#and maybe now you can go back and listen to the songs from that time again

[gurugirl]

Maybe Fate

MAIN MASTERLIST

This was first posted on Patreon one year ago! Figured I’d share it here with y’all on tumblr! 💕

Summary: The first time you meet Harry is under odd circumstances. But the second time you meet him it feels like fate. Well, if you believe in that sort of thing.

A/N: I have a couple of songs linked through to Spotify if you are interested in listening to set the scene - it's not necessary, though!

Word Count: 8,347

Warning: smut, cuteness, loud sex that can be heard by others

..

Your roommate K had some gall. You could hear her and whoever it was she brought home from the bar going at it for what seemed like an exaggerated amount of time. How was it possible that they could last that long? Why were they still having sex?

As annoying as it was to lose sleep (you had a test in the morning so it was a little more than just annoying) you could admit, it did sound like she was getting it good.

The man, who you’d not yet seen and probably would not be seeing, had a deep voice. And not just any deep voice. He sounded—hot. You couldn’t hear everything that that he said but he was vocal and he was definitely talking dirty to her.

Of course, there was also her bed wildly bouncing and frame smacking into the wall which told you he was plowing her in a way that made you a little jealous. You hadn’t been laid in a while. It was your senior year at university and you were busting your ass like the good student you were. You needed a good grade to get the internship you were up for that summer.

So sleep was vital. And here you were listening as K was getting the life fucked out of her. She sounded like she was crying but then you’d hear her long drawn-out moans of pleasure…

You stuffed your pillow over your head and groaned. If you failed your test the following day you’d be having a word with her about proper roommate etiquette. They could keep it down. There was no way they weren’t aware you could hear every little thing happening on her bed. You could even hear their bodies colliding every time he thrust into her.

Jesus. You needed sleep. But you also needed to get laid.

. . .

You didn’t fail your test, but you barely passed. But a passing grade was a passing grade you thought to yourself as you ordered your cappuccino. You were exhausted. Memories of what had kept you up had you rolling your eyes.

K was nice. You didn’t know her well, though. You were renting a small two-bedroom apartment and found it through an ad she’d posted. It would have been nice to have a place of your own but who could afford that? So, being stuck with K was more out of necessity than anything. You didn’t have much choice.

And up until the night before you’d really had no major complaints. She was six years older than you and had a regular job. She brought men home from time to time but nothing like her most recent Casanova that shook the whole apartment. And it was funny to you how she was always out partying and drinking while you stayed in on the weekends and studied til your eyes bulged out of your head. It should have been the opposite with you being the college kid and her the more mature adult.

Your plan had been to go home and crawl back into bed to catch up on the sleep you’d missed out on. But when you walked into your apartment you realized that K was still home. Which was odd since it was midday Thursday. Normally she was working.

You tossed your bag in your room and toed off your tennis shoes before making your way to the shared bathroom in the hallway and pushing open the door.

But instead of finding the bathroom unoccupied, you were met with a naked man who looked just as surprised as you were, “Oh shit!”

You turned quickly and put your hands over your eyes, “Sorry! Oh my god!”

The shock of seeing a man’s naked dick when you were not expecting it had you a bit dazed.

“Sorry, I’m covered now. Sorry,” you heard his voice and realized immediately who the offender was. The rowdy Casanova from the night before.

You kept your fingers over your eyes as you turned and slowly parted your digits to make sure it was safe.

He laughed and you verified he was indeed covered. But you did notice all the tattoos on his chest and arms, and his dark curls and soft green eyes… Yeah K was a lucky girl. Damn.

You didn’t stare long, though. But you could tell his body looked like he had a lot of stamina, and after everything you’d heard the night before you understood it all now.

“I’m Harry,” he held a hand out to you in greeting.

You smiled up at him and slid your palm into his, “Y/n. Uh… I’m guessing you’re K’s friend?”

He laughed again. Even his laugh was attractive with a big grin and nice teeth, “Yeah. I guess you could call me her friend.”

“Got it,” you nodded as you backed up out of the bathroom, “Well, I’ll come back when you’re done in here. Honestly didn’t mean to see…” you waved your hand around, “any of that.”

. . .

You didn’t see Harry again after that. You did hear him again the following night, though. But this time you had a picture in your head of the man who was obliterating K with that big thing between his legs and his nicely built body with broad shoulders and thick, muscled thighs.

It was no wonder she was crying out in ecstasy. You wondered if she’d need to repaint the wall where the frame was knocking into the plaster repeatedly. Wondered if other neighbors could hear (surely they could). Wondered what position he was putting her in and how he might look doing it.

Then you heard a loud pop and K’s choked gasp and then another three or four pops. He was spanking her.

You rolled your eyes so hard you felt the force of your sockets nearly separate from your eyeballs. It wasn’t fair. God, what you wouldn’t give to have a man that looked like that fucking you so hard into your mattress you were a blubbering mess and then to have him spank you with those big hands…

You could almost see the dimpled smirk on his face as he landed his palms over her bum. You could hear his voice but it was difficult to make out the words he was saying over the racket of the squeaky bed and K’s high-pitched moans.

And once again, the amount of stamina he had to last as long as he did was quite amazing to you. Most of the guys you’d slept with couldn’t keep going like that or they’d come too fast.

But of course, the longer they lasted, the less sleep you were awarded.

. . .

Graduating from university felt different than you imagined it would. Nothing much really changed. You envisioned getting that internship and starting a new life and making new friends with people who had the same interests as you.

But instead, you found yourself not getting picked for the internship even though you were more than qualified, and moving back in with your parents once your lease with K was up.

Honestly, it felt a lot like high school again, except this time you needed to get a job. And as it turned out having your engineering degree meant zilch when you had no experience to speak of. So you were forced to find something that had nothing to do with the framed certificate hung on the wall in your childhood bedroom.

So that’s why you needed a night out or something. Something to break up the monotony of what this very disappointing after-graduation life looked like so far.

“I know it might sound really lame, but I am going bowling with some friends. On Fridays, they have $10 pitchers of beer and pizza. Cheap fun.” Your cousin, Lee, told you over the phone when you called to find out what her plans were.

But even if you were terrible at bowling, beer and pizza with adults your age sounded really fun. You needed to get out of your parent's house and do anything else. Bowling sounded more appealing than listening to your dad talk about his coworkers and what time he was gonna light up the grill and make hamburgers (then hear him complain about how you don’t eat meat).

Rocket Soul Bowl was one of those dirty, old bowling alleys. The parking lot was filled with potholes and had weeds growing up through the cracks and the inside smelled of stale cigarette smoke, had dim lighting, with old school rock and R&B playing. It was perfect.

Well. Better than watching your parents eat hamburgers while you stuck with chips and potato salad.

You found Lee with one of her friends after you got your used (and hopefully sanitized) bowling shoes and she already had a pitcher of beer on the table with plastic cups.

“Y/n!” She jumped up and hugged you, “This is Chris,” she gestured toward the guy who stood up to reach his hand out for you to shake. “We’re waiting on Harry. And then we’ll start bowling and order pizza.”

You smiled at Lee and Chris and then poured beer into your cup as you sat down on the hard, smooth plastic bench at the table. It wasn’t often you heard the name Harry. Immediately your mind went to the tall curly-headed man with tattoos. Part of you thought how funny it would be if that was the Harry who was meeting up with your cousin at the bowling alley. In all the world, to have it be the same Harry seemed impossible.

But when a Bill Withers song began playing over the speakers and Chris stood up to greet someone who approached you from behind, “Hey man! Good to see you!” It was like something inside of you just knew. Before you even heard his voice or looked at his green eyes.

Placing your plastic cup down you stood up and turned to see him. Harry hugged Lee but the moment they parted from the hug he saw you and the smile on his face changed to a flirty grin. “Y/n, what a surprise. Are you the cousin?” You noted he had a black helmet tucked under his arm.

You nodded and looked at Lee and back at Harry, “Yeah. I’m Lee’s cousin. You guys know each other?”

Lee laughed, “For years. Wait? You know Harry?”

Before you could speak Harry grabbed your hand and pulled you into his side, draping his arm over your shoulder, “We do,” he looked down at you, “Intimately.”

Chris laughed and you shook your head, pushing yourself out from under his arm, “We know each other, but not really. Definitely not intimately. He’s joking,” you laughed.

Harry’s demeanor did not falter, “But we do, Y/n. You’ve seen my cock and balls and bush. I’d say that’s intimate.”

You looked at Lee, still shaking your head, “No, that was an accident–“

“She’s playing shy. Knows very well some other very intimate details about me as well,” he kept his eyes on you, the edge of his mouth playing upward in a smirk, “Isn’t that right?”

You rolled your eyes and laughed as you squinted at him, “You’re crazy.”

Harry pulled you back into his side and put his arm over your shoulder, “I am a little.”

When Lee put everyone’s name in the computer and the match started it was your turn first. You picked a bowling ball you liked the color of and stood along the lines on the slick floors and attempted to launch the ball down the center of the lane but once it got toward the end the ball suddenly veered to the left and only knocked down two pins.

You repeated your move, trying to make the ball stay toward the center but it rolled in nearly the same path as before, veering to the left at the end, this time hitting nothing before it rolled into the gutter and then it was Harry’s turn.

“Better luck next time, Cherry,” he eyed your shirt as he spoke and picked up his ball.

You were wearing a black t-shirt with cherries on the front with the words Have a cherry good time! You rolled your eyes as you sat down and sipped your beer. But inside you were feeling something other than annoyed. In fact, you could say you were quite pleased that Harry was there.

It turned out, as was no surprise, that you were a terrible bowler. So was Lee. Chris was good enough to hold his own, but what was surprising was how good Harry was. He claimed he rarely bowled, that it was just luck. But you weren’t sure about all that.

The four of you sat on the plastic chairs after your first set and ate pizza (you opted for cheese) with a fresh pitcher of beer, “I’m just good at most things I do. I have no idea why,” Harry laughed before taking a huge bite of his slice of pizza.

“It’s true. This guy just learns how to do something and immediately he’s good at it. In our sophomore year at university, I was on the track team and one day I was at practice and Harry just pops in because he wants to chat about something so I tell him I’ve got to run laps so he just goes with me. The whole team was out there practicing in our athletic gear, like just dragging and sweating and Harry’s in jeans and a t-shirt and he’s running next to me not even breaking a sweat. He held a whole conversation while we were full-on running without skipping a beat.”

Chris took a drink from his cup, “Oh, and then there was the time that girl was showing us how to play chess and Harry sits and watches and listens to her explain the game so he plays a round with her and he fucking beats her. Like?”

The four of you laugh but the truth is you’re a bit impressed. You also happen to know another thing he’s really good at, but you stop yourself from allowing that thought to develop further.

The next game you play, you also suck. You barely hit any pins but you were having such a good time you could have cared less. Of course, Harry was just strike after strike. One time he went up with his plastic cup, launched his ball with one hand while he took a sip of beer and hit all but two pins. On his next try, he threw the ball, knocking down the two remaining. But that was him showing off. His cocky grin aimed at you as he sat down.

But the best part was that he sat next to you every time he went back to the seats when his turn was over. He kept his arm over your shoulder with his thigh flush against yours.

It made you hot having him so close. Every time you looked down at his thighs you were reminded of that day you saw him. You knew what he looked like with no jeans covering his bottom half. And you knew those muscles were definitely good for something.

It was hard not to think about Harry that way. He was hot and he was flirty.

And when your mind was wandering into the figurative gutters (unlike the literal ones your bowling ball kept wandering into) about what he’d be like with you in bed you didn’t realize it was your turn as you listened to his husky voice with his arm over your shoulder and his fingers brushing the skin just under your t-shirt sleeve.

“Cherry girl, your turn,” he spoke into your ear, breaking you from your reverie.

Another bad round. You were terrible. You laughed as you turned back to see Harry right behind you waiting his turn, “Come here,” he pulled at your hand, “Let’s do this together. Your form is all wrong.”

“But if I bowl on your turn I’m gonna fuck up your score.”

Harry’s dimples poked into his cheeks as he smiled, “Why would I care about my score? I’m not making money on this or anything. Even if we hit no pins I’m still gonna win anyway. Now get your cute ass over here so we can figure out what’s going on.”

You coughed a laugh and looked back at Lee who was watching the exchange with her brows raised. Yeah, she’d been giving you looks the entire time. You were sure she thought you and Harry had something going on. You could only hope.

Harry moved you up to the line as he stood behind you with his hands on your shoulders and then he pushed his chest to your back, helping you hold the ball correctly, positioning your hands with his, “Hold it like this, yeah?” His voice vibrated off the shell of your ear and down the back of your neck.

“There, good girl, Cherry. Just like that.” He let go of your hands and then you felt his grip on the back of your hips, “We’re gonna take one step forward, and then as you bring your other leg up you’ll swing this back for momentum before pushing it out and letting it roll toward the pins. Follow my lead.”

He nudged you forward before putting one hand on your right arm, “Now bring it back,” he let you swing the ball back before you felt him push the ball in your hands, giving you a bit more oomph in your swing. “And release. Like that…” he stayed against your back as you both watched the ball roll down the lane and rather than either going directly into the gutter or only hitting the last two pins on the left it was almost center and hit half the pins.

You jumped up and spun around, “Oh my god! It worked!” He laughed as you hugged him and you felt his arms squeeze around your middle before letting you go.

“Now try it again. See if you can do the same thing I just showed you.”

You took your bowling ball and lined up, holding the ball upward as Harry showed you, and then moved to swing and release. The ball didn’t have as much power as when he had helped you but it still hit three more pins.

You jumped up and down and turned back, high-fiving Harry as you both took your seats next to one another. It felt good to hit more pins. Something about it was exhilarating and maybe it was the way Harry looked proud that had you feeling that excitement even more so. It didn’t matter, though. You were having so much fun.

But all good things must come to an end. When the last round was nearly over and you were still losing while Harry was blowing everyone out of the water, you were feeling a bit of anxiety at that being it. Maybe you’d never see him again. He hadn’t asked for your number and even though he was obviously flirting with you there was no guarantee it actually meant much of anything.

When Lee took her turn and a Bruce Springsteen song came on you felt Harry’s fingers move to the back of your neck, “What are you doing after this?”

You smiled as you looked at him, his face was incredibly close to yours, “No plans. You?”

“What a coincidence that two young and attractive people have no plans on a Friday night after bowling. Wouldn’t you say?”

You laughed as his fingers trailed over the skin on your neck, “Yeah. Wild coincidence.”

“Actually it is. Maybe fate even,” he grinned teasingly, “I’m pretty sure this means we’re meant to hang out after this. Me and you, Cherry. You can’t say no to fate.”

The smile on your face couldn’t be removed if anyone tried. Because maybe Harry was right. Maybe it was fate. Maybe the coincidences in life that we think of as just coincidences are more than just random occurrences.

“That’s true. Who can say no to fate.”

You watched him lick his lips before Lee sat at the computer and tallied up the score. Obviously, Harry had won, to no one’s surprise.

Everyone stood up to say their goodbyes. Lee hugged you as she pulled you toward the exit with Harry and Chris following behind after you’d dropped off your rented shoes, “So, you and Harry?”

You laughed and shook your head, “I don’t know. He invited me to hang out after this. Maybe just a little fun,” you raised your brows and Lee laughed.

Harry had a black motorcycle, which explained the helmet he had with him, that had coincidentally (once again) been parked right next to your little shitter car.

“Where are you parked?” He said as he looked at you. Lee and Chris were already headed away toward their cars.

You pointed to the car right next to Harry’s motorcycle, “That’s me.”

Harry’s eyes took in your old beater and he leaned against the door, “Wanna take a ride with me? I can bring you back to your car later.”

You nodded, “Should I have a helmet?”

Harry raised up the black one that he had, “You’ll wear this. Okay?”

“But what about you?”

Harry inched in closer to you as he unhooked the buckle on the helmet, “I’ll be fine. My place is pretty close if you want to go there,” he raised his brows at you in question.

“Oh. Sure. Okay.” His place.

“Yeah? Did you want to go somewhere else instead?” He pulled the helmet over your head and adjusted the straps as you looked at his face.

“Your place is fine, Harry. I’d like that.”

When he’d fixed the helmet tight to your head he looked at you and lowered his gaze over your frame with a sexy grin, “Cute.”

You’d never ridden on a motorcycle before. Harry got on first and held your hand to help you on behind him, “Put your arms around me and hold on.” Turned out you really enjoyed the ride. The cool night air whipped around your body while the world around you flew by in a fuzzy blur as Harry safely took you to your destination.

You liked sitting behind him and holding onto his waist. The smell of his cologne or soap was fresh and his body was warm. You felt like a different person on the back of that bike with Harry. You didn’t know what to expect exactly but that was part of the thrill.

Harry turned into an apartment complex and parked at the front before helping you off the bike, “This is my place,” he gestured toward the second floor of the building and then helped you take the helmet off. Which you didn’t need him to do but found you loved his attention on you.

Following behind Harry you walked up the steps to the second level and he got to his door and stuck his key in. Before he opened his door he turned to look at you, “Kind of messy inside. Didn’t expect to have company.”

When you stepped in and he turned on the lights you looked around. It was about as messy as seemed appropriate. Nothing crazy. An empty glass of water next to a bowl of what looked like dry cereal on the coffee table, a blanket bunched up on the couch, trainers by the door with socks tucked inside, and some books on the floor next to a chair by the couch.

“Would you like anything to drink? Water? Beer? Uh… that’s really all I’ve got.”

“Nah. I’m good. Thank you, Harry.”

He sat the helmet down on the coffee table and plopped onto the couch, patting the space next to him, “Come here, Cherry.”

You laughed and sat next to him. Harry pushed his arm over your shoulders, his body angled toward you, “You know that day you walked in on me in the bathroom?”

You raised a brow at him, looking up to his face, “Yeah?”

“I kind of wanted to get your number. Is that bad of me since I was there with K?”

You breathed a laugh through your nose, “A little bad. But why? Sounded like you really liked K.”

