingers by shaking my hands. “Hurry, it hurts”, he let his head fall back. I nodded before I cleaned his wound. 

So far, so good.

“Shit”, Feitan grunted at the stinging sensation of the disinfectant. “Sorry”, I softly responded before looking at the needle. “It’s fine, just hurry”, he looked to the side. “S-so”, I cleared my throat as I held out the needle. 

I couldn’t do this. I knew I couldn’t. Why did I even try? 

“Think 8 stitches are enough”, he pulled his brows together as he examined the wound. 

I just nodded as my head started to spin. The wound looked even more awful as blood kept dripping down onto the cold tiles. 

“Y/N?”, Feitan’s voice sounded strange. As if he was yelling from far away. “Y/N?”, he repeated as dark spots took over my sight. “Fuck”, he gritted his teeth before catching me. 

—-

“Hm?”, I grunted as I tried to figure out where I was. “Finally”, Feitan sighed, “You were out for a couple of hours”. “A couple of hours?!”. “You were probably tired. It’s not like you sleep much at night”. “H-how do you know?”. “Doesn’t matter”, he placed a bag on my lap. “What’s this?”, my brows pulled together. “Sweatpants and a sweater”, a discontent look on his face, “You wanted some, right?”. “Y-yeah”, I softly replied. “I got some more clothes. They’re already in your closet. Wear whatever you like”. "Y-your wound-", I didn't care about the clothes. "Already took care of it", he lifted his shirt, "Now get some rest. You're tired".

[shiroi---kumo]

Let me talk for a moment about the importance of COLOR in Misterican culture again because it has been a hot minute since I explained Mist and I did not have this many color examples to my name the last time I did.

So Let's talk about MIST.

Mist is a magical substance that is contained with the lungs of a Misterican and it is kept there as vapor until they exhale. Misterican lungs are pressurized so they can store the Mist Vapors their body produces naturally. Misterican bodies make and produce Mist from the liquids and foods they consume.

I.E. meaning if a Misterican consumes alcohol - the mist their body produces and stores will become alcoholic in nature and they will remain intoxicated until they release that vapor from their lungs.

Misterican Mist is produced in different colors and that color is dependent on the color one is born to.

Misterican Mist exists in every color of the rainbow excluding black and the only Misterican ever born to the color White (the hue) is one Valkoinen Pilvi / White Cloud -> aka Kumo! Please see the religious notions behind this here.

But the Color of one's mist is important because the Color of one's mist will tell you the power it contains.

Mistericans all possess a color to their souls and that is the color of their Mist - and you can tell what color a Misterican is by the color of their Hair and sometimes their eyes. Misterican hair color = Misterican Mist color and Mist colors contain different status effects that go into effect as soon as that Mist is exhaled into the air.

The Misterican in question cannot stop this status effect from activating, it simply does as soon as they exhale and that's why they wear masks to filter their mist from their breaths to prevent the effects from effecting those around them.

So the status effects that exist within Mist Colors are as follows:

🟥 - Red - Paralysis 🟧 - Orange - Silence 🟨 - Yellow - Confuse 🟩 - Green - Toxic / Poison 🟦 - Blue - Slow 🟪 - Purple - Healing 🟫 - Brown - Stone 🩶 - Silver - Charm 🩷 - Pink - Blind 🤍 - White - Sleep

Mistericans DO NOT control these status effects. They activate the second they exhale their mist into the air and anyone who inhales their mist will be affected but there are a few conditions that apply

The thicker the Mist, the stronger the effect

The lighter in color it is, the more potent the effect

The more potent the effect, the longer it lasts

The thicker the Mist is, the faster it works

Bonded Mistericans are unaffected by each other's mist powers.

Mistericans who soul bound to a royal will have the potency of their Mist heightened by that royal's own power.

Same Color Mistericans do not affect each other. (aka blue doesn't affect blue, green doesn't affect green, etc etc )

Mist effects will wear off given time or if something happens to the source of said mist. So if the Mist User dies the effects would lift immediately and of their Mist in the area would dissipate instantly.

✨ Special Rule ✨ - The Child of White, due to his Immortal Godly Status is unaffected by any and all Mist effects. This includes healing.

The reason lighter color = more power is due to the fact that Lady Tiamat, the Celestial Mother of all Mist's color is White (hue) so the closer one's mist is to white the more power it possesses.

Mistericans also can be trained to use their Mist for a controlled form of Magics known as Mist Magics and Summoning. The users of this type of Mist Magic are know as Mist Mythics or simply "Mythics". You can read about them here.

But this is why 9 times out of 10 why Kumo and the other Mistericans are probably wearing a mask when meeting with your muse. They exhale status effects and color matters.

Now if Kumo takes his mask off and it's just a light mist and not really filling up the space around him - its going to take a while for the effect of sleep to kick in, but please be aware that no matter what, if Kumo has his mask off he will eventually build up a little cloud of mist around him. The seeing your breath when it's cold out thing? That's Kumo at all times when maskless.

[yourfavoriteclown]

🎶🤍✨when u get this, list 5 songs u like to listen to, publish. then, send this ask to 10 of your favourite followers (positivity is cool)🎶🤍✨

Thank you @johnentwistlesbassguitar

Right now my top 5 favorite songs are:

1. You Better You Bet -The Who

2. Barbara Ann - Beach Boys

3. Invisible Touch - Genesis

4. Behind Blue Eyes - The Who

5. Lick It Up - KISS

[strang3lov3]

Hello buggy! I saw your reblog about the depeche mode title and your usersame. I recognized some time ago you have an very interesting and unique music taste. So what are your all the time favorite songs from any band/singer? Would love to listen to some new stuff specifically when it's reminding me of you

Hope you're okay and have a kind festive time my friend ❤️✨

- 🫘 🤍 🐞

hi beanie baby! i've been missing ya! i thought i sent you an ask recently, maybe tumblr ate it? in any case, i've been thinking of you and it's lovely to hear from you ♡ wishing you a happy holiday season as well, gorgeous!!

this is a long list lol

Alkaline Trio - Radio, Blood, Hair, and Eyeballs, Calling all Skeletons

Alt-J - Matilda, Taro, Left Hand Free, Something Good

Amy Winehouse - In My Bed, You Sent Me Flying, He Can Only Hold Her, Addicted

Arctic Monkeys - 505, Snap Out Of It, No. 1 Party Anthem, Crying Lightning, Stop The World I Wanna Get Off With You, Too Much To Ask, Four Out Of Five

Bauhaus - All We Ever Wanted Was Everything, Kick in the Eye

Beck - Lost Cause, Gamma Ray, Everybody's Gotta Learn Sometime, Que' Onda Guero, Go It Alone, Paper Tiger

Beyoncé - Don't Hurt Yourself (ft. Jack White), Heated

Blue October - Into The Ocean

Bon Iver - For Emma, Re: Stacks, Holocene

Cage The Elephant - Spiderhead, Black Madonna

The Church - Under the Milky Way, Reptile

Cocteau Twins - Sea, Swallow Me, Lorelei, Pearly-Dewdrops' Drops

Deftones - Sextape, Change, Xerces, Minerva

Depeche Mode - Enjoy the Silence, Policy of Truth, World In My Eyes, Dangerous, Rush, In Your Room, Higher Love, A Pain That I'm Used To, The Things You Said, Behind The Wheel, Sacred, pretty much the whole discography lol

Elliot Smith - Waltz #2, Needle In The Hay

Father John Misty - Being You, Mahashmashana, The Palace, God's Favorite Customer, The Songwriter, Pure Comedy, Strange Encounter, Bored In The USA (another one where I love his whole discography)

Fiona Apple - Valentine, Get Gone, A Mistake, Slow Like Honey

Flatsound - By Your Side, If We Could Just Pretend, You Wrote 'Don't Forget' On Your Arm, Learning To Hate You As A Self Defense Mechanism

Flight of the Conchords - whole discography.

