#but I feel like they would do exactly that

[thoughtfulfiction]

Carpe Diem

Author’s Note: We all miss him. So I wrote the most romantic thing I’ve ever written.

A glass of chilled Savasana California Rosé sat in front of you, its diluted pink hue a stark contrast to the sweet yet crisp taste. With a fork in hand you begin to dig into the chicken parmesan with strozzapreti pasta, the chunky tomato sauce brings a rich and comforting smell that shifts your attention from the constant hum of the plane's engine. Eating dinner on a plane like this—silverware instead of plastic cutlery, wine served in real glass—felt oddly surreal. This whole trip did, like you’d stumbled into someone else’s life.

You hadn’t always pictured yourself in this life—a corner office in Berkeley, managing accounts worth millions and rubbing elbows with executives. The internship you’d applied for during your junior year of college was meant to be a stepping stone, a way to pad your resume and have something cool to look back on the future. You hadn’t expected it to become the foundation of a career at a place ranked 7th among the largest biomedical companies by revenue in the world. And here you were sipping rosé in first class on your way to a solo vacation in Greece. Somehow, it had all come together. Your first year making six figures was surreal enough, but now the freedom to spend it on something like this felt even more unbelievable.

The hotel room you would be calling home for the next few days was stretched out like it came straight out of a travel magazine. Everything about it screamed neutral paradise, highlighting the warmth of the space. Plush pillows stacked neatly atop the Temper-Pedic king sized bed that earned the hotel all five of its stars with just one glance. The open layout gave the impression of a private condo, complete with a sleek mini bar and an espresso machine that practically begged to be used. The view from the top floor was breathtaking, floor-to-ceiling glass windows that made way for the vibrant blue skies that allowed the sun to shine at it's greatest capacity, reflecting off the marble from the streets of southern Athens below. And the colors were so dynamic; olive groves, fields of breathtaking wildflowers and citrus trees brought the city to life. Everything reminded you of a landscape painting, it was all so perfect you almost had to pinch yourself to make sure you were really here.

But before your Athens takeover could really commence, you needed a nap. Or three.

Day one passed in a blissful haze of recovery. After a nap that could have doubled as a small coma, you walked by the hotel’s pool, taking in the sparkling water and the soft chatter of other guests lounging under striped umbrellas. Breakfast that morning was a feast fit for royalty, an omelet folded to perfection, fresh fruit that tasted like sunshine, and Moustokouloura, a pastry so rich and sweet it felt like dessert at dawn. The concierge insisted you try Greek coffee, and when the steaming cup arrived at your door, its strong, earthy aroma greeted you like a wake-up call from the gods. You took it to the patio, sipping as you let the city below slowly introduce itself. This is exactly where you're supposed to be. Athens was filled with color, sound, and possibility. This was freedom, pure and simple.

Feeling refreshed on your second morning after some extensive Tik Tok research about things to do in Athens, you walked around the streets of Plaka, by far the most recommended place on the site. And it didn't take long for you to understand why. The neighborhood was a collection of some of the most beautiful brick buildings, an array of restaurants with uniquely placed outdoor seating. The air carried the mingling scents of fresh pita, grilling souvlaki, and blooming jasmine. Laughter and snippets of conversation floated from café tables spilling onto the sidewalks, where diners lingered over plates of mezes and glasses of ouzo. You walked slowly, admiring every square inch of the place like you were going to commit every detail to memory, stumbling upon a store with random trinkets you figured you could take home to your friends and tell them what they were getting themselves into when you all would be in Greece together eventually. Now that you'd experienced this on your own, you couldn't wait to share this experience with them next time. The first person you spotted when you walked in was a tall man, well over six feet, broad shoulders with his back facing the door. He was sexy from the back which meant...no. You shook yourself out of the daydream about what this man could possibly look like because of course men in Greece looked better. That was some sort of law or something based on every movie you'd ever seen. The book shelf at the front of the store caught your eye first, a Greek guide book with common phrases for tourists to know, things that maybe Duolingo wouldn't think of so you grabbed it, scanning the pages for useful information. You tried to focus on the guidebook in your hands, but your nerves betrayed you. An older man’s gaze prickled at your skin, a quiet warning sounding in your mind. Maybe it was nothing, you told yourself. He could just be a curious local. But by the third lap around the shop and you could still feel his eyes in you, the goosebumps on your arms had turned into a full-blown alarm.

The man was closer now, his steps too deliberate to be a coincidence. By the time he spoke, his voice was low and overly familiar, the kind of tone that made your stomach twist. “Hi. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “I just... couldn’t help noticing you.”

You swallowed thickly, hoping to keep the conversation short, sweet and with as little personal information exchanged as humanly possible. "Yes. Just visiting," you force out a smile.

"Ah I see, those are pretty," he gestures toward the necklaces in your hand, "pretty necklaces for a pretty lady. Does the pretty lady have a name?"

"Um," you wanted to take a step back, you wanted to walk away, but there was literally no way out of this situation because he was standing in between you and the exit. And for some reason you couldn't think of a fake name off the top of your head to give him. "It's—”

“Oh hey, babe. There you are,” a deep voice interrupted. Your head whipped around, and there he was—broad shoulders, a jawline sharp enough to rival a Greek statue. He had the kind of easy confidence that made your heart skip a beat. Mr. Broad Shoulders slid his arm around you, his touch casual but protective, the warmth of his hand anchoring you in place but doubling your pulse rate for a different reason. “Thought you wanted those charm bracelets, but you disappeared on me.”

“I got distracted.” Your gaze flickered upward, caught on the sun-kissed curl falling across his forehead. He smelled faintly of cinnamon, like he’d been leaning over a freshly lit candle moments before swooping in to save you.

The man takes a look at the two of you and apologizes, walking away without a second glance. You let out a sigh of relief, "thanks for the save, I really didn't know what to do and you just-I really appreciate it."

"No worries, I saw him following you around and thought it was weird. Glad I could help."

You look around to make sure the man from before, spotting him circling the back area with the pasties. "It's...very weird. He didn’t seem like he’d back down that easily."

“I’m Joe, by the way. Since I’m your boyfriend now, that seems like something you should know.”

You laughed, the tension in your chest finally easing. “Yeah, probably. Nice to meet you, Joe. I’m Y/N, your very grateful girlfriend.”

Joe leaned down slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper meant just for you. “He’s still watching us. Mind if I sell this a little more?” Without waiting for an answer, he adjusted his grip, his arm tightening around your shoulders like he’d been holding you this way forever. It was seamless, effortless, entirely too convincing. And it left you speechless. All you could do was nod, looking up at him, thinking about how this guy might be the most gorgeous person you've ever seen.

The two of you moved around the store aimlessly, the conversation flowing like you’d known each other for longer than half an hour. Joe explained he’d been in Greece for a few days, taking time to decompress after a grueling work season. “Sometimes, I just need to step away,” he said, his voice carrying a quiet sincerity that struck a chord.

“I get that,” you replied, sharing your own story of navigating your career and this newfound independence. You admitted, almost sheepishly, that sometimes your job didn’t feel like work because it aligned with your passions so perfectly. Joe nodded, his expression softening. “That’s how I feel,” he said. “I mean, this year it really magnified that for me. But sometimes when things don't go the way you hoped or planned, it makes the sacrifices worth more. Like not having as much free time when I'm working. Now, I have endless free time."

There was something magnetic about him—not just the broad shoulders and effortless charm, but the way he seemed so present. Every touch felt intentional, whether it was his hand on your back as you navigated tight spaces or his offer to buy the travel book you’d been thumbing through. You felt a strange sense of familiarity, like you’d seen him somewhere before but couldn’t quite place it.

After carefully deliberating over the trinkets, you settled on matching necklaces for your friends. On your way to the register, a woman approached, her expression warm and animated.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she began, “but I just had to tell you—you two make the most stunning couple. The way you look at each other, it’s just... beautiful. Are you here on an anniversary trip?”

“One year,” Joe answered without hesitation, a sly smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he squeezed your hand.

“That’s incredible! Congratulations!” the woman gushed. “Athens is the perfect place to explore as a couple. Do you have plans yet?”

You chimed in, “Not really. We were just going to see where the day takes us.”

The woman nodded enthusiastically and rattled off recommendations, from must-visit landmarks to hidden culinary gems. You took notes on your phone, her suggestions igniting your excitement for the day ahead. Out of the corner of his eye, Joe watched you with a kind of awe. The way your face lit up when you talked about exploring the city tugged at something deep inside him.

He’d spent the last four days locked away in his room, trying to process a season that had been equal parts triumph and heartbreak. It wasn’t just the physical toll of the game—it was the sting of being so close to the pinnacle and falling short. They had gone from 4-8 to 9-8 in what felt like the blink of an eye. The unmet expectations that he had for the team dulled his personal success a bit and he needed to escape after watching other teams prepare for their playoff runs while he cleaned out his locker. He just wanted to recharge and regroup…alone. And here you were, an unexpected spark in the midst of his self-imposed solitude.

When the woman finally bid you goodbye, you hesitated. Should you ask him to join you? The idea of spending the day with a stranger—no matter how kind and gorgeous—felt bold, maybe too bold. But being alone again felt... unbearable. You decided against asking because the thought of rejection was a step above unbearable, if at all possible.

“Well,” you began, your voice faltering slightly, “I guess this is it. I should probably head to my next stop now that I have a to-do list.” You forced a small laugh, keeping your gaze on the floor.

Joe nodded, his smile tinged with something you couldn’t quite place. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. I hope you check off everything on your list.”

He watched you walk away, his chest tightening with each step. He wanted to stop you, to ask you to stay, but the words wouldn’t come. All he could do was stand there, frozen, as the door swung open.

You paused just before stepping outside. Something tugged at you—a feeling that walking away now would be a mistake.

Turning back, you smiled shyly. “I just realized... how am I supposed to experience Athens to its full potential without my boyfriend? On our anniversary trip, no less?”

Joe’s laugh was warm, easy. “No idea. Luckily, I think I know someone who can help.”

“You’re always so helpful. I feel like I won the dating lottery.”

“Can’t disagree,” he teased, his grin widening.

“Alright,” you said, nudging him playfully, “let’s get out of here before your head gets so big it doesn’t fit through the door.”

He walked out with you, allowing you to lead the way to your first stop.

Fairytale Athens looked like an intense mix between the Garden of Eden and Alice in Wonderland. "This is...wow," Joe quips, the vast array of flowers on the ceiling, the pink bar area and the flamingos. So many flamingos.

You could tell by his tight expression that this place isn't really his scene. "We're not here for two hours of afternoon tea or anything," you reassure him with a smile, "Dimitra said that we should grab drinks before walking around Acropolis and that..." you glance at the menu in front of you, "...strawberry ginger lemonade? That might be calling my name." He shakes his head and orders a mint and cucumber lemonade for himself, your lemonade and two waters as you walk around the princess castle, taking as many pictures as possible before Joe walked back over with all four drinks in hand before heading to the incredibly famous tourist attraction.

The package you paid for allowed you to skip the line and head through a side entrance, your tour guide walking you through the history of the ancient sights along with details about the architectural styles, construction techniques, and the symbolism of the monuments. The faint echo of the voices highlighted the rich history of the place you were standing in, the warm air a stark contrast to the cool lemonade in your hand. It seemed like Joe was hanging onto every word as he helped you up some steep ancient steps, his eyes lighting up as the guide drove you over to the museum, going into depth about the Gods.

"This exhibit is Gods, Worship and Magic, one of the most popular sites this year. You guys can walk around and read about the different deities featured." Artemis' exhibit, caught your eye first.

Glancing down at the steel plaque, "goddess of the hunt, devoted to nature. Were you ever a Percy Jackson fan growing up?"

"I was more of a SpongeBob guy. And Star Wars. Definitely had a dinosaur phase that lasted a lot longer than I care to share," he looks up, wondering why in the hell he just told you that. "Do—do you have any humiliating stories you'd like to share with the class?"

He nudged you as you walked alongside him, his hand so dangerously close to yours. You had the biggest urge to reach out and touch him. So you did. Reaching out maybe an inch, you interlocked your pinky with his, making his heart take a leap in his chest, swinging your hands happily towards the Eros exhibit. "The god of—”

"Love and desire," he finishes for you. Just because he wasn’t a Percy Jackson fanatic, doesn’t mean he didn’t pay close attention to the Greek mythology unit in school.

"Look at the hands," you said softly, leaning in closer. "It's like they're...perfectly fit for each other, you know?"

Joe's breath hitched almost imperceptibly. He was standing so close now, the faint scent of mint and cucumber from his lemonade mingling with the earthy air of the exhibit. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice warm and low, "I know what you mean."

Your pinkies were still hooked, but now the little space between you felt electrified. You didn't dare turn to meet his eyes, afraid of what you might see—or what he might see in yours.

"I do have an embarrassing thing to share with the class," you turn to face him and admire the excited look on his face, like what you're about to say is the most important thing in the world. "When I was little I was obsessed with Mama Mia." He gives you a puzzled look. "It's a musical that they turned into a movie. Anyway...it's about a girl that's getting married in a small town in Greece and the views just..." you pause, smiling at the memory, "...changed my life. I've always wanted that magical movie moment feeling. The music, the views, the…”

"Romance?" he finishes softly, a knowing look in his eyes.

You exhale, your cheeks warming as you nod. "Yeah...the romance. It was nice too." You hesitate, the words catching in your throat. "Doesn’t really compare to the real thing, though," you add, barely above a whisper.

The weight of the moment lingers between you. His gaze searches yours, his expression softening like he wants to say something but can’t quite find the words. Your heart stumbles, and suddenly you feel too seen. You clear your throat, breaking the spell. "I'm, uh, getting kind of hungry. We should grab lunch and head to the next spot."

Joe blinks, a flicker of surprise crossing his face, like he wasn't ready for the shift. "Yeah, sure," he says, his voice gentler now. He watches you for a second longer than you'd expect, then nods. As you walk back to meet the tour guide, Joe finds himself wondering how you’ve managed to unravel him so quickly, leaving him wondering why he already feels so invested in figuring you out.

When you get into the Uber it's like a weight has been lifted off your chest. The museum, which was supposed to be a calm and educational experience was too stuffy and intimate by the end of the visit. In the car, you could have your own space, sitting as close to the door as you could to gather yourself and your thoughts. The driver was nice enough, he had chargers in the car and gave you water bottles, noting that the heat would steadily increase throughout the day. You noticed him stealing glances at Joe in the rearview mirror, his hands tightening on the wheel like he was holding back words. The silence stretched until finally—“I’m sorry, man. I just gotta say…” he finally utters out, "I've been a Bengals fan since I was 8. And I woke up at ungodly hours to watch you play every week. Huge, huge fan."

You laughed at yourself in your seat, the pieces of the puzzle being put together. All of your focus had been on the day, spending every waking minute together and you didn't even fully process why he looked so familiar because the odds of that just sounded too insane to be real. Joe managed a polite smile, his usual ease replaced with a flicker of discomfort. You glanced at him, watching his jaw tighten just slightly as he signed the hat, the faintest blush creeping up his neck. Did he worry you’d see him differently now?

The car stopped near a bustling square lined with food trucks and small cafes. The aroma of grilled meat and spices wafted through the air as you wandered, your eyes drawn to colorful menus. It didn’t take long for the debate to begin.

"Joseph, the mini burgers are definitely better than the souvlaki cones. Be serious."

"No they aren't!" He argues, "you just need to try another one, here."

The souvlaki cone was tender and smoky, the tzatziki tangy and cool against the heat of the pork. But the burger—crispy bacon, the creamy richness of the mayo—felt indulgent, almost sinful. You savored every bite, laughing at Joe’s mock-offended gasp when you declared it the winner. "I hear you and I respect your wrong opinion. But the burger is just better I'm sorry. Do you want another bite?"

He shakes his head slowly, admiring you while you did such a mundane task, silently cursing himself at the fact that he chartered a plane to leave early the next morning. The two of you needed more time together. One day just wasn't going to be enough and the more time he spent with you the more apparent that fact became.

And then you took him on a boat.