Harry cackled loudly and his body shook the couch as he gripped your shoulder, “I liked her. But she was just using me for my body,” he teased, “But seriously. You were so cute and then I never saw you again. Thought about you a few times after.”

You grinned as you squinted at him, “You did not think about me after. Seemed you forgot anyone else existed while you were in her bed that night.”

He watched your lips as you spoke and he nodded, “I tend to just give it my all when I’m with someone, casual or not. If other people happen to hear then that’s fine. I’ve got no shame.”

“Clearly,” you grinned.

Harry scrunched his brows and looked over your face, “What do you like, Y/n? Does it bother you when other people can hear you having sex?”

You dropped your mouth open and blinked at him in surprise, “I… Well, first of all, I don’t think anyone has ever overheard me having sex. It tends to be relatively quiet I guess?”

“Really? I don’t think I’ve ever had sex that was quiet. Unless I’m wanking myself off but that doesn’t count. So you like quiet sex, then?” He smirked at you and tucked his lips into his mouth.

You shook your head, “I just mean I haven’t had loud sex is all,” you smiled, “I think it could be fun. Sounded like it was fun…”

“It was. But I like to have fun. Bet you’d like it too.”

You were caught in the moment with Harry like there was a force that made looking away from him impossible. You smiled shyly and pulled your bottom lip between your teeth.

“How are you this cute?” He lifted his hand up to your cheek and you watched his pupils wind over your features. “Cherry girl with cherry lips,” he settled his gaze on your irises, “Pretty eyes.”

He lowered his hand to brush his knuckles down your neck softly and you closed your eyes at the light touch as you released your bottom lip from your teeth.

“Likes her neck touched,” his voice lowered as he spoke, moving in closer to you, “Probably likes it kissed too. Yeah?”

You opened your eyes to look at him and nodded. You did like your neck kissed, that was true.

His thumb pressed the side of your neck as he looked at the skin under his fingers, “Is it okay if I do? Right here?”

“Yeah,” you spoke in a breath before you felt his warm pink lips on your skin and the whole world melted away the moment you felt his tongue lave up to your jaw.

He pressed gentle kisses down your neck and then up to the lobe of your ear, “Tastes like cherries,” his breath warming your skin and making you breakout in goosebumps as he continued using his mouth and tongue all around your skin, his damp lips leaving traces of his saliva in each spot he kissed.

Your breath deepened as you moved your hand to the top of his thigh, “Oh my god,” you whispered, not even realizing you’d spoken.

Harry smiled as he lowered his lips to the collar of your shirt, dotting the skin just above the fabric with pecks, and then you felt his hand grip the back of your head before his mouth was pressed against yours and now you were in space kissing the man that coincidence (or fate) had brought back into your life.

You moaned into his mouth as you placed your hands on his broad back and he leaned over you, moving your back into the couch and licking the seam of your lips before you pressed your tongue against his.

Soft and smooth kisses slowly became eager and wanton. Harry’s mouth and his hands directed the whole thing. He pushed your legs apart and settled himself down between them, his hand wrapped around the back of your neck.

When he lowered his mouth to your neck again you let out a helpless gasp and he puffed a laugh against your skin but he didn’t stop. You felt his mouth at the curve of where your neck and shoulder met as his free hand grasped your side, his hips pinning you down. It made you dizzy.

You pulled at his shirt, the material bunching in your hands so you could feel his skin under your palm. He was warm and even his back was strong. You could feel him flexing under your hand as he sat up and slid his shirt off over his head.

You followed suit, pushing yourself to sit up and remove your cherry t-shirt. Harry’s eyes honed in on your bra-covered breasts and he dipped down, cupping both sides with his hands and licking over the thin fabric to wet the spot right over your nipple. You were pushed back down into the couch as Harry’s lips worked over your bra and his hands squeezed.

He moaned as he used his thumb to pull the fabric down slowly and then pressed his lips to the plump skin on your tits where the fabric was pulled down.

“Take it off,” you moaned as Harry’s green eyes settled on yours and he pushed his hands behind your back to unhook your bra. He dropped his mouth to your clavicle as he worked to get your bra undone and when he’d finally had success you felt the material being pulled out from under your back as he dragged the bra from you and draped it over the back of the couch.

He dove in right away. Lips parted, tongue out as he wetted your skin and kissed your nipples one by one.

You put your hands into his hair, thick brown curls between your fingers as he began to lower his lips down to your belly button.

You quickly released his hair and unbuttoned your pants, giving him permission to take them off if he chose.

And he definitely did. With his lips parted and shiny he looked at you as he tugged your jeans down your legs before squeezing at your soft thighs running his palms up to your hips over your panties, “Fucking beautiful.”

He kneaded your tits in his hands again and then softly coaxed his hands down your sides to the tops of your thighs, pressing his fingers into the meat as he took you in.

You saw a grin pull up on his face as he dragged his thumb to the edge of the fabric of your panties, “You like me don’t you?”

You laughed, “Well I think that should be obvious, I’m sitting here in my panties in your apartment.”

Harry looked back down to your panties and smiled, “That you are. I can see just how much you like me too,” he looked up at you as he ran his knuckle down the crotch of your panties and that’s when you realized what he meant. You were wet through your panties.

Out of instinct, you began to close your legs when Harry held your thighs apart and tutted at you, “But guess what? I like you too. Want to get to know you real good, cherry. Wanna know just what you like and how you like it.”

You wiggled your toes as your heart pounded with your legs spread out for Harry to inspect as he pleased.

Harry looked up at you, letting go of your thighs, and began to unzip his jeans, “Wanna see how much I like you?”

You nodded and laughed nervously as you watched him peel his jeans off and you could see the clear erection under his briefs. It was curved to the left a bit, tucked under the band of his underwear until he reached his hand in and positioned his cock upward.

You swallowed. You weren’t sure where to look. His strong thighs, his soft abs, his muscled pecs, or the glorious thick erection bulging at this underwear.

Tonight was your lucky night you decided.

“See? Pretty good match yeah?” He grinned as he smoothed his hands over your thighs again and up to your panties, “What do you want, Y/n? Should we take this further?”

You nodded, “Yes.”

He licked his lips again as he looked at your pretty face, “Okay. How far do you want to go with me?”

You inhaled and blinked your eyes. You wanted it all. Wanted whatever he wanted. Hoped he wanted to fuck you with that big thing but you weren’t sure that’s what he meant. Maybe he didn’t–“

Harry leaned over you and cupped your jaw gently, “Seems you’re overthinking a little so I’ll make this easy for you. I’ll tell you what I want and you just tell me if you like that or not. Okay?”

You nodded.

“First I want to touch you, under your panties. Get my fingers nice and wet, finger you a little. Then I want to taste it. Lick you up and down, make you feel good. Then I want to take you to my bed and have loud sex with you so everyone can hear how good I’m making you feel, how good you’re making me feel. Sound good?”

A cracked moan fell from your lips as you nodded, “Yeah. I like that.”

Harry’s grin widened as he let go of your face and brought both hands down to your panties, “Good. Then let’s get rid of these.”

You felt the wetness on the fabric as they were moved down your legs and then Harry’s fingers were running through your labia up and down. His eyes focused on your bare pussy.

When he pressed over your clit he watched your face and hissed when he saw your brows scrunch up and your lips part, “Right there, yeah? You like that?”

You nodded with your bottom lip bit into your mouth, looking from his face to where his thumb was pressed.

He used his free hand to push at your thigh as he continued stroking his fingers up and down, glazing his digits in your arousal before you felt him press at your entrance slowly.

“Open up for me, cherry… there we go, sweet girl. Fuck me…” he watched as he pressed two fingers inside slowly, your pussy wet and puffy. “So pretty. Look at tha’” he watched his fingers slide in and out and back in to his knuckles with the gushy sound of your pussy being fucked by his fingers.

“Oh god…” you breathed out your words when he put his thumb back over your clit and began to press and circle as he continued pressing his fingers through your walls.

And the way he fingered you was only making you more wet, making you feel desperate. You moaned and ran your hands up your tummy to your tits, as you watched Harry’s arms flex as he fucked his fingers into you and stroked your front wall.

“Fuck that smells so good, cherry,” he kept his eyes on your cunt as he lowered himself down, “Gotta have some of this.”

It couldn’t have gotten any better than it was. Harry’s fingers already felt better than they should’ve but it did, in fact, get better. Because his big mouth and wide tongue on your clit had you unable to think straight as you let out a whine.

He kept his long fingers inside of you as he focused his lips and tongue on your clit. He could have taught a masterclass on cunnilingus. Even your toy didn’t feel like this. And it was a really good toy.

“Oh fuck!” You cried when he sucked your clit gently, using his tongue to press as he did so. The sound was lewd with his mouth on your pussy and his fingers tucked deep inside of you.

You’d need to bring him with you everywhere if this was how he did it. That toy was not going to cut it now that you’d felt how good it could really be.

When you’d finally lifted your head to look down at him you saw his eyes already opened, looking up at you as he swiped his tongue over your button, pink lips winding over your pussylips and up to your clit.

He let go of your thigh as he reached up for one of your hands and pushed his fingers between yours. You clung to his hand tight and gasped.

The gesture was so intimate, so sexy. It felt like everything he was doing was truly to make you feel good. He wasn’t rushing to get you off. The care and attention he gave you made you feel hot and shaky.

You couldn’t take your eyes off his as he worked your pussy and you began to shake.

You were putty in his hands. Totally unable to stop the unwinding of the tight coil in your tummy as you squeezed his hand and he moaned into your cunt.

And it happened so fast. The snap of your orgasm seemed to even shock Harry as his eyes widened when you began to come in his mouth.

He kept his mouth on you and his fingers inside of you as you cried out and threw your head back. He didn’t let go of your hand, keeping you grounded as every other part of you liquified and then evaporated into the atmosphere. The only parts of your body that remained intact, throbbing, and aching were your pussy and your hand. Only the parts he touched were whole. Everything else was hot liquid soaked into the couch.

Your chest heaved and your brain was fuzzy as he finally pulled his fingers from your hole and looked down at you, “Did you come?” The grin on his face told you he was being playful.

You laughed as you watched him wipe the edge of his mouth with his thumb and lick the mess up, his eyes on you.

And just like he said he wanted to do, he took you to his bed. He helped you up onto your wobbly legs and then kissed your lips, smearing your arousal all over your mouth. The kiss did nothing to make your legs feel solid but rather made you feel even weaker. So his assistance was very much needed to put you into his bed.

His room was lit with a lamp and his sheets felt clean as he pulled the blankets back for you and tucked a pillow under your head.

You watched him take his underwear off and then pull a condom from his drawer before he climbed onto the bed next to you, “Still want more?” He raised his brows at you in question.

You nodded and smiled, “Yeah. I do.” You couldn’t take your eyes off his cock, though. You absolutely wanted more. You wanted the whole shebang and if there was anything you knew about Harry it was that he could provide exactly that.

He grinned at you as he tore the wrapper and gripped himself at the tip, stroking down to coat himself in the bit of precome that had leaked from his slit before putting the condom over his impossibly hard cock. His entire cock was thick. From tip to base. It looked… heavy. It looked like it was going to tear you in half.

Harry watched as you ogled him. He didn’t mind. He was pretty proud of it himself. As he pushed himself up to his knees he pulled your legs apart and settled between your thighs.

He pushed his hips in close to yours and let his cock fall over your pelvis and up to your low tummy, measuring his size in comparison to you. You looked down from where his daunting cock lay heavy over you up to his face.

“I want it…” you breathed your words and Harry’s dimples smiled as he smirked at you.

“Oh, yeah? Want my cock inside your pussy, Cherry? Wanna feel it all the way up here?” He pressed over your low tummy and you moaned loudly.

Harry moved his hips back and then gripped his base as he dragged his cock through your drenched pussy, “Want me to fuck this soft pussy, slip in and out until you can’t handle it anymore?”

You nodded, “Please…”

“Please? How sweet. You are a sweet girl, aren’t you? I like sweet girls, Cherry, and you might be the sweetest one yet.”

Harry teased your pussy some more, his cockhead smoothing up and down, pushing your arousal up to your clit until you began to squirm under him and let out a small whimper.

He laughed as he finally stopped torturing you and pressed his thick crown to your entrance, pressing his bulbous crown to your entrance before he began to push through your tight, wet ring.

You gasped when you felt him entering you, slowly pushing your insides apart until he was tucked deep inside of you. He let out a deep breath when he finally had the luxury of feeling your hot pussy wrapped around him.

He thrust in again, bottoming out until his balls pressed against your ass. And again. And again.

He worked you open until he was satisfied that you were ready for more and then he leaned over you, his hands down next to your shoulders with his eyes on you, and began sinking into you so deep you thought you saw stars limning your vision.

“Your pussy feels just as good as it tastes, Cherry,” he moaned before he began to rock into you with more force, and you could hear the sound of his body smacking into yours each time he plunged in.

“Umph…” you grunted when he dipped in sharp.

“Yeah? Deep isn’t it? Pussy needed stuffed properly. Hm?”

Your body was being pounded into and there were no words that could form on your lips as your tits jolted up and down.

“Let me hear you, Cherry. Let me hear how good it feels. I can tell your pussy loves this, so wet and puffy for me…” his voice was shaky as he railed into you, “Am I treating you right, baby?”

You coughed out a moan and nodded your head as you held on to his forearms, “God! Fuck yes, Harry! Oh fuck!”

Harry’s own moan was loud as he watched your face twist up and listened to the way your pussy took his big cock.

“Yeah? Fuck that feels good, doesn’t it? Pretty thing was made to be fucked. Pussy so sweet needs to have her insides split open every day. Hm?” Harry was breathing hard between words.

“Oh my god… yes. Yes!”

Harry sat back onto his haunches and pulled you up so you were sitting on his lap as he spread his thighs for leverage to continue fucking into you. You yelped at the change of position and how deep he felt inside.

The new angle had his tip slamming into your guts and you grabbed onto his strong shoulders while his hands held your ass, guiding you over him.

Your body flopped up and down on his cock and against his pelvis as he sunk into you over and over again, his hips hammering up into yours.

You began to roll your hips down, smushing your button against him for friction as he continued thrusting upward.

When you finally let out a choked moan Harry gasped and pulled you in by the back of your neck to kiss your mouth. Soft licks against your tongue as your pussy was getting fucked into, had you beginning to shake and fall off the edge of the earth again.

Harry parted from the kiss and held you down on his lap, keeping his dick nudged against your cervix, “Already, Cherry?” He gently rolled upward, “Gonna come on my cock so soon? Can you hold off for a bit longer?”

You sucked in a sharp breath, “Yes. Sorry.”

“Shh… shh… Nothing to be sorry about. Means you like it,” he rutted up into you with a grin before laying you down to your back again, pushing your legs apart.

He began to push into you, his hips slamming against yours making his bed creak and your pussy clench around him. You didn’t know if you could hang on much longer as your thighs began to quiver. His cock was coaxing another orgasm from your body without you even focusing on it, which you normally had to do when you had sex. It was as if you had no say in whether your body should come or not.

“Shit!” He slowed his motions a little and leaned over you to brush his fingers along your cheekbone, “Are you okay?” He laughed as he asked.

You nodded, “I’m gonna come, Harry. I’m sorry I can’t stop it. If you fuck me like that…” Your rounded eyes and heavy breaths had Harry’s heart feverishly pounding.

“It’s okay. You’re not doing anything wrong, Cherry. You just needed a good fucking didn’t you?”

You nodded and pulled your lips into your mouth.

“Yeah. That’s good, then. We’ll give you a nice good fucking,” he slowly pulled out to his tip and languidly moved himself back in making you moan.

“We can go nice and slow,” he repeated his motions, his thighs flexing as he held himself steady to fuck into you in long strokes, “Getting you all creamy. Hear it, Cherry?”

You did hear it as you nodded with a whine. The wetness coming from your pussy. The way his cock fucked your cream into your cunt. The way it sounded when he buried himself into the hilt and ground his hips against yours.

Harry watched your face scrunch up and your moans grow louder as he pushed his way into your tummy until he knew you couldn’t hold on any longer.

He sat back and fucked into you faster as he pressed his hand over your tummy, putting pressure on the spot where his cock was sliding through your insides and you lost it. You cried out his name and gurgles of nonsense as the frame of the bed began to rock into the wall and Harry coughed out a laugh at the way you began to thrash around on his cock.

He watched as he rutted into you, his cock disappearing into your cunt, your slick arousal all over his base and in his pubic hair.

You clamped down on him with your legs wobbly and he felt your walls contracting, squeezing his cock tight. He snapped his hips forward, pressing through your spasming cunt as his balls slapped into your ass and he moaned with you.

“Fuck! There you go, honey! Coming on my cock, yeah? Oh shit…” he watched your body press up each time he slammed into you, your face in ecstasy, and your wet pussy swallowing him whole as he finally began to come, releasing into his condom with a groan, “Draining my cock, cherry. Ohhh, ffff…”

Harry punched through your slick opening with the thick crown of his cock as he gushed into the rubber surrounding his dick until he stilled his hips and ground into you, swiveling in circles to empty every drop of himself.

You could feel him pumping inside of you, the heavy throbbing in his dick as he unloaded his sperm.

You both gasped when you’d finished and he lowered himself to kiss you hard. His hands cradled your face as his sensitive dick twitched inside of you.

Lifting your knees you wrapped your legs around his low back and he brought you down to your side, leaving you both connected fully, still kissing, his cock still deep inside of you.

The wave of euphoria that covered your entire being had you feeling so relaxed and so at peace you sighed and pushed your fingers into his hair.

You were surprised by your reaction to how he fucked you. And you wished you could have gone longer but he was so good, or… you didn’t know what it was exactly.

Harry parted from the kiss, keeping his face close to yours, “Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer if you’re not comfortable with it.”

You nodded, “Yeah.”

“How long has it been since you’ve had sex? I don’t mean masturbating either. Just curious.”

You squinted and looked toward the corner of the room before putting your eyes back on his, “Like, maybe a year? Something like that.”