Frank Iero - She's the Prettiest Girl at the Party, and She Can Prove It with a Solid Right Hook, Oceans, They Wanted Darkness... , Miss Me

Hole - Doll Parts, Jennifer's Body, Softer, Softest, Petals, Malibu

Hooverphonic - Mad About You, Vinegar & Salt, 2 Wicky

Imogen Heap - Headlock, Loose Ends

Interpol - Evil, Slow Hands, Obstacle 1, Stella was a diver and she was always down, The New

Kali Uchis - After The Storm (ft. Tyler, The Creator), Feel Like A Fool, Melting, Ridin' Round

Kent - 747 (We Ran Out Of Time)

The Killers - Smile Like You Mean It, All These Things That I've Done, Midnight Show, When You Were Young, For Reasons Unknown, Read My Mind, Bones, This River Is Wild, Losing Touch, Spaceman, Joyride, Out Of My Mind, Run For Cover, The Man

Lady Gaga - Venus, aRTPOP, Summerboy

Lana Del Rey - Ride, Black Beauty, Florida Kilos, Venice Bitch, How to disappear, Get Free, Cherry, another artist whose whole discography I love

LCD Soundsystem - Tribulations, X-Ray Eyes, I Can Change, All My Friends, Dance Yrself Clean, New York, I Love You but You're Bringing Me Down, Sound of Silver

London After Midnight - Sacrifice

Mac DeMarco - Heart to Heart, My Kind of Woman, Moonlight on the River, Chamber OF Reflection

Mastodon - Asleep in the Deep, High Road

Mazzy Star - Look on Down From The Bridge, Quiet, The Winter Harbor, Fade Into You, Halah, Five String Seranade

Milky Chance - Cocoon, Flashed Junk Mind, Stolen Dance, Down By The River

Miami - Your Best American Girl, Class of 2013, I Bet On Losing Dogs, Francis Forever, First Love/Late Spring

Modest Mouse - King Rat, Bukowski, Dramamine, Lampshades on Fire, Missed the Boat - love the whole discography

Muse - Plug In Baby, Sunburn, Muscle Museum, Darkshines, Megalomania, Time Is Running Out

My Chemical Romance - Demolition Lovers, Early Sunsets Over Monroeville, Cemetery Drive, It’s Not a Fashion Statement, it’s a Fucking Deathwish, I Never Told You What I Do For a Living, I Don’t Love You, Cancer, Mama, Disenchanted, Summertime, The Kids From Yesterday - MCR IS ALL BANGERS

Nick Drake - Pink Moon, One of These Things First, Place To Be

Nirvana - Endless, Nameless, Something In The Way, Rape Me, Love Buzz, Heart-Shaped Box

Paramore - Idle Worship, All I Wanted, Decode, Caught In The Middle

Pixies - Gouge Away, Is She Weird, Velouria, Monkey Gone To Heaven, Wave of Mutilation (UK Surf)

PJ Harvey - This Mess We’re In (ft. Thom Yorke), Down By The Water

Placebo - Come Home, Lady Of The Flowers, Bionic, Bruise Pristine, My Sweet Prince, Burger Queen, Pierrot the Clown, Follow The Cops Back Home, Space Monkey, Slackerbitch, Eyesight To The Blind, Bosco

Portishead - Roads, Sour Times, Glorybox

Prince - 17 Days, Erotic City, Little Red Corvette

Radiohead - Paranoid Android, Let Down, A Wolf At The Door, Myxomatosis, Scatterbrain, 2+2=5, Decks Dark, Talk Show Host - I love everything Radiohead.

Red Hot Chili Peppers - Dark Necessities, The Adventures of Rain Dance Maggie, Under The Bridge

The Revivalists - Amber, Wish I Knew You, It Was A Sin, Need You

Sade - No Ordinary Love, Like A Tattoo, By Your Side, Hang On To Your Love, Still in Love with You

Salt-N-Pepa - None Of Your Business

Slowdive - When The Sun Hits

The Smashing Pumpkins - Mayonnaise, Luna, Today, Drown, 1979

The Smiths - Reel Around The Fountain, Well I Wonder, Asleep, I Know It’s Over, Frankly, Mr. Shankly - all bangers, unfortunately.

Talking Heads - This Must Be The Place, Psycho Killer, Once In A Lifetime, Burning Down The House

Violent Femmes - Color Me Once, Kiss Off, American Music

Weezer - Island In The Sun, Perfect Situation, Hash Pipe, The Blue Album, Pinkerton, The White Album, The Teal Album.

The White Stripes - Blue Orchid, Ball and Biscuit, Hotel Yorba, The Union Forever, The Denial Twist

Young The Giant - I Got, Strings, Cough Syrup, Mind Over Matter, Daydreamer, Amerika, Something To Believe In, Silvertongue, Superpostion, Tightrope

[pedrito-friskito]

REBEL SUNS - CHAPTER ONE

series masterlist | main masterlist

summary: cassian finds something familiar in the mud, and gets much more than he bargained for.

word count: 3.2k

warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI, *SPOILERS FOR ANDOR*, light-ish to start! descriptions of canon-typical violence, injuries, blood, talk of the rebellion and the empire, luthen is an enigma and cassian is a little bewildered.

a/n: and off we go! god, I am having so much fun writing this story, and I’m honestly so proud of it. I’m probably gonna cross-post this on ao3 as well (who is she), but any and all comments are appreciated, and my askbox is always open 🤍

✨I no longer have a taglist! if you’d like to be notified of future works (and chapter updates!), please follow @friskito-library and turn notifications on!✨

Someone’s following you.

They’re not being subtle about it, that’s what worries you most. 

You don’t recognize the face, mostly shadowed by the hood pulled over their head, obscuring the eyes. There’s a thick scar over the mouth, an unforgiving expression. You see the blaster at their belt, the hands curled into fists. You can outrun them, if you’re smart about it. If you can make it just a few more blocks, there’s a path you can take, one that’ll take you down under the sewer system, spit you out the other side of the city. If you can just get there then—

Something hard smacks against the back of your head, and the world goes dark.

+

He doesn’t have time for this.

People are waiting for him. Luthen is waiting, back on the ship. He had a job to do, and he’s done it. Now, it’s time to go back. To go home. Well, wherever home happens to be for the time being.

But you’re in his way. Not purposely; he nearly tripped right over you in his haste to get back to the landing pad. It’s pouring rain — not uncommon for Arkanis — and it’s left his boots caked in mud, his hair plastered to his skull. It’s cold, enough so that his teeth chatter as he stumbles over your boot, catches himself on the rail before turning back to see what broke his step.

He thinks you’re dead, at first. You’re not moving, face-down in the mud, sprawled on the edge of the path and draped in a soaked coat. He spies the blaster on your hip, the spot of blood on your upturned cheek. Your eye is ringed with a blackening bruise, and Cassian’s eyes travel up before he sees it, half-clutched in your grasp, the gold chain still looped around your wrist, the familiar blue crystal smeared with dirt.

Sky kyber.

Maybe he does have time for this.

It’s odd enough, finding a body dumped at the edge of the path like this. It’s far from the city itself, out of the way and leading to the landing pad tucked behind storage buildings. That’s why Luthen picked it: obscurity. But the spot you’re in, the fact that you’re face-down, bloodied and beaten, it makes his brow crease. Someone must have dumped you; there’s no other tracks in the mud, no other signs of a struggle.

The crystal is warm as he pulls it from your limp grasp. He lets his fingers skirt your wrist, checks for a pulse, holds his breath until he feels it. He jams the kyber in his pocket, stuffing the chain in with it. He’d left it with Vel, after Aldhani. He never expected to see it again. And last they’d been informed, Vel was laying low on Chandrila, so…how did you get your hands on it?

For a moment, he nearly leaves you. He doesn’t know you; he doesn’t owe you anything. You’re carrying stolen property, as far as he’s concerned. Why should he help?

His mother’s voice in the back of his mind has him crouching at your side, rolling you carefully into his grasp, throwing your arm around his neck. 

You’re dead weight, and he grits his teeth as he stands. The rain is coming harder now, and it splatters your face, smearing the blood and dirt. You don’t so much as flinch, and it worries him for a moment; you still have a heartbeat, but that doesn’t mean you’ll survive.

Cassian tries to catalogue your injuries as he carries you back. Besides the black eye and the bloody cheek, there’s a mark around your throat, one that looks unmistakably like a hand. Someone choked you, or tried to.

If there’s anything else, he can’t see it. You’re weighed down more by the heavy jacket around your shoulders, zipped to your sternum, a belt across your chest. He should have checked you for weapons, he realizes too late, but huffs quietly, cursing Maarva’s voice in his mind as he continues down the path.

You do what’s right, Cassian. You always have.

The ramp to the Fondor lowers as soon as he’s within sight, and Luthen pokes his head out a moment later. Cassian’s used to him by now, the gruff orders, the demanding demeanour. Kill or be killed, eat or be eaten. The Rebellion needs men like him, Cassian knows.

But he’s never seen the old man shocked. And as he walks up the ramp, you curled against his chest, that’s exactly what he sees.

“What…?”

“I found her,” Cassian says, pushing past Luthen, stepping onto the ship, “face-down in the mud. She’s injured, I don’t know how bad. Someone must have dumped her.”

The ramp whirs as it lifts again, the doors sliding closed. Luthen is pale, his eyes wide. Cassian lays you out on the passenger’s seats. “So you decided to bring her back here? We don’t…” He trails off, swallows thickly. “We don’t even know who she is. What she is.”

Cassian stares at his companion a long moment. Up until now, he’s never had a reason to doubt Luthen. He took the man for what he was, what he made clear he had set out to be. But looking at him now, the lie is plain on his face.

“Don’t lie to me,” he says simply, narrowing his eyes at the old man. “You know exactly who she is.”

“I—”

If he was going to lie again, the words die on the old man’s tongue as Cassian fishes the stone from his pocket, gripping the chain and letting it dangle, holding it between the two of them. “I found this in her hand. I left this with Vel. After Aldhani, after I took what I was owed. You told me it was important. Vel would not have given this to someone without reason, would she?”