It rocked gently, but Joe’s hands gripped the edge of the seat like the waves were threatening to tip them over. His gaze darted toward the horizon, avoiding the churning water below. “You’re really not a boat guy, huh?” you teased, your voice softening when his fingers tightened further. "I'm so sorry I had no idea. But Joe? We're literally in Greece, it's like, treason not to get on a boat here."

"Exactly, so I'm abiding by the law. Doesn't mean I have to enjoy it."

Your hand found his thigh in a quiet attempt to reassure him, and you felt the tension slowly drain from his muscles. He glanced at you, his expression unreadable, but the way his leg leaned ever so slightly into your touch sent a warmth through you that lingered long after. Aegina’s coastline unfolded before you, the white-washed buildings glowing under the sun, expansive trees swaying in the breeze. Joe stepped out first, offering his hand. His grip was firm, steadying you until your feet found the solid ground. You smiled up at him, the unspoken connection between you stronger than ever.

Just as Dimitra had described to you before, the pottery studio was tucked in a quiet corner of the island. Inside, the walls were lined with vibrant pottery, each bowl and vase a testament to countless hands shaping their stories, their glazes gleaming softly in the sunlight as you and Joe grabbed seats toward the back of the room. The instructor's notes were simple, to mold an item of your choice to keep at the end of the session, giving everyone creative freedom to produce a piece of their heart's desire. The clay felt cool to the touch, it's sticky and wet texture balanced wonderfully with the earthy smell that made your experience all the more relaxing and fun. Joe on the other hand, was creating a bowl with a lopsided shape, "it's supposed to look like this," he said firmly, biting back a laugh as you tried (and failed) to keep a straight face.

"Abstract art is still art. I just thought maybe...a quarterback would be better with his hands," you teased.

"Oh yeah? Let's see your work, Picasso." He took a break from his work station to scoot closer to yours, "shit, that actually looks pretty good."

You clean your hands off and move over to his station when he sets his chair back down. "I worked at my uncle's ceramic shop when I was little. It was his passion project so we all had to pitch in as a family and take turns," you helped guide his hand along the bowl, allowing him to smooth over the ridges efficiently evening out some of the misshapen parts. "I'm not saying I’m an expert by any means but I can get you to a point where your bowl can sit up by itself." Your fingers brushed his as you guided his hand, the soft pressure of your touch steadying his movements. Together, the ridges of the bowl began to smooth, though neither of you seemed in a hurry to let go. By the end of the session both bowls were done to the best of your ability, sort of bowl shaped, sort of not and full of personality.

"You’re good at this," Joe says, watching as continued to shape your bowl.

"Good at pottery?" you ask, laughing.

"Good at making things feel...easier," he replies softly. The pottery, he thought to himself, sort of mirrored your time together-unpolished, imperfect, but full of potential and that was both exciting and daunting. After your hands were clean, he grabbed your phone and snapped a picture of the two of you showing off your bowls.

"I was scared when you mentioned doing this at first, but I actually really enjoyed that. This," he gestures to his masterpiece, "is going up somewhere, maybe next to the trophy case at my parent's house. Funny enough, they also live in Athens. Ohio, not Greece," he clarifies.

"You might've missed your true calling," you tell him with a laugh, "here you are wasting your talents on football when the art community needs you."

"Yeah...sure," he laughs, holding onto the bags with your now fully dry bowls in them. "Unfortunately, I don't think I'm ready to quit my day job. Quite frankly, I don't think the art world is ready for me yet. Although working that clay could have been really good wrist rehab."

There it was, that can of worms you'd been trying to navigate. You didn't want to push him to talk about the season or his job if he didn't want to. And now the door was open for you to ask. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to but...was it scary? You know, putting your entire life, all of your free time, your dedication to this one thing that you're obviously really good at. Putting in all that work and then one day it's all just...taken away from you?"

He stops walking for a bit and your breath hitches in your throat, fearing that you've pushed him too far. At the end of the day you were still a stranger to him and maybe that was too personal?

You could tell the question was kind of eating at him, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean—”

"No it's fine. I just…yeah. I was terrified for a little bit. No one had been through this before—not at my position, not at this level. I had no blueprint, no one to turn to for advice. It felt like— walking on a tightrope in the dark, hoping I wouldn’t fall.

“The scariest part wasn’t the pain or the rehab," Joe admits. "It was not knowing if I’d still be...me when it was all over."

You tilt your head, searching his face. "You mean, the quarterback?"

He hesitates, then shakes his head. "No. Just...me. Without football, I really didn’t know who that was, how I was going to navigate fame and my private life and everything in between that comes with being me. Whatever that means. And I had an uncomfortably long amount of time to figure it out. Now that the wrist and my health is not an issue anymore and with everything that happened during the season I just felt drained afterwards. Exhausted honestly. And today's been exactly what I needed.”

"Today's been a breath a fresh air for me too. Obviously I didn't have 500 pounds of man laying on top of me but I get it on a smaller scale. Feeling like work is drowning you and nothing you do is good enough so you need to escape. This trip isn’t just a celebration," you confess. "It’s a reminder that I’m more than my deadlines and titles. My boss once called me at 11 p.m. on a Sunday, and I didn’t even blink before picking up. I guess I forgot what it felt like to just...be. I really needed a—”

"Reset," the two of you say at the same time, a comfortable silence washing over you as you continue to walk. "That’s kind of why I came here," you confess. "Not to figure out who I am, but...to remind myself I’m more than my job. More than what other people expect of me."

"Feels like everyone’s always watching, doesn’t it?" Joe says, his voice quieter. "Waiting for you to fail or...prove them right."

"Yeah. But I think we deserve more than that."

Joe sighs, nodding quietly, "We do," Joe says with a small smile. "And one day, when we get it, we’ll look back on this trip as the start of something different." He didn’t say everything he was thinking—some things needed more time to come to the surface.

"Sounds perfect, lead the way."

After you shared the world's greatest chicken gyro, you walked around Aegina a little more, realizing that you had no time to change before dinner and you'd been wearing the same clothes all day long. You walked into a small store, grabbing things off the shelf to try on. Joe was easy, settling for gray cargo pants and a blue striped knit top. Rummaging through clothes and anything that wasn't instant online shopping had become a bit of a chore and you were on a time crunch which made you feel even more rushed. You grabbed three or four dresses and had Joe sit outside the fitting room while you tried the stuff on, only stepping out to show him your favorite.

"What do you think about this?”

The baby blue square neck A-line dress hugged your body like it was created just for you to wear, it's length accentuating your curves in a way that almost had him physically picking his jaw up off the floor. He didn't think you could look any better before but you'd just shattered his expectations. "You look absolutely amazing," he says sincerely, his mouth feeling dry.

You glance at him, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. Compliments weren’t new, but the way he said it—like it was the only thing in the world that mattered—left you speechless. You managed a soft laugh, pretending to study your reflection. "Thanks." After heading back to the fitting room to change, you grabbed all of your items and headed to the front to pay with Joe standing behind you in line. The cashier rung up your items and was getting ready to bag it when Joe added his clothes to the mix.

"Joe what are you doing? You're not paying for my clothes."

He handed over his card without hesitation, ignoring your protests. "I’ve got this," he said, his voice casual but his eyes portraying something deeper, like this was the most natural thing in the world to him. "Boyfriends are supposed to buy things. I think it’s in the constitution.”

"It's definitely not. And seriously, you don't have to do this."

"I got it, don't worry babe." The word slipped out so effortlessly that for a second, you wondered if you’d misheard him. But the way his eyes flicked to yours, briefly widening, told you everything. He realized it too—and yet, he didn’t take it back.You thanked him the entire walk back to the boat, his soft laugh sending warm and fuzzy feelings in your chest.

You were starting to acknowledge the growing warmth between you two, the way Joe’s presence seemed to make every moment feel right. The idea of saying goodbye felt heavier than it should after just one day, but somehow, it seemed inevitable. The next spot was inside a resort, they allowed you to change your clothes and head upstairs to the rooftop bar to watch the sunset. The drinks and the view had nothing on you, he quickly realized, finding himself unable to tear his eyes away. Everything just made sense today, the museum walk, the easy conversation, the boat ride. He didn't want to leave before but now the mere thought of packing his suitcase tonight made him upset.

"What are you thinking about over there?" Your words snap him out of his thoughts.

"Nothing, just how much I'm going to miss it here. The peace, the incredible sunset..."

You. The word hung in the air for a while before he pushed it down and tried to move on.

"We should head over to there and get closer to the view, you can literally see the entire city from glass railing." You stood up first and grabbed his hand, practically dragging him over there. Luckily there wasn't anyone else in the area. "This is the most insane scenery. I don't get how anyone could get tired of seeing this everyday, I'd never be inside. I feel like we’ve been the physical representation of carpe diem."

He looks at you confused, "what does that even mean?"

"Carpe diem? It’s Latin for 'seize the day.' Basically saying not to focus too much on the future and live in the present to the fullest capacity.”

"I like that," he chuckles.

Long after the sun went down and most of your dishes were cleared from the table, the lingering sweetness of caramel on your lips was all you could think about, a fleeting pleasure that only made the impending goodbye sting even more.

"Joe I have to tell you something," he looks at you as you head over to stand in one of the private lounge areas, giving you his undivided attention. "I saw you this morning in the store. Your back was facing me but I don't know, you caught my eye. And I told myself I wouldn't say anything, I wouldn't go up to you and make small talk because I'm here on a solo vacation to be one with myself and-now I'm really glad that I know you."

A smile forms on the corner of his mouth, "I've been telling myself all day that this isn't real. That I could just let my guard down because in Greece, I don't have to be Joe Burrow. I can just be...Joe. You let me be exactly who I am, nothing more, nothing less. And honestly? This might've been the single greatest day of my life. I've had good ones, really good ones. But today is up there for sure." You hadn’t realized how close you’d gotten until you could feel his arm against yours, his breath soft and warm on your cheek. His eyes dropped to your lips again, this time lingering a moment longer, as if the air between you had thickened. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, his breath just a whisper away, as his hand hovered near your cheek. His fingers brushed against your skin, sending a spark through you, and for a moment, you thought he might pull you in.

You couldn't allow yourself to go there. This wasn’t supposed to happen, not now, not like this—but the way he was looking at you, like you were the only thing in the world that mattered, made it hard to think clearly. As much as you wanted this, to feel him close, to taste the sweetness of that kiss, the weight of knowing how fleeting it all was crushed down on you. This wasn’t just a kiss—it was everything you were afraid to want, a piece of yourself that you couldn’t let slip away so easily. If you already felt this strongly about him after a day, how were you going to make it through the rest of the vacation without him knowing how his lips tasted and how his strong hands pulled you in close, holding onto you like he'd rather lose everything than let you go. There was no way in the world you'd recover.

"We can't," you whisper, watching him drop his hand that had just been lightly caressing your cheek. "You're gonna leave tomorrow and I'm gonna be thinking about this kiss for a long time. And I can't," your voice trembles. "I don't want you to go, so I can't kiss you. I'm sorry."

"No don't—don't apologize. I get it." He still hadn't taken a step back, biting his lip to keep his emotions in check. "I can walk you back to your hotel? I haven't packed yet and I need to.”

"Sure, yeah that's fine."

The 15 minute walk felt like three seconds. You didn't want him to go. He no longer wanted to leave. "Y/N I—”

You wrapped him up in a bone crushing hug, silently begging him to stay, just for a few more days. His grip on you was just as strong, his heartbeat thumping rapidly against your body. There weren't enough words in the English, or Greek dictionary to describe how much you were going to miss him. To miss this day. "Bye Joe." That was it. That was all you could manage. The moment you let go of him felt like a piece of your heart stayed in his arms. There was no way to explain the ache in your chest as you watched him turn away, the pull to stay stronger than any rational thought.

Going to sleep that night sounded impossible. The day had started out so innocent and special and the adventure and emotional rollercoaster you'd been on during the day made it feel like you'd experienced a series of days all wrapped into one. You set your bags down on the ground when you got to your room, too tired to change out of your clothes and falling asleep on top of the covers as soon as you laid down.

The next morning you checked the time on your phone, it was 8am. Joe had told you yesterday he was leaving at 10. That meek little goodbye wasn't going to cut it. You didn't even have his number. After your teeth were brushed and your clothes were changed, you rushed out of your hotel and got in an Uber, on your way to Joe's resort. The 46 minute ride allowed you to come up with everything you wanted to say, how this was only meant to be for a day but maybe it could be more? Maybe you could come see him in Cincinnati or he could come to Berkeley or someway somehow you could figure out a way to make it work.

You thanked your driver, opting to speed walk into the lobby. The person at the front desk couldn't give you access to the room without a reason, even when you gave them the name Joe used for his reservation. Pulling out your phone, you showed her the picture of you and Joe that he took at the pottery place and she finally believed you.

"I'm sorry ma'am, he actually left this morning a bit earlier than planned. He checked out at 7am to get on the plane."

Your chest tightened as the words settled in—he was gone. Just like that, in the span of a few hours, everything had shifted. The chance to say what was left unsaid, the connection you had just begun to explore, all slipped away before you could even hold onto it.

It felt like a dark cloud loomed over you throughout the rest of the day. The sun, once so warm on your skin, now felt distant and cold. The flowers that had seemed so alive that morning now appeared dull, their colors muted, as though even nature understood the weight on your heart. While you ate lunch, you tried to people watch, although you quickly discovered that there were only couples surrounding you, sharing meals and laughing at each other's jokes which made you miss him even more. The only real bright spot of the day was your flower garden excursion, taking pictures of the newly bloomed bulbs and taking in their fresh scent. As the hours passed, you allowed yourself to breathe a little deeper, letting the moments of regret slip away as you focused on the simple joys of your surroundings. The beauty of the flowers, the calm of the gardens, it all reminded you that there was still peace to be found in this unexpected chapter of your life.

You were just beginning to let go of the weight on your chest, convincing yourself that maybe, just maybe, this was how things were meant to be. But as you laid your phone down beside you, the familiar ping of a message broke the stillness.

It was an DM request on Instagram. The message had two simple words.

Carpe diem.

For a second, your heart skipped, and you couldn’t help but smile. That phrase, so simple and yet so loaded with meaning, sent a wave of warmth through you. It was him. In a way, he had left his mark on you after all, even if he wasn’t here to say the words aloud. Maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t the end. And though you didn’t know what tomorrow would bring or if this connection would ever evolve beyond this brief encounter, in that moment, with his words glowing on your screen, you allowed yourself one final thought: Maybe this was only the beginning.

[ceesimz]

chasing a ghost

exactly what you run from, you end up chasing. (angst -> happy ending)

tw- mentions internalised homophobia. it's not intense, but the story is based around it. it has a happy ending though, of course!

Everyone always says your first love sticks with you throughout your whole life. And for you, those words were a haunting truth you could never shake.

No matter how far you went, no matter how many years passed. It still rung true. Your worst fear was that it always would.

The last ten years of your life had been all over the place– literally. After the breakup, you took a gap year, because the pain after it was that intense you felt you had no other option. So, you decided to travel the world with nothing but the bag on your back, looking for an answer to your life that made such a pain worth it– not knowing the thing you were chasing was the exact thing you were running from.

You started in Spain, in Barce- in the city where you fell in love. Though, you haven't returned since you left. 

University was fun, you enjoyed it more than you thought you would. Even more so when you met the love of y- your first love. She was shy, at first. But you caught glimpses of her when she was with her friends in the study hall, when she’d come out of her shell and say something that would have them all laughing until they were shushed. When she would smile so brightly you swore the lights dimmed and a spotlight shone on her, or when she’d always wait behind for the last person in the group to tidy their stuff as the others raced off to wherever they were going next. 

You studied her from afar for weeks, spending more time doing that than studying your actual course, but it paid off when you accidentally, not-so-accidentally, bumped into her one time as she rushed from one lecture hall to the other, and the… football under her arm went tumbling down the hallway. 

A football? You remembered thinking then. Why would someone bring a football to their lecture?

“A football?” You scrunched your nose as you turned to watch the neon orange thing roll out of sight.

“Oh, s-sí. I know it is weird.” She chuckled nervously, her hand rubbing the back of her neck as her eyes darted all over your face, the football the last thing on her mind. “I have training after my next lecture. For football.”

“Well, I think you’re going to be late to your next lecture if you want to get your ball back.” You told her in amusement, hearing the commotion of a group of boys jeering over the sight of such a miraculous object appearing in front of them. 