Harry’s thumb grazed your cheek, “A year? So that means when you were living with K at that time you hadn’t had sex since before that even.”

You grinned and nodded, “I was in university. It was my senior year and I was super focused. And it just didn’t happen.”

“Poor thing. No wonder you were so sensitive to me. Came so fast, Cherry.”

You laughed, “I know. It’s never been like that before. Surprised me too.”

“I’m glad we met again. Feels like we should honor the universe and stick together for a while. Stay the night with me?”

You puffed out a laugh and rolled your eyes, “Let’s honor the universe. Obviously, she wants us to have sex and hang out.”

Harry watched your eyes crinkle up as you grinned and he chuckled, “She really does. I’m sure of it. So that’s a yes?”

You scratched your nails along the back of Harry’s head and smiled at him, “It’s definitely a yes.”

. .

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[theorist-fox]

Good Luck

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Crossposted on AO3.

Part 1 >> Part 2 >> Part 3 >> Part 4 >> Part 5

Word count: 5.2k

Summary: There’s only so much you can endure for love. Simon’s avoidance takes him one step too far, and this time, there’s no turning back.

18+

CW: angst, arguments, canon typical violence (GSW, surgery, medical talk), a drop of smut.

I listened to this song while writing!

Masterlist 🦊 | Series Masterlist 🦊

The treadmill runs underfoot when it shouldn't. 

You shouldn't be here—when the lights in the base are off, and curfew has clocked in. Not when your side is still aching, and your injury is still mending.

One would think that after ages in the special forces, you'd get used to gunshot wounds. 

Truth is—you never do. It's always the same burning pain that makes you piss yourself and throw up your guts. How you survived is still a big, fat question mark—sniper rifles are made to kill, not to neutralize. If that bullet had hit a little higher, you'd be six feet underground, not doing some cardio in the HQ gym.

Even now, two months after the incident, the stabbing ache in your gut still lingers. Granted, it's not fully healed, so any pain you feel is your fault. But sitting idly, twiddling your thumbs, feels far too passive for you. So, you decide to resort to the simplest training—cardio, light weightlifting—anything that might help the rage simmering in your chest subside.

Because yes—the worst thing festering in your guts, right in the broken sinews and ripped flesh, isn't the mending hole of a .308 round, but a growing anger that's making it hard for your limbs to sit still.

And it's that anger that's slowing down the healing process, it must be. 

You're running—not too fast. No headphones on, because you want to hear your breath panting and your feet thudding against the moving treadmill. You want to taste copper down your throat. 

Overexertion. Salivating tongue. The wonderful ache of sore muscles. 

Alive, strong, fast, reliable.

A friendly reminder that even though there is someone else occupying your spot in the team, you're still as fan-fucking-tastic as ever.

A friendly reminder that their role is only temporary. That when you're back on your feet, you're going to be the fifth member of that task force again. 

Breakfasts with Soap, early morning runs with Gaz, cigars in the evening with Price.

Ghost, on the other hand, can go and fuck himself. Hard. 

You don't blame him, really. Or, well, maybe a little. A smidge. 

Because that's just who he is. You can't blame someone for being who they are—and what he is, is a bastard. 

You should've known the moment you met him, the second he introduced himself as Ghost instead of Simon Riley, all those years back.

Instead of giving in, instead of acting kind, caring, and giving him your time—instead, instead, instead—you should've bit the same way he bit you. Ravaged you. Gave you hot and cold, push and pull, sunk his teeth until the bone, until you were nothing more than a rag doll in the maws of a rabid dog.

Surely, you couldn't have expected him to visit.

You couldn't have expected him to knock on your hospital room door, cuppa in hand, and have him give you his precious, precious time.

What you should've done was expect him to treat you in person like he treats you in bed. 

A whore: warm enough to fit his cock in, wet enough to stroke his ego. You being out of commission for anything remotely related to sex meant you being out of his life—plain and simple. 

A hard pill to swallow, but a true one.

And so, you run. 

You run and stare deadly holes into the wall in front of you. 

You run and ignore how the forming scar on your side tightens at each movement. 

You run and try your damned hardest to focus on yourself: on your body feeling alive even when unhooked from cables and machines, on the fog in your brain finally dissipating, on your chest filling and relaxing even without oxygen pumped in your nose.

Ten minutes turn into twenty, until you can feel your thighs chafe and your calves cramp, but still you push through. Because the alternative, the only other thing that would make your stomach finally loosen, would be to have that bastard within reach. Punch him until he hurts like you did.

Alas, God seems to have heard, for the next thing you know, is that Simon is standing, jaded as always, at the threshold of the gym to your left.

As soon as you spot him in your periphery, you punch the big red button on the treadmill. Your run slows to a walk before you stop completely and get down. 

You don't even look at him as you collect your water bottle from the floor, grunting softly when your injury folds and aches.

You don't even lift your head when you reply with a caustic, "Look what the cat dragged in."

He snorts. How dare he.

"See you got your wit back."

It's been two months since you last heard his voice. 

When you got shot and blacked out, the last thing you registered was his voice roaring over comms—but judging by the distant behaviour he assumed right afterwards, the complete absence during your hospitalization, you convinced yourself that the anguished cry of your name you've heard was imagined altogether.

One last attempt of your brain to find some comfort in the pain.

However, a treacherous shiver still runs down your spine when he speaks. The thickness of his voice, the rasp that scratches a nice spot in your brain. 

You shake your shoulders to get rid of it.

It's only then that you clock his form with your eyes. You tongue your cheek.

"Never left," you say, uncapping your water bottle. "Not that you'd know anyway, mh?"

As you drink, the balaclava shifts at his jaw as if he's running his tongue over his teeth. Thinking which approach to take—tactical and measured or absolutely ballistic and corrosive.

"You shouldn't be 'ere." He drawls with that grating tone that makes you believe he knows something more than you do.

Measured it is.

"Got cleared."

"Doc said otherwise."

"As obsessed as ever, uh?"

How his eyes sharpen tells you you've cut deeper than any razor blade could. A smug smile blooms on your cheeks because small things feel like huge victories when there are too many losses to count.

"You're under my command." He says bluntly, "Had to keep myself updated."

"Normal people would ask."

He tilts his head. "M'sure you gathered I'm anything but."

"Right," you say with a wry grin. "What was the doctor's diagnosis, then?"

"Lucky your liver got out of it intact," he replies, "Exit wound clear, no fragments. Minimal internal dam—"

"Oh no, I know that." You cut in, sickly sweet, like poison more than honey. "I meant yours."

His eyes darken, with a warning glint that should be enough to pierce through your resolve—shame for him that you're bulletproof and sharp like a knife. You don't care if it'll hurt—let it. After all, there is little left to lose, and you're sure that whatever is left will soon be lost.

"Abandonment issues? Does it stem from your childhood? Are you projecting something on me, Simon?"

"Sergeant," he says, lower than a growl. 

"What?" You snap, tongue riddled with bitterness. "Isn't that what's happening? Takin' my life apart 'cause you couldn't sort out yours?"

Simon rolls his shoulders and straightens his neck. He often does it when he wants to appear taller, broader, scarier—though you know better.

And right now, he's just as tense as you are. 

Both of you are teetering on the edge, walking a fine line that could lead to resolution, but you're afraid it won't. Not this time.

Each step he takes bends the thin rope under his weight. You wobble—precarious, afraid, a gust of wind is all it would take for you to fall and lose it all in one breath: the earned, mutual trust, the fragile love—no matter how disjointed and uncertain at times.

Reluctantly, you know that it has been tender, too.

"I'd watch my tongue if I were you,” he says. A measured threat.

Your eyes are sharp, and you don't dare to breathe. The space between your faces is tense—a ticking time bomb, something preceding destruction.

"And I'd stay the fuck back." You scowl. "If I were you."

There's a sneer painting his face; you're sure of it, even if it's out of sight. Something heavy and dark, hidden under fabric. 

"Aye, I have," he says at length. "For two months. But looks like you didn't enjoy that much, did ya now?"

Your brows fly to your forehead. Utter disbelief at the sheer audacity of him. Apparently, today isn't one of those days in which you can take what you dish out. 

Fuck it, you'll live.

"You think this is funny?" You scowl, cocking your head.

You watch his jaw shift, perhaps trying to reply, but you don't give him time. He's had plenty of it and wasted it all.

"You think it's alright, what you did?"

Your teeth grit until your head hurts. 

"Not even a knock, Simon." Your voice rises in volume and anger alike. "Two months. Not a call, a text, a wordpassed through Johnny."

Your chest grows tight, and those vines climb upward, closing in on your throat and head all the same. The pressure in your skull threatens tears.

You'd rather get shot again than cry now, of all times.

You thought he'd carved a path specifically for you. Instead, he was only covering your eyes in gentle kisses and cottoning your ears with sweet words—perhaps some remorse, if he could feel it at all. Treated you like a hungry dog, throwing a bone so you'd turn into a more docile pup, whimpering and asking for pets.

And still, you kept clinging with your fingernails to the scraps of tenderness he offered, even when unsure of their authenticity.

There is no trace of that naivete now embedded in your eyes. You're as hard as he's portraying himself to be.

Simon now studies the switch. He must see the sadness in there, even if it's buried under a thick layer of anger and spite. 

"Figured I'd leave ya to it," he says at last, pressing his thumb between his brows—a subtle gesture betraying his calm facade. "Give ya time to recover."

What a poor fucking excuse.

Oh, you want to make him hurt like he did you. 

Make him feel two months' worth of staring at the plain white door of the hospital room, waiting for it to open. Waiting to see him duck under the doorframe, holding a pack of Marlboros in his hand. 

Make a joke about smoking in hospital rooms and how irresponsible that would be, how insensitive, only for him to tinker with the smoke alarm and turn the orange butt of a ciggie your way. 

Bring you tea. The book you still haven't finished. Tell you about his day. 

More than sixty days spent pining, waiting, hoping like a helpless lunatic, with Johnny's pitying blues glued on the lines between your brows.

"Oh, spare me." You scoff. "At least have the decency to do that much."

His eyes narrow. You inhale, challenging him with your glare.

Fuck, he doesn't have to love you—to even like you—if that's the barrier he wants to put up.

But basic human decency doesn't seem much to demand. Especially knowing that you were so much more before this ordeal began. You were a colleague, a friend. A shag here and there doesn't cancel that. How can occasional sex erase years and years of carefully built partnerships, in and out of work?

How can he so easily change his view of you just because you parted your legs for him?

It hurts when you realize it. When it hits you right in the head like that bullet pierced your side. That you're done giving him excuses, that you're done giving him time.

That it's now or never again.

It escapes your mouth like something strangled, fighting its way out with elbows and fists. Thrashing through your throat, guided by better judgment and self-preservation, even as your heart begs for a moment more. 

"You know this doesn't work, right?" You gesture in the space between you two. "You and I."

That seems to be what wakes him. His eyes look alarmed, even if only for a moment, and it's a flash so brief you're not even sure it happened at all.

"We talked 'bout—"

"Oh, shut the fuck up." You cut in, exasperation showing in the way your voice rises. 

He jolts. Freezes.

You sigh a shaky breath. Your body burns hot, like the feelings brewing at the bottom of a much too-deep pot are finally spilling out. Skin lighting up, all too aware of everything, from the blood rushing to your cheeks to the throbbing ache of your healing wound.

"Yeah, we had that chat—no feelings, no strings attached, or whatever rubbish you tell yourself to sleep at night."

Your heart feels heavier, like someone's poured cement over it, and it's about to be tossed into deep waters.

"Doesn't mean you've got the right to treat me like this." You say in a single breath. "Like I'm not even a person. Like I don't matter unless I'm naked."

Something in him hardens like he's looking at you through his scope: squinting his eyes, steeling his shoulders. You struck a raw nerve, casting him in a light that even he wouldn't dare to face, self-critical as he may be.

Or you're just describing what you see. What he's shown you. Given you. Not who he is.

But how are you supposed to know that? Discern the mask from the man when he guards the latter so viciously.

"I'm not just someone you fuck," you say through gritted teeth. "I'm a person. I'm your sergeant—I'm your friend. I deserve your respect."

You slam a finger to his chest. The impact is not as strong as it is shocking.

Simon stumbles back.

"I had your back long before we started fucking, and when I get shot, you don't even bother knocking?" You exclaim. "You hear how fucked up that is? And you think I'll let it slide without consequences?"

You retreat your hand, trembling like a leaf. It falls at your side limply, surrendered as you are.

"You don't know me if you think that."

You gulp down something heavy stuck in your throat, but your voice remains abrasive and sharp.

"And I don't know why I ever thought otherwise."

You step back, holding his eyes a moment more—daring to bite back at your words. Daring to fabricate an excuse.

But you don't waste energy to gauge his thoughts this time. You have tried—so strenuously— to discover Simon Riley, but there are walls too thick to climb, gates too rusted and too old to be opened.

And, for once, you forgive yourself for having failed.

Simon stands stock still under the yellow lights of the gym, hands curled into fists at his sides, fighting an invisible enemy. A statue of a man, stone cold and so awfully far, far away.

You walk past him, water bottle clutched in your hand so tight you think your knuckles might snap.

The doorway's left behind you. Your steps quicken the farther you get from the gym, watching the light from the door give way to the darkness of a sleeping headquarters. 

You don't hear his steps, and you're unsure whether he's following. Hard to tell—the man's a ghost in more ways than just his name. Silent and prudent even when wrapped in tac gear up to his head.

When you reach your room, you think you're safe from further arguments. No more raising your voice, no more putting your heart through the meat grinder. It's gone and done, and you only want to get in your bed and not think about it until you wake up tomorrow. 

Still, your hands shake. You test for your keys in the tight pocket of your leggings and curse under your breath when you pluck them out and they fall from between your fingers.

When you're about to bend down, cussing further because your side still aches, a hand steals them from your sight. You follow the tattoos up to the face of the owner, even if you don't have to do so to recognize him.

He's not wearing the mask anymore. He has it tucked in a pocket of his jeans; you see the dark cloth peeking from the light blue. His shoulders are slouched, hair tousled and messy, likely due to his fingers running through it. Pale cheeks and sunken eyes, darker underneath, like he hasn't caught a wink in a while. 

A certain sadness in them, too. But that might be what your eyes want you to see—rationally, you would put all that much, much past him.

"Careful," he murmurs, handing the keys back to you.

You snatch them from his hands and practically punch them into the keyhole.

"Sarge—"

"No."

He calls your name.

"No."

You slam the door behind you once you're inside, but you don't hear the closing thud. When you look over your shoulder, you find him holding it open. Without further questions or waiting for you to rebut, he steps inside. 

You glower to deter him. It's useless.

Simon closes the door behind him and leans against it. His hand effortlessly finds the switch at the entrance and flicks it on. 

As you blink to adjust to the sudden light, your eyes naturally focus on him: a mountain of a man clad in onyx with the pale cream backdrop of your door. 

"Out," you bark.

He looks at you with eyes so horribly tired. Exhausted. Upset.

"Fuck's sake, jus' listen."

And his voice is not so different.

Then, there's nothing you can do. 

Those boots have been here without your frank permission more times than you can count. You're aware of the impossibility of redirecting them outside. 

You scowl, fingers tightening around the water bottle in your hand because his nerve could bloody well be the last straw.

But still—

You nod. Jaw locked tight.

"Make it quick."

He spares not a second more.

"Day o' the surgery, after they cut you open," he says. "I came."

He points at his neck. 

"Had a tube shoved down your throat, a thing around your chin to keep ya mouth open."

Then, to his face. 

"Beaten black an' blue, you were—swollen an' all. Reckon it was probably the fall after the shot—dunno, couldn't fuckin' think when I saw ya like that."

He licks his lips. Bows his head as if the floor might lend him the strength he needs to pull himself together.

He looks up again. Dark eyes tender unlike anything you've ever seen, and yet one corner of his mouth is downturned, like he's about to say something he's very disappointed with.

Your body is gelatin. Flaccid. Cotton ears, foggy sight, clammy palms. 

"You looked dead," he swallows something thick. "And I wished you were."

Your bottle slips from your hands and falls to the floor. A metallic thud. Water sloshes back and forth as it rolls on the linoleum until it stills.

Suddenly, you feel like a kid who's looking for her ma. 

There's a sadness so deep and suffocating you can't quite explain it if not by digging up childhood memories—a sense of loss, of being small and helpless and alone.

You fought tears all this time, and now it feels fruitless even to try. It's written all over your face anyway. 

You taste their salt before you feel your eyes swell with them.

"Fuck. You." You tell him, voice hoarse but no less spiteful.

"Wished you were dead—"

He walks to you.

"You're disgusting—"

"Because—"

Closer.

"Don't want to see your fucking face again—"

"I didn't know wha' to do."

Until he stands with his boots bumping your trainers. Until the cold wall touches the sweat on your back.

He holds your face in his hands.

You pull back. He doesn't let go.

"'Cause I don't know, love—" He breathes tenderly, like his voice is not his, while your nails claw at his wrist so he lets go.

He doesn't.

"I don't know how to mourn the livin'," he says, "Only the dead."

He gulps. You fall still.

"You said ya wouldn't put me through that again, but you did," he croaks. "Made it worse this time. I couldn't take it."

He thumbs your tears.

"Would've been easier f'me to bury ya with the others an' let the guilt finish me off."

Simon leans in until his lips brush your forehead. When he realizes you won't fight back anymore, his hands slide to your shoulders, then down your arms.

Gingerly, his fingers twine with yours. He doesn't tighten his hold; he merely tests the thin skin of your knuckles.

You pull back a step, burning eyes drifting up at him through the tears clumping your lashes. Truthfully, you weren't expecting him to cry with you. You don't think Simon can—maybe he's already shed one too many tears.

But his cheeks are glowing red. His eyelids are heavy, eyes cast down to you. He's just as affected as you are, but he shows it differently in those subtle ways you've learned to read.

After fighting the tremble of your lips, you steady yourself. Fingers warm within his own; you don't pull them away. 