Luthen says nothing, eyes flicking between the blue crystal and your unmoving form.

“Would she?”

The old man sighs heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. He won’t look at Cassian, but snags the kyber from him, shoving it in the pocket of his cloak.

“Who is she, Luthen?”

He takes a few steps back, puts some distance between him and Cassian. He leans against the wall of the ship, crossing his arms over his chest. Luthen says your name, the syllables sounding heavy on his tongue. It’s obvious he hasn’t spoken of you in a long time. “She’s a fence. Best one in the Outer Rim. Before Aldhani, the Rebellion was funded only by quiet senators fed up with the Emperor’s power, wealthy families who wanted to do their part. Sure, we have more than enough criminals at our disposal, mercenaries and the like, but most of them barely have enough credits to get themselves by, never mind fund a Rebellion. It wasn’t enough.

“Then I found her. In a market on Tatooine, selling jewelry that had once belonged to Queen Amidala. Legitimate stuff, too, no fakes. She tried to run when I approached her at first, thought I was ISB. Her family was taken, you see, her brothers conscripted to the Imperial Army, their parents killed. She was just trying to make her way across the galaxy, hoping to find a lead on her brothers, trying to make a name for herself on the black markets. Lots of powerful people there, you know. Lots of names, lots of faces, lots of favours owed.”

Cassian just stares at Luthen. “Where did she get the jewels?”

Luthen huffs a laugh. “You know, I never asked.”

“So you hired her.”

“Enlisted, more like it.” He pulls the kyber from his pocket, lets it lay in his palm. “I told her I would help her find her brothers in exchange for her work. I found the items to sell, artifacts, jewels, weapons, what have you. She stole them, sold them, and the money was funnelled back into the Rebellion.”

“Until Aldhani.”

“Before that,” Luthen continues, staring down at the stone. “There was a collector, on Hoth. Had a slew of kyber, signets and the like, bits of the Old World, remnants of the Jedi. Stubborn old fool, but he was willing to negotiate, and she was up for the challenge. I took her there, waited. He’d only give her the Kuati signet, but she took it, paid him for it, started to head back. Until a squad of Troopers showed up, one of the Emperor’s lackeys seeking the same thing we were. She tried to get back, I tried to meet her halfway, but they were everywhere, swarming from all sides. The planet, it’s all ice and snow, steep cliffs and ledges. She caught a blaster bolt in the side, went toppling over the edge. I tried to grab her, but she slipped away.” He pinches the kyber between his fingers, holding it up to the light. “Leaving me with this. I thought she was gone.”

“You didn’t look very hard,” an unfamiliar voice says, and Cassian whips his head in your direction, eyes widening as he sees you move to sit up, gripping your side with gritted teeth. You spit blood onto the floor, wipe at your reddened lips. Your knuckles are bruised, which he hadn’t noticed, and you lean your head back against the wall once you’re upright, eyes narrowing at Luthen. “Tell me you have bacta. Or med-nog.” You wince, adjusting slightly. “Or both.”

“Cassian, get the kit,” Luthen answers, waving a hand in his direction. Cassian does as he’s told, watching from the corner of his eye as he heads for the compartment where the med kit is. Luthen stuffs the kyber back in his pocket and crosses the distance to you, dropping into a crouch in front of you.

“I thought you were gone,” he says to you, and Cassian hears your sharp inhale.

“Well, I wasn’t.” He glances over his shoulder as you wince again, eyes squeezing shut. “I clung to the edge of the fucking cliff for hours, waiting for the Troopers to leave. Couldn’t feel my fingers.”

Cassian balks, turning back to the wall. A memory swims to the surface of his mind; him and Melshi, clinging to the cliffs on Narkina-5, Melshi’s heavy accent barking at him that he couldn’t feel his hands, that he couldn’t climb back up. Tell me they’re leaving.

“You fell.”

“Not very far,” you throw back, and he hears you huff. “Honestly, Luthen, do we really need to dissect this? I’m alive, no thanks to you, but Maker, this hurts.”

“Cassian!” Luthen barks. “The kit!”

Startling, he pulls the entire kit out of the compartment, setting the large box on the floor and sliding it across to Luthen. You’re glaring at Luthen, your eyes fiery.

“The med-nog is in the cockpit,” he tells Cassian, who just nods, trying to shake the memory from his head, rubbing a palm over his cheek before stalking towards the front of the ship. 

As he steps through the door, he hears you: “Who is he?”

Luthen’s response, clearly said with a smile: “A Rebel.”

He snags the flask from where it’s tucked in the side of the pilot’s chair, heading back to you quickly. Luthen’s tending to your injuries, helping you shrug out of your jacket, and Cassian takes it, holding it for a long moment, not quite sure what to do with it. He just watches as Luthen cuts away part of your shirt, baring your injured side. It looks like blaster burn, and he covers it with a bacta patch, giving you a cold pack for your eye, inspecting the shallow cut on your cheek. 

You wince hard when he wraps your middle in bandages, keeping the bacta in place on your side, and Cassian remembers the metal flask in his hand, stepping forward to hand it to you. Your fingers brush as you take it from him, your one visible eye crinkling at the corner. “Thank you.”

He just nods.

You keep staring at him, cold pack held to your blackened eye. “I heard about Aldhani,” you say simply, jutting your chin towards Luthen as he gathers the kit and goes to put it away. “It’s all anyone could talk about a few weeks back. That was you?”

“Sort of,” Cassian says, realizing he’s still holding your jacket. “I should…I’ll clean this for you.” He turns on his heel, heading towards the fresher at the back of the Fondor, and you call after him.

“Wait,” you yelp, leaning forward, wincing when it irks your side. “Shit, this hurts.” You take a swig of the med-nog. “There’s a holo-pad in the pocket,” you say, gesturing towards the jacket, “and my blasters.”

He walks back to you, steps close enough until you can reach into the dripping jacket, pulling out a holo-pad, two more blasters, a pouch of credits, a vibro-blade. Once your belongings are piled beside you, the holo-pad resting in your lap, you lift your gaze to his again, a half-smile on your mouth.

“Thank you, Cassian,” you say, and Cassian stutters, realizing Luthen told you his name before he could decide if he wanted to use a fake or not, “for saving me.”

“Oh,” he mumbles, jutting a thumb over his shoulder, “Luthen, he was the one who—”

“Luthen left me for dead a long time ago,” you say, your face pinching for a moment before it softens again, though the slight wince of pain remains. “Not many men would find someone laying in the mud with kyber crystal and not just leave them there. So, thank you.”

Cassian swallows so hard he can feel his throat bob. His eyes are locked to yours. “You’re welcome.”

“Who was it,” Luthen calls, breaking the strange tension that has formed between you, “that attacked you?”

“I don’t know,” you reply, and Cassian takes it as his cue to go, heading for the fresher again.

It’s easy enough to wipe the mud from the outer layer of your jacket, the fabric waterproof and tough. It’s lined with durasteel in a few places, he realizes, chest plates and curves around where your ribs would be. Once he’s done with your jacket, he tends to himself, cleans the mud from his boots and his own jacket, shakes the rainwater from his hair. He can still hear you and Luthen, the thin door to the fresher doing little to muffle your voices.

“Was it someone you’ve stolen from?” Luthen asks you. “Someone you’ve sold to?”

“I told you, I don’t know.” You’re exasperated, clearly. “It’s wasn’t anyone I recognized, and you know me, Luthen. I know every face I’ve ever worked, sold or stolen.”

“So it was a hired hand. And they grabbed you in broad daylight?”

Silence. He wonders if you’re glaring at the old man. You seem to have a penchant for it. A heavy breath. “Knocked me out right in the middle of the city. People don’t get involved here. People don’t get involved anywhere, not since P.O.R.D.” Cassian grits his teeth, leaning against the door. “They took me to some warehouse — no, I don’t know where, before you ask. Questioned me for a few hours,” a harsh wince, “beat the shit out of me.”

“Questioned you on what?”

You let out a watery laugh, and the sound is so laced with pain that it fills Cassian’s chest with pity.

“The Rebellion. They wanted to know what I knew.” Another silence. “I didn’t tell them anything, Luthen, so don’t even think about asking.”

“I wasn’t—”

“You’re not the only one who knows how to read people, old man.”

Cassian has to stifle his laugh. You’re fiery.

“Cassian said the kyber was in your hand.”

“It was,” you confirm. “Once they decided to release me, they said they’d take me back. I put it around my wrist to keep it hidden. I’ve been desperate, Luthen; the plan was to sell it once I got back to the city, but instead, they shot me in the side and knocked me out again, dumped me on the side of the road, and I woke up here.” A huff, almost a laugh. “Imagine my surprise.”

“Vel gave it to you?” Luthen asks. “You saw her?”

“I was on Chandrila for a few weeks,” you reply. “Lots of wealth to spread around there, but I’m sure you know that.”

“Watch it.”

“I want it back.” A pause. “The kyber, Luthen. It’s mine, by rights.”

“What rights?”