Alexia’s eyes went wide, jumping off her train of thought and back down onto solid ground, where the aforementioned group of people, that resembled entertained cavemen watching a fire or gorillas cheering at their next meal, still had her beloved ball.

“No! I need that back!” She ran ahead, before halting a moment later when she heard your laugh behind her. So she turned back around, jogged over to you, stumbling over the cartoon love hearts swirling around her mind as she tried to find the words to say, then giggled sheepishly at herself. “Sorry for running into you. I will hopefully see you around.”

“See you around.” You replied, though she was already chasing after her prized possession before you got a chance to say it. The feeling you got after hearing her say ‘hopefully’ was a little embarrassing, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it.

And fortunately for you, you did see her around, quite often actually to the point where you weren’t sure if it was actually a coincidence or not. At one point, it was like the two of you unknowingly formed a routine; you would finish your first lecture at 11:30am, walk as fast as you could over to the other building where your 12pm lecture was and wait for her to arrive for her 11:45 lecture. She would arrive five minutes before she had to go in, and you’d spend that time talking together, laughing, teasing, checking in with each other, until she had to leave. Even still, she would wait until the last second before she’d be classed as late to go in, just so she could talk to you. 

Then, it progressed to meeting her for study sessions together in the library. One day, your friends on your course were somehow all off sick, and her friends were apparently not important to her when she knew you would be alone. So, without too much of a fuss, she quietly and nervously invited you to study with her, where you both spent the whole time trying to study but were actually just too excited about being together one-on-one with nobody else around to get anything done. No chaos of the corridor, no boys trying to take her football, no friends to tease you. The whole time, however, that damn football was there with you, positioned at her feet under the table as she messed with it throughout the duration of the session. 

It was there that you realised studying and education wasn’t her best skill; she was smart, very smart, her mind just seemed a million miles away everytime. All too often you’d have to tell her to concentrate when she had spent too long looking out the window at the football pitch, or you’d quietly scold her for trying to do kick-ups in the library or whenever she tried to nutmeg you when you just wanted to get through the week’s reading assignment. She never cared for grades or essays or quizzes, all she wanted was to play football.

That meant it wasn’t such a surprise to you when, on a random day after the Christmas break, she rushed in to meet you at your infamous spot outside what should have been her 11:45 lecture and, when you told her off for how she was about to be late, she smiled a smug grin and shrugged you off. Then she told you she had dropped out of University like it was nothing, before spinning you around and demanding she walked you to your lecture. She didn’t give you time to scold her like you often did, because she tugged you out of the way of people in the corridor outside the door to your lecture and kissed you, for the first time, out of nowhere, only for her to pull away and kiss your cheek in goodbye as she gently ushered you towards the door. 

You had to thank whatever god was up there that that particular lecture wasn’t too important because you don’t remember a thing about it. All you could think about throughout was the way she had pulled you in, wrapped her arms around your waist, and leaned down to kiss you with such tenderness yet such confidence that you weren’t sure you could ever be the same person again afterwards. For something so small, you felt it changed you, and though it might have been just a kiss, it opened a door for you to a version of yourself you didn’t know existed. 

After that day, you walked around with your head held high, sometimes uncertain if you were walking or skipping since you felt that much joy. You couldn’t view the world around you as ordinary anymore, everything around you seemed more vivid, the smaller things felt more significant and the bigger things less important. That kiss was a spark that ignited something… profound; changing not just your relationship with her, but who you were as a person.

You were on cloud nine with her, the kind of happiness that felt never-ending and all-consuming. That reassured you, especially in moments where you two bickered or felt a little distant as she travelled for football. You were almost certain it’d go on forever.

Every glance, every touch, every word between you, they were all things you cherished. The relationship was something sacred, just for the two of you, and you could have sworn it made your heart soar far from your chest. More often than not, you felt invincible in her company. For the first time in your life, love wasn’t a distant daydream or a wish for the future, it was something real, something that was undeniably yours that no one could take from you. No one but yourself.

Your relationship with her grew and grew, until a year of stolen kisses in the private of your rooms, a year of pinkies linked under dinner tables whilst out with your friends, a year of being just friends to everyone else but the loves of your lives to each other, a year of complete and unconditional love passed without you realising. 

“Ale, where the hell are you taking me?” You giggled, two cold hands covering your eyes as you were led somewhere by your silent girlfriend. Not that you could see, there was a huge grin on her face as she guided you to a place she had been desperate to take you ever since she met you.

“You will find out. Two more seconds, then you see.” It was all going smoothly until she led you a bit too far and you walked head first into… a gate? “Oops, lo siento, mi amor. I did not mean to, I couldn’t see how close we were, your head was in my way.”

“My head was in your way? You i- you’re the one covering my eyes! Pendeja.” You muttered, but then she lifted her hands off your face and you were met with… a football pitch. “Are you kidding me?”

“Happy one year anniversary.” Alexia smiled brightly, not at all phased by the unimpressed look on your face. “You are going to play football with me.”

“Am I really.” You scoffed, taking in the sight of the miserably grey sky and the aftermath of the morning’s rain in the form of a repulsively muddy field.

“You will. What’s that saying? Something… something about, ah, el sentido del humor?” She mumbled, waving one of her hands in the air like the wind would blow the words to her mind as she opened the gate with the other.

“You want me to humour you?” You turned back to her, desperately suppressing a smile at the way her eyes widened and she clapped her hands when you gave her the right turn of phrase.

“Eso mismo! It will be fun, come on.” 

“It’s not even our one year yet, you’re early.” You crossed your arms over your chest in one last show of defiance, when as a matter of fact, you were convinced the minute you saw the excitement on her face.

“I know but it is a year since I kissed you and that’s what started everything.” The brunette girl shrugged, tucking her hands in the pockets of her joggers.

“I think what started everything was me bumping into you when you were running.” Her jaw dropped in a very comedic way then.

“So you did do it on purpose! I knew it!” She exclaimed, walking closer and jabbing an accusing finger into your chest. You stepped backwards and laughed as she shuffled yet closer, moving into your space and pulling you into her for a hug. It was only brief and when she leaned back, her arms still around you, she shook her head in disbelief at your past antics, before softening. “Well, I did think about that date too, but I had a game that day and you had an important presentation so… I decided to do it today.”

You smiled in spite of yourself and left a kiss on her chin.

“And you thought bringing me to play football on a muddy field in the middle of winter was a good idea?” She smirked and nodded, clearly confident in her abilities to convince you.

“I have always wanted you to play it with me but you always say no. But I think, since I was the one that kissed you in the beginning, you should do this for me.” You rolled your eyes and she grinned at you as you did so, her thumbs drawing circles where they’d slipped under your jumper on your hips. “I bought you boots and everything! Also a shirt with your name on it but my number, but it is too cold for that so I left it at home. And, if you do this with me, we can have a shower together after and I wash your hair and give you a massage.”

“I was going to agree anyway but sure, I’ll take that deal.” You told her a moment later after some faux consideration, to which she clicked her tongue in response and lifted you up over her shoulder. “Oh, well, what a lovely view I have here of your- ow!”

But the magic wore off, and the whispers started.

Not from anyone else, from yourself. At first, you ignored them, turning your nose up at them and shrugging them off, thinking they were stupid because of how right it felt to be in her arms. But they were insistent, determined to make an imprint on you and the love you wanted to give. Eventually they did. And the secrecy of your relationship began to feel like a double-edged sword that cut deeper with every passing day. You needed help, needed someone to stop the barrage of insecurities that you never wanted to face, never imagined you’d have to. But it felt like a life and death matter, keeping it a secret. You believed you had no other choice. And voicing these anxieties to her, the very subject of the situation, wasn’t even an option in your mind.

You told yourself it was safer to keep it a secret, to make sure your love was safe from the cruelty of the world and its society, yet with each lie you told and each delusion you convinced yourself of, a piece of your identity was chipped away. She had a front-row seat to every part of you that slipped out of her grasp.

At some point, you even stopped recognising the person you saw in the mirror. What was once a reflection of somebody in love, brimming with hope and excitement for not only the future but for every moment you spent in the present with your girlfriend, soon turned into someone cautious, afraid, who constantly looked over their shoulder. The fear consumed you until it was hard to breathe. And in turn, you found yourself pulling away from others because you couldn’t bear lying to them any longer, whilst also not possessing the strength to tell them the truth. 

If anyone asked that past version of you why you did it, you’d tell them it was to protect both her and yourself. In reality, you knew that was such a pathetic lie. It couldn't even be called an excuse. 

Something that once brought you more fulfillment and happiness than anything else in your life soon felt like a cinder brick chained to your leg, like stones and gravel in your pockets, dragging you down until you were drowning from the expectations you thought were put on you by the world, when they really just your own.

Alexi- she grew antsy and uneasy. You begged to keep it under wraps for just a few more weeks. 

She wanted to tell people; she might have been shy at first glance, but she was the kind of person whose love demanded to be seen, she didn’t survive by keeping it contained to the shadows. Every time she looked at you, her feelings for you were written all over her face – the joy, the pride, the desperation to share her love for you with everyone that mattered. To her, you were something worth sharing with the world. She dreamed of the day she could introduce who you really were to her with her family, her friends, with anyone that would listen.

Initially, she understood why you were hesitant. Like you’d always told her, she was smart. She knew why you were reluctant to tell people, she just had no idea how deep that ‘reluctance’ ran. One of your favourite traits of hers ended up being the beginning of the end; she was exceptionally good at reading people and figuring out what was happening before it had even happened. She saw the way you shrank into yourself when people looked your way, how you would purposely lower your voice when talking about the pair of you. She tried to be patient, but it wasn’t easy. 

Each time she caught herself smiling at you in public, the same smile that made you blush because you could see and feel her love for you, she knew she had to suppress it for your sake. That caused an ache to grow in her chest, the fact she had to dim her own light to quell your worries. Because it wasn’t just the secrecy that hurt, it was the feeling that she wasn’t allowed to love you as wholeheartedly as she wanted to.

Weeks turned into months and she tried to give you your space to work it through, but soon enough she felt like she was in a relationship with a ghost. A shell of a person. And in all honesty, to her, it felt like rejection, even though she knew that wasn’t your intention. However, her assurance in that began to falter. She began to wonder if her love wasn’t enough, if she wasn’t enough. She prided herself on being someone that was confident and sure, but the longer she spent feeling like a bird in a cage, she found herself questioning everything.

Why couldn’t you see what she saw? That your love was worth the risk?

There were more nights than she could count where she spent hours laying awake, the darkness doing little to calm her racing mind. Most of the time, you were sleeping beside her, either cuddled to her side or facing away from her. The times you chose to snuggle up to her were the worst nights, where she didn’t get an ounce of sleep as it was like she could almost feel the fear radiating off of you. It reached a point where she felt trapped between wanting to honour your insecurities and needing to honour her own heart. The longer you rejected the idea of telling people, the more she felt like a secret, something to be hidden rather than openly cherished. 

Though she never wanted to make you feel guilty, there was a loneliness that settled inside of her, and there was a growing distance she felt from you that she had no idea how to bridge without it inevitably ending in one thing.

She never stopped loving you for a second, how could she? But the weight of carrying that love alone eventually became unbearable. As much as she tried to resist that, it was there anyway. It soon led to her feeling like she was losing the person she wanted to be, someone that wanted their love to be visible, that wanted to celebrate it with the people she valued most in her life. So she made a choice.

After that, you couldn’t stay in Barcelona. You couldn't stomach the place any longer when every street corner and every park and every restaurant solely served as a reminder of the good memories that were a thing of the past. Even saying the name of the city sent your head and your heart to a dark place. So did saying her name. 

Back then, you couldn’t figure out who you were; torn between the person you wanted to be and the person you thought you had to be. So you went travelling, to immerse yourself in any and all cultures, to meet new people, to try new things, in the hopes of finding yourself again.

Except, every single word that was exchanged in that final conversation still echoed in your mind no matter where you went.

You sat in cafes halfway across the world and saw her in the steam from your coffee that just so happened to be the same one she used to have every morning. You flew over countless countries and saw her in every stadium you passed by. You saw her in every blade of grass, in every speck of sand, in every sunrise and sunset, before you had to remind yourself that she wasn’t yours to think about anymore.

It had been years, almost a decade, since your first kiss with her, and you could still vividly remember how it played out, how the warmth and the softness of her lips caught you off guard, how she smirked at you after kissing your cheek in goodbye before sending you into your lecture. That spontaneous moment – well, spontaneous for you, for her it had been precariously planned – was some kind of cruel foreshadow that haunted you; it had happened in public, the pair of you could have been open from the very start, the irony of it had never been lost on you. Perhaps the warning signs might have been there from the start. 

“Our first kiss was in public, it was in front of so many people, but now I can’t even smile at you too much when we’re out together.”

“Don’t say that. You’re the one that initiated our first kiss in public, I didn’t.”

“So, what, you would change how it happened?”

“M… maybe, yeah.”

You knew, as soon as you said that last thing, the relationship was over. To this day you still don’t know why you said it, you wouldn’t change a thing about the relationship or her as a person. It was just another example of you being too terrified to be honest with who you were. 

By the time you accepted that it was okay to be who you were, there was only one person you wanted. But by then, that ship had long sailed. You didn’t want anyone, you wanted her. Forcing yourself to believe otherwise felt like carving out a part of your heart. It was almost as hard as having to hear her break up with you over a fear you didn’t even know you had until she ran into your life. As a result, she was long gone, and you didn’t even blame her.

Eventually, you managed to persuade yourself you didn’t want her. It was better that way. And though you weren’t quite whole, you did find yourself through travelling. It just… you still felt like something was missing.

—

Dropping out of University wasn’t ideal, but like most other people that did the same thing, you saw too much beauty in the world on your gap year to be restrained to a 9-5 for the rest of your life. You were fortunate enough to find a company that allowed you to pick up odd jobs here and there of your choosing, in any country of your choosing. It was a dream, you felt free when you weren't ruminating on the events that led you to this point.

Each city you visited became a second home for however long you spent there, though every fleeting connection you made with their locals was a futile attempt to paint over the memories from your past. Nothing could fill the void left behind, but still, you jumped from country to country, telling yourself that planes and hotels and hole-in-the-wall bars were the places you were supposed to be. 

Finding yourself walking home from the closest corner shop to your hotel at the dead of night past one of Sydney’s most well-known clubs, only to stumble across her standing outside its entrance, was the most suffocated and trapped you had felt since the days after you saw her last– nine years ago.

You stopped in your tracks some distance away from her, your eyes locking with hers as she froze, body going rigid at the sight of you. Nothing could have prepared you to see her that night, you really weren’t ready to see her again at all especially with zero warning. Sure, you dreamt of seeing her again, of being back in each other’s lives like no time had passed at all, but actually seeing her was a whole different story. 

You didn’t know what to do.

“I never thought I would see you again.” Alexia, with pink hair and an unnecessarily large gold medal around her neck, stated first. “Qué coño haces aquí?”

The viciousness of her voice caught you off-guard, because throughout your whole relationship including the ending argument, she had never once sounded like that. Though, nine years had passed, maybe she had changed. For the worst.

So, you walked right past her, not in the mood to entertain a fight with an ex. 

“I was talking to you.” She called after you, sounding somewhat shocked you had the audacity to walk past her like she was nothing more than a stranger. But, in this state, she was. It seemed the years had hardened her into someone that was just a stranger. 

“Maybe I don’t want to talk to you.” You fired back as you continued to walk, and you thought that was that. But then you heard the breaking of glass as Alexia dropped her bottle of beer into the nearest bin and followed you.

“You know, it is the least I deserve after how you treated me back then.” She knew exactly the right thing to say to get you to react.

“If you had half a brain and any sense of sympathy, you would know I didn’t do any of it to hurt you.” You fought back, turning to face her and wanting nothing more than to slap the triumphant smirk off of her face. 

“Now that is a lie. How would that make it okay? That the person I love didn’t love me enough to let me tell my family at least?” 

Almost a decade’s worth of anger was being unleashed on you and there was nothing you could do to stop it. You knew you deserved it, but were too riled up in the moment to sit there and take it. So you retaliated, because the woman in front of you was being selfish and too big-headed to see why you did it, and if she still didn’t understand after nine years, it was her own fault.