"I don't deserve what you did to me."

Your voice is so tight you hate yourself for it, but if you don't speak your mind now, you're afraid you never will.

He shakes his head slowly, never straying from your eyes. 

"You don't."

Leaning down slowly, giving you ample time to move away if you wish, Simon kisses your shoulder. 

You sigh.

"Don't deserve a ton o' the shite I put ya through," he whispers.

His ear is right next to your lips. You're sure that no matter how much you try to control yourself, he'll quickly gather your feelings by the way your pulse thunders beneath his kiss.

So why hide it at all?

"And yet you never apologized for a single one of them."

Simon gulps. A subtle sound, as subtle as the man who made it. 

He pulls back. Smooths back your hair, sliding a hand from your forehead to your scalp. 

You lean into his touch, exhaling a breath that trembles like your hands.

"Never did, did I." He breathes. 

He leans in and presses a kiss between your brows, then down the bridge of your nose, to your cheek, the corner of your mouth. You close your eyes so he can navigate this new level of intimacy he's never initiated nor shown at all.

And then he captures your lips. 

His shoulders soften.

A long, drawn-out sigh from his nose. 

He pushes forward, forcing the back of your head against the wall. His hands travel to your stomach, hesitant and curious. He skims over the thicker patch of fabric, where the surgery scar is mending under soft, fresh bandages. 

A slight hiss in your breath because it still feels sore to the touch is what makes Simon pull back. Just enough to have the tips of your noses graze.

Suddenly, he kneels at your feet. 

Big hands envelop your waist, touch gentle but still present enough to rip the air out of your lungs. His thumb brushes over the bandage, causing you to shift uncomfortably.

You look down. Your eyes touch.

The silence around you cracks when he speaks, softness in his breath.

"M'sorry."

Chest tight and sore, like he just punched it. 

He keeps his eyes on you, not to study your expression but to convey his own. The earnestness you catch in there ripples through you like a shockwave ready to shatter you whole.

He leans in and buries his nose right above your belly button, in the rougher fabric of your shirt.

His thumbs hook at the hem, lifting it up so that his face meets your stomach.

"Tell me to fuck off, an' I will," he whispers to your skin. "Know I deserve it."

He kisses your belly, carefully navigating around your bandaged injury. 

"But fuck," he sighs. "I hope you don't."

His lips travel lower, where the waistband of your legging cinches your hips. His kisses turn open but unhurried, like he just wants to savour what he's denied himself for too long.

You roll your lips between your teeth, unsure of how to behave.

"Fuckin' hope you don't," he murmurs.

Your hands land on his head, then, hesitant and trembling, fingers threaded through his hair. Simon sighs like you took the weight off his shoulders and got rid of it entirely.

His fingers curl at the hem of your leggings. 

Slowly, he rolls them down, and he follows their trail, drawing his tongue and his lips down your thighs to your knee. His hand slips to your shoe, and he helps you take it off. Then to the other. Your socks, your pants, until your legs are bare, fabric tossed aside in a heap on the floor.

Simon never stands up.

He holds you by your hips with a covetous grip, but still soft enough to not hurt, almost mimicking the way his mouth moves over you: with smothered hunger, with gentle greed, one that feels somehow oppositely selfless.

Like he's doing it because it feels good for you and not because he desires to have it.

Simon's nose dips in the crease of your thighs. A kiss there, one to the seam of your labia, one on your mound.

His eyes flicker to you.

The lights in your room are a soft yellow, casting a gentle glow on his kneeling body that feels somewhat wrong, like there's too much being shown under the sun when only the two of you should witness it.

Gingerly, you slide your hand along the wall until you find the bump of the switch. With a flick of your finger, the lights go off.

The room is pitch dark now. Moonlight laps at the lines of Simon's face like it's trying to make him glow despite how dim everything around him is. 

It takes a while to adjust to the darkness, but you finally see him when you do. The downturn of his eyes, the telltale signs of sleepless nights, wrinkles of exhaustion and endless battles fought within himself.

Utter, devastating regret. 

You wonder if he can spot the heaviness in your eyes. The uncertainty, the fear of falling right back into the cycle, a trap of yours and his making. 

He's going to tell you the nicest things, pull you in until you can only stick to him like glue, and then he's going to vanish from your life. Treat you like you're strangers until you'll somehow find yourself wrapped around his finger again.

And then it'll all start over. Again, and again, and again.

You brush your thumb on his temple.

Simon leans into it like a dog starving for attention.

He hooks his fingers at the thin straps hugging your hipbones. Slowly pulls your knickers down to your ankles as he holds your eyes.

Gently, he coaxes your knee to bend, lifting your leg off the floor. He kisses the side of your foot, your calf and upward, until your knee is draped over his shoulder. 

Slowly, his nose nudges your clit. The muscles in your thighs twitch.

You're not wet; you're not aroused. He isn't either, you can tell. Otherwise, you'd have had his face buried between your legs hours ago.

The tip of his tongue draws a stroke there. Like waves, it reaches the base of your skull. Tips you off balance, almost. Makes your head spin.

Another tentative lick. The tender fingers in his hair turn into claws, and you grip it tighter. 

Another, another, until you're breathless and inevitably dripping. Simon collects it with his fingers, drawing circles at your entrance.

The flat of his tongue meets your clit in a tortuously slow dance, holding you still with an arm encircling your thigh. And then his finger slides in. You're forced to bite your cheek, muffling a moan that only manages to break free as a sigh.

But when you look down, even in the darkness, you see his eyes, glossy and charged. But still so very tired. 

Like yours.

Because maybe he's navigating through this exactly like you, and you hadn't considered it—too absorbed in your own heartache to notice his. And maybe he's even more afraid because when you have nothing to lose, and something's suddenly given to you, you don't know how to behave.

And maybe Simon thinks that doing this is the only way to keep you.

You exchange a look that holds more pain than lust, shaking your head at him so, so softly it’s almost imperceptible. And Simon sighs, surrendered—he takes back his hand, his tongue, and sits back on his heels.

Carefully, you unhook your knee from his shoulder. He doesn't put up a fight, doesn't tighten the hold on your leg. Instead, he drops his arm limp on his thigh. 

You slide down the wall behind you until your knees bump against his. Simon's fingers reach out, almost shy, and trace mindless patterns on your skin. 

He's hunched over, head bowed in what you venture might be shame, or perhaps that grief he said he doesn't know how to carry. 

Your hand touches his cheek. Dark eyes look at you through paler lashes with reluctant understanding.

That it's over, isn't it?

"Doesn't feel right anymore, does it?" You offer gently.

His chest swells. Shoulders taut and suddenly straight, like something's hit his spine and forced it upright. 

He tongues his cheek. Looks away.

"Don't think so, no."

Your lips quiver. It's okay, it was bound to happen. 

It should've happened so long ago. You should've taken the leap and pulled away from him much, much earlier—when your heart wasn't woven to his yet.

"Maybe one day," you say in the darkness, thumb brushing his cheekbone. "When we're not so…"

With your free hand, you gesture at yourselves. 

"…Fucked." You finish with a hint of a breathy laugh in between. 

Simon huffs too, and then deflates.

It's long before his hand comes to cup yours on his cheek. He keeps it there momentarily, while finally giving you the privilege of meeting your eyes.

And he looks so tender, even when he gently brings your hand down, away from his face. He holds it as it lands on his knees.

"Eloquent." He remarks.

You scoff. Roll your eyes with a pathetic sniffle. "Obviously."

He shakes his head softly. A big hand reaches up, and he flicks your nose. You scrunch it up, smiling in a way that doesn't feel forced for the first time since you met tonight.

Simon's thumb brushes your knuckles.

"One day," he repeats. "When we're not fucked."

Your smile feels wet and shaky. Tears are staining your cheek, but it's freeing instead of reluctant, this time.

His eyes are gentle, allowing you to peek through the curtain for the first time. Perhaps it's too dark now to see, but you're hopeful one day you will.

"Good luck to us, then." You say softly.

Simon breathes a chuckle. Brings your knuckles to his lips and holds your hand there.

"Good luck, love."

Biggest thanks to @/void-my-warranty for helping me out, you're a gem 🧡

[lvnacore]

Want you so bad

- Separate stray kids x fem idol reader | Hyung line maknae line coming soon (I got sick so I don’t have motivation at the moment. Also sorry that it’s short😔)

-`♡´- In which your group has a comeback on you and your boyfriend’s anniversary. The title song is a song you wrote and produced for him as an anniversary gift.

Warnings?: just fluff and hyunjin being a drama queen lol

BANG CHAN “you stole my heart, I need your love”

When he finds out, he's literally all smiles and giggles

Let's pretend he still does chan’s room. He'll literally play the song every time he's live saying that it's his favorite song

Everytime he's feeling insecure about himself or stressed he'll play the demo version of the song (the one with only your voice). It makes him feel better at night

If you are promoting at the same time, he makes sure he watches ur performance on the tv in their waiting room. Always smiling when you appear on screen

Will literally not shut up about it. He’s a very proud boyfriend

He plans on doing the same next year. Already having a folder full of songs about you in his laptop

“Baby this is the best gift I could ask for. Thank you so much”

MINHO “Gotta get my love tattoed over your heart”

When he found out he couldn’t help but smile like a little kid

Makes sure to watch the music video with his cats

“Soonie, Doongie, Dori isn’t your mom such a cutie”

I am a firm believer that he will learn the full choreography so you guys can dance to it together. Maybe even create a different choreography just for the two of you

Will listen to it everyday before practice, rehearsal, and preforming. It gives him motivation

If you are performing the song at an award show and stray kids are there, he tries to keep his serious face on, but when your part comes on he can’t help but smile. (stays definitely caught it on camera)

“Your that in love with me huh?” He would say this with the smuggest face

CHANGBIN “Keep me by your side and I’ll never go away”

You already know he’s gonna ask to do the dance challenge with you

The happiest boyfriend in the world

When he goes to the gym he’ll listen to it on repeat

Like Chan, he has a whole folder of songs about you on his laptop that he plans to gift you later in the future

When you guys are alone away from the public view, he will literally not let you go. Gives you his famous hugs and thanks you for the song, saying how much he loves it and how much he loves you

He makes sure to watch all the music show performances and sends you messages of how well you did and how pretty you look

“Thank you baby, and I love the song so much, and I love you”

HYUNJIN “I know you'll treat me like a baby but I don’t mind. I'll be your baby”

Omg don’t get me started. When he finds out he’s so dramatic about it

Literally crying while watching the music video, commenting about how beautiful you look and how proud he is

He’ll give you so much kisses it’s insane

If your relationship is public he will spam all about it on bubble to the point where stays tease him about it

Like Minho, he’ll learn the choreography so he can dance with you

I feel like he’ll try to go watch your performances live in person when he has a free schedule. Cheering you on back stage on the sidelines

When he’s painting he’ll put the song in the background to give him inspiration when you’re not there with him

“Angel this is the best gift ever, I can finally die happy now”

[sturnsdc]

The Alchemy

pair: Jack Hughes x fem!reader.

synopsis: Yn has had bad experiences in romance, and when her mom asks why she's so sure about Jack, the memories start to answer for her, helping her understand why Jack is the right one.

words: 4,9k

warnings: just some corny shit, slightly influenced by taylor's song the alchemy, probably some mistakes in the writing—english isn't my first language, non-canon events, slight angst, cussing, mention of surgery, a mom who's apparently quite sensitive, and reader's had some really bad experiences in the past, use of “yn”.

A/N: this is so bad, i'm sorry, this is what happens when i listen to music while watching a Devils game

main masterlist                  nhl masterlist

dividers from: @cafekitsune ! ♡

This happens once every few lifetimes

YN´S POV

this afternoon, when my family organized a meal and my parents told me to invite Jack, i didn’t expect that sweet melody i’ve been obsessed with these past few days to start playing, and right at the moment my mom walked into the kitchen. She leaned against the counter, looking at me almost hesitantly, as if she wanted to say something.

“sweetheart, can i ask you something?” she said in a soft, cautious voice. I swallowed the cookie i was eating and nodded, frowning in confusion.

“sure, mom.”

“throughout your teenage years, i saw you with a few boyfriends—boys who seemed amazing, promising, and very charming. And i can see that Jack is even more than all of that, but… how are you sure?” she said. I stayed silent for a few seconds, processing the question. “Don’t get me wrong, we all adore Jack and his family, and we adore them so much that i need… to trust. I need to know that this time we’re leaving you in good hands, and that he’ll be good to you.”

“he’s different. And i know i’ve said that before, many times, actually, but i know i’ve never felt the way i feel with him. And he’s not perfect, you know? but i’ve realized he doesn’t have to be,” i added, looking at my hands for a second before meeting my mom’s gaze again. “I feel good with him, happy, even with things that seem so small, like, sometimes i can’t see him for weeks, and all it takes is seeing that big smile of his to make me feel safe.”

These chemicals hit me like white wine

What if I told you I'm back?

The hospital was a drag

Worst sleep that I ever had

then i quickly remembered one of those many moments when just seeing his smile was enough.

Jack had surgery, and we were all waiting for him to wake up. A part of me felt incredibly nervous—what if he’s still upset? These past weeks, he had been in such a bad mood with everyone. He sighed constantly, answered defensively, and his performance started to drop. We were losing him, and this had to be the solution. It had to be.

right?

but what if it wasn’t? what if something else starts to frustrate him?

what if he doesn’t want me here?

he doesn’t know it yet, but i spent the night by his side, holding his hand and suffering from a terrible backache because of the uncomfortable chair in the room. Luke had asked if i’d rather go with them, but how could i do that? i couldn’t bear the thought of him waking up in the middle of the night and realizing he was alone. At the time, i didn’t even ask myself if he’d prefer me to leave. It didn’t cross my mind that he might not want me there. Maybe it was too soon to be this close?

we´d been together for a month, and although we´d been great friends before that, i never worried about overstepping boundaries with my closeness—until now.

i sighed, staring at the options in the vending machine in front of me. My favorite cookies weren’t there, so i chose the not-so-bad option.

‘the things i do for you, Jack Hughes’, i thought, feeling my phone vibrate repeatedly in my jacket pocket. When i pulled it out, i saw i was getting a call.

“naked cat,” it read on the screen. That´s Luke, so i quickly answered, feeling my heart race and anxiety wash over me. His voice came through as i bent down to pick up the cookies i’d just bought.

“are you busy?” i heard his voice—it sounded irritated, or maybe just tired.

“not really, just went down to grab something to eat. Why?” i asked, trying to sound calm.

“Jack woke up, but he won’t stop asking for you. He wants you here, and he’s being so… annoying.” There was definitely some irritation in his voice.

“i, uhm, i’m coming,” i said, sounding more desperate than i’d intended. “Is he alright tho?” i asked softly, walking back toward the room.

“he’s fine. He’s just being a jerk,” he said. “Please hurry.” Then he hung up.

well, that’s a good sign, right? i mean, he wants me there.

i felt heat rise to my cheeks, and my heart pounded so hard it felt like the whole hospital could hear it. My hands were sweating, and my footsteps seemed so loud, as if everything else had gone silent at that exact moment. Or maybe it was just my anxiety consuming me. I wasn’t sure. Either way, i had to snap back to reality when the cookie package almost slipped from my hands embarrassingly, right at the entrance to Jack’s room. I quickly grabbed it, but the noise was loud enough to make everyone turn to look at me—including Jack.

that’s when he smiled.

he smiled in a way i´d never seen him before—not even when he talked to kids or hung out with his friends. His eyes crinkled, his cheeks turned slightly red, and he looked genuinely happy to see me.

i felt my heart melt, and i completely forgot about the past few weeks—the arguments, the tense nights, and the distant days. I forgot all my worries and doubts because there he was, still groggy from the anesthesia, smiling at me.

his smile was so genuine that i knew i’d never forget it. I wanna see him smile like that for the rest of my life. I want him to always be that happy.

his family looked relieved; his brothers gave me tired smiles, and his parents exchanged glances with small grins.

“you’re here,” he said, his voice groggy but smiling so brightly.

i smiled unconsciously at the memory, and my eyes drifted out the kitchen window, quickly finding my boyfriend in the yard, talking to my cousins—probably about golf.

“with the others, i got overconfident, and that’s why it was devastating to lose everything with them. But with Jack, it happened naturally, and i had the pleasure of getting to know him deeply before falling for him. He’s an incredible guy—with convictions, plans, and a deep love for his family and friends. And, you know… there are certain moments—the kind that make you realize you made the right choice.

before, even a short, silly fight could destroy a year-long relationship, even if it was over the most trivial thing. So i got used to expecting little, predicting responses, and bracing myself for how things would turn out. But he’s the one who opened my eyes and made me realize it won’t always be like that.”

I circled you on a map

I haven't come around in so long

But I'm coming back so strong

this time, the memory made me sigh.

we argued—it wasn’t a calm discussion, nor was it resolved. I can’t even remember what the fight was about anymore, but i know it ended because Nico called Jack, saying it was time to leave. Jack just sighed in defeat, said a brief goodbye with a kiss on the cheek, and slammed the door. Not long after, i followed.

that was almost a week ago. Now i’m in Boston visiting my family, and Jack is wrapping up his road trip with a game in Toronto. We’ve spoken briefly, and even through messages, the tension is palpable.

Luke and Nico have spent the last 48 hours begging me to forgive him and call him already. They say he’s constantly looking at his phone and that they’ve caught him rereading our conversations over and over. They tell me he’s sorry and that they can see it in his face and in the way he plays.

i’m trying to believe them—i really want to take the first step—but whenever i try to send a sweeter or longer message, my mind reminds me of all the times i’ve done that before and ended up humiliated, feeling like an idiot. So i can’t.

i decide instead to watch the game with my family, all of us sitting near the tv, watching every play. They were winning—Jack had even scored a goal and made an assist—but every time the camera focused on him, a pain in my chest grew stronger. He looked angry, frustrated. He wasn’t enjoying it.

my dad kept glancing at me every time Jack appeared on the screen, almost as if silently asking me what was going on. I couldn’t meet his eyes. I couldn’t tell him that his daughter was too much of a coward. I couldn’t admit that i was afraid Jack would react poorly, that everything might fall apart over a fight i can’t even remember how it started.

my mind was spiraling with doubts when the intermission arrived. My phone vibrated, and i grabbed it like it was a lifeline. It was a message from Luke. My heart sank when i opened it. It was a picture of Jack, taken not so discreetly from behind. He had our conversation open on his phone.

we haven’t talked in hours, i thought.