“You left me for dead, took off from that fucking planet without so much as confirming if there was a body or not. I nearly got myself killed finding it. It’s mine.”

“It’s worth—”

“I know what it’s worth,” you bite. “Give it back.”

There’s some shuffling, the quiet clink of metal, a low sigh. “I never meant to abandon you on Hoth. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.” Another pause, the sound of boots on the floor. “Luthen?”

“Mmm?”

“Do you trust him?”

“He can hear you, you know.”

“I’m aware.”

Luthen’s smile has returned, it’s evident in his voice. “As much as I trust you.” The old man gives a little laugh. “You two will probably get along, you know. Two of the more tragic lifetimes I’ve known.”

You laugh in return. “Is that so?”

More silence follows, and then Cassian hears the loud whir of the Fondor’s engine sparking to life. He steps out of the fresher, your mostly cleaned jacket in one hand, pushing his other through his wet hair. You’re sat in the same spot, the ice pack still pressed to your eye, but he catches the flash of gold at your throat, the kyber crystal evidently tucked down the front of your shirt.

“Thanks,” you say quietly when Cassian hands you your jacket, letting it sit on top of the pile of your stuff. The holo-pad is still in your lap, a man’s face illuminating the screen.

“Who is that?” he asks, moving to sit in the seat next to you, reaching for the buckles. You reach for your own, but your face pinches in a wince and Cassian stops to help you, guiding the straps over your arms carefully, avoiding your injuries best he can.

“My brother,” you answer, settling back against the seat as he tightens your straps.

“Luthen said they were taken,” he says, brow pinching as he leans back in his own seat. “Conscripted?”

Biting your lip, you nod, looking down at the holo-pad. “I had three brothers, before. Parents, a home, pets, the whole deal. Now it’s just me and him.” You rest your hand on the screen, tapping a finger against your brother’s outline. “Everyone else is dead.”

“That’s why you joined the Rebellion?”

You nod once, and then, “I have to find him. Somehow.”

“And you think Luthen will help you do that?”

You scoff. “Luthen only does what’s in the best interest of the Rebellion. I know that. But, doing what I do puts me in contact with a lot of…interesting people. And if that’s what I have to do to find my brother, then so be it.” You look at him slowly, lowering the ice pack. “Why did you join?”

“It’s like you said,” he replies, “everyone else is dead. And this? This is the only thing that’s ever made any sense to me.”

“Fighting?”

He nods. “If we don’t fight back, what chance do we have? What hope is there?”

The corner of your mouth quirks, eyes shining. “Rebellions are built on hope.”

NEXT

[peaky-shelby]

just re read the lil scenario you wrote bw Taylor and Ky after their last match and it made my heart swooon, I was wondering if by any chance if you got the time could you write out a scenario where she’s sick and still working herself to a point of exhaustion and he takes care of her subtly doing and saying things that shows us how in love with this girl he is.

also I love your work a lil too much if you were to publish any work or direct/screen write any movie I’d watch it without a second thought you are genuinely incredibly talented can’t wait to see the stuff you’ll put out in the future 🤍🤍

first of thank you so so much for reading!! I love you so much!! You're all getting free copies of my first book🫡

_________

Taylor sits on the kitchen of the campus alone, blows her nose on a tissue. One of many around the table.

Clock on her phone says 9pm. She is typing quickly. Her eyes red from the cold she has and the blue light of the screen.

Kylian walks in, takes a quick glance at her but doesn't say anything. She doesn't even acknowledge him.

She sneezes and coughs on one of the tissues while Kylian is pouring water on a glass. He takes the glass and leaves it next to her without saying anything.

He walks back the cupboards looking for something.

She sees the water, unconsciously taking it and drinking some while still typing with one hand.

Kylian lights the kettle, the water brewing.

She turns around finally realizing he is there.

Taylor: i sent you home an hour ago.

Kylian: i had a meeting with Galtier. What about you?

Taylor: if i go home I'll fall asleep. I need to finish.

Kylian : yourself?

Taylor: (groaning) hilarious

Kylian: (smiling) i know.

Taylor turns back at the computer. Continues writing. Her hand reaches for the last tissue on the box.

Kylian notices. He exchanges the empty box with a new one. She doesn't even realize as she reaches for an other tissue.

The kettle stops. Kylian pours most of the water on a cup. Then throws just a little on another. He Takes a chamomile pack and let's it sink on the full cup. The water gaining color slowly.

Taylor: (without turning to face him) can i have a cup too?

Kylian smiles to himself.

Kylian: (acts like he is annoyed) for fucks shakes

Taylor: stop whining.

Kylian picks up the cup and leaves it next to her. He pretends his cup is full as well and begins to sip on the warm water while standing over her.

Kylian: you know the campus has to close. You need to go home.

Taylor: Ney said it closes at midnight.

Kylian rolls his eyes. He bites on his lip.

Kylian : only when the whole team is here or Galtier.

Taylor: (still typing) thought you said you had a meeting

Kylian shuts his eyes, like he said something wrong.

Kylian: yeah but you know he's gone now. I'm going too. They'll lock you inside.

Taylor stops. She looks at him, scared.

Taylor: they'd do that?

Kylian: (lifting his cup to his lips) has happened three times to me.

Taylor: shit!

She closes her laptop. And searches for her bag.

Kylian: drink your cup first. It shouldn't go to waste.

Taylor's lifts it up and drinks it quickly. Kylian smiles behind his cup. She picks all her stuff and goes to leave. She forgets the box with the tissue.

Kylian grabs it for her. Smiling like he just won a match.

________

hint hint hint similar scenarios are coming soon in the actual universe of the story ✨ wrote this very exhausted after 12 of work and a headache so I'm sorry if it sucks.🥺😭

[flyingbroommate]

These are probably the last ones for a while...maybe...😅

🤍Goreganizer🖤 First one is Jasper and his Goreganizer look Mainly used G3 Draculaura's Goreganizer outfit as the main inspo with the pattern and simple but stylish outfit To match the other existing looks he has some small stars around his eyes and white eyeliner, along with making his eyelashes blue If this was an actual doll he'd come with some stickers and a pocket watch shaped mirror (To match the one he's wearing)

💜Bad Scare Day💚 This one was supposed to be his 'Bad Scare Day' look, but it turned out a lot neater than I was expecting He looks kinda like a unicorn tbh😂 The story behind it was that he was preparing for a fashion thing with a friend but something happened in the Mad Science lab and made his hair grow crazy long and change colour The short/black part was from an undercut he had so they didn't change much besides the length

💜Late Night Fang-Out (Prelude)🖤 This is just a part 1 to the comfy outfit I made for him before (the one with the messy bowl-cut) I'm pretty happy with the outfit. It's pretty basic but the pattern on the pants and extra little details on the hoodie make it stand out more✨ It's after school so Jasper decides to go to the Maul and get a haircut and then have a relaxing evening at home

[immortalmint]

🎶🤍✨when u get this, list 5 songs u like to listen to, publish. then, send this ask to 10 of your favourite followers (positivity is cool)🎶🤍✨

Lately it's been:

King of Pain, by The Police

What I've Done, by Linkin Park

Come to My Window, by Melissa Etheridge

Black Sun, by Death Cab for Cutie

Helplessly Hoping, by Crosby, Stills, & Nash

Sometimes I just need lyrics to chew on, and these satisfy. More songs deserve to make the cut (Otherside, by Red Hot Chili Peppers, Behind Blue Eyes, by The Who, etc.) but I'll stop myself now :D

Thanks for the ask!

[moonchild-in-blue]

Look at my honses boy 🐎

I have the horses from my BOTW save together with my TOTK horses, so!

Breath Of The Wild

Rain - she was my very first horse, and I named her after Rain from Spirit. She's still my most favourite of them all 💙

Cotton - my sweet sweet gentle pink girl. She has a beautiful long mane with flowers 🥺 I take her when I want to just stroll around.

Sirius - named after Sirius Black for obvious reasons. He's my wild stallion and a fighter - I defeated Ganon with him 🖤

Hesper - Zelda's horse from BOTW. I named him after the god/star 🌟 A most noble steed.

Hephæstus - Ganon's horse. Named him after the god because this bad boy is big and scary like a vulcano 🌋. Beautiful deep green eyes.

Tears Of The Kingdom

Cinnamon - my first TOTK horse 🤎 This baby has travelled far and wide with me. Not a thought behind those eyes though.

Ichor - Zelda's horse. This bitch is extra, looking at her hurts. ✨ Braids ✨

Indigo - my sweet blue horse 🥹 he's so very beautiful like wow look at him.

Atlas - another giant boy 🤍 The name felt appropriate since 1- BIG HONSE and 2- Atlas and Hesper were supposedly related in greek mythology, and he looks a lot like Hesper (Zelda's horse).

Do you wanna see my horses?

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

GOSHHH!!

I'm on my knees reading your stuff, you're soooo good. I finally found someone who writes Ivy in a delightful way.

Could you please write some Ivy down bad for reader when they meet in the waiting room after both of them lost their flight. It's freezing outside and they shared a cup of coffe. Something cute and a little smut, maybe?