“Of course I loved you enough, I loved you more than I could ever say. Have you, on the off chance, ever heard of something called anxiety? Ever heard of a thing called fear, and depression, or even just mental health overall?”

When Alexia won her first Champion’s League, you purposely went out of your way to ignore the news, because it seemed after that title her name was never out of it. So, even though her face was all over the newspapers during the summer you spent in London, detailing the severity of her injury and what that meant for Spain’s chances, you didn’t know a thing about it. 

You matched her immaturity, completely unaware of the fact she had just spent the best part of a year out of playing action, during which she had so desperately wished she had you by her side to help her through one of the worst moments of her life. In the first couple months, she had been forced to see a therapist, she had been diagnosed with depression, and what she learnt in those sessions was that all the mental pain she felt then came circling right back to you.

Alexia had thrown herself into football after breaking up with you, seeking refuge in the one thing that had never let her down all her life. But then she tore her ACL, and it had let her down, and suddenly the emptiness of her bed and her chest was the only thing on her mind. There were days where she never left the house, where she didn’t do her stretches, didn’t get up from the sofa to keep her leg moving. There were days where all she thought about was you, and how different things might have been if the two of you weren’t so young back then.

Maybe if she was more patient, you two would have made it, and her gruelling rehab wouldn’t have been so challenging. But she was on her own, she had no one to wake up for in the morning, no shoulder to cry on, no one to reassure her in the middle of the night when she couldn’t sleep that she’d get through this. She just had to get on with it. 

So to see you stood in front of her only mere months after she'd made her return, despite winning the biggest title of her career, it was like she’d finally woken up from the numb headspace she’d been in since the pop in her knee the summer before. Only, the words that came out of her mouth weren’t her true feelings. She had no idea where they were coming from, but they were out before she could stop them. And then it was too late to go back on her words, because by the time she regretted them, you hit back with accusations that stoked the fire that had been extinguished by her progress in therapy. She reverted back to how she felt before her injury, when she still loathed you with every fibre of being, and let out every ounce of pain and fury she had carried with her for years.

However, after you said that, the Barcelona captain came up empty for a reply.

“Times have changed. Things were different then.” You continued on, and it was obvious that too long had passed in the way you couldn't read her face anymore. You completely missed the sorrow and regret on her face, and instead took it for disdain.

“I kno-”

“You don't know a thing.” You laughed maliciously. “You have no idea how I felt or what was going on in my mind. All you did was blame me and run away.”

Just as Alexia had gone to apologise and go back on everything she said, you took things a step further. You were disappointed in yourself for it, but you felt there was no other option but to meet her anger and one-up her, to fight for the last laugh. It was so wrong to address each other in such ways, you both recognised that. Not that it stopped either of you.

“I did not run away, you did. You haven't come home since we broke up and I think that says it all, no?”

“There is no home for me in Barcelona anymore.” Alexia physically recoiled at your statement, and you saw it. You saw the guilt slip away from her eyes and the anger return to them. But it was too late to do anything.

“Well, it looks like it was worth it for the both of us, the breakup. You got to travel and I have the best medal I could get around my neck.” 

Your eyes flicked down to the medal and you read the words on it – Women’s World Cup. It was her biggest dream, you remembered countless times she’d be with you, her eyes with that far away look she often got and a dreamy smile on her face as she thought of her future and all she knew she could achieve, as long as the world and the sport allowed her.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked her one night as you wandered into your bedroom to see her lay in  bed, hands rested under her head as she stared at the ceiling. 

“Football.” She murmured, eyes unmoving, like her entire future was projected on the ceiling in some kind of montage, flickers of trophies and awards passing on by.

“How romantic.” You scoffed, getting into bed beside her and immediately moving to rest your head on her chest with one leg swung across her thighs. “What about football?”

“I am just… excited. There is so much to look forward to.” She whispered in awe, a smile on her face so intense it creased into the corners of her eyes. The sight of it had you smiling too.

“There is.” You sighed contently, before lifting your head up to look at her, and she looked down. “You’ll do such amazing things, Ale. I know you will.”

Somehow, her face softened, and she let out a disbelieving breath as she turned her gaze back to the damn ceiling.

“I hope so.” The midfielder said quietly, as if it was a jinx to speak any louder.

“You will. But you can’t forget me along the way. I want all your medals hung up in our house when we’re older.” Alexia chuckled gently at that, and she leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

“You can have all my medals, you will be right there with me. Me, you, our families. Maybe a family of our own.”

The memory seemed to jump to your minds at the same time, judging by how you met each other’s eyes a moment after you initially looked at the now taunting object that glimmered under the street lamps and city lights around. Her past promise, which had seemed so… eternal and meaningful in that moment, was hardly recognisable. The eyes you stared at weren’t the same either. They were cold and antagonistic, far from the warmth that was once there, the warmth that drew you in in the first place.

It was that revelation that allowed you to continue this animosity.

“Oh yeah? Good for you. I’m sure you and your gold medal will make great kids together.”

“Fuck you. I don’t even know who you are anymore.” 

Alexia knew she’d won with that one; she turned around with a shake of her head and headed back to the club whilst you were rooted to the spot, wondering how everything could go so wrong in a matter of minutes. 

You don’t know who you are either. 

—

That day, in Australia, it wrecked you. Wholly and completely.

It was the nail in the coffin that was your sense of self, because if the one person that never left your thoughts for even a day thought of you like that, then you were lost. Truly lost. 

For nine years, whether you knew it or not, you’d been waiting every day to turn a corner and see her standing there. You imagined walking up to her, tears in your eyes and a smile on your face, an expression she reflected when she opened her arms for you to step into. You’d had her hugs for a year, you’d memorised them well, nine years couldn’t erase that and neither could a lifetime. You would always remember the strength she hugged you with and how secure they made you feel in everything. In yourself, in your life, in your love. But to have that same person tell you they don’t recognise you was an unfathomable heartbreak.

No matter where you went in the time after that, the pain never went away. Ever since you realised you’d never be who you was when you were with Alexia, no matter how many places you travelled or how many people you met, how many jobs you did or how many degrees you could get, you wouldn’t feel as settled and happy without her. And, in fact, with time, the ache in your heart only grew. It ached and groaned in your hollow chest as you dragged it around the world when it called for one place and one place only. Or rather, one person.

But said person had made their dislike clear to you. So that option was more unlikely than it’d ever been before. 

Not impossible, however. 

Because Alexia couldn’t hate herself more for saying so many lies. For being so disgraceful in how she presented herself to someone she still thought so highly of. Most importantly, for making that person think otherwise about her opinion of them.

In the years after she saw you last, when she walked out of your apartment to the sound of your cries behind her, she’d subconsciously searched for you in every person she met. Any habit they had, any slight familiarity in appearance even if it was one freckle in the same place, any similar interests. It was wrong and she knew it was, when she looked back. All the people she hurt, the people who thought they had a chance with her against the idolised version of her first love in her mind, they didn’t deserve her. And after Sydney, she didn’t deserve you either.

When she said those vile things to you, she hoped she would feel some kind of… closure from it. Some kind of catharsis in the fact she could finally close the chapter of her life that had you on her mind all the time. Instead there was just a deep and gnawing disappointment that followed her everywhere she went. From her bed, to training, to her mother’s house – especially her mother’s house, for the wise woman always loved to remind her of what she’d lost – and even to her games as she lined up in the tunnel beforehand.

Her disappointment towards you had dissolved years ago, this disappointment was entirely aimed at herself. She hated how she had let her anger, that she didn’t even feel anymore, overshadow the love that had once defined the both of you. It still did, just in a different and entirely soul-crushing way. The love clung to her heart like a wound that refused to heal, even after all these years.

Ever since she made the hardest decision she had ever had to make, cutting you out of her life, she had spent so much time moving forwards, pushing herself to be stronger, to achieve more, hoping it would erase the memory of you and numb the pain she felt. That failed, however. The only thing she failed at. Seeing you again had broken the dam that stored all her feelings for you and let them flood her mind again. She felt more broken after that confrontation than she had in a long time.

Alexia hadn’t blamed you for some time, and she wasn’t sure why, the second you were in front of her, that she acted like she did. Nobody compared to you and nobody ever would. The fact she made such a horrible comment, one her aggravated self knew would hurt you, did irrevocable things to her view of herself. She never thought she could stoop so low, but she did. She didn’t know how to come back from it.

The version of you she saw that day, the version of you she knew didn’t exist and was only a retaliation to her own hostility, was not the version that stuck in her head the months after that. It was the person she fell in love with when she was only twenty. And it was that version she got when she was getting led out of a bar in Paris, a year after the World Cup, this time with no medal to her name, just a missed penalty.

It was the exact same setup a year onwards, but things were so much different. For starters, you weren’t in Paris for work, you were on a break, and of course the one city in the world you ran to for respite was the same one she was in. However, the sight of two members of security walking out of a bar behind the star you knew Alexia as now was enough concern in itself for you to abandon your friends, who had no idea who the blonde was both as a celebrity and a person of the past to you. Your nerves were fried and you were reluctant to speak to her again, but as soon as you got within two feet of her, you grimaced at how the smell of alcohol radiated off her and knew instantly it was the right thing to do.

“I’ll take her, sorry for… whatever she’s done.” You said to the workers, who rolled their eyes and left you with the drunken mess she was.

“No, you don’t have to take me. You d-don’t deserve to. N-not me.” 

Her words were slurred and there was an overwhelming amount of emotion in her voice. The state of her combined with those two things was enough to convince you this time around with her would be different. Different in what way, you weren’t sure. But she could hardly walk on her own, you couldn’t leave anyone in this way, nevermind someone like her who… still meant so much to you.

“Come on, I’ll take you back to where you’re staying, make sure you get there safe.” You had to be sensible then, and focusing on the softness of her skin when you lifted her arm up around your shoulders and held onto her hand was not sensible. “Do you know your hotel?”

She rattled off some more drunk nonsense until you managed to pick out the name of a hotel in her words as you wrapped your arm around her waist to steady her. Fortunately, it wasn’t too far from where you were. And despite her current state, she was unnervingly silent on the walk there. It wasn’t until you made it to the hotel lobby you chanced a look at her and saw a steady stream of tears down her face. 

When you saw her like that then, it didn’t matter how many years had passed. It upset you to see her cry then as much as it did when you used to be the one she went to in these cases. Yet, in this scenario, you weren’t that person and you didn’t know how to deal with that.

“Hey, do you have your card on you, Ale?” The nickname slipped out of you, and it was a bad move, judging by the cries that came out of her afterwards. “Okay, alright.”

Since you couldn’t get much out of her, you dragged her over to the reception desk, and it took little convincing for them to hand over a spare keycard considering the sobbing mess that Alexia was.

The whole walk to the elevator, you felt helpless as her shoulders shook, torn between wanting to say something and thinking it was best to stay quiet for the time being since you knew you were probably part of the reason she was like she was. The ride up to her floor was even worse; all you could do was stand there, arm around her and hand in hand, listening to the pain pouring out of her. It sent you spiralling, almost, thinking of the years apart where she’d been like this with no one to help her like you were now.

All you wanted to do was wipe away her tears, to embrace her, to tell her everything was okay. But that was entirely unrealistic, because you had no idea where you stood with her and telling someone in her state that everything was okay was entirely meaningless. Seeing her so vulnerable and so wrecked was a reminder of exactly how much she meant to you. 

So, it was in that elevator, you made a split-second decision; from that moment on, you were going to do anything to fix this ridge between you. You had her a year ago but royally screwed up your chance. You had her ten years ago and screwed up that chance too. You weren’t about to let history repeat itself for the third time.

“Here we go, you sit down here, okay? I’ll be back in a minute.” You carefully urged her to sit on the armchair in her room, and she did, but only for about a second. When she saw you walk away from her, she shot up out of her chair, mumbling some rushed Spanish you couldn’t quite make out as she tried to follow wherever you were going. “I’m just getting you some water from the fridge.”

“Don’t go.” She sighed heavily, her eyelids drooping slightly from the alcohol in her system mixed with the overload of emotions from the day she’d had. She sounded wrecked when she spoke, and she looked at you with a desperation that made your heart stop. “Please don’t go. Not… not again.”

You nodded reassuringly, heading back over to her and tentatively taking hold of one of her hands. She immediately brought it up to her lips and kissed your knuckles, some more tears making their way out.

“I’m not going anywhere. Not right now.” You told her quietly, watching as she closed her eyes, maybe in relief, before she slumped back down into the chair. Her head fell back and you heard some more cries from her, but she seemed to be making as much an effort as she could to stifle them. That was perhaps more heartbreaking than the sound of her sobs. “Here you go. Drink some water.”

With shaking hands, she managed to get the bottle open after a few tries, and you sat on the edge of the bed across from her. Some minutes passed by as you gazed at her and she calmed down, and weirdly, it didn’t feel uncomfortable or charged with vitriol like it did last time. Things seemed to be… in the past. Of course, all the emotions and feelings were still there, both of you could sense the elephant in the room and you didn’t dance around it for too long before one of you spoke.

“How… how did we end up like this.” Alexia mumbled. You didn’t have an answer for her. There was too much to say but it didn’t feel like anything could cover it.

“I don’t know.” You whispered back. The blonde tore her eyes away from the label of the water bottle that she messed with and met your gaze. The concerned look on your face made her smile, just for a second. “I really don’t know.”

“I want you to know that I am sorry. For my part in everything.” She rushed out like she was afraid of your reaction, her attention back on the water bottle she’d gotten through half of already.

The apology caught you by surprise. You weren’t sure what you were expecting but it wasn’t that.

“I’m sorry too.” You replied some time after. 

It also caught Alexia by surprise as well, if the way her head snapped up at you and her eyebrows raised and her eyes widened was anything to go by. You smiled shyly at her, only for the hopeful glint in her eyes to cause your breath to hitch in your throat. It was the first time in… well, the first time ever, that you felt this rift could be fixed. She seemed to want the same thing, and you hoped to god that the alcohol in her system wasn’t affecting her clarity.

“Why did you come here? At the bar, why did you help me?” She wondered, her eyebrows pinched together then, seemingly confused.

“Because no matter what’s happened between us, I couldn’t leave you like that. You seemed like you needed help.” You answered initially, before pausing for a second. Alexia nodded for you to continue. “What happened today, Ale? For you to get like this?”

The midfielder huffed, fidgeting in her seat and blinking away yet more tears that tried to fight their way out.

“I… there is a lot on my mind. Has been for a while. And my team, Spain, we were playing an important game today. For an Olympic medal. I…” She frowned, turning her head so that you couldn’t see her face. She seemed ashamed of herself when she spoke again. “I missed a penalty that would have made us level, it would have given us a chance and I… I missed it.”

The bottle dropped to the floor as she covered her face with her hands, her chest heaving as she leaned forwards to rest her elbows on her knees, shoulders shaking again like they did earlier. The sobs leaving her, much like before, were difficult to hear because they sounded like they’d been repressed for far longer than a few hours. Before you could react, though, she was talking again.

“I have missed so many big chances. I missed today. I missed last year with you. I messed up my knee twice. I messed up with you when I broke up with you. I can’t… do anything right.”

As soon as she finished, you were up from your seat and heading over to kneel in front of her. You gently pulled her hands from her face and wrapped your arms around her, encouraging her to do the same as she leaned her forehead against your shoulder. And for a while, the two of you stayed like that. Alexia cried and cried until she exhausted herself, you weren’t sure how long she went on, but you weren’t going to stop her at any point. She needed that more than anything else.

Until she pulled back suddenly and put her hands on your cheeks, cradling them tenderly and stroking her thumbs across your cheekbones. You weren’t expecting it, but… you didn’t stop it either. Even when she leaned down and pressed her forehead against yours.

“So much time has gone by. I haven’t forgotten you, cariño, I told you I never would.” She said, her voice hoarse and hardly there. “I never forgot you, never will.”

You wanted to tell her how you felt, wanted to tell her that hearing her say that was the best thing you’d heard in ten years, wanted to tell her you still loved her. But the time wasn’t right.

“Thank you.” You decided to say, and you saw how her face fell, before she quickly disguised her disappointment and gave a tight-lipped smile instead. “You’re exhausted, Ale. You should go to bed, get some rest. Sleep this off.”