“please, just talk to him,” Luke’s message said

“y´all play in NJ on saturday, right?” i replied, and he quickly answered.

“yup, so please come back. I’ll even pay for your ticket if you want.”

and that’s how i ended up here, hiding in the crowd, watching them win again. We’d talked a little more since then—he’d gone back to calling me affectionately, using all the nicknames—but i kept up the act. Part of the deal with Luke. Deep down, i still couldn’t forget the way he spoke to me during the fight.

today, he seemed more upbeat—not completely, but definitely more than he’d been during that game in Toronto.

i saw him smile when Nico scored a goal, and his face looked more relaxed. Something in me hurts at the thought of that changing when he knows i´m here. Luke and Nico talked about how regretful and upset he was, but we still needed to talk about what had happened. It couldn’t happen again—not something like that.

the game went on, and i tried to enjoy it as much as possible, celebrating the goals and finally their victory against the Rangers.

“at least he’s having a good day,” i told myself.

but the moment had come—i had to see him. Following Luke’s instructions, i waited until the locker room was almost empty. While waiting, Nico came out and smiled with relief when he saw me there, wearing Jack’s jersey and offering a small smile of my own.

“thank you,” he said, and i could tell from his voice that he truly meant it.

finally, Luke came out, and i could hear Jack’s voice behind him.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” i heard Jack ask, his tone questioning. But his brother didn’t answer. Instead, Luke smiled at me and came over to hug me before Jack could see me.

when Luke stepped aside, Jack’s question was answered. His eyes widened, his mouth opened, and it looked like he’d lost his breath.

i´m not much different. Even though i knew i’d be seeing him, it felt different in person. He is here, and i don´t know whether i wanna laugh, cry, smile until my face hurt, or drop to my knees and stay there. I feel happy to see him, to know he is still here. But i´m also anxious—the possibility of things going wrong loomed larger and larger.

“hey,” i tried to say, though i had to clear my throat when my voice came out higher than usual, thanks to the anxiety.

but he didn’t answer. He ran to hug me like he hadn’t seen me in a year. In his arms, i felt him tremble. I could only hug him back just as tightly, taking in his cologne, the dampness of his hair from his quick shower, and the warmth radiating from his body.

“i’m so sorry, i’m really, really sorry,” he said, and i could hear the pain and sincerity in his voice. That was all it took for my tears to fall. I cried just like i had the day i came back to my parents’ house, sobbing into my old bed, thinking i’d lost Jack. But this time, i cried in relief because he is here, holding me just as tightly, apologizing for what had happened.

“i’m sorry too, baby. I’m so, so sorry.”

he pulled back just enough to cup my face in his hands. His eyes were red, his lips trembled, but he was looking at me with so much love.

“we’re gonna fix this,” he said, not breaking eye contact. “This can’t happen again. I don’t want to ever feel this fear of losing you again, so we’re gonna fix it.”

and we did. When we got home, we talked for hours, setting personal and relationship boundaries and clearing up what had happened that day.

“Jack makes me feel safe,” i confessed to my mom. “He shows me everything i’ve learned from my past experiences and helps me use it in a positive way,” i added, looking at her. “He helps me, and together we’re building a relationship that tries to be as healthy as possible. And i didn’t even know that that was possible before being with him!” I laughed bitterly. “He makes everything feel right—but not in that honeymoon phase way, you know what i mean?”

So when I touch down

Call the amateurs and

Cut 'em from the team

Ditch the clowns, get the crown

Baby I'm the one to beat

this time, the memory was more casual, sweeter, and perfectly represented what it feels like to be in a relationship with someone like Jack.

we were in the garage, in a space we decorated together, which has a small net and some sticks and plastic balls we use for “training.” We had dinner about half an hour before, and Luke was so tired he decided to head to bed early. Jack and i, however, weren’t sleepy, so we decided the best thing to do was burn some energy by training. Well, Jack calls it training, but all i do is stand in front of the net and clumsily try to block the balls he shoots my way.

i don’t think i’m much help in his training, but honestly, neither of us cares. It’s fun, and i love feeling this free and silly with him.

“come on, at least try to catch it!” he complained, laughing loudly and teasing my slowness.

“i am trying!” i defended myself, but i laughed just as hard.

Jack shot another ball in my direction, and this time, i actually managed to catch it. I let out a squeal of surprise and looked at Jack, who was smiling widely.

“i did it!” i jumped into his arms, and he hugged me tightly in return. The garage echoed with our loud laughter and cheers, and that repeated for a while until we finally started feeling tired.

the next morning, when i turned on my phone, I didn’t expect to find a message from Luke. But when i opened it, my heart melted instantly. It was a photo from last night—the moment I hugged Jack after finally catching the ball. It was a beautiful photo, and Luke’s message made it even sweeter.

“i was gonna tell you two to shut up because i could hear you from my room, but when i saw you two i couldn’t bring myself to do it. You looked too happy. Still, please shut up next time.”

“and… with Jack, everything feels so natural, even though i know being with him involves attention and some undesirable things. Normally, one would think that’s one of the biggest issues, but he’s shown me he’s willing to do whatever it takes to make sure i stay comfortable and true to myself.”

Cause the sign on your heart

Said it's still reserved for me

Honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?

when i started dating Jack, i should have expected that this would eventually become public, that people would find out at some point and our bubble of love and safety would be invaded by thousands of eyes and opinions. However, even though i thought about it once, i never imagined it would happen this soon. I didn't think it would happen now.

it all started with a mistake. I filmed a tiktok, just talking about a book i read and wanted to share with the group of people who follow me on the app. However, i never thought the video would reach more people than usual. It was no longer 100 views; it was nearly a million, and the comments were no longer about the book.

@/garretlover: omg, is that Jack Hughes??          

@/hughesyjack: What?              

 @/garretlover: Yeah! Look at 0:42, on the right side, you can see a guy walking behind, and I swear it's Jack, he literally looks just like him!                      

@/oliviarofan_acc: Yall are delusional, it's just an average guy with brown, wavy hair.

these were just examples, but there were many more, debating whether the blurry figure in the background belonged to the famous hockey player or if it was just a guy who looked very similar. The comments were divided, and the video kept going viral because of this situation.

but what am i supposed to say? should i post a video clearing things up? should i say it’s not him or should i be honest? Jack and i had never talked about a situation like this because we never thought it would happen.

then, the pages dedicated to posting content about the New Jersey Devils began to take notice, some posting the news of this rumor that was getting bigger and bigger.

i guess my biggest mistake was opening the comments on these posts, because unlike my tiktok, there wasn’t so much debate about whether it was true or not, but people were giving their opinions about this controversy.

@/jackswife: why would people think he's with her loll

@/huggybiggestfan: Standards are so low now...

@/john928: What happened to the models? I thought players always dated models, or at least beautiful women

@/kay_fl: I saw the video before she deleted it, and honestly, her voice is so annoying, how could Jack be with her? I'd be in constant pain LMAOA

@/sidney87fan: Isn't she his fourth girlfriend this month? lol, I swear he's always with different women, people worry too much, he’ll probably dump her in a few days.

is this what it all comes down to? they just saw a two-minute video, i was just talking about a book, why is everyone now commenting about me and him?

i know i shouldn’t let it affect me, that i should stop looking at the comments, but it's addictive, and my finger keeps scrolling down the screen, with new comments appearing constantly. "She's fat," "she seems annoying," "she’s uglier than the last one," even darker comments, wishing horrible things for me and sharing information i’m not sure is public or if they got it from somewhere private.

any app i opened felt like a virus, it was everywhere, and i could only read the opinions of what they thought about me from that video, not even realizing it was nighttime until i heard the front door open and Jack's voice announcing his arrival.

“hey, babe,” he greeted, and i could feel my whole body tense up. My chest hurt and i wanted so badly to respond, to greet him and run to hug him like i always do, but i couldn't, because i knew that if i spoke, the knot in my throat would be obvious, and i felt like if i moved, my body would hurt more than ever. I saw him appear in front of me. He looked at me, and his brows furrowed when he did

“what happened?” he asked.

i shook my head and cleared my throat to speak, “Nothing, how was your day?” i asked, making an effort to stand. However, i didn’t go to hug him, but walked past him towards the kitchen, feeling a tear slip down my cheek as i heard his footsteps following me.

“it went well, the guys were in a good mood,” he replied softly, and although i was giving him my back, i could feel his gaze, intense, analyzing.

“that’s good,” i said quietly, grabbing a glass and filling it with water, which i quickly drank to get rid of the knot in my throat. Instead i felt like vomiting, and had to put the glass back and hold onto the counter, fighting the urge to empty my stomach.

there was silence, long enough to make me more anxious. My stomach twisted, and i had goosebumps. I couldn’t turn around to look at him, and my whole body hurt.

i heard him sigh, and before i could panic from it, i felt his hands on my waist, and his chin resting on my shoulder. “What’s going on, babe?” his touch was warm and comforting, and when he wrapped his arms around my waist, hugging me tighter, i could feel myself starting to fall apart. The tears began to fall uncontrollably, and my sobs were so loud i couldn’t speak. He didn’t rush me, he waited.

when i finally regained my breath, i started telling him everything that was going on, and he listened to every word without interrupting. When i finished, i looked at my shoulder. We stared at each other for a few seconds, without saying a word, until he straightened up, pulling away from me and using his hands on my waist to turn me around. When we were face to face, he opened his mouth, looking directly into my eyes.

“i don’t care if it was a one-minute video or a ten-minute one, or if i was on the side or the whole screen. I’m your boyfriend, you can show me, i can sneak in. Now, if you want it to be a secret or private, i’ll respect that, but believe me, i don’t mind being in something that involves you, because i really want this to be serious and real,” he started. “You and i both know i didn’t used to take things seriously, and that i had some casual relationships like people are saying, but this is different, and i see a future with you.” His hands gently caressed my waist. “Eventually, people will find out, but today I can start demanding that these posts be deleted and that no one talks about my private life. I can’t promise they’ll forget it, but i’ll do everything i can to make you feel comfortable again and to make sure you don’t feel like you owe anyone an explanation.” In his eyes i saw sadness. “I’m so sorry that this side of my job is affecting our relationship, but i really want you to feel safe enough to tell me anything that bothers you, because i swear i’ll do everything i can to change it.”

i don’t know if it was the tone of his voice, or the sincerity in his eyes. Or maybe it was his touch, his warmth, and the way his words seemed hypnotizing, but something about him made the pain in my chest start to lessen little by little, and only the remnants of my suffering were left in my swollen, irritated eyes and my congested nose.

“i’m sorry, i really didn’t want this to happen,” i said, and he quickly hugged me, to which i reciprocated, my body losing its tension and energy.

we stayed like that for minutes, or maybe hours, whatever it was, it was enough to make me feel better.

“by the way, don’t believe what they say, to me you’re beautiful. The most beautiful girl,” he confessed, making a small smile appear on my face.

“Jack is really an incredible guy, and even though at first i tried to resist, he made me understand that i shouldn’t,” i saw him stop talking to my cousins, and the smile on his face was so big that i started smiling without realizing it. “He...”

These blokes warm the benches

We been on a winning streak

He jokes that it's heroin but this time with an "E"

"Jack, in the recent photos posted on the team's social media, we've seen you looking very happy, and this season has been one of the best of your career. Is there something keeping you this motivated?" said the voice of that interviewer whose name i’ve forgotten.

this is the third time i´ve watched this video, but i can’t stop, and i feel like i’m smiling more each time.

Jack smiled, letting out a small laugh as he looked down. “Well, you know, the usual,” he replied, though you could feel the emotion and nervousness in his voice from that question.

oh, he definitely knows why he’s been so happy heading into games.

“is it about that girl? people in the comments talk a lot about how happy you seem since they’ve seen you with her,” the woman insisted.

“yes, she’s really helped me a lot, along with my family. She’s like a heroine,” he said, surprising me the first time, as he usually wouldn’t have said something like that. My heart beats so hard I feel like it’s going to leap out of my chest, and my cheeks burn so much they feel like they’re going to explode.

“I suppose she really is a heroine, since we haven’t seen results like this from the Devils in such a long time. Do you feel confident you’ll advance in the playoffs?”

then the video ended, followed by another, and another, and another. People in the comments started calling me the “heroine,” and unlike when the rumors about our relationship exploded, this time people seemed to support us, even seeming happy about the change in the star player.

“he’s different, and everything feels so right,” i sighed happily, watching as people slowly began entering the house, including Jack. “I know it’s hard to trust again—believe me, i know—but he’s worth it. And if you ever doubt it… he’ll show you a thousand times why you should believe in him and in his love.”

Shirts off, and your friends lift you up over their heads

Beer sticking to the floor

Cheers chanted, cause they said

There was no chance, trying to be

The greatest in the league

Where's the trophy?

He just comes running over to me

winning the Stanley Cup isn’t easy. Every team fights through long and grueling games, and each player endures physical and emotional challenges, chasing their dreams and hoping to achieve the ultimate prize while enjoying what they do. From my experience, i’ve seen these guys give it their all—pouring in effort, tears, hope, and trying to maintain faith in the incredible team they’ve built. They had to fall so many times, feel frustrated, stuck, questioning everything they know over and over again. But only by doing that were they able to rise again, coming back to win with breathtaking games—like the one where Jack pulled off another hat trick, like it was nothing, helping the team secure that electrifying win that pushed them into the finals. Now, after six incredible games, I can see the result of all these months of hard work.

there are screams, tars, leaps of joy, and i can feel my own cheeks wet as i watch how everything they fought for finally led to this prize—the Cup. Seeing Nico lift it felt surreal, and i feel like my heart is about to burst with happiness as i watch them smile and embrace each other. I don’t even know how much time has passed anymore, because i feel like i’m floating. I hear them singing, laughing, and i watch each of them lift the Cup, kissing it and savoring one of the best moments of their lives.

i spot Jack and Luke, hugging each other tightly, and beside me, i hear their mom crying with pride for her sons.

is this really happening?

then he looks in our direction, and his eyes find mine. I can only smile, and at some point, time begins to blur, and i find myself standing in front of him.

he won the Cup, but i swear, my prize is seeing him this happy. My prize is the way he runs into my arms, lifting me into the air and spinning me around as he laughs, refusing to let me go.

this is where i always want to be—supporting him every step of the way, in every moment. I want to be by his side.

i remember that moment perfectly because the photo Quinn took of us has been my lock screen ever since. We even have a framed photo at home to commemorate that day.

This happens once every few lifetimes

“so just trust me, because i know he’s the one,” i said, looking back at my mom and noticing she was smiling, wiping a tear from her cheek. At that moment, Jack walked into the kitchen, just as the song ended, smiling and greeting us, completely unaware of our little conversation.

yes, this is where i want to be forever.

© sturnsdc 2025, i do not authorize my work to be translated, copied, and/or modified on any platform without my consent and proof of it.

[princessmaeee]

U N E X P E C T E D _ P A R T I

・ Hello ! So this is the first Part of « Unexpected » I feel like it's a mid start, but I guess all artist are the same, not 100% satisfied with their work. So, tell me what you think of this start. We're not gonna see Ji Yong that much in this first part, cause I needed to set up the arrival of Reader in the city and talk about her a little bite and why she's there and everything. We need the Why, where, when and how. So there you go, let me now what you taught about it and I apologies in advance for any mistakes you could find. ・Taglist : @thanosscross - @rafesbunniebby

_ Amy, For the last time, I said No !

Walking back from school, you talked with your best friend Amy about the same subject for the umpteenth time this week. Her dad, who live In South Korea, works  as a Manager for groups in a music company called YG Entertainment. He told her they will have auditions at the beginning of Summer to find new talents and since Amy is a popular singer on Tik Tok and has many followers, she’s sure to find her place there. The only thing is ; She needs you with her. She needs you for emotional support but also because you are the creator of all her successful songs. You wrote every song she sang and made the music behind everything she put online. Unfortunately you can’t afford to go In South Korea for the whole summer. You have an apartment to pay, bills , a job to pay school. You have your boring adult life and duties, not like your best friend who still Live with her mother and drops out School. 

_Y/N please I really need you. I want you there with me and I'm gonna need a New song for the audition. I need you to work with me on it. _You can totally take one of your old songs. You know I can’t afford that. If I could, you know I will agree to go to support you. But I can’t … _My brother want to leave the house but he’s not sure yet, maybe if You accept to rent your apartment for the Summer, You will have a problem solved, right ? _Yeah, Kinda ? What about my job ? What about my next school session ? I need to pay it. _I will ask my mom to pay for it ? Please, I really want you to come. My dad agreed to pay the plane ticket for both of Us. Since the time I talk about you he’s really excited to meet you. _I don’t know…I’m not really comfortable letting your mom pay for my things …

Amy didn’t stop trying to convict you to come with her and You finally agree IF you didn’t had any thing except your own personal stuff to pay once you gonna be In Seoul and IF her mom can pay for your school. Of course you plan to give the money back if she can at least help on that, it will help you and make your friend Happy.

So this is how you found yourself, some weeks later in the Plan, direction Seoul in South Korea. During the fly, Amy didn’t stop talking about all the handsome artists her dad work with and some other groups this label have. You just nodded and listen and forget everything she said 20 minutes later since you didn’t really care. You only go there for her as her best friend, supporter and first Fan. 

_Oh this is Big Bang, they’re so good. Really handsomes, amazing dancers, pretty voices, I like them so much and can’t wait to met them

She show you a picture of the group. You didn’t feel as impressed as she was. When you gave a look at when they started you raised an eyebrow. They’re probably older than you.