Thank you honey :))

Thank you, darling! Means so much. 🤍✨

Missed flights

You knew you should have left yourself more time. New airports were always so much more confusing and now with only minutes to spare you were running to the gates as fast as you could. Trying to not run into anyone. “Final call to flight DF1465 all passengers please get to the gate immediately”. You cursed beneath your breath, skimming your eyes over the digital display. Before breaking into a run once more.

Slamming into someone’s side, losing your balance but not having enough time to spare. “I need to get on”, the man in front of you hands his ticket to the lady only to be met with a sharp shake of the head. “Gates are closed”. You step to the side of him, “Come on now, you just made the last call”, you frown. “Nothing can be done miss”, she shrugged, looking down at her computer.

“Well if you stopped bitching we would have already been on the flight”, the male grunted. “Is there a way to get on another plane now or anything?”, you asked, pleading, “I need to be on that plane”, “Well as all have wishes, no flight till Friday”, she clapped back. “Watch your tone”, the guy pointed at her right as she turned to leave, closing the gates.

You let your bag fall, just watching her go, already thinking of all the changes you would have to make. “Hey, sorry I bumped into you pretty hard beforehand”, the same guy gently reached out. You blinked looking at his blue eyes, “Yeah… don’t remember”, you chuckled softly. “Don’t tell me that I gave you a concussion?”, he frowned slightly shaking his head. “No, don’t worry”, you reassured him. “Well, this fucking sucks”, he grunted, running a hand over his face. “Also in a rush to get back?”, you looked at him sympathetically. “Oh, you can’t even imagine”, he sighed, “Ivy”. “My pleasure, YN”, you shook his head, “we can always try the front desk”, you motioned behind you.

That’s where you two spent the remaining 4h trying and fighting and arguing with every single person who came forward. Nothing. No one could give you any information and the closest flight was in 24h. “Let’s just go”, you pulled at his hand, feeling the exhaustion slowly settling in. Ivy shot the lady one more angry look before turning to you. “When was the last time you ate?”, he asked picking up his bag, before reaching for yours, muttering a quiet “let me”, before he took it from your hands. “Don’t remember”, you shrugged, “Well, we are eating then”, Ivy motioned for you to walk forward before following behind.

The little cafe you two found outside the airport was nearly empty, giving you both a much-needed rest and a space to talk. “We can book this?”, you turned your phone to Ivy showing him the room you had managed to find. “Not scared I’m a sociopath or anything?”, he chuckled taking a sip of his beer. You tilted your head to the side, “You don’t give me scary vibes”, you shrugged, “and if you do kidnap me at least you’re handsome”, “You think I’m handsome?”,’ a shit-eating grip spread across his face. “I’m sure that you know that you are”, you chuckled, “Oh, I do”, Ivy nodded, making you throw your head up as you laughed, “Humble much?”.

Ivy reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, thumb brushing your cheek, “You’re really pretty”, your cheeks instantly grew pink as you batted his hand away. “You’re just saying that so that we would be in the same room”, you rolled your eyes. “Absolutely, but mostly because you’re really pretty”, Ivy mused, clinking your beers together. Eyes fully focused on you.

[shiftingparadise]

heyyyy! it’s been a loooong while since my last request and i keep thinking about an enemies to lovers fic with gojo 🫠🫠 i mean like “i hate you. i hope you die a horrible death.” typa beat at the beginning.

i’m not sure if you’re taking requests atm, or if you haven’t watched jjk, so feel free to ignore this if that’s the case, i will completely understand^^ have a nice day<3

aaaa, I really loved writing this one. I'm sorry it took so long, but I was busy with school :(

I hope everyone's having a great day, enjoy reading 🤍✨

No warnings.

Word Count: 3100

“Yaga’s going to send me on a mission with him”, you let your head fall back. “Please Suguru, just kill me”. You earned a small chuckle in response, “I don’t understand why you two hate each other”. “And I don’t see how you could be friends with someone like him”. “He’s not that bad. I mean, he’s an arrogant piece of shit, but so am I”. 

For some reason, it felt as if the corridor to Yaga’s classroom kept expanding. Which was a good thing. You didn’t want to see that white-haired bastard.  

“You’re not arrogant, you’re confident. There’s a difference”. “He is the strongest sorcerer. His birth technically changed the balance of earth”. “I’m strong too, and smart”, jealousy flooded through your veins. “Y/N”, Geto stopped walking, “Don’t underestimate him. He may act foolish, but there’s more to him”. “Whatever, I’ll see you around”. 

You hated it when Suguru defended him. It was bad enough that they were best friends, he didn’t have to defend him every time you complained about Satoru. 

“Okay”, you closed your eyes once you saw the door to Yaga’s classroom, “Maybe he just wants to settle things with me and that idiot?”. 

“Nope, he’s going to send us on a mission together”. 

“S-shit”, your heart dropped to your stomach at the sudden presence behind you, “Asshole. I almost died because of you”. “Almost?”, he clicked his tongue, “What a shame”. “I’m not going on a mission with you”, you turned around, angry eyes staring into his blue ones. “As if I would ever go with someone like you”. “Excuse me?”, heat rose to your cheeks. “You’re selfish. You’d never sacrifice yourself for someone. Honestly, I don’t even know what you’re doing here. A sorcerer needs to protect others”. “What do you know about me?”, you shakily replied. “I know that you’re in love with Suguru”. “W-what?!”, your eyes wide open, “N-no, that’s not true!”. 

It wasn’t. He was wrong, but nonetheless, a cherry-red glow was left on your cheeks. 

“Stop it. Both of you”, Yaga opened the door, a stern expression on his face. “Sorry”, you mumbled. “Hm”, Gojo scratched the back of his head, “What do you want?”. 

Right. His disrespect for his peers never failed to amaze you. 

“Sit down”, Yaga nodded towards the wooden chairs. “Why?”. “Just sit down”, you angrily pushed your shoulder against your classmate, “The world doesn’t revolve around you”. “Actually-“. “Shut up”, you sighed as you sat down. 

“Gojo”, Yaga’s stern voice broke through the silence, “Sit down”. “I know you’re sending us on a mission together”, he lazily leaned against the wall. “That’s right”, Yaga ignored his disobedience as he turned to look at you. “Now, I know –“. “Not happening”. 

It was your turn to be disrespectful. Everyone knew how much the two of you despised each other. Was this some kind of joke? 

“Y/N-“. “Let Suguru hop along. He’ll be delighted”, you pushed your chair back, ready to leave. “If you two don’t go on this mission together, you’ll both be expelled”. 

“You think you can blackmail me?”, Gojo loudly laughed, “You guys need me”. “I’ll be expelled?”, you widened your eyes, “But I-“. “We know”, Yaga replied, “Just go on this mission together, and we won’t have to”. “Perfect”, Gojo smiled as he clapped his hands, “She gets expelled, I get to stay since you guys need me and-“. “Please”, you softly whispered, “I can’t get expelled”. “I don’t care”, he turned around, his hands childishly waving in the air, “My life will be a lot easier with you gone”. 

Yes, you hated him. Yes, you wanted to kill him for being so ignorant, but… 

“Please”, you lowered your head, “I’ve got nowhere else to go”. “I’m sure your rich family will happily welcome you back-“. “I don’t have a family”, your voice shaking, “If I get expelled, I’ll have nowhere to go”. “Huh?”, he tilted his head. “Satoru, just go on this mission with her”, Yaga pinched the space in between his brows, “It’s easier for everyone”. “Why do those old people from higher up want us to work together? I know this wasn’t your decision”. “I don’t know”, Yaga sighed, “Just do it”. 

---

“Let’s try to be nice to each other, shall we?”, he nonchalantly walked through the hallway, not caring to look at you. 

“Fuck off”.

 Why, out of everyone, did they send you on a mission with Satoru?

“You should thank me. All I know, is you’d be sleeping on the streets if I didn’t agree to go on this mission”. 

“You’re an asshole”, you stopped walking, “I hate you, and not because you’re arrogant, not because you’re always bragging about how strong you are, but because you’re heartless. You don’t care about anyone except yourself. You only ‘save’ people because it makes you feel good. You’re a self-centered idiot”. 

“And what do you know about me?”, he looked over his shoulders. 

“Easy”, Suguru’s voice tore down the dense atmosphere, “It’ll be nice”. 

God, why did he always have to smile? 

 “Nice?”, you turned around, eyes wide open, “Nothing’s nice with that idiot”. “I disagree”, he smiled as he slowly walked towards you two. “Dinner?”, Gojo ignored your insult. “Starving”, Geto smiled as he walked past you, softly patting your head. “He’s not that bad. You’ll see”, a soft whisper. “Hm”, you pouted, “See you”. “See ya”, Geto happily waved, “Oh, when do you two have to leave?”. 

“Tomorrow morning”, you placed your hands in your pockets, “Want to play UNO after dinner?”. “Don’t be a crybaby when you lose”. “I won’t lose”, you smirked as you turned around, “Later Geto”. 