“What will you do?” The fear and the anxiety in her tone then, you knew all too well. It was exactly what you felt back then and the resemblance gave you goosebumps. How things had changed.

“I’ll stay for a little while. As long as you get in bed and try to rest.” 

Thankfully, she did as you said, and no more than ten minutes later, the blonde was under the covers with only the small bedside lamp on so that you could see. She lay on her stomach facing away from where you sat against the headboard beside her, finally having a second to think for yourself and process all that had happened. The thing you landed on first, the main feeling you could identify, was how overwhelmed you felt. You couldn’t think clearly when she was in bed next to you. 

When you thought she was asleep, her breathing even and quiet compared to how she was before when she was worked up, you took a chance and leaned down to leave a kiss on her shoulder. It seemingly went off without a hitch, so with tears of your own forming, you quietly got off the bed and headed towards the door.

“You leaving?” Alexia asked in a half-asleep mumble. When you paused with your hand on the handle, she waited a minute before carrying on. “It’s okay. See you around. Hopefully.” 

—

It was inevitable that you’d end up back here. Back in the city you met her.

After she’d said that phrase to you, the same phrase that really started it all, you knew it was only a matter of time before you saw her again. Because that time in Paris, it had been different. 

If someone asked you why, you would say you weren’t sure. It was a gut feeling, not a certainty. The same gut feeling that took you around the world even though it seemed nothing ever truly surmounted from it. However, in the end, something had. It led you back to Alexia.

After you closed the door to her hotel room behind her once you left, you leaned back against it and put a hand over your mouth to cover your own cries that forced their way out. She was right behind you in the room, she could probably hear you, but you didn’t care. She had apologised and told you she hadn’t forgotten about you. Those two things meant so much more than they seemed to on the surface. 

As you walked down the familiar streets of Barcelona, the past ten years flashed by in a similar way to how people thought your life flashed by before the end. All the anguish, the resentment, the guilt and regret, they strolled right on by. You ignored them and focused on the good. Albeit, there wasn’t much of that, but enough that you felt sure in what you were about to do. This wasn’t the end, this was the beginning again. This was one door closing and another one opening as you entered a cafe you knew like the back of your hand, even a decade on.

She was sat at the same table you always used to sit at. A booth by the window in the back corner. Closed off enough from the other customers with a view of the streets you both walked together in the past. Her hand in yours, hidden in the pocket of her coat. 

Her back was to you as went over, so by the time you got there and went to sit down, she was flustered, standing up out of nerves yet unsure of how to greet you. To put her at ease, you giggled softly, then sat down across from her. She let out a relieved sigh before crossing her arms on the table and taking in the sight of you in front of her. It was the first time she properly had the chance. 

You looked older, ten years had passed so of course you did, but nothing about you had changed that much. You were still the same person she fell in love with and that’s all that mattered to her.

“Hi.” You finally said. 

“Hi.” She replied.

The pair of you shared tearful smiles and one of Alexia’s hands drifted across the table to take one of yours. With her in front of you, the same girl you bumped into at University, and her hand, that was slightly weathered by the years of sports, holding yours, it felt like no time had passed at all.

—

shamelessly inspired by tyler the creator! i had the majority of this done until that anon decided to drop by last night and then that kinda put me off this one but it's whatever! i know this was a bit of a heavy read so i thank you for sticking with it and i hope it was enjoyable nevertheless <3

[emmyrosee]

head empty, only rin loving kisses and being waaaaaaay to proud (shy) to ask for them.

he would love nothing more than to be able to work up the courage to ask you to kiss him, he’s touch starved and needs constant attention, but he’d rather eat rat poison than ever confess it to you. you have the effect on him, you’ve torn down his walls and shown him all the praise and affection he is worth giving, and you’ve turned him into a sucker for kisses.

which is wonderful, since you’re so keen on giving them to him.

terrible when all he wants is a kiss and you don’t notice it.

he’s pacing back and forth in the next room, desperate, craving, needing a kiss or two on his forehead and one on his lips, in a line like you usually do. routine, is how he’d describe it, but deep down, he’ll take anything he can get. his big hands are carding through his hair, and god, he’s thrilled no one is able to see him like this.

“what’re you doing, baby?”

fuck.

except you.

he nearly leaps out of his skin as you make your way to him, and when he whips his head to face you, your brows a furrowed in concern and your arms are crossed over your chest. “you vanished,” you explain. “missed my snuggle buddy.”

“eugh,” he grumbles. “we’ve talked about the nicknames, haven’t we?” he scolds, and you merely chuckle.

“we have, i just choose to not listen to you.”

“and that’s exactly why you’re a pain in the neck.”

then, you shrug, “so im a pain, meanwhile you’re stuck in here waiting for me to come give you a kiss because you can’t ask for it?”

fuck.

he scoffs, but it’s shaky and unconvincing, “yeah right. as if id ever need something as juvenile as a kiss to lure me back. i just needed to stretch is all.”

“yeah, i’ll bet,” you snicker. then you spin on your heel, and rin feels his heart sink, “well, ill be on the couch. waiting for you.”

no, no, no, his chance is walking away from him, literally, disappearing down the hall and leaving him a yearning mess, pining for your affection that he’s just not sure how to ask for.

his head drops in disappointment, fists balling slightly, and he pouts softly like a child as he wracks his mind to try and work up the courage to go. he’s pathetic, can’t even ask for affection from his own partner, someone he sleeps next to at night and lets smear a green, cold face mask on him, someone he’s so in love with they turn him into a damn petulant child at the lack of attention, and-

“hey,” you whisper. he looks at you through his lashes, embarrassed.

you smile and toss your arms around his neck, rising up slightly to press a kiss to the apple of his cheek. his eyes blow open. then, you kiss his nose gently. his lips twitch. you plant your lips on the ticklish spot on his neck, and he jerks slightly. you giggle.

“oh, you’re so cute i can’t stand it,” you purr, kissing the other side of his cheek. “i just love loving you.” you press a kiss to his chin, and by now he’s smiling shyly, cheeks blazed in red from embarrassment and excitement for the attention he’s finally receiving. “i could just eat you up, you’re so cute.” you kiss the corner of his eye, which flutters shut in ease. “i can’t not kiss you, it’s against the law.”

finally, stiffly, his arms wrap around your waist, “who would you be to break the law?”

“i would never,” you hum, moving your hands to gently cup his cheeks, forcing him to meet your gaze. his eyes practically have little hearts in them, and a wobbly smirk is on his lips. “you want some more?”

his eyes widen again. you shush him softly, thumbs stroking over the swells of his cheeks, “just nod or shake your head, my lovey boy.”

against his own determination of ‘not needing’ your attention, he finds himself nodding in your hands, butterflies in his stomach going crazy as you smile back and continue to press kisses over his face, voice dripping with honey with every adoring coo you offer him.

[gothicfied]

Hey, i love your writing. I was wondering if you could do a Dae-ho fic where the reader is apart of his group (with gi-hun and stuff) but used to date Thanos, who is trying to win her back. She asks the boys to help stop her from going back to him cause she can;' help but want to. Later dae ho asks why she dated thanos cause he was toxic and she admits she feels she doesn't deserve better. Dae ho confesses and promises that he will give her better. I don't know if this makes sense, but thanks :)

Why can't I let go? - Kang Dae-ho / Player 388

Pairing: Kang Dae-ho / Player 388 x fem!reader (maybe slight Thanos x reader)

Summary: Seeing your ex months after your break up made you question things again, but Dae-ho gave you a reason not to go back to him.

Warnings: Mentions of death/dying, gunshots (typical squid game stuff), other than that it's just fluff, not proof read (english isn't my first language)

Word count: ~ 1.6k

A/N: hi and thank you sm!! I hope this comes close to what you had in mind (:

What made being in this slaughter house even worse for you, besides the fact that you had to worry about dying every few seconds, was the fact that your literal ex boyfriend somehow also ended up here. Well, actually, you knew exactly why Thanos, as he liked to call himself now, entered the games as well — Not only did he basically bankrupt himself with investing in that stupid crypto currency, no, he took most of your savings too and created unnecessary money problems for you. That was obviously the break-up-reason, although he just wasn't the best boyfriend over all.

His presence already pissed you off when spotting him in the crowd after initially waking up in that uncomfortable bunk bed. Thanos only spotted you when walking up the weird, colorful stairs to the first game. Pushing other players to the side, he made his way up to you and tapped you on the shoulder, non-stop apologizing for what he had done to you. It has been like that since you broke things off with him, but you made the effort to block him on everything and simply not answer the door when he came by every now and then to win you back.

Thanos was annoying and dangerous, as it showed itself in Red-Light-Green-Light. Not only was he a junkie, he was also seemingly ready to sacrifice the life of other people for his own benefit. At first, when Player 456 yelled out that everyone who got 'disqualified' would essentially get shot, you didn't want to believe him. Even Thanos leaned over to you, much to your annoyance, and said "What the fuck is this guy on?". He's one to talk, huh. In the end, when Player 456 was right, you immediately took his advice and voted 'X' during the first voting.

"Thanks for saving us back there." you said to Player 456, hesitantly approaching him and his friend, Player 390. They introduced themselves as Gi-hun and Jung-bae, inviting you to sit down and eat with them. A few moments later another young man dropped down from his bed and agreed with you, also claiming that how Gi-hun acted was heroic. "Why'd you vote like that then?" you asked Dae-ho after he sat down next to you, pointing at the blue badge upon his chest. "Ah, you know," feeling like he got caught, he kept looking away from your eyes, "the money now is not nearly enough to pay off my debts. But, don't worry, I'll definitely vote different next time!" You guys continued talking and even laughing a bit, telling each other about your life outside of here.

You, alongside Jung-bae, found out that he was a marine. Both were actually, immediately finding common ground. Watching them joke around with each other, you couldn't help but smile — Which stopped as soon as you looked to the other side, to the people who voted 'O', and spotted Thanos staring at you. He was clearly not happy with how you voted or the fact that another man made you laugh, even though you only met him a few minutes ago. That's just how Thanos is, you feared: always jealous about someone, worried you're going to cheat on him, but would then flirt with his female fans in the same breath. He always claimed it was because they were his fans and they loved to feel like he was reachable, but that was never a justification for you.

For some reason, that you didn't pay attention to, a little fight between the two sides broke out, and Thanos thought this was the best time to drag you away from all that and talk with you. You saw him stand up and approach you, to which you already shook your head, but when he grabbed your arm and just took you with him, you couldn't do much. "Why would you do that?" he asked you, his eyes staring into yours. "What? What did I do now? Can't you just leave me alone?" You crossed your arms in front if your chest and just looked down at your feet, because, if you were being honest with yourself, when your ex boyfriend looked at you like that.. it kind of did something to you. Perhaps regret your decision.

"Baby, seriously?"

"Don't fucking call me that."

"Come on, I know you love it, princess.."

"Get to the point."

You were annoyed, agitated, but somehow still wanted to hear what he had to say. Thanos huffed, furrowing his eyebrows. "Why did you vote like that? If we play just two more games, we could pay off our debts and maybe.. try again?" He grabbed you by your shoulders, shaking you a little so you'd look up at him again. When that didn't work, he wrapped his arms around your waist and tried to pull you close, but that was your breaking point. Forcefully, you ripped yourself out of his grasp and started walking back to your group again: "Don't even start with that. You ruined my life."

In a twisted way, you felt bad. His proposal almost, almost, made you give in. It was just nice to see a familiar face and hear a familiar voice in this environment, it brought you comfort to know that there was someone you shared so many special memories with that you could turn to. And, you would, just if it wasn't Choi Su-bong. "Is everything okay? Was he giving you trouble?" Jung-bae asked, looking like he was ready to fight him. Actually, he was probably ready to fight everyone who voted 'O'. "No.. no, I'm okay." Without another word you sat back down next to Dae-ho, picking away at your fingernails.

"Who is he?"

"What?"

"That guy.. who is he?"

"To me? My ex boyfriend."

The man let out an 'aha', just nodding along. When he looked at Thanos and then back to you, he couldn't really believe it — That purple-haired guy was almost the complete opposite of you. You were pretty, seemed to be kind and gentle and Thanos was just kind of.. Dae-ho would say you're way out of his league. "If he's bothering you, just tell me, okay? I'll take care of it." You looked at the former marine, giving him a smile when noticing that he was serious about that. You thanked him quickly and looked away, feeling your cheeks heat up slightly.

After surviving the second game together, Dae-ho and you have gotten closer incredibly fast. He was mesmerized by you, to say the least, and you appreciated that you had someone to rely on at all times. That still didn't stop Thanos from perusing you, though, it actually was the complete opposite. A few minutes before lights out he tried to talk to you again, following you to your bed, which was right behind Dae-ho's. The two of you slept head to head together, only a metal bar separating the beds.

"Please.. just listen to me! I miss you.. I swear, I'll vote 'X' the next time!" Thanos' annoying voice rang through your ears and no matter how often you told him to leave you alone, he didn't want to understand it. At some point he got annoyed and just walked off himself, sighing and planning to try again next day. With a quiet groan, you let your head fall back against your pillow, Dae-ho watching you the whole time from his side. He felt like it wasn't his place to continue to ask you about the situation when you didn't bring it up yourself, but he was still curios as to why you'd ever be with that guy.

"Hey, are you okay? Do you need me to say something to him next time?"

"No.. It's fine, I can handle it. It's just- complicated, that's all." You were tired, your mind was reeling — People dying was stressful enough and now you had to handle your immature and manipulative ex boyfriend as well. "You don't have to answer this but," Dae-ho tucked some of his hair behind his ears, sitting up so he could properly look at you, "why did you date him? You're too good for him." His little comment made you chuckle, even though he was right and it probably wasn't all that funny. "I don't know.. to be honest, at that time I just felt like I didn't deserve any better."

Dae-ho was appalled by your words, his face scrunching up. How could you even talk about yourself like that? "You do deserve better. You deserve the world." His tone wasn't angry, but definitely a lot firmer than before, showing you that he actually meant what he said. "What?" you asked him, also slowly sitting up now. "I'm serious, you're kind and smart and deserve a better life, a better boyfriend." His words made your heart beat a little faster.

"He doesn't deserve you. I would treat you be-" As soon as Dae-ho noticed what he just said himself, he immediately stopped talking, looking at you with wide eyes. "You would treat me better?" Your voice was laced with amusement, maybe teasing him a little now. That question made him stutter a quiet 'Yeah..' and it was clear how taken aback Dae-ho was from his own words. He didn't want you to know, at least not now. He knew this wasn't an ideal place to develop a crush on a girl he could lose in an instant, but he couldn't control his feelings now, could he?

"A lot better even."

"Then show me.."

[6ronze]

YOU MUST BE HAUNTING ME

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : childhood friends, ZAYNE and CALEB + fem!reader 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 : nsfw, MDNI [18+ only], pure filth ahead !! -> threesome (mfm), groping, possessive/competitive bffs, double créámpîé, mástúřbatîoń, bóób obsessed zayne, manhandling, no plot, not proofread wordcount. 1.3k (written out of guilt for zayne, my husband)

𝓐𝓝 𝓤𝓝𝓔𝓧𝓟𝓔𝓒𝓣𝓔𝓓 𝓡𝓔𝓤𝓝𝓘𝓞𝓝 brings this trio to a breaking point where their intense feelings are finally spilled free. They have no problem expressing those feelings wholeheartedly, but will you be able to handle the extent of their passion?

The tension between the two men in your apartment had reached a nearly un bearable point. As if it wasn’t enough that it was raining outside, their shared glares only ramped the unease you felt being between these two domineering men. How you longed for them to get along as they used to before things got complicated. But you couldn’t exactly complain now could you? With all of their undivided atttention focused solely on you, uncaring for their surroundings.

Sandwiched between hard planes of their chest, you hold on tight to whoever’s shoulder was at closest to your side all the while caleb’s stammered chuckles filled your ears from behind you on the bed, hoarse voice of his interrupted by the moans that escape his lips whenever his weeping slit made contact with your entrance, threatening to nudge into your warm heat. And the pilot had never been so tempted to do so, barely able to rein his hips back from plunging his throbbing cock deep your pussy, letting the other man holding and groping your body on the other side writhe in his position, forced to watch caleb take you first. But caleb was a man with a shred of honour left for his old companion, settling for frantic grinds against your bare slick folds over your drenched panties.