_They’re way older than you… _And ? _Oh I don’t know, the way you talk about them, with this little sparkle in the eyes makes me feel like you want to marry one of them, you answered as a joke.

You saw her cheeks becoming a little more pink as she took her phone back and looked at the picture with a smile.

_Honestly, they’re the ones who gave me courage to start singing. I always wanted to be as badass as them, as good as them. I hope one day we can work together. Also, when I was younger I had a Huge crush on the leader. His stage name is G-Dragon, but his real name is Ji-Yong. Look at how hot he is.

She showed you a picture. Her little story was really cute and more impressive than the guy she talked about. You gave a quick look at the pictures she had on her phone before giving it back.

_Yeah he’s … kinda Cute, I guess. _Oh, maybe you're gonna find a Boyfriend there ? That will be so nice and also adorable. Your first boyfriend, met during a Summer trip. It sound So… -K-Drama Core. No thank you. If I am to get myself a Boyfriend I will prefer him to live closer to me. Not millions miles away. _Y/N Why are you so dramatic ? Can you just let yourself go to some little fantasies ? _I wish I could. 

If life was a little bit more gentle with you before, maybe you would still have been like Amy ; Positiv, hopeless romantic with a lot of hopes for many things. Unfortunately you lost this little sparkle over time, but you still try to appreciate what you have, like this trip. Even if you’re not over the moon like your friend, You are still really happy to live this experience, it will change a lot from your boring life.

You even get this chance to learn some Korean Words or basic sentences. Even If your friend speaks perfectly Korean, you want to be able to do things on your own. 

- … -

The flight was Long and once you got out of the airport, you only wanted to Sleep. It was around 7am when you arrived. You were pretty tired but being here, in a new city, you felt so inspired and got Ideas for a new song, making you smile.

Amy’s father was the one who came to get you at the airport. Your friend was so happy to see her father and just jumped in his arms, talking in Korean to each other, until she introduced you to his Appa, who means father from what you learned. 

You also were introduced to Hang Min, his Son, who’s Amy Half-brother. You bowed respectfully and tried to introduce yourself In korean. They both smiled, happy to see you tried.

The ride to Amy’s father’s place wasn’t that long, but since they both talked in their language, you used that time to write in your phone some words for the beginning of your next song, well, more for Amy than for You, actually. You hummed the beat, trying to think the words could all fit together, moving your head and shoulder under the sound in your heads.

_You got Ideas  for a New song ? Amy asked _Yeah, I write it on my phone to not lose the words. But I will put it in my notebook once we're gonna be at your father’s place. And after that I'm gonna go to sleep. _As you should, said Hang Min, cause Tonight I will bring you somewhere to celebrate your arrival.  _Is that just a reason to bring your friends and drink ? Asked Amy

Hang Min smiled at his Sister before he answered in Korean. You noticed Amy called him an idiot and smiled. You are not the type who likes to go out and drink but, somehow you feel like tonight could be special. Maybe, for once you could allow yourself again to let yourself go and just enjoy life and trust it again.

The house was bigger than you thought. Amy Step Mom is an actress, so it explains the beautiful house. They even have a Pool.

Once arrived In Amy’s room, you let your stuff in a corner and just let yourself down on the bed, closing, closing your eyes. Sleep came to quickly, you didn’t had time to write your new song idea, but at least you have it in Your phone so it can still wait.

-...-

You woke up around 2 Pm, Amy was already awake and talked With Hang Min in the living room. He said he will bring you both to a special Bar where Kpop artists usually go if they want to have some fun and drink a little. After all, they can’t really go where they want without being chased by paparazzi. Amy didn’t stay in place, happy with the idea of meeting a hot guy who’s also in the entertainment Industry. That’s where Hang Min slowed her down by saying many normal people like all of you can go too. You just need to act cool in front of the artist since most of the ‘’ normal ‘’ people are close to managers or music writers or even, sometimes other artist kids.

You passed the afternoon with Amy to write her a new song for the audition. She asked her dad If you and her could go at YG tomorrow to use the recording studio. He said He will ask his boss and will be back as quick as possible, with the answer. You didn’t feel really inspired with her topic for the song. It was about love, something new, something cute, but you worked hard on the lyrics until she approved it. The love topic is not an easy one for you since your ex. You wrote about him when you broke up, but never showed Amy. You have a lot of songs about your inner feelings that you never showed. It’s like your little secret garden and you don't plan to show it to someone so soon.

_My dad said Yes ! Screamed Amy when she got her reply form her dad, we can go Tomorrow between 11am and 13pm.  _Two hours to record a song and create music ? It’s not enough… _The audition is in three days, we can still ask for the studio again, maybe. _I hope, Otherwise you gonna have to choose an Old song. I will not rush a creation just for An audition.

Amy and You continued to work on the lyrics until it was time to Eat. Hang Min had cooked something you never tried before and It was amazing. After, you jump in a Shower and prepare yourself to go to the bar. You put on a ( F/C ) dress, some jewels, styled your hair and put on some makeup. When you looked at your reflection, you smiled, pretty satisfied. Amy commented on how hot you looked before going into the car.

It was around 10pm when you entered the Bar. It was huge and noisy and of course full of people. Some were at the bar, talking, others were on the dancefloor, dancing. You never heard of the song who’s playing but it had a good beat and it was enjoyable.

_Okey so, open your localisation or your phone. If we lost each other and we followed a guy and he’s a serial killer at least the other gonna knew where we were. And if we just leave with someone, don’t forget to met me at the Studio of YG for 11am. I will text you the adresse. _Do you plan to just hook up with a stranger tonight ? You asked, confused. _Maybe, or at least make out with one and get pretty drunk. But I will not let you alone. We gonna drink a little bite with my brother and his friends, go to the dancefloor and if we notice a hot guy we can just… let ourself go.

You rolled your eyes as an answer, not sure that your friend have the best idea but you didn’t say a thing. Her dad lives in Korea but because of her mom she never came here often. I guess there’s nothing bad about having the time of her life. 

_I just hope you are not gonna fall for a serial killer, you answered as you received the address of YG for tomorrow. _Well, Killers are hot, she said with a smile.

As the evening goes, you met Hang Min’s friend, they were all really nice and welcoming, except one girl who was too much over your best friend’s brother, always calling him ‘’ oppa ‘’ with a cring fake cute voice. She somehow made it clear, she loves Hang Min and seems to see you like a threat or something. 

You can’t remember how much you drank. You just took every shot Amy gave you. You don’t even remember the last time you drank that much and you didn’t really care. If Amy was to get wasted, you will not play the sober friend. For once, you want to let yourself go. You always were so serious those last year, you made jokes with your best friend but since your last breakup, you always felt like you faked everything. You play the girl who doesn't care about anything, who doesn't need a guy, who doesn't need love, but you secretly envy your friend to be able to dream, to hope, to be able to let herself go without caring. Tonight, you want to be like that too and if you regret, well.. you will forget everything once you get home. This trip is a one time shot in your life and you don’t want to waste it. 

Following your friend on the dancefloor, you looked at the floor above you, making eye contact with a guy with colored hair. You noticed he smiled at you and softly waved his hand. You smile back before you turn back your attention on Amy, dancing with her.

The loud music, the alcohol running through your body, you felt frozen in time, dancing like the night will never end, until you finally noticed that your friend wasn’t there anymore. She just disappeared without even warning you.  Rolling your eyes, you decided to let her do what she want and just continue to dance until you felt a hand on your hips and someone telling in your ear.

_Mind if I join you ?

You turned around and smiled when you saw the guy who was on the second floor not that long ago. As an answer you put your arms around his neck, moving your body through the rhyme of the music as he does the same.

_I  had my eyes on you since you entered the bar. You look pretty hot. What’s your name ?  _I’m Y/N  _Nice to meet you, I’m Ji Yong.

You smiled again, not used to this, but the alcohol gave you some courage to do stuff you would never do if you were sober. Maybe because you were too shy ? Or because you have a lack of confidence ? Maybe both.

Still dancing with Ji yong, you quickly noticed he was good at this. Your back was on his chest, his hands on your hips, making you move as the rhythm of the music and you just naturally follow his lead. You could feel his lips brushing the skin of your neck, making your body shiver, eager for more. You hand slid in his hair. You pressed your ass a little bite more against him, still moving. Your cheeks start becoming red when you feel something hard between you and him. You knew exactly what it was and you liked the feeling it gave you, making you move more sensually on him, making Ji yong grip your hips more.

_Maybe we should go somewhere else, princess, he said, in your ear, You 're driving me a little too much crazy to stay here.

You turned around and look at him with a smirk on your face

_Leade the way, you answered.

[fauxade]

I like your taste with How I'd Kill, a lovely tune.

Last Song: Cadmium Colors, by Jamie Paige (I hadn't actually watched the video for it till now, it's fantastic i love it so much)

Last Book: Annihilation, by Jeff Vandermeer. Highly recommended, though I more often read other writing. Been diving back into SCP recently.

Last TV Series: I rarely watch shows. Re-watched Cyberpunk Edgerunners a while back, but the last new series I completely finished was... Murder Drones, I think. I honestly have no clue.

Sweet/Savory/Spicy: Spicy more often than not, though all three are great.

Relationship Status: Not looking for one at the moment.

Last Google Search: ROR2 Host Skip

Looking Forward To: Oh so many things! Mostly art/media.

Includes but is not limited to:

The Gaslight District & Knights of Guinevere, Season 2 of Dorohedoro, this continued animation renaissance,

Silksong, Subnautica 2

making more dandelion wine

reading Callum Stephen Diggle's Humanity Lost in its entirety someday (and his upcoming project Concavia!! both are on his patreon its like one dollar a month and the quality is insane. gorgeous artwork and stories, check him out!)

reading Rounderhouse's Bone Proposal

the chance that maybe Guns Pointed at the Head of God will get its next step (its been years but I can dream)

qntm's publishing deal for There Is No Antimemetics Division going through

completing various writing projects (definitely, probably, this time for real, i think, who knows)

various kickstarter projects coming up and coming in

listening to a cassette tape whose contents i am wholly unaware of

and the months of February & April (hopefully).

Current Obsession: KK-507 (from this SCP story, specifically sections YELLOW and GREEN) has been living rent free in my bone marrow for the past ~18 hours. I have a soft spot for such characters, even if they aren't immensely fleshed out.

Just leaves room for you to fill in the gaps, and even then they're more fascinating when they're still a bit unknown. Like how the stars twinkle a little less once you learn that it's just their light refracting through the atmosphere.

Thanks for the impromptu introspection @clever-naming-convention.

People I'd like to know better: tag game

Tagged by @biscuit-o here (thank you!! Putting this in a separate post to spare our followers the extremely long thread, lol)

Last song: ♍ - Let Me Dance, Let Me Glisten (by Flutterwhat (James Fischer))

Last book: Technically The Wheel of Time 4 - The Shadow Rising, but we're always working through like, five books at any given time.

Last tv show: The White Lotus courtesy of partners. I have no idea what's going on in there. Lol.

Sweet/savory/spicy: Savoury.

Relationship status: Happily partnered with @inseparabiles <3

Last thing i googled: Not counting things I googled for this post, "générique bob le bricoleur"

Looking forward to: Tonight's writing sprints with friend, and Saturday's movie date with partners.

Current obsession: Coming as a surprise to absolutely nobody, Death Note and specifically MelloNear.

Tagging the last 9 people in our notes for this:

@angurgapi, @lasalebete (DIFFERENT tag game than the one you tagged us in, lol. Will do yours in a bit, I have to go to dinner now!), @astrolesbean, @willowcatkinblog, @dem-bones, @cheesyygarlicbread, @somapodra, @inseparabiles (I know you and love you but you can do this anyway. Mwah. <3), @demonic-mnemonic

[say-hi-intrepid-heroes]

.

[skitskatdacat63]

During the 2020 shut-in era, I basically only listened to Coldplay and god the amnt of emotional nostalgia I get from listening to their music is so

[eggmeralda]

I wish there was a way you could put like. every song in the world on shuffle

[hplonesomeart]

Old record player spin my beloved <3

[pedroscurls]

in every lifetime

summary: you lost logan in this universe. logan lost you in his. what happens when you both see each other again, but realize that you're both from different worlds? pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader warnings: post deadpool & wolverine ("worst" logan!variant), angst (mentions of death, loss from both reader and logan), no use of y/n. word count: 2.1k a/n: this is my first logan fic, so if anything is ooc, i'm sorry in advanced! just like everyone else, i've been obsessed with hugh jackman / logan after watching deadpool & wolverine (if it isn't obvious lol)... i had the song 'unchained melody' in mind when writing this story because whenever i hear it, i think of logan for some reason lol (tried to embed it but it didn't work, but i'd highly recommend listening to the song while reading this!) anyway, hope you enjoy! next part.

“I’ll be back.”

“But what if–”

“I always come back, bub.” Logan’s looking down at you, hand cupping your cheek. In moments like this, you can see the age in his features. The crows feet at the corners of his eyes. The gray in his hair and beard. 

“Logan…” Tears sting your eyes. You know he has to leave, has to go help Charles, but there’s a feeling deep in your gut that knows that if he goes, he isn't coming back. 

“Wait for me, then.” He says, dipping down to gently peck your lips. “Okay? Wait for me.” 

“Logan,” you repeat. “What do I do if I– if I lose you?” 

There’s a feeling in the pit of Logan’s stomach, a sense of dread and fear that he’s only ever felt when you were concerned. This feels a lot like a goodbye… That maybe if he does go, he won’t come back. And the thought alone scares him. He never used to have to think about the possibility of dying, his regenerative powers always healing him in record time, but he knows that he doesn’t heal as quickly as before. He feels more pain now than he ever had. And he knows he’s sick, knows that the adamantium that once gave him strength is now slowly making him weaker.

But now, the thought of dying… It fucking scared him. It scared him to think that he’d leave you here, all alone, grieving him. He had never thought he’d be deserving of someone like you, to be loved and taken care of so gently, so sweetly, so patiently. Even with all of the baggage he carried, you never pushed. He knew, right off the bat, that you deserved someone so much better than him, but you stayed. 

Through it all, you stayed. 

And Logan would forever be grateful. After everything he’s been through, the things he’s seen, the things he had to do, the people he’s lost, you gave him a life that was finally worth living. 

“Then, you move on, darlin’.” Logan finally answers. 

“And if I can’t?” 

“You’ll have to.” 

“I don’t… I don’t want you to go, but I know that you have to. Charles needs you and–”

“I love you with every fiber of my being, baby,” Logan interjects. “And I will love you in every lifetime.” 

And that was almost a year ago. The moment he stopped calling, you knew that was it. That he either got into some real trouble or… Or that he was no longer here. It wasn’t until a young girl named Laura showed up on your doorstep, holding his dog tags that your assumptions were correct. 

You had fallen to your knees, a sob escaping your lips, as you felt your world come crashing down. Logan’s death had left a gaping hole in your heart, in your life, and everywhere you looked and everywhere you went, all you could see was him. 

You learned from Laura that during his last moments, he had told her to come and find you, that you would take care of her and give her a good life. Whenever you were around her, you tried to be strong, tried to put on a brave front, but behind closed doors, you were a complete mess. There were days where you didn’t want to get out of bed, didn’t want to eat; you just wanted the pain to stop. Every night, whenever you closed your eyes, you forced yourself to sleep because that was the only place where you could be with him. 

In your dreams, he was alive. 

In your dreams, he had made it back home.

In your dreams, he was here with you, helping raise Laura. 

And every time you woke up, you were welcomed with the sudden reality that he wasn’t alive. He wasn’t coming back home. He wasn’t ever going to be here with you to help raise Laura. 

Logan was dead and now, you had to try and learn how to move on. 

For yourself.

For Laura.

For Logan. 

—

He didn’t know what he was doing here, why he agreed to stay with Wade because it was driving him crazy. This wasn’t even his timeline; he wasn’t even meant to be here. Despite saving Wade’s timeline, Logan still found it hard to fit in. He tried to keep Wade and every single one of his friends at an arm's distance because he knows what happens to people he cares about. 

But the more time he spent around them, the more he felt at ease. Logan would be lying if he said he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, but when Laura mentioned your name at one of Wade’s family dinners, his heart skipped a beat. When he realized he would be able to stay in this timeline, you were all he could think about. 

Logan wondered if you existed in this world and what he would do if you did. So, when Laura casually said your name, his head turned around so quickly that he felt dizzy. There were so many things he regretted in his own timeline, but you were his biggest regret. 

Just like he failed the other X-men, Logan had failed you too. You had been there with the other X-men, trying to warn them of a planned attack and ended up getting caught in the crossfire. You had called out for him, just like Scott, like Charles, like Storm. 

He managed to get to you before you had taken your last breath, holding you in his arms. Logan begged and begged for you to fight, that he’d do things right from now on as long as you just held on, but you were losing so much blood and Logan couldn’t stop it. 

Even then, when you had every right to be angry with him, you gazed up at him with an understanding look on your face. You had always been so patient and kind, so sweet and considerate. You had made him so happy and it scared him, which ultimately ended in pushing you away because he didn’t think he was deserving of it. Of you. 

“I love you, Logan,” you had said, wincing at the pain. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m–” Logan felt a sob catch in his throat, tears stinging his eyes as he looked down at you. “Please, baby, please please please, don’t–”

“I–” you coughed, eyes fluttering as you felt the pain overcome your entire body. “I will love you in every lifetime, Logan.” And then, you took your last breath, eyes falling shut and body falling limp in his arms. 

Since then, Logan drank himself day after day, from dawn to dusk. The alcohol never truly helped, his regenerative powers sobering him so fast, but with every swig of liquor, it burned. And he spent years bringing pain unto others, including himself. 

That was, until he met Wade who had given him a chance, a reason to fight for something… To not turn his back on someone who relied on him. A chance for redemption, to finally make things right. 