“Are you in love with her?”, Gojo smirked. “No”, Geto coldly replied. “How can you be friends with her? She’s annoying”. “Why? Because she’s almost as strong as you?”, a smirk on Geto’s face. “She isn’t”, Gojo grabbed something from his pocket, “We’re the strongest”, he smiled as he put his shades on.                               

---

“Car’s not big enough for you?”, your angry eyes staring at him. “What?”, he coldly replied. “Your legs, could you spread them even further?”. “I always sit like this”. “I don’t care”, you angrily pushed against his knee, “I need some room too”. “Brat”. “Excuse me?”, your eyes studying his face. “You heard me”. 

One more word and his cheek would have a stinging, red glow. 

“You’re a brat”, you childishly replied. “We don’t have to talk”, he let his head fall back, “We’ll be there soon”. “Give me that”, you snapped the tablet from his hand, “Want to know what we’re dealing with”. “All yours”, a smirk on his face. 

Special grade curse? This must be a joke, right? You weren’t that strong and- 

“Why didn’t they send Suguru on this mission? I’m not that strong”, your heart dropped to your stomach. Your cursed energy wasn’t special, not like Suguru’s or Satoru’s. 

“Don’t know, but I’m not responsible for your safety”, he stared out of the window, “I won’t sacrifice the mission for your safety”.  

“Just worry about yourself, I’ll manage”, you quietly responded, a worrying frown on your face. 

--- 

“Hey”, his cold voice greeted your ears. 

You dreaded this moment. 

“Hey”, you walked past him. 

“Y/N?”. “What?”, you stopped walking, eyes glued to the painting at the end of the hallway. 

“I’m sorry”. 

Sorry wasn’t enough. It could never be enough. 

“I was just a kid-“. 

“You’re still a kid”, you scoffed back, “You only think about yourself”.

You waited for a response, for another sorry, but only silence filled the air. 

“Don’t worry. I’m only here to see Sukuna’s vessel”. “When are you going to accept my apology?”. 

“Accept? They expelled me because of you”. “But you got transferred”. “And I never saw Suguru again. I never got the chance to talk him out of it”. 

Why were you even explaining things? 

“You killed him. You killed your best friend”, a lump in your throat. “He killed an entire village, Y/N. He wasn’t the Suguru you used to know”. “I don’t care. You don’t give up on the people you love”. 

“He gave up on us”. 

He didn’t. Even if his motives were wrong, even if he did evil things… He wanted to make the world a ‘better’ place for the people he loved. 

“Goodnight, Satoru”, you wiped a tear from your cheek, “Always nice to see you again”. 

--- 

“What do you think?”, Yaga looked at you, his dark shades masking his eyes. “You made the right decision. He’s strong, even without Sukuna”, your eyes twinkling, “Can I train with him tonight? Just for research?”. “As long as he’s okay with it”, he lifted his shoulders. “That kid”, you nodded towards the dark-haired boy, “He’s strong too, isn’t he?”. “He has the most potential”, Yaga crossed his arms, “You don’t know who he is, do you?”. “I know. Thanks to his dad-“. “Yeah”, Yaga interrupted, “That’s him”. 

--- 

“So, you let him take over whenever?”. “N-no”, the pink-haired boy backed away, his cheeks red with embarrassment. “Does he talk to you?”, you tightened your grip around his jaw, your eyes studying every part of his face. “Y-yeah, he’s annoying”. “Can I talk to him?”, you eagerly asked.  “It’s too dangerous”, a stern expression on his face, “I don’t want to risk the safety of others”. 

“Don’t worry”.

Why? 

“Get out”, you slowly backed away, resisting the urge to turn around. “Come now, that’s my student”. 

He was smirking. You could feel it.

“Yuji”, his footsteps drew closer, “Let him out. I’m the strongest, you know that”. “B-but Gojo sensei-“. “Let him out”, he lifted his blindfold with his thumb. 

You didn’t want to see him, to give him some form of satisfaction, but… You were so curious, so fascinated… 

 “And I’m here too”, you softly agreed, “I’m strong too”. “She is”, Gojo happily smiled, “And smart. She’s the most highly paid researched in the sorcerer community. Her books are being used in every sorcerer school”. 

“Tsk”, you clenched your jaw. “She doesn’t seem to like you”, Yuji tilted his head. “That’s because we’ve got some history-“. “N-no! Not like that!”, you blurted out when you saw the look in the student’s eyes. 

“Let him out, Yuji”, Gojo smirked. 

“Okay”, the boy shrugged his shoulders before closing his eyes. 

Your heart was racing, your mouth dry… You were nervous. 

“That brat gave me 30 seconds”. 

“H-huh?”, you jolted, “H-his voice… The marks-“. 

“Sukuna?”, you slowly walked closer. “Long time I’ve seen someone this pretty. She yours?”, the curse widely grinned at Gojo. “Your time’s almost up”, Gojo smiled back, “It’s been a pleasure”. 

“W-wait!”, you tried to buy more time, but you could already see the marks disappear. 

“What did he say?”, Yuji shook his head, as if he tried to shake the curse away. “I’m never leaving this place as long as you’re here!”, you swung your arms around the boy’s neck, “I’m going to write so many books about you!!!”. 

“G-gojo sensei?”, the boy tried to ask his teacher for help, his cheeks glowing red. “Hey, she never hugged me”, Gojo loudly laughed, “Just enjoy it”. 

--- 

“So peaceful”, you sighed as you looked at the stars above you. 

You always loved the smell of a hot summer night. A clear sky above you, thousands of stars, the soft touch of grass underneath you… 

You were sitting in the middle of a park just outside Jujutsu high. It must’ve been 3 AM, but you didn’t care. This was worth it. 

What was this sudden feeling? This sudden eeriness?

“Right, I should’ve known better”, you slowly stood up. “I can never get a moment of peace”, you angrily mumbled. “Don’t hide. I know you’re here”, you wiped some dirt from your uniform. 

“Hide?”, a chilling voice greeted you. 

This wasn’t a normal curse. This was trouble. 

“Who are you?”, you widened your stance, one hand in your pocket. “Mahito, nice to meet you”, a tall figure happily walked towards you. 

“What do you want?”. “You. Dead”, a big smile on its face. “Try me”, you grabbed a bag of blood from your pocket. “Oh, blood manipulation. Interesting”, the curse scratched underneath his chin, “But then again, I already knew that, didn’t I?”. 

It knew? 

“Just like I know about your little accident years ago. Don’t you want to get revenge? Don’t you want to make him pay?”. 

“It was an accident”, your heart racing, “He didn’t mean for it to happen”. “Then why are you still mad at him?”, a fake confused expression on Mahito’s face. “You know it’s his fault. You know it’s his fault your body is covered in scars”. “He didn’t mean to”. 

It scared you how much doubt there was in your voice. 

“He did”. 

T-that voice-

“S-suguru?”, you turned around, your legs shaking. 

“Missed me?”, a smile on his face. 

He was dead-

“Suguru!”, you immediately ran towards him, your arms eagerly wrapped around his body. You didn’t care what he’d done. He was your friend. You two were inseparable- 

“S-suguru?”, tears in your eyes as you fell to the ground, a sharp pain in your side. “Don’t worry, you’re not going to die. We just need Gojo”, a disgusted look on Geto’s face as he looked down at you. 

“W-what-“, “Don’t worry”, Mahito’s happy voice interrupted, “I can heal you, and your scars”. “D-don’t-“

Why couldn’t you use your cursed energy? 

“You’ve been poisoned”, Suguru coldly added, “You can’t use any cursed energy”. “Why did you do this?”, your sight blurry. “Don’t worry. The Suguru you know is gone”, a smirk on his face. 

Right. The Suguru you knew would never do this. He’d never- 

“You aren’t-“, “What a smart girl”, he kneeled down. “Mahito?”, Geto brushed some strands of hair from your face, “She’s useless. Do with her as you wish”. 

“Get your hands off her”. 

For once, you were happy to hear Gojo’s voice. 

“Finally. Let’s see how strong you really are”, Mahito laughed. 

“S-satoru-“, darkness surrounded you, “Leave”. “Leave?”, a gentle smile on his face as he walked towards the curse, “I owe you one, remember?”. 

--- 

“Suguru?”, you slowly opened your eyes. “Ouch”, a chuckle, “I saved your life, you know?”. 

“Satoru”, you immediately sat up straight, “Where am I?”. “In your room. Shoko took care of you”.  “S-shit”, you grunted as you felt a sharp pain in your side. “Careful”, his hand immediately behind your head, “Shoto did what she could, but you need plenty of rest”. 

Normally you’d rather die than let that idiot touch you, but now it felt kind of reassuring. 

“Thank you”, you whispered, “If you weren’t there, I’d be dead”. “As I said, I owed you one”. 

You knew he expected you to ask what had happened after you passed out, but you didn’t want to know. Not yet anyway. 

“Got you these”, he took something from your nightstand, “They’re my favorite”.