“You know, I would be balls deep buried inside your sweet pussy by now if you hadn’t called him over,” caleb murmured hotly by your ear, taking the opportunity to nip onto it, tongue running over your sensitive skin with a rumble the erupted from his chest, hip bucking further into the narrow opening between your legs. “Shut up, I didn’t call him over..” You could barely utter a coherent word with how warm your entire body felt, feeling it affect your mind in the process. While caleb was unrelenting, zayne was holding your close while you laid on your side, head burrowed between the swell of your breasts to mark on your chest with soothing laves of his tongue.

The black haired man’s glasses were long discarded, but if he were wearing them right now, the lenses would be covered with steam produced by his heavy pants. As composed zayne seemed to be about you, he was an utter mess with his cock in his hand, looking pathetic and depraved for the salty sweet taste of your sweat sheened skin which he had earlier dirtied with a heavy spill of his cum, aware of the lewd shlicks he made with every stroke of his fat cock. With how absorbed he was with chasing his second high, all provocations by caleb could be ignored for now.

During the impatient glides of calebs dick beneath your panties, you made a yelp when his hand slid under your thigh to lift it up, explosing your dripping cunt to the cool air of the room. “I need to have you, sweetheart, I’m sorry,” he muttered quickly without a hint of remorse before shifting himself to an angle so the head of his cock delved past your puffy folds and notch itself into your entrace, giving one brutal thrust to bury himself into your heat to the hilt. “For fuck’s sake, why do you feel so good,” he grunted with a whine, eyes fluttering closed as he willed them to stay in place and not roll back at the feeling of your tight pussy clenching around him like a silken vice. Unable to restrain himself any longer, his hips rolled back and forth to fuck himself in and out of your pussy, balls slapping against your clit with each respective plunge in his attempt to bully your g-spot, earning a sob like moan from your drooling lips.

“C-caleb, too hard—!” You whimpered pitifully with your head planted deeply into the pillow beneath your head, feeling utterly boneless at the onslaught pleasure zayne and caleb were giving you. Speaking about zayne, the surgeon was still deeply captivated by your tits, one hand groping and fondling you to no end with teasing tugs on your tortured nipples while the other which was wrapped tight around his painfully erect cock stuttered and quickened its pace when he watched caleb abuse your insides, the erotic slaps of skin against skin not missed by his ears. “You’re too vulgar, my love.. I can barely find it in me to discipline you,” zayne uttered with stuggling pants, his drawn out groans mingling with his uneven breathing. He bucked his hips forward until his cock touched your lower belly, rubbing the underside on your cum stained skin with gritted teeth as he braced himself for his impending orgasm, knowing it had to be on you, inside you, he didn’t care. As long as it was you.

Caleb on the otherhand, too, was at the brink of ecstasy, balls drawn up tight with his thrusts growing more and more frantic with his desperation to finish inside you and bring you to climax as well. It didn’t take long since the guttural moan he made came in tow with the snap of the tight knot in lower belly, his swollen cock pumping jet after jet of semen deep into your tight channel, making sure he painted every crevice with his scent with the shallow thrusts he made to ride out his orgasm. You held on tight to the sheets of the bed, tugging zayne closer to your heaving chest as you cried out, profanities leaving your lips along with caleb’s name like a slurred mantra.

Unfortunately for you, zayne took notice of caleb’s fading orgasm, taking in the subtle twitches of his body as he drifted to bask in the afterglow, softening cock still nestled deep in your filled pussy. With a frustrated grunt, he released his grip on his aching cock to grab onto your hip, pulling you off caleb’s dick with an audible schlop, string of cum connecting you slit to caleb’s tip until it snapped. “What’re you doing?” You spoke with a tremble, zayne’s sudden lift of your body startling you back to reality, your panties tugged off and discarded. You watched with panicky flickers of your eyes, anticipating what zayne had in plan for you. But without giving you a moment to register, his strong hand held firm on your hip rolled your entire body along with his, positioning you on top of him. Without second thought, zayne aligned the bulbous head of his cock against your entrance, making little work of pushing you down his girthy length, your name leaving his lips in a low moan, trembling ever so slightly.

“I want to cum inside you, darling, forgive me.” Zayne held your hips in place before beginning to thrust up into you, hips rolling in quick shallow plunges of his pulsating cock, swollen and ready to burst at any time. His balls met your ass cheeks in audible slaps akin to the sound caleb made when he had his turn on your cunt, the sudden stretch of your walls bringing you to edge of pleasure for nth time as your held yourself up on zayne’s chest, meeting his thrusts with half-hearted motions. But fuck, it was enough to make the doctor come to an abrupt halt to fill you up with scorching hot fluids of his cum, fingers buried so tight into your flesh it was certain bruises would bloom the morning after and yet of course, neither of the three of you could care less at the moment.

[diaryofawhoretbh]

Hi could u do thanos x preg reader playing the games basically just like 222 n 333 so hear me out.. imagine we befriend 222 :3 n were basically talking ab our pregnancies (however u write it help) and ab baby stuff then topic of baby daddies comes around and 222 mentions that her baby daddy is here n we r like no way ours is too and we decide to meet near bunks w our baby daddies n when thanos n 333 see each other they r like no way and 222 and we have to hold them back from fighting. So we and 222 force them to get along bc 222 and we are close so why shouldnt they be too

love this request so much!!! i hope i did your idea justice 🫡🫡 i tried to write this quickly. pls let me know if this isn't what you wanted.thank you for requesting, enjoyyy!!

NOT proof-read, sorry!!!!

fine line | thanos (choi su-bong)

the barracks were quiet, save for the soft murmur of other players trying to get some rest. you sat on your bunk, legs stretched out in front of you, feeling the familiar weight of your belly.

jun-hee, player 222, sat next to you, her hand resting on her own swollen stomach. it felt strange, being surrounded by danger and fear, yet finding a kind of peace in talking about the one thing that kept you both going: the babies.

“i can’t believe we’re both pregnant in here,” jun-hee said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “i always thought the world would be different by now, but… i guess this is just how life works out, huh?”

you smiled, nodding. “yeah. it’s crazy. but honestly, it’s kinda the only reason i’m still here. these little ones, they’re everything.”

junhee rubbed her belly gently, a soft smile on her lips. “same here. i didn’t expect this kind of life, but it’s like… being a mom now, it’s like i have something bigger to fight for.”

you let out a soft laugh. “i get you. even in a place like this, we’ve still got our kids to think about.”

jun-hee looked over at you, suddenly more playful. “speaking of kids, i’ve got to tell you something. my baby daddy is here too.”

you raised an eyebrow. “wait, really? no way. who?”

junhee’s eyes sparkled with a mischievous grin. “player 333. you know him as myung-gi.”

you blinked, then let out a low whistle. “myung-gi? as in that coinmg guy?”

jun-hee nodded, not even a little ashamed. “yep. crazy, right?”

you let out a laugh, a bit of disbelief in your voice. “wow, that’s... that’s wild.” you leaned back, looking at her with a grin. “your baby daddy is the reason me and my baby daddy are in debt."

junhee’s eyes widened slightly. “i apologise on his behalf... but wait, is your baby daddy here too? no way.”

you nodded, your grin growing bigger. “yep. he is. and… trust me, it’s not who you’d expect.”

jun-hee tilted her head, curious. “who is it, then?”

you leaned in a little, lowering your voice as though sharing a secret. “it’s su-bong...ah sorry thanos.”

jun-hee’s eyes almost popped out of her head. “what? no way. you’re telling me that your baby daddy is thanos?”

you shrugged nonchalantly. “yeah, believe it or not. crazy, huh?”

jun-hee shook her head, unable to suppress a laugh. “this is... way too much. okay, okay, we need to meet by the bunks. i want to see this. you and me, we’ll introduce them to each other.”

you raised an eyebrow, feeling a little hesitant. “you think that’s a good idea? i mean, myung-gi and su-bong don’t exactly… get along.”

jun-hee smirked. “it’s gonna be fine. trust me. they’re both here for the same reason now. i’m sure they can at least pretend to get along. for the sake of us, and our babies.”

you were still nervous, but the excitement was enough to push you forward. “okay, fine. let’s do it.”

the two of you carefully stood up, waddling over toward the area where the men were usually hanging out. you spotted su-bong in the corner, his large frame looming over the other players, while myung-gi was off to the side, doing his own thing.

as you and jun-hee dragged each man to the agreed meeting spot, both men’s eyes immediately flicked toward you. there was a sharp tension in the air as they both realized who the other was. myung-gi’s brow furrowed, and su-bong’s fists clenched at his sides.

jun-hee crossed her arms, giving you a look. “this is gonna be fun.”

you took a deep breath. “fun? more like intense.”

before you could do anything, both men started toward each other, their bodies tense and ready for a fight. su-bong’s deep voice was the first to break the silence.

“you,” he muttered, eyes narrowed. “what are you doing here?”

myung-gi sneered, taking a step closer. “don’t act like you’re in charge here. you think you can just walk around like you own the place?”

jun-hee quickly stepped in between them, arms raised. “hey! no fighting. not now, not here. we’re pregnant, okay? we’re trying to make it out of here alive, and you two are gonna work it out.”

you added, stepping up beside her. “yeah. no more fighting. our kids need us to be smart. we’re in this together.”

the two men stared at each other for a long moment, tension thick in the air. but as the seconds ticked by, something in their eyes softened—just slightly.

jun-hee, ever the mediator, was the first to break the silence. “come on, guys. we’re both in this for the same reason. for our kids. so, no more petty grudges. can you just... act like adults for once?”

you nodded, giving them a pointed look. “we have to work together. for them. our little ones deserve a chance.”

su-bong let out a frustrated sigh but nodded slowly, his fists unclenching. “fine. for the babies.”

myung-gi gave him a long, hard look before exhaling sharply. “yeah, fine. but don’t think this means we’re friends.”

jun-hee raised an eyebrow, her voice light. “we’re not asking for that. just... can we at least get through this without tearing each other apart?”

the two men exchanged a last heated glance before reluctantly stepping back. you and jun-hee gave each other a silent nod of approval.

“alright,” jun-hee said, her tone softening. “that’s a start. we can make this work.”

you smiled, feeling a little lighter now that the tension had eased, even if just for a moment. the road ahead was still long, but maybe, just maybe, with a little teamwork, you could all make it out of here—alive and with your babies.

[th3mrskory]

Unspoken Desires

Pairing: fem!Reader x Old Man!Logan

Warning: 18+ MDNI, SMUT,explicit language, coercion (if you squint), oral (male/female receiving), handjob, fingering, unprotected p in v, missionary, doggy style, anal play, creampie.

Summary: Y/N is always the one taking care of everyone, but tonight Logan decides it’s her turn to let go. Rough, tender, and unapologetically intense, he’ll make sure she doesn’t forget who’s in charge—or how good it feels to be taken care of for once.

Word count: 5.6k

A/N: As @coocoocachewgotscrewed so brilliantly put it, 'As the girl that takes care of everyone: SOMEONE TAKE CARE OF ME.' And that’s how this little fic came to life.

© th3mrskory. don’t copy, translate, or use my works in any form with AI, ChatGPT or any other automated tools. I only share my stories here, so if you see them posted elsewhere, i’d appreciate it if you let me know.

The world had never been kind to her softness. In her youth, she'd learned early that the only way to survive was to take up space, to become a force others couldn't ignore, even if they didn't understand it. She had built walls from the ground up, stone by stone until they formed a fortress no one could breach. She had everything together—mostly. She had to. People depended on her and needed her strength to carry them through the chaos of life, so she did. She carried it all. Always.

But there were moments—quiet moments, when the world was still—when the weight of it all pressed against her chest, relentless. The loneliness in her veins. The unspoken ache buried deep within her ribs.

She never asked for help. She didn't need it. Her hands were too used to giving. And when she laughed, when she made jokes about being single—"Men want to be babied. I don't have time to raise a child."—it was easier to mask the truth. It was easier to hide the hunger that lingered beneath her words. The hunger for something she couldn't name, something too soft to fit into the life she'd built.

It was supposed to be just another day, another task, another moment in the long string of motions she went through without thought. But then she saw him—Logan, standing there with that quiet, raw strength of his. The way he didn't try to impress anyone, didn't need to, because the power in him was as much in his silence as it was in his actions. There was no pretense. No façade.

And she hated that it drew her in. 

She hated how much she wanted him—him, the one man who wouldn't cower in her presence, the one who wouldn't need her to be anything other than exactly what she was.

She noticed him more these days, more than she cared to admit. She tried to bury the thoughts, to ignore the way her heart would quicken whenever he was near, the way her body seemed to ache for something it didn't know how to name.

Logan saw it, though. He always did. The way she wore that strength-like armor. But he'd spent enough time with it to know what armor looked like—he knew what it meant to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders and never let anyone see how heavy it was.

He didn't pity her. Hell, he admired her more than anyone he'd ever known. But he saw the cracks. The storm churned behind her eyes. The way she pulled away just when things might have gotten too real, too close. 

She never let anyone in.

But he wasn't afraid of it. Not of her. Not of that ferocity.

And so, on that night, after a thousand little things had piled up until there was no room left for her to breathe, it came out.

Her words were sharp, and cutting, but they were the truth. The raw, jagged truth that she never allowed to be spoken. She was tired of pretending. Tired of holding the world together when no one saw her crumble beneath it.

"What, you think I don't need help? You think I like doing everything myself?" Her voice trembled only slightly, a crack in the fortress that she had so carefully built.

He didn't flinch. Didn't back away. He'd seen that wall before, and he didn't fear it.

He only stepped closer, his presence as solid as the ground beneath them.

"I think you're too damn stubborn to ask for it," he said, his voice low, but the understanding in it was enough to make her heart catch in her throat.

For a moment, the world paused. The storm inside her stilled, and she saw it—really saw it for the first time. He wasn't afraid of her strength. He didn't want to tear it down. He just wanted to be there, beside her, when it all became too much to bear.

He didn't need to fix her. He didn't need to save her.

He just needed to let her be.

Let her lean into him. Let her rest.

Her breath caught as she stepped toward him, her hands trembling, unsure but desperate. For once, she wasn't the one giving. For once, she could be held, could be taken care of. 

Logan's hands were steady, as they always were, but now, they weren't just offering strength. They were offering safety—something she hadn't realized she'd been searching for all along. 

"Hey," he whispered, his voice low, soothing. "You don't have to be strong all the time. You're allowed to let it out." 

The words broke something inside her. Heat prickled behind her eyes, and her chest heaved with the weight of everything she'd kept buried. 

Logan didn't move. He didn't push. He just let her cry, his hand resting firm and comforting on her back, his presence solid as the ground beneath her. 

"Y/N..." His voice was softer now, laced with something she couldn't quite place. Gently, his hands cupped her face, his thumbs brushing away her tears with a tenderness that made her knees weak. 

"You don't have to carry it all, bub. Let me in, just this once." 

Her hands shook as she pressed them to his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her fingertips. Grounding her. And when she rubbed her cheek against his palm, the motion instinctive, something inside her gave way. 

Her eyes fell to his lips. The urge to kiss him became impossible to ignore. 

He leaned down, brushing his lips against her forehead, but then he paused, his gaze locking with hers. 

She couldn't stop herself. She leaned in, kissing him hard, desperate for the release, the comfort, the closeness. It was a kiss that broke everything wide open—a kiss that held the weight of everything they'd both been holding back. 

The kiss deepened, the world narrowing to the warmth of his lips and the solid strength of his hands still cradling her face. She felt the tension in her chest unravel, replaced by a need that clawed at her, desperate and all-consuming.

Logan didn't rush. He never did. His hands slid down, slow and deliberate, tracing over her arms until his fingers wrapped around her wrists. He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, his breath hot against her lips.

"No walls. No fightin'. Just let me.", he murmured, his voice gravelly and sure, sending a shiver down her spine. The words hit her like a hammer, shattering the last of her defenses. She wasn't used to this, wasn't used to handing over the reins, but with Logan, it felt...safe. Right.

Her pulse thundered as she nodded, the tiniest of movements, but it was enough for him.