“So, will you meet her?” Laura asks, holding Dogpool in her arms as she gazes up at Logan. “She– She used to be with this universe’s Logan and…”

“No chance, kid.” Logan interrupts, shaking his head. “I’m not him.” 

“Did you have someone like her in yours?” she asks. “She’s always put me first, always made sure I was taken care of even when she didn’t have to, when she was grieving. And I think–” Laura sighs. “I think if she knows that some version of you is alive, it would make her real happy.”

“I’m not him,” Logan growls, feeling his irritation spike. “‘Sides, she’s better off without me.” He stands from the table and walks out into Wade’s balcony to get some fresh air, shutting the door behind him as he leans against the railing.

“But she’s coming tonight,” Laura finally says, long after Logan’s walked away.

Throughout the rest of the dinner, Logan remains outside. He can hear the muffled laughter coming from inside and it only angered him because it was just another confirmation that he didn’t belong here. He’s already on his fourth bottle of beer when he hears a familiar voice, smells a recognizable scent. He turns slightly and catches you stepping into Wade’s apartment, an arm slinging over Laura’s shoulders so casually, so maternally. 

He feels his heart rate pick up. Your smile still lights up a room and he can’t help but his lips turning upwards at the sight. With his enhanced hearing, Logan can hear your voice and he shuts his eyes for a moment, tuning all of his attention on you until you’re the only one he hears. 

Then, he hears your laugh and he lets out a sigh. He never thought he’d be able to hear that again, but his eyes shoot open when he hears you say his name. There’s a shocked tone in your voice, laced with sadness and hope. It all but crushes him because he knows that you’re probably expecting someone else, expecting this world’s Logan and he doesn’t want to disappoint you. Not again. He doesn’t think he’d be able to handle it if he were to hurt you again. 

But when he looks at you, his breath catches in his throat when your eyes meet his. Logan notices the surprise look on your face, but before he could try and escape, you’re already walking towards him. When you open the door and step out with him, your scent fills his senses and it makes him dizzy, like he can’t fully concentrate. 

“You…” he hears you say, voice unsteady. “You’re not… I’m–” you sigh and shake your head. 

“I know who you are,” Logan finally says, his own voice shaky. 

Your hands reach out for him, but stopping halfway when you realize this isn’t your Logan. This is not the same man who died all those years ago. This is some version of him – much younger, less wrinkles and gray hairs in his hair and beard, but he still has that same look on his face. The scowl. 

“From Laura?” you ask hesitantly. 

“From my universe,” Logan answers. 

“There– There’s a version of me in your universe?” 

“There was.”

“And what happened to me?” 

Logan’s jaw tightens. “The same thing that happened to your Logan in this universe.”

“Oh.” Your face drops, eyes softening. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

Logan wants to run far from here, far from you because he feels himself yearning for more. He almost forgot how it felt like to be near you, to be inches away that he can just reach out and pull you into his arms. Your eyes captivate him, the kindness it expresses makes him feel like he matters. You had always made him feel that way that even through all of his anger, through all of the walls he put up, you showed him that he was deserving of something good. Even if he didn’t believe it himself. 

And you… You were the best thing to ever happen to him.

“Don’t know why you’re apologizin’,” Logan mutters. 

There’s an uncomfortable silence that engulfs the both of you. He can see the tears threatening to spill over, can see the way your lower lip is beginning to tremble and he has this sudden urge to console you, to wipe away the tears that have now fallen down your cheeks. 

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, bringing your hands up to wipe away the tears that seem to be trickling down your face nonstop. “I just– Losing my Logan just crushed me and I don’t think I’ve ever recovered.” 

My Logan. 

Logan can practically feel his heart beating in his chest. This isn’t a conversation that he thought he would be having and certainly not with someone he loved and died because of him. 

“That’s okay,” Logan responds quietly, his tone softening. “I don’t think it’s easy to recover from losing someone you love.”

“Did you– Did you love me in your universe?” 

Logan nods slowly, tightening his jaw as he gazes down at you. “With every fiber of my being.” 

Your eyes widen and stare up at him. This might be a different Logan, but hearing those words again just brings you back to the moment you last saw your Logan before he left to go take care of Charles. 

“Did you love me in yours?” Logan asks hesitantly.

You nod instantly, tears trickling down your cheek as you stare up at him. “I’d love you in every lifetime.” 

Logan feels his own set of tears pool at the corners of his eyes and he moves a hand to rest on the railing, fingers lightly brushing against yours as he stares into your eyes. 

“I’m not him,” he whispers. 

“I know,” you say quietly. “And I’m not her.” 

[paranoiddreams]

Animals!

«Talking Satoru through his third orgasm, praising his sloppily timed thrusts in and out of your flooding pussy…»

✞ Gojo x fem!reader

✞ Warnings!! - FILTHY FILTH!, unprotected sex, creampies, explicit language, multiple orgasms (m&f), tbh i wrote this at 2 am so idk if it’s good, Satoru trynna be a baby daddy, talks of (possible) pregnancy, BREEDING KINK! (If that wasn’t already clear enough).

✞ A/n!! - I was listening to this song when I wrote it, so yeah…thank you to Chino Moreno for fueling my late night thirst<3 also, it’s really short, so sorry for that. I need to start posting longer shi fr.

It started with your boyfriend sheepishly admitting his fascination for breeding kinks, claiming he wasn’t aware of why people were so obsessed with the concept.

“We’re not animals—we don’t breed, we fuck,” he said exactly, his blue eyes swirling with pride.

And now, on the slow and tantalizing build to his fourth—or maybe fifth?—load inside of you, he’s wondering to himself why he didn’t try this sooner.

His cock slowly drips more and more precum into you, adding to the already overflowing amount of both of your countless orgasms, all of which keep rolling in like tidal waves.

“T-there you go,” you shakily coo at him from below, misty eyes watching as each inch of his throbbing length buries deeper into your cunt. The tip of his cock kisses your cervix each time he bottoms out, before pulling away, just to slide back in again. “Doing s-sooo good…”

Satoru is barely holding onto reality, his mind so fogged with lust and euphoria from how your gummy walls feel around him. “Oh, fuck, I-I can feel—“

“I can too,” you cut him off, gripping onto his swelling biceps. “Cum, baby. Just one more.”

Those are the only words of motivation he needs before he’s picking up his pace, his face contorting in the sickeningly-sweet pleasure you’re giving him. You let out a low moan as he closes his eyes and loses himself in your warmth, his mind only focused on drawing both of your orgasms closer as quick as possible.

“God, m’ gonna make you a mama,” Satoru pants out, the sound of his cock ramming into you, and your soft cries filling the room, “think any of em will take?”

As if you were both intertwined as one, both of you cum together not even a moment later. Your cunt sucks him in as he paints your walls with his seed, a string of moans and your name falling from his lips.

“Fuck baby, you’re so full,” he babbles almost drunkenly as he pulls his cock out of you, watching his cum spill out, “full of me~”

Satoru’s fucked out expression, the euphoria still lingering in his tone, his fingers going to push his cum deeper inside of you, it’s all enough to make you feel as if you were in a different plane of existence; one where only you and him inhabit the world, and the moonlight pouring onto his pretty face was made just for the both of you.

“What’s my pretty baby thinking of now?” He asks, his head resting against your chest now.

“Nothing,” you softly say to him, lifting a hand to run your fingers through his hair, “just how, according to you, we’re animals now.”Satoru misses the meaning of your words although, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

“You said it yourself,” you laugh, “animals breed, not fuck.”

Your boyfriend then rolls his eyes in realization, a chuckle escaping his lips.

“Guess we are animals then, huh?”

[zooophagous]

So why do you hate the advertising industry?

Hokay so.

Let me preface this with some personal history. It's not relevant to the sins of the advertising industry perse but it illustrates how I started to grow to hate it.

I wanted to be a veterinarian growing up, but to be a vet you basically have to be good enough to get into medical school. I do not have the math chops or discipline to make it in medical school. I went into art instead, and in a desperate attempt to find some commercial viability that didn't involve moving to California, I went into graphic design.

I've been a graphic designer for about seven or eight years now and I've worn a lot of hats. One of them was working in a print shop. Now, the print shop had a lot of corporate customers who had various ad campaigns. One of them was Gate City Bank, which had a bigass stack of postcards ordered every couple months to mail to their customers.

Now, paper comes from Dakota Paper, and they make their paper the usual way. Somewhere far, far from our treeless plain there is a forest of tall trees. These trees are cut down and put on big fossil fuel burning trucks and hauled to a paper mill that turns them into pulp while spewing the most fowl odors imaginable over the neighboring town and loads the pulp up with bleach to give it a nice white color.

Then the paper is put on yet another big truck and hauled off to the local paper depot, then put on another big truck and delivered to my print shop, where I turned the paper into postcards telling people to go even deeper into debt to buy a boat because it's almost summer. The inks used are a type of nasty heat sensitive plastic that is melted to the surface of the paper with heat. Then the postcards are put on yet ANOTHER truck and sent to the bank, which puts them on ANOTHER truck and finally into the hands of their customers, who open their mail and take one look at the post card and immediately discard it.

Heaps and heaps and literal hundreds of pounds of literal garbage created at the whim of the marketing team several times a year. And thats just one bank in one city.

I came to realize very quickly that graphic design was the delicate art of turning trees into junk mail.

And wouldn't you know it there are a TON of companies that basically only do junk mail. Many of them operate under the guise of a "charity," sending you pictures of suffering children or animals and begging for handouts and when they get those handouts the executives take a nice fat cut, give some small token amount to whatever cause they pay lip service to, and then put the rest of the cash right back into making more mailers. "Direct mail marketing" they call it.

Oh but maybe it's not so bad, you can advertise online after all. Now that there's decent ad blocker out there and better anti-virus ads usually don't destroy your computer anymore just by existing.

Except now when I search for the exact business I want on Google it's buried under three or four different "promoted search items" tricking me into clicking on them only to shoot themselves in the foot because I searched for the specific result I wanted for a reason and couldn't use those other websites even if I felt like it.

And now we have advertising on YouTube and on every streaming service, forcing more and more eyes onto the ad for the brand new Buick Envision that parks itself because you're too stupid to do it on your own.

Oh thats ok maybe I'll get Spotify premium and go ad free and listen to some podcasts- SIKE we have the hosts of your show doing the song and dance now. Are you depressed and paranoid from listening to my true crime podcast about murdered and mutilated teenagers? That's ok, my sponsor Better Help can keep you sane enough to stay alive and spend more money.

It's gotten so terrible that now you have content farms, huge hubs of shell companies that crank out video after video to get more and more precious clicks. Which if the videos were innocuous maybe that wouldn't be so awful except now you have cooking hacks that can actually burn your house down and craft hacks that can electrocute you being flung into your eyes at the speed of mach fuck so some slimy internet clickbait jockey doesn't need to get a real job.

It of course goes without saying that animals are also relentlessly exploited by clickbait companies that will put them in compromising situations on purpose to create a fake fishing hack video or even just straight up killing them for sport by feeding small animals to a pufferfish that rips them apart for the camera.

And all of this, ALL of this doesn't even touch how adveritising is the death of art in general. Queer topics, any kind of interesting art, any kind of sex or substance use topics are scrubbed clean and hidden at the behest of advertisers.

Sex education, a nude statue, topics such as racism or sexism or bigotry in general have tags purged or hidden from search, even life saving information about SDTs or drug use, because if someone saw that and complained then Verizon might sell fewer tablets and we can't fucking have that.

Conservative talking heads often bitch and moan that they're being censored on social media. The stupid part is, they're right! They are being censored! But it's not by a woke mob, it's by ATT and Coca Cola not wanting their adspace sharing screen time with their stupid fucking opinions.

However, they won't ever figure that out, because the talking heads they get their marching orders from like Tucker and Jones ALSO rely on the sweet milk flowing from the sponsorship teat and they aren't about to turn on their meal ticket so they have to come up with even stupider shit to say for the train to continue rolling.

I managed to rant this far without even getting into the ads I see for the beauty industry. The other day a botox ad described wrinkles as "moderate to severe crows feet" as if wrinkles are a symptom of a fucking serious disease! Like having a flaw in your skin is a medical problem that you need thousands of dollars of literal botulism toxin to fix! I was incandescent with anger.

Advertising is a polluting, censoring, anti educational and anti art industry at it's very core. It destroys human connections, suppresses human thought and makes us hate our own bodies. It ads no value, actively detracts from value, and serves no real purpose and I believe it should be almost if not entirely banned.

[shaisuki]

SHAI

How about a bully gojo and geto take shy chubby darling to their room (for some reason/excuse)?

OR

bully jjk men taking chubby darling to their room (for maybe a project?)

Love ur works! Byee!!

🥹🫶

❝SHOULD WE TAKE IT ON PRIVATE? ❞

FEATURING. GOJO SATORU, NANAMI KENTO, GETO SUGURU, TOJI FUSHIGURO

CONTENT WARNINGS. dubious consent + nonconsensual moments + bullying + derogatory terms + yandere themes + possessiveness + jealousy + exhibitionism +

SYNOPSIS. jjk men taking you on private just to get a taste of you.

GOJO SATORU

“there you are.” said in a sing-song voice belonging to the white-haired boy that have been hot on your tail since you've tutored him in a subject that he didn't need of being taught. he passed that exam without difficulty and with flying colors. before that you have doubted that he needed you. he can play dumb all he wants but he's smarter than what you think and you shouldn't have accepted to tutor him. there was no need for it and the sessions where just filled with unsolicited advices and he wasn't even listening half of the time. only mustering a yes or no or a whine that he's bored. you just wasted your time on him and he was just waiting to get a rise from you.

clutching the books tighter closer, you let out a shake of your head to clear your thoughts and try not to look obvious glancing at the now empty hallway. you looked at him and in a clear voice you asked him. “do you need anything, gojo?” he only grins at your question before responding. “glad you asked. honestly i need you to show me something.” your brows scrunched up at what he said. “what?” taking a step back to gain a few distance from him and using your books as shield.

noticing your flighty behavior towards him. “there's no need for me to explain.” he suddenly grabs your wrist in which you pulled from him but he persisted. his smile turning into a annoyance at your resistance. “we don't have long and it will be done once you listened to me.” is what he reasons and since he won't get out of your hair you followed him.

“so what now?”

twisting the lock in his door and confidently strutted to where you stand in his vast dormitory room. “we're studying.” he says to you. sighing you just can't believe how you were easy to be fooled by him. there's nothing comes good getting caught in his whims. “you're just fooling me. you know what i'm done.” you say grabbing your books and began to stalk towards the door when he grabbed you.

“wa—” your voice died down as you got knocked straight to his bed while he puts his legs besides your plush hips. icy blue eyes stares down at you. his lips curling in a smirk. “you're smart but you lack common sense. i'm going to teach you.” his smirk turning wider.

you began to thrash but his grip remains tight to your wrist that you began to worry that it will leave a bruise. “the fuck you are doing!? get off me, gojo!” squirming as you move your body. the asshole didn't even budge at you. “relax, (y/n)-chan. you'll feel good i promise.” his words dripping with amusement and you curled your lips into a frown. disgusted at the way he called you.

it did feel good just like he promised. incredibly good.

hating how your body betrayed you as he lays between your legs. his tongue taking a long lick in the seam of your cunt that was dripping with your juices from the repeated assault it had taken from his tongue.

“g-gojo, stop!” your voice quivered as your thighs shake from his ministration. his white hair peeking from between your thighs. a mmm can be heard from him. “you're sweeter than you look, (y/n). should have tasted you sooner but whatever. softer too.” he added. his large palms are splayed in your creamy thighs before diving back. keeping you pinned down with his strength. he ignores your pleas.

your hands finds his hair. threading them with your chubby digits before fisting them as you unconsciously grinds your hips to his face. was your pussy that good? you can hear him moaning. the vibrations of his humming adds the pleasure down to your core.

fuck him and fuck his tongue. you never felt so good as you feel his tongue lick and his lips suck your clit. he even used his tongue to fuck your hole. wiggling inside as your back arched from the intense pleasure. you are so close.

a breathy moans escaped your lips. biting your finger to muffle the moans that was threatening to spill and your impending orgasm threatening to burst at any moment.

“sato—nhhh, c-close” you were so close and that's when he stopped. emerging as he sit, putting your legs besides his waist. “can't have you cumming on my mouth, such a shame you were sweet but it needs to be on my cock.” licking his upper lip with his tongue, drenched with your slick.

“it needs to be on my cock, sweetheart.” and then he grins.

NANAMI KENTO

“just one more page.”

he mutters. blissfully seated in his chair while you warm his cock. a faint hue of blush dusting his cheeks as he groans. the tight wet heat of your cunt hugging his cock like it was made for him.

the tip of his cock nudging the entrance of your womb. throbbing and leaking with precum. stretching your walls to accommodate his length. every second feels like torture as you deliciously impale yourself in his cock without moving.

nanami was enticed with you. took a liking to his favorite blockmate and there you are, reading the workbook of the course. you had been at the same page. repeating the same paragraph. your brain is too occupied with the feel of his cock rather than absorbing the general knowledge needed for the upcoming exam.

he needed the relief and what's best was the comfort of your fat pussy and your body pressed in his. what fatigue resting in his body slowly dissipates the more he's closer to you.

“doing good, darling.” laving your rounded shoulder with kisses. a whimper escaped your lips. unintentionally clenching around his length. tears clumping at your eyelashes. “it won't be long, okay? just want to feel you and i'll move.” he assures you. his hot breath fanning behind your ears. grunting as he feels you tightened around him.

he knows he shouldn't torture you this much. considering he lured you in the confines of his private room to warm his cock and relish to the comfort of your body. you're too good to be ignored and nanami was willing to spoil you after this.

“nanami—” a breathy moan call of his name and he almost loses it. cursing under his breath and he holds your plush waist. his palm splaying on your round belly. “i know, i know.” he repeatedly mutters. it was becoming difficult to ignore it now.

“i got you.” he shushes you and he moves. a whine leaving your mouth and then he began thrusting his length inside you. “that's it. good girl.” he praises you and that was the last thing you heard him say before you lost in the pleasure.