Mochi?

“Thanks”, an unintentional smile on your face. “They’re not regular mochi, you know? I got these from-“, “I recognize them, Satoru”, you gently smiled, “Thank you”. 

“Y/N, listen”. 

What a strange sight. He actually seemed nervous. 

“I never meant to… I didn’t know”, he clenched his jaw. “I hate myself for what happened back then. For the pain I caused you”. “I know”, you softly whispered. “If I knew there was another curse, I wouldn’t have-“. 

“Where were you?”, a lump in your throat. “I don’t blame you, but I’ve been wondering why you suddenly disappeared after I exorcised the first curse”. 

“Flowers”, he mumbled as he looked at the ground. “What?”, you frowned. “I was getting you flowers”, his hand massing the back of his neck. 

“F-flowers?”, you widened your eyes, cheeks blushing. “I guess I was in love with you back then”, he cleared his throat, “That’s why I was such a jerk… I thought you loved Suguru and –“. 

Why was he cute right now? Gojo wasn’t the type of man to seem insecure and shy, but it kind of suited him. It was refreshing to see a blush on his cheeks. 

“When you exorcised that first curse, you seemed so proud”, a nostalgic smile on his face. “I never doubted you for a second, but you did. You always underestimated yourself, so… I wanted to celebrate. I had this stupid idea of buying you flowers and asking you out on a date”. 

“Satoru-“. 

You finally understood. You understood why you hated him all this time. Why you never got close to him. Why he was the one person who could get under your skin. 

“I know it’s silly”, he chuckled, “Please don’t tell the students I have a crush on you”. 

“Have?”, you repeated the words in your head.

“Ask me”, you quietly responded, “Ask me if I want to go on a date”. 

“H-huh?”, his blue eyes towering over his glasses as he looked over them. 

“Ask me”. 

You didn’t love Suguru, you never did. You remembered why you even tried to get close to Suguru in the first place. You wanted to spend time with Gojo. 

“Do you want to have dinner with me?”, his voice sounded raspy. 

“No”, you nervously smirked. 

“Do you want to go to the arcade with me?”, he smiled when he realized what you were after. 

“Nope”, you shook your head. 

“Fine”, he playfully sighed, “Do you want to order pizza and watch a movie?”. 

“Bingo”, you held out your thumb. 

Why was the room so cold all of a sudden? 

“Can I see?”, a dark expression on his face. “What?”, you frowned. “What I’ve done to you”. 

No. 

“You haven’t done anything to me”.  “I want to see, Y/N”. 

Don’t run. Don’t run. Don’t run. 

“Okay”, you slowly unbuttoned your shirt. 

He was disgusted. He had to be. The dark scars on your stomach and chest, all the way to your arms… 

“I’m so sorry”, he lowered his head, a crack in his voice, “I’m sorry for the pain I’ve caused you”. “Do you still think I’m pretty?”, your eyes hanging low. “No”, his digits slowly tracing over your scars. 

“Right”, you closed your eyes, “That’s fine”. 

“I don’t think you're pretty, " the sweetest smile on his face, “I don’t think there are enough words to describe how beautiful you are. You’re divine. A goddess. I’ve always thought so”.

Shit. You were blushing. 

“T-thanks”, you awkwardly responded, his nose brushing against yours. “Ask me”, he smirked. “W-what?”, you loudly swallowed as you felt his lips hovering over yours. “Ask me to kiss you”. 

“Kiss me, please”. 

[viktorstittytank]

Part III: Spirits at work

Angstyyy~~

Technically this is bartender!reader and Silco but anyways part 3. Silco tries to do you a ‘favor’ and it’s not one you appreciate.

Didn’t love the way this one turned out

THERE IS MOMENTARY SPICINESS BUT NEXT PART HAS SMUT I ALREADY WROTE THAT ONE BEFORE THIS ONE DHSKSJNAM.

Enjoy🤍🖤🤍

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Yesterday morning when you walked into work you came face to face with the devil himself adorned in a new blue velvet vest you’d already imagined yourself popping the buttons off of to access his clavicle, hair slicked neatly, with stealthily applied concealer set upon the scarring of his eye and instead of “good morning” or “thank you for my morning coffee” the first thing he said to you was “You’re fired.”

The fucker fired you. Then that condescending Cheshire grin of his made an appearance, you couldn’t help yourself.

Without a second thought you launched the lamp from the main office right at his head. The situation was already embarrassing enough but having to be personally escorted out by Sevika was even less dignifying.

Honestly you didn’t get it. You dealt with the tiny ass desk, you dealt with the stanky ass attitude, you even subjected your feet to medieval fucking torture for this aggressive string bean of a man and this is how you’re repaid? You knew you were dreaming big with hopes for a promotion you just didn’t know how far you stood.

For the first day of unemployment you stayed home. Drank, cried, slept. You even had enough time for some ✨self care✨. Maybe this was better. Maybe you were better off relaxing at home for the rest of your life. It’s nice not running around all the time. But then the mailman came by and a crème colored envelope with gold wax sealing it shut appeared with your name written neatly in Silco’s cursive on the back. You had a new job.

Here you are washing the new set of crystal cups behind the bar of the last drop.

Your supervisor Carl or Dick or some other stupid forgettable name showed you where everything was 15 minutes ago so you’ve decided to make yourself useful and acquaint yourself with the nice cups.

Your new uniform is pretty much just an erotic version of your original one. Button down with the first three buttons undone, leather shorts, and flats (thank god).

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing working here?” Some bald dude offers attempting to start conversation.”Your mom.” You sigh.

It’s 12:00 pm there’s maybe 5 customers including the nuisance that won’t stop trying to talk to you. “Don’t be like that sweetheart I just wanna talk with y’a. Get to know y’a. Have a civilized conversation.” You slam the cup down reaching for another. “You’re distracting me.”

He huffs taking a gulp from his bottle. His eyes dance across your chest a second too long. “Aren’t you bitches supposed to be good company or something?”

“You can talk plenty at the lounge down the street. There’s lots of lovely girls who’ll let you talk their ears off but I don’t get paid enough to give a damn.” You really don’t. man you miss your paycheck. No more lobster dinners with your girlfriends. No more splurging at the spa in Piltover you’d wanted to visit for years. No more twenties to spare for the hunched over individuals sheltered by the darkness.

It’s all over.

Not that you need it but it was nice feeling special. Even just for a moment.

“You know mam-“ “Back off man can’t you see the lady doesn’t want to talk?” That Carl guy is back with a box. He places it on the counter and the bottles inside clink. The bald guy cuts his eyes, picking up his drink and heading to a different part of the parlor. Creep.

“So did you used to be the big man’s mistress or something?” Carl smells like cheese. He makes you miss Silco. He’s awful for that, making you miss that asshat.

“No, I was his secretary.” You set down the last polished glass and hang up the rag heading over to the box to restock the overhead shelf. “So that’s a yes.”

“Do you even know what a secretary is?” You retaliate. You wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t, this is Zaun after all.

“It’s a pretty lady who sits in your office and helps you with all your needs-“ “nope I’m a personal assistant. That’s it. Does everyone around here think I slept with him?” Carl pauses for a moment blinking at you, you groan as you speed up the restocking process. Another thing to be embarrassed about.

“I mean to be as highly respected as you were-“ “I’d have to be sleeping with the infamous crime lord. I can see how that idea would manifest.” “Plus it’s hard to think the two of you got along without…”

“Well for your information and no one else’s we didn’t. We never got along. I threw a lamp at his head when he fired me.” Carl laughs. It’s so loud some of the customers turn to look at him before resuming their conversations. You have to bite the inside of your cheek. “Thought that was a rumor.” He gasps once he’s got air in his lungs. You shamelessly shrug.

“Almost everyone thinks the two of you had this forbidden romance where you were basically his queen and eventually the two of you would run away to Piltover. Something like that.” “Yeah well we never dated.” Carl seems disappointed at this information but the smile on his face has yet to wipe away. You can only hope he isn’t a gossip.

“That’s hilarious. Maybe don’t tell Gabriel though. It’s his entire life. You’ll break him, you know there isn’t much down here in Zaun let him have this one thing.”

You glance over at Gabriel. He’s knuckles deep in his nose zoned out to the point you have to wonder if he’s even mentally there but once he sees you he waves excitedly. Maybe you should let him have that.

One day on your feet and you already miss that evil forsaken desk. It’s 10:00 now, thirty minutes till the bar is closed. Everyone still here is on the last rounds of their games or finishing up their conversations. Many heading down the street to make themselves comfortable with the escorts.

All day today you’ve struggled to focus because your lovely gadget isn’t here to keep you company. It’s hard to find time to do so when every couple of minutes someone’s ordering a drink or trying to start a fight. And since you’ve had no relief your brain took it upon itself to torture you with thoughts of Silco.

The way he smelled like salted morning breeze some mornings and deep wooded forests on others. The way his fingers seemed to be dancing no matter what task they were completing. The way his tall form towered over you as he handed you your morning paperwork. Stop thinking about Silco.