Logan's lips curved into a faint, knowing smile before he kissed her again, deeper this time, his hands guiding hers up and over her head. Her fingers curled instinctively as he pinned her wrists against the wall behind her, the roughness of the surface contrasting with the gentleness of his touch.

"Just let me make you feel good," he said, his voice low and commanding. She exhaled shakily, her head tilting back as his mouth moved to her neck, teeth scraping lightly against her skin before his tongue soothed the spot. Her body arched into him, her hips pressing forward, seeking more, needing more.

"Logan..." Her voice was barely above a whisper, a plea wrapped in the sound of his name.

He hummed against her throat, one hand still holding her wrists in place while the other traveled down her side, his fingers skimming over the curve of her hip. "That's it," he rumbled. "Let me hear you."

Each touch, each kiss, stripped away the layers she'd built to protect herself. She wasn't in control anymore—not of her body, not of her mind, not of the way she melted beneath him. And for once, she didn't care.

Logan moved with a precision that left her breathless, his hand slipping beneath her shirt, rough fingertips tracing the softness of her skin. He paused just below her ribs, his eyes flicking up to hers.

"Say it, darlin'," he coaxed. "Say you'll let me have you."

Her lips parted, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. "I'm yours."

And that was all it took.

His hands, calloused and strong, gripped her thighs, hoisting her up with an ease that sent a shiver racing down her spine. She gasped, clinging to his shoulders as her body pressed tightly against his.

"Where's your bedroom?" he growled against her ear, his voice low, gravelly, and filled with the kind of raw command that made her knees weak, though she wasn't even standing.

"End of the hall," she whispered, the words trembling out of her as his teeth grazed her earlobe, a low hum rumbling deep in his chest.

"Good girl," he murmured, the praise almost too rough to feel soft, and yet it sent heat pooling low in her stomach.

He moved through her place with purposeful strides, each step a reminder of the strength coiled in his body. She felt the steady rhythm of his breathing against her chest, the way his arms tightened around her as if he dared anything or anyone to take her from him.

When they reached her bedroom, Logan kicked the door open without hesitation, the force behind it making it swing back against the wall. The dim light from the hallway framed his silhouette—broad shoulders, wild hair, and eyes that burned as he looked down at her.

The room felt smaller with him in it, his presence overwhelming, and consuming. He didn't glance around, didn't make a single remark. His focus was entirely on her as if the world beyond her didn't exist.

"On the bed," he rasped, his voice cutting through the thick silence.

Before she could even process his words, he was lowering her onto the mattress, her back meeting the cool sheets as his hands lingered, pressing her down as he needed her to stay right where she was.

"Logan—"

"Quiet." The single word was sharp and commanding, and it sent a jolt of heat through her.

His eyes roved over her, dark and smoldering, drinking her in as though he was committing every inch of her to memory. One knee pressed into the mattress beside her, his weight shifting as he leaned closer, his hands bracketing her head.

"Spent your whole damn life holdin' everything together," he muttered his tone a mix of frustration and something darker. "Not tonight. Tonight, you're mine."

Her lips parted, but no sound came out, just a sharp intake of breath as he tilted her chin up with his thumb, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"I'm not askin', darlin'." His voice dropped to a growl, sending a shudder down her spine.

Her heart thundered in her chest as his lips claimed hers again, rough and unrelenting, his teeth nipping at her bottom lip just enough to make her gasp. The sound made his grip tighten, his hands sliding down her sides slowly as if savoring the way her body responded to him.

"You don't have to be strong tonight," he murmured against her lips, his voice softer now, though no less commanding. "Let me carry it. Let me carry you."

Her resolve cracked beneath the weight of his words, her body trembling as her hands found his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his dress shirt. For once, she didn't fight. She didn't resist.

She just let go.

Logan's eyes never left hers as he straightened, standing tall above her. His hands were steady as he reached for the hem of her shirt. The air between them felt charged, and heavy, like the moment before a storm.

"Arms up," he commanded, his voice low and rough, leaving no room for hesitation.

She obeyed without a word, raising her arms as he gripped the fabric, his knuckles brushing against her sides. He pulled the shirt up slowly, dragging the material over her skin with a sensuality that made her shiver. The shirt caught for a moment, tangled in her hair, and Logan let out a low chuckle, dark and throaty.

"Relax," he muttered, his voice softer now as he freed her, his fingers lingering against her temple, brushing stray strands away from her face.

The shirt dropped to the floor with a quiet rustle, forgotten the second it left his hand. His gaze roamed over her now-bare skin, unhurried and scorching, like he wanted to memorize every curve, every scar, every inch of her that she'd never let anyone else see.

"You're beautiful," he said, the words rough and quiet as if they weren't meant for her to hear, but they landed with the force of a confession.

Her cheeks burned under his scrutiny, but there was no hiding from him. He stepped closer, his hands moving to the waistband of her jeans. His fingers brushed her skin, calloused and warm, and she bit back a gasp as he popped the button with ease.

"Look at me," he ordered, his tone low but firm.

Her eyes met his, and the intensity in his gaze made her breath hitch. He was utterly focused as if she were the only thing that mattered in the world. Slowly, he slid the zipper down, the sound loud in the quiet room.

"Lift your hips," he murmured, his hands curling around the waistband, tugging the denim down with maddening slowness.

She shifted, doing as he asked, and he peeled the jeans away, dragging them down her legs. His fingers brushed her calves, and her ankles before the fabric joined her shirt on the floor. The air felt colder now, her skin hypersensitive to every little movement, every little touch.

Logan's eyes raked over her, his expression dark and unreadable. Then he reached out, his hands gripping her ankles, his thumbs running along the delicate bone there. He tugged her toward him, pulling her to the edge of the bed with a strength that made her stomach flip.

"You have no idea what you do to me," he growled, his voice ragged, laced with something almost feral.

Her heart raced as he leaned down, his fingers hooking into the thin straps of her bra, sliding them off her shoulders with an aching slowness. The straps fell away, his knuckles grazing her skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"You don't need this," he murmured, his lips brushing the curve of her collarbone as he reached behind her, unhooking the clasp with a practiced ease.

The bra slipped from her body, and Logan let it fall without a glance, his hands already returning to her, tracing a path down her sides. His palms were warm, rough in the best way, and they left trails of fire wherever they touched.

"Every inch of you," he whispered, his lips ghosting over her skin as his hands slid lower. "Mine."

Her breath hitched, her body arching toward him instinctively, surrendering completely to his touch.

Logan's hands paused at her hips, his fingers slipping under the thin elastic of her panties. His gaze flicked up to hers, holding her there with an intensity that made her pulse thunder in her ears.

She nodded, her voice failing her, but it didn't matter. Logan saw everything he needed in her eyes.

With one smooth motion, he slid the last barrier from her body, baring her completely to him. He stood there for a moment, his gaze raking over her with a hunger that made her shiver.

"Perfect," he muttered, more to himself than to her, before leaning down, his lips brushing against her ear.

"Now let me show you what it means to let go."

Logan knelt between her legs, his hands on her knees, gently parting them as he moved with calm, deliberate intent. She froze for a second, a wave of embarrassment washing over her as she realized she hadn't shaved. Her gaze quickly flicked away, her cheeks flushing with the sudden vulnerability she felt.

But Logan noticed. He looked at her with a reassuring, almost amused smirk, his eyes flickering down her body before meeting hers again.

"Don't," he murmured, his voice low and soothing as he pressed a thumb along her inner thigh. "I like it just like this."

Her breath hitched at his words, the tension in her body slowly melting under his touch.

He lowered himself slowly, nuzzling his face against her inner thighs, placing soft, teasing kisses along their expanse. His right hand moved to her center, and he leaned in, pressing a kiss to her sensitive bud. His middle and ring fingers slid over her hole, collecting her wetness, and spreading it across her labia.

"She's drooling for me," he murmured as his fingers slowly began to push inside, allowing her to adjust to the stretch. He kept his gaze fixed on her face, watching her pleasure as his fingers began to pump in and out, each movement deliberate and slow.

His fingers continued their rhythmic motion, working in tandem with his mouth. He moved his tongue over her clit, the tip flicking over the sensitive skin in a slow, teasing rhythm that made her body arch toward him. Her hands fisted the sheets beneath her, desperately trying to hold onto something as the heat of his touch seared into her.

"Logan... please," she gasped, her voice trembling, her hips pressing closer to his face.

Logan didn't stop. His tongue flicked faster now, tracing every curve, every inch of her, his mouth drinking in her arousal. She couldn't stop herself anymore; her back arched as her body responded to him, the tension building within her like a wave. "So good," she moaned, her voice breathy and desperate.

"You're so fucking beautiful," Logan murmured against her skin, his voice rough, thick with desire. He paused for a moment, lifting his head to look up at her. "I can feel you shaking. Let go."

She shuddered under his gaze, the command in his voice stripping away the last of her resistance. Her body wanted to obey, to give herself over completely to the sensations he was creating. "I can't... I need you, Logan," she pleaded, tangling her fingers in his hair, urging him back to her, wordlessly begging for more.

Logan smirked, his hands sliding down her sides, gripping her hips tightly as he pulled her closer to his mouth, continuing the rhythm with even more force, more hunger. Every lick, every flick of his tongue brought her closer to the edge.

He could feel the way her body tightened, the way her breath quickened. And then, without warning, his mouth pressed harder against her clit, his tongue moving with desperate speed as he drove her to the brink. She moaned loudly, her body shuddering as she reached the edge. "Logan... oh god," she cried out, completely surrendering to the pleasure.

As she caught her breath, her body still humming with the lingering sensation of his touch, a quiet yearning stirred within her. She sat up, her eyes locking onto his as she gently took his hand. Without a word, she brought his fingers to her lips, her eyes never leaving his. She traced them with her tongue, sucking them clean, savoring the taste of her arousal, before pulling back just a little.

"Dirty girl…" he said, his left hand cupping her cheek.

"I could be sucking something else", she said seductively.

He looked at her with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. "You don't have to," he murmured, his voice low, steady.

"I want to. Please."

Logan stood up slowly, keeping his eyes locked with hers. There was an intensity in his gaze, an unspoken challenge, and a silent invitation all at once.

She positioned herself on her knees before him. Her movements were deliberate, almost hypnotic, as her hands traced the strong lines of his shoulders, sliding down his chest, and over the hard muscles of his belly.

When her fingers reached his belt, she didn't hesitate. With a swift motion, she unbuckled it, the leather slipping free with an audible click before it fell to the floor. Her hands moved quickly to the button of his dress pants, flicking it open, and she slowly lowered the zipper.

She tugged at the hem of his shirt, pulling it free from his waistband. Her fingers, delicate yet determined, began to unbutton the shirt, one button at a time. Her gaze never left him, and the way her hands worked with such slow precision sent a wave of heat through his chest. The act was intimate, each button a whispered invitation.

Once the shirt was undone, she moved to the cuffs, gently opening them before pressing a soft kiss to the back of each of his hands. Logan closed his eyes briefly at the touch, the tenderness of it catching him off guard. His thumb stroked the curve of her cheek, the touch affectionate, reverent.

There was something magnetic about the way she undressed him—each movement slow and filled with purpose. Her eyes held a quiet hunger that mirrored his own, a silent language between them that made his pulse quicken.

He shrugged the shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall carelessly to the floor. She didn't waste a moment, pulling his pants and boxers down his legs in one smooth, fluid motion, letting them drop to the floor as he stepped out of the garment.

He stood there, bare in front of her. His body was exposed, but it wasn't the nudity that left him feeling vulnerable. It was the way his body didn't respond like it once had, the slow burn of frustration creeping in.

But that did not deter her. She braced herself on all fours, the movement full of quiet confidence. Leaning in, she began licking and gently sucking at his balls, the heat of her mouth sending a shiver through him. His breath hitched as her right hand took hold of his semi-hard dick, her touch light but teasing, coaxing him to respond. The softness of her lips, the pressure of her hand, stirred something deep inside him, and he could feel himself slowly hardening.

She licked a long stripe from his balls up to his tip, her mouth hot against his skin. The sudden surge of sensation had him grunting low, his hands instinctively finding their way into her hair, fingers curling into her locks as he pulled her closer.

"Fuck," Logan breathed, his voice low and rough, as his grip tightened on her hair, pulling her in deeper, the feeling of her mouth sending waves of heat through him. "Don't stop," he muttered.

Y/N could feel him growing heavier and thick in her mouth. She released his dick with a loud pop and with both hands began pumping it.

At the sight Logan closed his eyes and let his head fall back, the hold on her hair tightening. She took him in her mouth and, hollowing her cheeks, began taking him deeper.

She gagged around him when her nose reached the grey hairs on the base and pulled back coughing, a string of saliva connecting her to his member.

Y/N looked up and smiled mischievously seeing him fully erect.

Logan pushed her onto the bed, his hands firmly pinning her wrists to the mattress as he hovered over her. His eyes locked onto hers.

"You're trouble," he finally muttered, his voice deep and rough.

She smirked, but there was a glint of challenge in her eyes. "You don't seem to mind," she teased, her breath hitching as his gaze darkened with hunger.

His lips curved into a slow, predatory smile. Without warning, he moved, pinning her down more securely. "No, I don't," he growled, his voice low as he leaned in closer, brushing his lips over her neck.

Her breath quickened as she felt the weight of his body pressing against hers. She could feel the heat radiating off him, and despite herself, she arched up, meeting the intensity of his gaze. He was in control now, his hands steady as he guided her into place.

He took a breath, his lips brushing against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. "You're going to beg for it," he whispered. His tone was rough, yet there was a subtle edge of something softer, almost possessive. "And I'll make sure you don't forget who's in charge."

She bit her lip, anticipating what he would do next.

Logan smiled darkly and kissed her again, his right hand traveling down her chest and grabbing her right breast, giving it a harsh squeeze.

He positioned himself between her legs, gripping his member at the base as he ran his tip along her sensitive center, teasing her with deliberate strokes from her clit to her entrance. Each motion made her hips twitch, her body responding instinctively to his touch.

Her moans filled the room, "Logan," she said breathlessly.

"Yes?"

She closed her legs around him pulling him closer. Logan laughed at her antics. Without breaking eye contact, he leaned back slightly, gathering spit in his mouth before letting it fall onto her, aiding his movement.

Her moans became desperate, almost broken, her hands clutching at his forearms. "Logan," she whimpered, her voice raw with need. "Please… I need you."

His smirk deepened as he held her gaze, the intensity in his eyes making her squirm beneath him. "I told you, you'd beg" he murmured, his voice low and rough.

Her chest heaved, her lips trembling with the words she couldn't seem to stop. "I'm yours, Logan. Please…"

One large hand moved to her throat, his palm pressing gently against her skin, holding her in place. His thumb traced the line of her jaw as his other hand gripped her thigh, pulling her even closer. "Mine," he growled, his tone possessive, claiming.

The pressure at her throat made her head swim, a strange mix of restraint and trust that sent a bolt of heat through her. She arched into his hold, her body surrendering completely.

"You like this, don't you?" he rasped, his lips brushing against hers but not quite touching. His voice was low and commanding, but there was a glint of something softer beneath it, a promise just out of reach.

Her breath hitched, and she let out a shaky moan, her hands clutching at his wrist. "Yes," she whispered, desperate and trembling.

His mouth curved into a wicked smirk as his hand shifted, loosening his hold just enough for her to feel the contrast. "Let me take care of you," he murmured, dragging his thumb along the curve of her jaw.

The words lingered in the air, heavy with intent but unspoken in full. His free hand slid down her body, fingers tracing her curves with a deliberateness that made her skin tingle.

She whimpered, her body responding to every calculated movement. "Logan..."

He leaned in, his lips ghosting over her ear. "Stop thinking. Just feel," he whispered, the edge of his voice rough yet grounding. "That's all I want from you tonight."

He shifted between her legs, his hands gripping her hips, lifting her with ease as he positioned himself. The heat of his body pressed against hers, and her heart thudded in her chest, anticipation coiling tightly in her core.

"Tell me if it's too much," he murmured, his voice a rough whisper.

She nodded, her breath hitching as she felt the tip of his member pressing against her entrance. With a slow, fluid motion, he eased himself inside, feeling the resistance of her body disappearing.