TOJI FUSHIGURO

the library's quiet except for the secluded part. muffled whines and the obscene loud squelches of his thick fingers stuffed in your cunt.

“stay quiet. you wanna let them catch you being fingered, hah?” toji drags his tongue to your round cheek. leaving a wet trail of his saliva. you shaked your head. your back arching in his lap like you were trying to get away from him but toji remained relentless pumping your fat cunt with his fingers.

he got a grip on your throat. a strength enough to make you lightheaded and briskly cutting your air supply without choking you. he got you half-naked after a session of you tutoring him as if he'd care for his academics when all he wanted was to be alone to you.

some light groping and convincing, he landed you on this position. turning the goody two shoes into a bumbling dumb hot mess. flipped skirt and unbuttoned school uniform. oh, he did like this look on you. how much more you can be dumber if he got you bouncing on his cock but first he need to prep you.

“you like that?” he murmurs. the scar on the corner of his mouth twitching as he curled his lips in a smirk. “you like being stuffed with my fingers into your cunt?” the pad of his thumb rubbing firm strokes to the bundle of nerves. “you want to cum in my fingers, babe?" he chuckles at your breathless and then his pace turned rougher and faster until you came undone in his thick digits.

“that feels good, huh?” his smirk stretching wider as you catch your breath. “see how you can handle my cock.” toji commented. holding you up. pulling his zipper down to grab his cock before aligning it to your cunt soaked with your release. “try to keep silent.”

is what he said before fucking you dumb at the library.

GETO SUGURU

the sound of skin to skin slapping echoed in the vacant room, only you and suguru were there. exchanging spit and sweats as he fucked you into oblivion. the chair where he sat and where you are bouncing on his cock.

keeping him close as you move your hips up and down. getting that delicious stretch of his fat cock rearranging your guts. “sugu.....” you moaned out. his black nails digs at your soft skin as he held your hips to guide you in using his cock as you please.

“i know, i know. you missed me.” he cooed. it was a lie. he just grabbed you and dragged you to this vacant room. it may seem that you were the one who orchestrated this whole thing, that you were the needy one but geto misses you and the thought of you made his cock twitch in his pants.

“i have classes.” you manage to say in between moans as your body jiggled. repeatedly bouncing on his cock. “just let me fill this tight pussy of yours and i'll let you go, hmm?” gripping your jaw as he crashes his lips into yours. swallowing your moans.

it didn't take long before he's releasing his cum inside your pussy. just when you're about to stand up and watch his cum leak out of you. dripping down your thighs. it didn't happen. he only kept his grip firm on your plush waist. the flesh spilling fast from his fingers.

“sugu... you promised.”

he only smiles at you. his bang falling down in his face. giving you a closed eyed smile.

“change of plans.” he says before flipping you into your back. his cock still hard inside you twitches. “i'm not done with you anyways.”

[brazilian-vampyra]

៹ ☆ MUSIC TO FUCK TO ! ꞌꞋ ࣪

(english)

⟡— synopsis: songs that jujutsu characters would listen to while having sex with you.

⟡— characters: nanami kento, gojo satoru, geto suguru, choso kamo, ryomen sukuna and toji fushiguro.

⟡— warnings: raw sex (please use condoms), rough sex, breeding kink, dacryphilia, oral, fingering, male dom, praising kink, hair pulling, degradation kink, alcohol use (only mentioned), size kink, fem!reader.

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗡𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗜 𝗞𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗢 𖹭︐

IT IS COMMON SENSE to agree that this man exudes elegance and luxury, in addition to having refined taste — despite his life as a salaryman.

Kento likes to enjoy quality time where he can relax and rest listening to something peaceful, real music for his discerning ears. So he bought a rustic record player in a vintage store that had opened downtown. With that, he could leave the music boxes and headphones aside, enjoying the various vinyls that were on the shelf in his living room.

He loves jazz and blues.

It was a peaceful Friday night, and his apartment was quiet, with the record player playing. You just had a few glasses of wine and enjoyed some cuddling on the black leather sofa. But every time you took a sip of the expensive wine, the contents seemed to go down your throat and straight to your legs.

It seems that your favorite blonde felt the same way, and it didn't take long for the innocent late-night caresses to evolve into heated, intimate touches.

Now you were in the bedroom. Your back was on the comfortable mattress and your hands gripped the silk sheets as your boyfriend held your legs on his shoulders. He held on tight, moving his hips against you. Your clothes were scattered around the house and you were completely surrendered to the heat, feeling it hit your core perfectly.

Nanami's hoarse moans were mixed with the sensual notes of "Sometimes I'm Right" by Hubert Sumlin.

The blonde held your legs, close to the knees, at the end of your thighs, keeping you still so he could be more precise with his hips. His beautiful eyes seemed to look into your soul, intoxicated by the growing desire that made your heart race. The dim orange light from the bedside lamp shone on his athletic body, giving you a perfect view of those muscles.

━━ B-Babe... please... stop torturing me... — you asked in a plea, for him to move his hips faster.

A hoarse, sarcastic soft laugh left his lips.

━━ Oh kitten, you have to stop being so hasty... — he placed a hot, sensual kiss on your ankle. ━━ You know me, you know I like to taste every little part of you...

This was an absolute truth. For him, it didn't matter if the sex was going to be slow and sensual or rough and fast. The most important thing was to be able to enjoy every last second with you in that intimate moment.

At a certain point he moved his hips a little further and then thrust in quickly, all at once. This time you cried out in pleasure.

━━ Always being a good girl, taking my cock so fucking well...

This blonde was madly in love with you.

[...]

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗚𝗢𝗝𝗢 𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗨 𖹭︐

WE CAN ALL AGREE that this man is one of the most promiscuous on Earth, right?

The strongest have a very strong sexual aura, and all women — even some men — wondered what it must be like to sleep with Satoru. That was a question you never wondered for long, as he had developed a notable interest in you.

He can make jokes all day long, he can take some situations in a more playful way and all that stuff, but when it comes to sex he is super serious. Although life seems simple for the strongest sorcerer in the world, he gets stressed about a lot of things on a daily basis, and there is no one who can help him relieve all of that as well as you can.

You've already fucked in many places, listening to the most varied artists, but in more intimate moments there is a specific artist that he likes to listen to more than the others: Two Feet.

Maybe it was because of the melodic tone, or the acidic guitar notes, or even his engaging voice, but Gojo loved listening to him.

Now you are in the bathroom, listening to "Love Is a Bitch".

Your back was against the tiled wall, and the ideal temperature hot water ran down your bodies, while your boyfriend held your thighs, getting support so he could thrust his hips slowly. You moaned against each other's parted lips, and he sucked your lower lip shamelessly. The steam from the hot water filled the room, along with your moans and the sounds of this sensual melody.

Although the sex wasn't rough this time, it was slow and deep. He could make your mind go wild by moving his hips like that.

━━ Hell yeah, babe... that feels so fucking good...

He groaned in your ear, hiding his face in the crook of your neck as he slid his hands down to your ass and squeezed.

━━ I can't get enough of you- ugh! S-Satoru... please...

Hearing this he bit the sensitive skin on your neck, making you whimper louder. He felt the soft taste of the chamomile soap that he had rubbed over your body with a soft sponge a few minutes ago.

You didn't let this go unpunished and brought a hand to the back of his neck, grabbing the wet white strands, pulling a little, making those piercing blue eyes look into your irises. A mischievous smile was plastered on his lips.

━━ You'll be the death of me someday...

The sorcerer wasn't lying every time he said you were his strongest weakness.

[...]

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗚𝗘𝗧𝗢 𝗦𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗨 𖹭︐

THIS MAN IS much more reclusive when it comes to his particularities. But you noticed that he was almost always smoking around, while wearing his headphones and having black strands of hair thrown across his face.

Maybe it was hard to tell what he liked to hear, he was so quiet. His voice was soft, he wasn't as "scandalous" as Gojo Satoru, Geto was always a guy who had his own vibe. However, he really liked listening to rock, especially alternative and indie.

You started getting closer when he saw you in the park, it was summer and you were under his favorite tree, reading a book you had gotten from the library and listening to some music on your headphones. He had no problem "sharing" his favorite space with someone else.

There was the beginning of your friendship with that beautiful boy with siren eyes. And it didn't take long for this friendship to evolve into a beautiful relationship — thanks to a little help from Satoru.

It was now a rainy afternoon in the city, not as cold as it seemed. You were lying on his bed, your panties were probably on top of some random pillow and he had his head buried between your legs. Drops of rain wet the window glass and you saw the wind ruffle the leaves of the trees, but you couldn't pay much attention while he was eating you out.

There was something very addictive about your pussy, something that not even he could say what it was, but he was on his knees for it. Literally.

"Knee Socks" by the band Arctic Monkeys was playing.

You were wearing one of Geto's shirts, which had the fabric pulled up, exposing your stomach and breasts. White socks that reached just above your knee covered your legs, which were draped over his shoulders.

━━ Uhmm... this pussy is so fucking delicious, darling — he groaned against your body, while his skillful tongue worked on you.

Suguru's soft lips also moved in sync, making you want to close your legs. You pressed your thighs against his head and you could feel him smile against your sensitive skin. Immediately those big cold ringed hands of his went to the sides of your thighs, squeezing a little and holding them open so he could rub his face there.

━━ S-Suguru! Yes, babe! Yes!

You screamed slyly, taking a hand to his soft, long black hair, squeezing and pulling a little. He really liked that and would never deny it.

━━ Like this?

He asked, in a hushed tone of voice, as you felt him slide two fingers on your wet sex and penetrate, sliding easily, curved slightly upwards to reach a spot that made you scream. He used his mouth again, but this time on your clit as the rhythmic chords of the music played, mixing with your needy moans, his muffled moans and the erotic, wet sounds.

This man is your deepest desire.

[...]

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗧𝗢𝗝𝗜 𝗙𝗨𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗢 𖹭︐

THIS HELL OF A MAN is a walking question mark. He really was a big unknown, but unfortunately — or luckily — for him, you loved solving puzzles.

Toji wasn't the most "difficult" person you had ever met, but he was certainly the most reserved. He didn't talk about the past, about life, he didn't express his feelings, he didn't share personal tastes and there was no way he would spit out the secrets he carried behind his frown. But, despite everything, that wall of muscles could talk about some things that wouldn't expose his particularities so much.

For example, you once brought up a topic about musical taste, a very vague and silly subject, but it was the starting point for you to approach him. Yes, it was much more varied and had much more culture than you expected.

It was perfectly eclectic.

He really liked listening to music when he was fucking too. You were in his room, with the neon light on, not too strong and not too weak, illuminating the room and your features in a shade of blue mixed with purple. The soft bed's sheets were a little wet due to the obscene and intimate acts being performed on top.

You were on all fours, your palms and knees serving as support so you were comfortable. It was playing "Hotel" by Montell Fish.

Toji was right behind you, with that beautiful physique exposed and illuminated by the neon light, that made everything more arousing. He thrust his hips roughly against your ass, and this caused the erotic sound of your bodies to echo throughout the room. His big, strong hands were holding your waist tightly; maybe it would leave some marks.

━━ Now that's a pussy... hmm... so fuckin' tight around my cock, am I too big for your poor little hole to handle, my angel?

He practically growled, followed by a rude laugh, in a bitter tone.

━━ I-I can handle! — you replied, in a desperate tone, lowering your head a little.

Immediately Fushiguro took one hand from your waist and reached for your hair, holding it in a sloppy way. This caused you to whimper and look at the huge mirror there.

━━ No, no. Don't look away... keep watching the way I ruin you!

You would be completely destroyed afterwards, but it would be so worth it, just like it was every time before.

[...]

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗦𝗢 𝗞𝗔𝗠𝗢 𖹭︐

HAVING A SHY BOYFRIEND could be difficult for other people, but it wasn't so much for you. It's okay when you approached him you didn't have much to talk about, since he didn't do "mundane" things like everyone else did.

Curses generally didn't listen to music or watch cartoons and go to parties, as is normal to see human beings doing. He was also very inexperienced in several aspects, because despite having centuries of years, he didn't do much and didn't interact with people in general.

But he had no problem learning from you.

You introduced Choso to music little by little, first you started by showing him what you liked and then you started introducing him to what he might like. This worked out really well, as little by little he began to accept this as something natural and listened to music more frequently.

Kamo discovered that he really likes rock and metal, and is now willing to learn how to play the guitar. Maybe that's a topic for another time, the most important thing is what you were doing at that moment.

The song "Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want" was playing, it was originally by The Smiths, but the version that flooded the room was by Deftones. He had put together a playlist full of songs with this theme that walked a fine line between being horny or going into depression.

You were riding him in reverse cowgirl. The elastics that held Choso's hair had come loose a long time ago and now he had his black hair loose, framing his face. He was panting and begging beneath you, his hands on your hips, squeezing your ass a little, watching as you moved it up and down at a slow yet very satisfying pace.

Since he was still a bit inexperienced, he had no problem letting you be in charge most of the time. And you loved having the honor of being on top of that beautiful and arousing man. You could hear the sound of your bodies along with your boyfriend's moans and the whimpers of the Deftones singer, as well as the distorted guitar riffs.

Without any prior warning, you began to move your body faster.

━━ F-Fuck, my love! If you keep this up I'm gonna cum inside of you! — he whimpered as you felt his cock twitch against your walls.

━━ But that's exactly what I want, silly.

You looked back with a wicked smile on your lips, seeing his pale cheeks completely flushed and his strong chest going up and down as he tried to catch his breath.

[...]

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗥𝗬𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗡 𝗦𝗨𝗞𝗨𝗡𝗔 𖹭︐

THE GREAT KING OF CURSES was an ambitious man, who desired greatness and power at all times. He did not accept anything that was different from the standard he was used to receiving as a powerful and feared entity.

He was not at all monogamous, he was used to having several women in what would have been a harem. He was insatiable, a ferocious beast who depended on sex as one of his main sources of fuel. However, now Sukuna had to get used to the modern world, whether he wanted to or not.

Curses were no longer respected or feared, as sorcerers were on hand to fight them. By the irony of fate, you ended up crossing paths and since that day there was no concubine to feed his desires, he only wanted you. Despite the countless declarations of love coming from him and all his talk, you weren't easy.

You didn't sleep easily with anyone, even more if this person was him.

But he was a trickster, he wasn't the king of curses for nothing. He approached you with that soft talk and that naughty way until you were finally able to create a bond. But flirting with people in the modern era was a bit tricky for a man who had been away for many, many years.

You introduced music to Sukuna, and over time he became more fond of it. He really liked rock and classical music, they were two different extremes, but who were you to question the taste of the king of curses?

Although when he was fucking you he wouldn't listen to Mozart or anything like that.

You were in his castle, in a room filled with the most diverse and luxurious tapestries. There were extremely comfortable cushions and silk sheets everywhere, as well as treasures, pillars and chests. Sukuna was on top of you, his naked body full of symbols a little sweaty and his gaze devouring you.

Your legs were comfortably crossed around his hips, while those strong hands with purple nails grabbed your wrists and pinned them high above your head, leaving you immobilized. He had a rough pace and really loved every little inch of you, every time.

The song "One Of The Girls" by The Weeknd was playing. That song had a very strong sexual atmosphere, and that made him even more likely to fuck you.

You felt some of his pub hair touching your skin every time he moved back and forth with his hips. He was thrusting deep inside you, making you tear up from so much pleasure you were receiving. That was a the best thing in the world for that sadist who found it adorable to see the salty tears running down your hot cheeks as you begged for relief.

He knew he wasn't hurting you — because if you indicated he would stop instantly. You changed Sukuna a lot, took away from him that kingly immediacy that he possessed, and above all consent was sexy as hell.

━━ Baby... I-I don't know if I can cum any more... — you cried out, because he had already made you cum several times today, you didn’t know if your body could take any more.

━━ Aww, are you so sensitive that you are crying, my princess? — a sadistic smile was on his lips while those red eyes seemed to be darker from the lust flowing through his veins.

━━ Y-Yes...

━━ But you are a very obedient princess, and I know I can make you cum again. You don't need to control yourself and give it to me again. I'm only going to stop when this pussy is squirting all over my cock, understood?

He took one hand off your wrist and brought it to your face, squeezing your cheeks a little and making you nod. With your free hand, you pulled him closer to kiss him intensely, making your tongues touch each other in a bold way.

He had found his other half.

[...]

୭ 📂 𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄¹: this is my first time posting something in english on tumblr, and as it's not my first language i'd appreciate it if you could correct any grammar mistakes˚. ᵎᵎ

୭ 📂 𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄²: all of this is created by me, i do not authorize adaptations or inspirations without credits˚. ᵎᵎ

XOXO, kisses that taste like blood o negative, see you next time little bats 💋

— brazilian-vampyra, 2024.

[maulfucker]

Tag ten people you wanna get to know better

Tagged by @better-call-maul hii !!

Relationship status: extremely single :] I have no interest in dating

Favorite color: either green or dark greenish blue, depends on the mood

Song stuck in my head: Cetapensâno by Carne Doce has been stuck in my head for at least the last three days (linking a live version because I love this band's live performances)

Last song I listened to: was listening to Açaí by Carne Doce on repeat. Vibing hard especially at the last half. Sounds <3

Three favorite foods: dark chocolate, every sandwich I make, this one flavor pizza that's like. cheese + ham + slices of boiled egg + peas or green bellpepper + onion (+ olives but that's in every pizza to me) (we call it portuguesa but lately many pizza places haven't been adding green to it)

Last thing I googled duckduckwent: man wearing apron (images) (I needed a visual reference for an art)

Dream trip: uh. idk I don't think much about traveling. Maybe a giant trip to visit all my internet friends. Or uh. Go back in time 6+ years and then go to Rio de Janeiro to visit the National Museum before it burned down </3

Anything I want right now: magical machine that can turn all my art ideas into arts immediately without me having to draw them!!!!! Or maybe some chocolate

Tagging.... whoever wants to do this :3