You scrub the counter harder. Maybe if you beat it to death with your rag your brain will shut up.

Speak of the devil.

The bar quiets down to the point you can hear the sharp tip tap tap of his polished dress shoes meeting the ground. Growing louder the closer he gets.

Silco seats himself in the stool directly in front of you, completely dismissing the fact you’re wiping down the bar prepping for closing time. “I’ll have a sunny on the rocks. Make it a double.” He gravely mumbles, focusing his sights on the collection of spirits behind you. The room has silenced in his presence.

Glancing at him you can see that the day has worn him out. His morning glow is replaced with the sunken heaviness of a day's hard work, tie undone, strands of once gelled down hair falling out of place. But he still holds his cold handsome air. Seems not much can shake that.

Rolling your eyes, you mindfully fix what he asked for and place it in front of him.

“Good to see you’re still capable of taking orders.” He grumbles delicately lifting the glass to his lips. “It’s almost as if I’m transferring skills overnight.” “Hm.” He takes another nice long sip of his drink, lanky form slumped against the countertop. Slides the empty glass back over to you and silently stares at you expectantly.

Making your way over to refill his crystal you catch his eyes hopping over to Carl, a scowl starting to pull at his mouth. Carl doesn’t notice too busy trying to make himself look busy but you do.

“Why did you come by?” Your voice comes out gravelly more textured than you mean it to.

Silco’s fingers tap the tip of his chin while he studies your new uniform. His eyes linger on the name tag’s ‘Walter’. “Just wanted to see how my favorite employee is coping with these…unfortunate conditions.” He grumbles. You would have barely heard him if it wasn’t so quiet.

You glance over his shoulder at the rest of the bar and some turn away resuming their conversations, others don’t even try to hide that they’re watching the exchange. “Careful old man you’ll make me think you might have actually missed me.”

“It’s been two days.” He states raking a hand through his hair. The stench of fine cigars is soaked into his clothes.

“You’re keeping count.”

“I think it would be in your best interest…career wise that I left you at an arm's length.” You frown and swear you see the corner of his mouth quirk up. “This feel like arms length to you?” You reach over harshly poking him in the shoulder and his expression hardens.

“It’s something to put on your resume. It’s impressive if you can apply your skills in multiple areas of work.”

“Silco, I am a grown woman. I don’t need you to fight my battles for me whatever you think they may be-“

“You’re naive.” “I’m thorough.” “You make mistakes.” “Doesn’t everyone?” “You make me worry. And when I worry you’re off the job.”

“So you’re firing me cus you care about me.” “Fired it’s in the past now.” He grumbles into his glass. “Silco you don’t get to make decisions for me just cus you care about me.” “I think you overestimate the emotion I hold for you.” He sends a pointed look your way.

“You could be right. You could’ve fired me to be a piece of shit and watch me suffer. It’s a good thing I won’t be working here much longer.”

This information seems to throw him off. The scowl returns to his face. “And where will you go?” You lean in close. Close enough you can smell the spirits on him. “I could always be an escort. I’m sure someone would appreciate my presence. Maybe Finn was right.”

The two of you stay like that glaring into the eyes of the other daring one another to move, blink, flinch, give in. You aren't going down without a fight this time. He can lie to himself all he wants but at the end of the day Silco cares about you. And he knows you care about him. Sure it’s terrifying but that doesn’t mean you go around firing someone anytime you feel an emotion you’re not comfortable with.

This staring contest is all great and dandy until your beloved mind begins to wander. You can see him standing over you messing with the buckle of his belt. Your back pressed into that oh-so-familiar oakwood head falling back with a moan, breasts puckering from the opening of your top. “Y/n?”

He’s staring at you with that unreadable expression again. You glance down at the counter top to comfort your racing mind. Without a second thought, you button your shirt up. Silco looks away.

“Hey hey, what’re you doing the girls are good for business.” Carl calls after you. You’re already reaching the the back door by the time you yell over your shoulder. “I need some air.”

The night air is cool against your skin. It settles the burning. You defeatedly sit on the ground and lean your back against the building. What now?

He cares about you. What do you do now?

Nothing. Even if you wanted Silco’s made it pretty clear he doesn’t want the two of you to get close. He’d rather die alone and suffering than let you in.

The only person he knows he can count on.

You chuckle at yourself.

You’re silly for even thinking the two of you could ever be intimate. He won’t even let you be respectable acquaintances. How could you possibly find your way in his well tailored pants.

You stay out for a little while longer. Count the few stars you can see, the ones that still burn bright enough. When you come back inside there’s about three customers still left and one of them is passed out.

“Is he gone?” “Yes.” You sigh deeply heading behind the bar to help clean up.

“That was a little intense don’t ya think?” “He’s an intense man.” You mutter stacking glasses into the sink. “He never stops being intense. Has to keep his edge or else he might accidentally let people in.”

“You know what you and I can deal with in the morning. Why don’t you head home and I’ll close up tonight.” Carl offers.

You smile at the gesture. Maybe it’s a good thing you work here now. You can’t imagine Silco letting you go home early unless he had a cigar on hand.

“That sounds amazing.” You grunt out stretching. “Goodnight Carl.”

“That’s not my name.” This catches you off guard.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

He chuckles at your response before repeating himself. “My name isn’t Carl.” You nod slowly and wait for him to correct you but he doesn’t. He just stares at you.

What the fuck is this dude’s name?

“Okay good night man.” You try again grabbing your things and heading out.

You’re pretty sure you’ve been calling him that ALL DAY.

The next day when you arrive Carl points you in the direction of Silco’s office. You don’t ask questions.

The smoke from his cigar swirls around his head curling through the air. It’s darker than it used to be with the curtains.

The room smells like tar and tobacco. Sevika’s brooding form decorates the corner of the room. Seems it hasn’t exactly been unicorns and rainbows since you were removed from your position.

The glass of whisky Silco’s babysitting shimmers under the harsh yellow lighting of the lamp on his desk. The one you threw at him. His languid frame sits slumped over his desk. It’s a bit early for day drinking. “I see you’ve missed me.”

He scoffs, flicking his cigar. “Hello Y/n.”

“Have you called me to admit you were wrong?” “No. But I do require your services. I have a collection of papers I’d like for you to work on. I’m busy adjusting the company at the moment and would appreciate your assistance in handling the less strenuous tasks.”

“What if I said no?” You don’t miss the slight tilt of his head or the way he squints his eyes at you. “And why would you do that.” “Well for starters I don’t work here.”

“If you couldn’t tell things have changed since you left. It’s come to my attention that not only have shimmer sales gone down, commerce is being attacked by vigilantes “hero’s” if you will.” His fist clenches. “I need the time and ability to deal with situation at hand, something I can’t do if I’m stuck here working on statistical collection.”

“And what do you expect me to do about that?”

“Well I don’t expect you to do…anything.” His gaze wavers at this proclamation. It seems Silco is asking your help.

“I…I was wondering if you would be oh so generous to resume your position as my secretary. Your presence has always been a prominent one and without you around well,” he gestures at the office. The darkly ambiance sitting inside. “Nothings quite the same.”

“What if I still say no.” He considers this, leans back into his own chair crossing one leg on top of the other.

“I’ll demote you to toilet cleaner.”

You’ll try your luck at that.

“I’m not very interested in assisting you. I can do paperwork from behind the bar. More leg room.” When you say this you glance over at your tiny desk still sitting in the corner.

Silco sighs at the sight of it.

“It’s too bad you can’t take the offer.” He grabs another cigar from across his desk in one fluid motion.

“I was willing to increase your pay.” “Wait-“ “You are dismissed.” He says pulling out a collection of papers and starting to work on them.

Your jaw is basically touching the floor. He played you.

“Goodbye Y/n.” He repeats a smug lilt to his tone. Looking over at Sevika you can tell she’s trying not to laugh.

Huffing and standing to your feet you see your way out to help whatever that guy’s name is. You should’ve known better than to walk in blind.

Figures even with you still technically fired he isn’t willing to plainly state that he needs you.

You go about your day making orders, washing glasses, and conversing with the few regulars Carl’s told you about.

During the busiest hour Silco passes through clearly on his way to sort out the issues he mentioned in your cozy little morning huddle and you glare into the back of his head. Maybe if you glare hard enough it’ll explode.

Not much after Sevika drops off your paperwork and a pen.

It’s a long day.

Closing goes smoothly. It only takes a little while to clean all the cups and neatly stack them back where they go. Carl leaves early and gives you the keys.

Apparently he’s got to get home for his kid’s birthday.

When you’re done you wipe the water from your hands onto your apron and a weird feeling falls over you. Like you’re being watched. Weird.

You don’t dwell on it too much grabbing your coat and locking up for the night.

After a long day of staring at charts, graphs, and highlighting every other word while you pour and serve drinks you stumble into your home kicking your shoes off at the door.

In the distant darkness you can see the perfect outline of a figure slumped against the cushions of your loveseat.

Who the fuck is in your house?

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🤍🤍🤍🤍 part 4

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