Y/N threw her head back, a low moan slipping from her lips as her body adjusted to his length, "Fuck," she breathed, unable to hide the raw need in her voice.

She bit her lip at the feeling of him twitching inside of her. Logan leaned forward, his tongue sliding down the side of her neck. He then moved to her breasts, attaching his mouth to one of her nipples and sucking. He released her nipple.

"Breathe," he whispered, his hand sliding up to rest on her waist, grounding her. "I've got you."

He straightened up, his body towering over hers, and braced his hand on the headboard as he drew his hips back, the feel of his withdrawal sending a shiver through her. She barely had time to adjust before he slammed back into her.

She was trembling beneath him, her nails digging into his shoulders as she tried to keep up with the brutal rhythm he set. Every time he pulled out, every time he pushed back in, the pressure inside her built, and she couldn't help but whimper.

He picked up the pace, his thrusts turning faster, more brutal, as he pushed into her with a hunger that matched the fire in her veins. Her hips moved to meet him, desperate for more, and he responded with a growl of approval, his hands tightening on her hips to anchor her in place as his rhythm grew harder, more punishing.

"Fuck Y/N."

She smiled at him.

"You like that, don't you?" Logan's voice was rough, and dark, as he pulled back slightly, only to push in even harder.

She couldn't stop herself from moaning, the sharpness of the sensation hitting her in waves.

"That's right," Logan growled, his grip on her hips like iron as he rocked into her with force.

Her body responded without thought, her legs wrapping tighter around his waist, pulling him deeper, faster as if she couldn't get enough. The sound of skin slapping echoed in the room, mixing with the desperate gasps coming from her lips.

Without warning, he shifted his position, his hands leaving her hips for a moment, only to slip under her and lift her body, pulling her into a new angle. She gasped, the sudden shift throwing her off balance, but Logan's grip on her was firm, and controlling, as he guided her back onto him.

Her back arched instinctively, the new position deepening their connection, and she moaned, her hands reaching for the headboard to brace herself. Logan's thrusts grew slower but deeper, more deliberate now, aimed to bring her right to the brink.

Logan's hand came down hard on her left asscheek jolting Y/N forward.

"Logan…" she gasped, her voice trembling with need.

He could hear it—the desperation in her voice, the way her body was bucking against his. He watched her face, her eyes closed tight, her lips parted in a silent plea for release. He wanted to hear her, wanted to feel her break under him.

He gave one last hard, deep thrust, then paused, letting the sensation build before pulling back almost completely. She whimpered, the loss of movement driving her crazy, and before she could protest, he repositioned again, this time bending her further back, his hands now holding her shoulders down as he ran his member between her asscheeks.

Her breath hitched as she looked back at him, over her shoulder, her eyes filled with raw desire.

Logan didn't wait any longer. He positioned himself behind her, his hands firmly gripping her hips as he pushed into her slowly at first, savoring the tight, intense heat that engulfed him. The change in angle sent a shockwave of pleasure through her, and she moaned, her hands clutching at the sheets in desperation.

"Fuck," Logan muttered, his voice low and full of grit as he began to move, his thrusts quick and forceful, each one pushing her further into the bed.

She gasped with each hard thrust, the pleasure taking over her senses, her body rocking in time with his. The deeper connection from this position sent waves of bliss coursing through her, and she pressed back into him, her hips meeting his with every thrust.

"Does this feel better?" Logan growled, his hands tightening on her hips, guiding her with raw intensity.

She could barely manage a breathless, "Yes, harder…"

His thrusts grew harder, faster, and relentless, pushing her toward the edge.

She couldn't hold back anymore, "Logan …I'm gonna…"

His strokes grew sloppier as he grabbed her neck, angling her face so he could kiss her.

Y/N's moans filled the room. The mixture of his hard thrusts and the slap of his balls on her ass pushed her over the edge as she began shaking.

Y/N fell forward, her face on the bed and her ass in the air. Logan didn't stop. His hands opened her asscheeks as he watched his thick, veiny member going in and out of her hole, creating a creamy ring at the base of his member.

The new angle allowed Logan to continuously hit her cervix. "Be a good girl, come on my dick."

Her hands fisted the sheets and Logan, with his thumb began circling her other hole. The new stimulation tipped Y/N over the edge as she came hard on his member.

Logan didn't stop. Didn't even slow down as he followed her, his movements like a force of nature, unyielding, as he pushed her through the waves of pleasure, every last inch of her shaking with the force of it.

Her mouth fell open as she felt him stilling and his release spilling inside of her.

"Fuck!", he said, throwing his head back.

He remained still for a moment but then pulled out when he felt his member softening. He sat on his knees admiring their joint releases dripping out of her spent hole.

"Jesus, that's a fucking sight.", his index finger reached collecting the release and pushing it back.

Y/N moaned and fell on her stomach. He removed his fingers and lay next to her.

"Did it help?", he asked playfully.

"Shut up Logan."

______________________________________________________________

© th3mrskory 2025 — all rights reserved.

[yoonjae20]

Danny and Constantine's deal.

Inspired by @stealingyourbones 's prompt per @silverblueglitter 's request.

Read on ao3. Masterpost.

When the boy had sought him out, reeking of Death Magic John had wanted to say no on principle.

You don’t get that aura from being involved in normal stuff. John didn’t want to imagine what the boy did to exude such a strong presence and he’s the one who regularly tricks and gambles with Demons. At first he had been convinced the boy had a curse on him or that he was possibly possessed by an angry spirit (and how ironic that had been in retrospect). 

To say that John had been taken by surprise was an understatement. One moment he was sipping on a truly awful cup of coffee, while smoking a cigarette and looking at a British newspaper and the next the boy appeared like out of thin air, settled in the chair opposite to him. 

The problem? John had been in the House of Mystery — which meant that no one should have been able to find him there. Bloody hell, John had constant problems finding it himself, considering it was sentient and would manifest in different places just to spite John — at least that’s how it felt to the man. 

He had startled, his coffee swapping over — but before it could stain either his newspaper or his dress shirt it froze in the air. The Death Magic surrounding the boy almost seemed to spike for a moment. 

“Blimey!” John cursed out. “How in Satan’s name did you get in here, mate?”

“I just walked in.”

“You-” John felt himself fuming, before his voice dropped into something falsely calm. “You just walked in?”

“Yes.”

John let out another string of curses before he grabbed the cup with the frozen coffee still inside and threw it at the wall, shattering it. The House of Mystery shifted around them, only the coffee table and two chairs with them on them remaining and taking his pack of cigarettes with it as if to laugh at his misery. 

“That feels like a bit of an overreaction, but who am I to judge,” the boy said with a shrug. 

John groaned, head in his hands before he collected himself. Okay. Whatever. Taking the last drag of his cigarette he put it out by twisting it on the coffee table.

“So,” he started. “What do you want?”

“A friend of yours told me that you know your way around spells and magic.”

“I don’t have friends,” John stated, deathly calm. 

The boy gave him an innocent, but impish smile that screamed “Welp, what can you do?” 

“Get lost kid,” John said. “I’m nothing but a con-man.”

“A con-man that lives in a magic house that changes its assortments of rooms as it pleases.”

John narrowed his eyes. Now thinking back, the room he had been in before the boy appeared hadn’t been next to the front door. Not even near it. The House Of Mystery once again changed around them as if to confirm the boy’s words. 

“You just walked in?”

“I just walked in,” the boy agrees. 

John leaned back to stare at the ceiling, contemplating what he did to deserve this. No — cross that, he knew exactly what he did to deserve this. 

“I always knew you’d get me, John. I said so.”

He shook his head to disperse the memory before he leaned back even further, settling his feet on the table just because he could.

“So,” he prompted.

“So,” the boy echoed back.

Suddenly the table beneath his feet disappeared and John flailed as he lost his balance. The chair toppled and he crashed to the floor. The boy suppressed his laughter as John peeled himself off the floor.

“Blummin’-“ John bit back another curse. 

“You know you almost seem like a supernatural Doctor Who — only your Tardis hates you,” the boy snickered. 

“Ha, ha,” John deadpanned as he picked up the chair and let himself fall into it. “Very funny.”

The boy’s expression changed from amused to serious as he looked John in the eyes. 

“Become my mentor.”

“Not a chance in hell,” John scoffed. “Go bother someone else.”

“I don’t want someone else.”

“Tough luck.”

They almost seemed at a stalemate for a moment as the boy paused to think. 

“What I give you something in exchange,” the boy offered.

“No offense mate,” John said, “but I doubt you have anything I’d be interested in. You’re what? 12?”

The boy scowled.

“I’m 14.”

“Close enough.” John waved him off. “I’m not a babysitter.”

“I know that for most magic users, the higher and more difficult the spell the more dire the consequences,” the boy suddenly says before John can open a portal to throw him out. “Some people just have the talent and big magic reserves — but I don’t think you are one of them.”

“Hey,” he warned, but the boy just continued to smile at him, not daunted by his tone. 

“I can solve your problems.”

John squinted his eyes as he crossed his arms. He knew that his magic reserves were minuscule — honestly that’s the reason why he didn’t try to depend on magic if he could. Why deplete them and risk over exhaustion if the right words have the same effect?

“And exactly how would you do that?”

The Death Magic around the boy flared for a bit as he produced a green glowing ball of energy. John doesn’t need a spell to be able to tell that it could power his spells and that he could use it to fill up his magic reserves if need be. 

“With this.” He closes his hand, the orb disappearing. “In exchange, teach me.”

“What? How to use Death Magic effectively?”

The boy rolled his eyes.

“No,” he disagrees. “I mean manipulation. Show me how you were able to swindle Demons and get away with your life.” 

John grinned.

“Deal.”

John barely evades an attack as he picks up the phone.

“Do you not watch the news, brat?” he questions through huffs of air. “This is a bad time.”

“You’re like a cockroach, I’m sure you’ll survive,” Danny sounds bored and John doesn’t even have the time to feel outraged — moments like these are when he regrets agreeing to Danny’s deal. The boy is more trouble than it’s worth. 

He groans as he is forced back to where the rest of the Justice League Dark is fighting.

“So?” he prompts once again.

“So,” Danny says, cheekily. 

“Can we for once not do that while I’m fighting for my life?” John hisses and Danny cackles. 

“Fine, fine,” he agrees. “I just wanted to tell you some good news.”

John knits his eyebrows together as he casts a spell with one hand — he isn’t trusting that one bit. Danny has a way to get into trouble and John is often the one who has to get him out of it. Honestly he would think his lessons on manipulating are failing considering what a bad liar he is — if he didn’t know the boy has been actively manipulating him into helping him. At least he got something out of it.

He grabs into his pocket and pulls out the condensed energy from Danny and absorbs it, sighing in relief when his magic reserves get filled up again. That was close. 

“Spit it out already,” John huffs out. 

“Well you said I’m not utilizing what you are teaching you, so I decided I should do something fun-” Oh no. “So I asked around and oh and behold — I got myself a ticket to a very special Poker Night.”

“And?” 

“And now I’m the proud owner of 70% of your soul!”

John blankly stares at the phone in his hand before he puts it back up.

“You little-”

The line beeps and he’s about to throw his phone at the next enemy when a sudden voice behind him startles him.

“Sorry your expression was just too good to pass on,” Danny snickers. “I needed to see it in person.”

“HAVE YOU BEEN HERE THE WHOLE TIME?”

Danny leans back, floating in the air as he shrugs.

“Maybe, or maybe not.”

John gets the sudden urge to strangle the boy — never mind that’s just how it always is. He pinches the bridge of his nose as he breathes out slowly.

“Constantine,” Zatanna appears next to John and he doesn’t yelp — thank you very much. “Who is your friend?”

“He is not my friend,” John says blankly while Danny chirps, “I’m the major shareholder of his soul!”

John tries to smother the boy with his hand, but Danny just cackles. He withdraws his hand, disgusted after the teen licks it. They are gathering the attention of the rest of Justice League Dark who are still fighting and trying to hold back the invasion. 

“Ah,” Zatanna sounds awkward. “I wasn’t aware you are a father, Constantine.”

Danny bursts out in laughter as John stares at the magic user in bafflement. 

“Why do I even try?” John complains as Danny pats the man’s back, still snickering. John searches through the pockets of his trench coat and pulls out his flask. “I can’t have this conversation while sober.”

Danny snorts as John empties the flask. 

“You guys need help?” Danny questions as he looks around the battlefield. Of course he would be excited about this. 

John sighs, but gives his permission anyway.

“Knock yourself out.”

Danny whoops and absolutely decimates the entire invasion fleet. 

Danny’s right leg bounces up and down as he looks at the clock. Just 10 more minutes until lunch break — then he can slip away. Constantine had relentlessly called him the past hour which could only mean the man is in need of new ectoplasm. He can only hope that the situation isn’t too dire. He chances a look at his phone and winces. 15 missed calls.

“Daniel Fenton.”

Danny freezes in his spot and slowly looks up. Mr. Lancer is looking down at him with narrowed eyes and crossed arms.

“What is so important that you can’t pay attention to my class?” The man holds out his hand. “Phone. You’ll get it back at the end of the day.”

Danny sighs as he feels the man’s disappointment. There he goes — and he had been doing so well lately now that he figured out how to deal with his roster of rogues.

Just as Danny is about to place his phone in his teacher’s palm it lights up with another call. Mr. Lancer frowns at the name and it’s with horror that Danny realizes that he saved Constantine as “Con-Man”. Before he can stop the man he accepts the call, turning it on speaker.

“Danny.”

Oh fuck, Constantine sounds pissed. 

Danny can’t help but feel guilty. He knows Constantine had survived even before Danny provided him with energy for his spells — but he also knows the man is slowly starting to depend on the extra magic boost.

“I called you 20 times!”

“16,” Danny can’t help but correct. 

“You little brat-”

“I’m in class,” Danny interrupts meekly.

Danny can practically hear the moment Constantine realizes what power he holds as his voice turns from angry to amused.

“I see,” he says simply. “I need a new delivery.”

Danny sinks deeper into his seat as the man continues, wanting nothing more than to use his powers to turn invisible and disappear. 

“I’ve run out and you know that your stuff is the best.”

Danny closes his eyes. This is karma for all the times he trolled Constantine, isn’t it? He’s purposefully phrasing it in a suspicious way — hell without context it sounds like Danny is selling him drugs. 

Danny cringes as he answers, inadvertently making it worse, “I’ll get you the next batch as soon as school is over.”

“Good.”

The line goes dead and the silence is deafening. Danny doesn’t meet Mr. Lancer’s eyes.

“Class is dismissed,” the teacher says. “Danny, please stay back.”

Danny lets his head fall against his desk as he groans. 

What follows are the most embarrassing and awkward 15 minutes of his life as Mr. Lancer lectures him and sends him into the break with a “Don’t do drugs” pamphlet. 

[mojavebluez]

Bleed - the salesman x fem!reader

"What can I say?" His mouth curls into a soulless smile. "I like watching girls bleed."

summary - days after your first encounter, the two of you meet again, exactly as promised. This time, he’s eager for you to get to know him better. You play a game of two truths and a lie - with a twist: for every lie you miss, he gets to make you bleed.

tags - knifeplay, age gap, praise kink, degradation kink, blood as lube, bdsm, non-con, sadomasochism, sub!reader, dom!salesman, creampie, unprotected sex

a/n - thanks for the love on part 1! This is one of my first times writing nsfw stuff so I’m so grateful for the positive feedback :))

part 2 to ‘Russian roulette - the salesman x fem!reader’

4.3k words

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The days leading up to Friday were painfully slow. Your mind was plagued by thoughts of him, mostly denial about the entire situation. You were conflicted. The memory of him, so tall and utterly imposing - it sometimes made your heart skip, sometimes made it sink. You got the feeling you were only seeing a small part of him, a sample of his entire character. It filled you with dread. And excitement.

Friday came and there was no sign of him. You spent your whole day twiddling your thumbs and glancing out windows, searching for any sign of him. Occasionally, you would see a man in a suit walking past, and frantically stand up to see if it was him. But it was never him. You had memorised the curve of his back after nights of reminiscing, the exact slope of his jaw. It was ironic, really: with this information you could easily go to the police and explain the situation. You never did, though, and he must have known you wouldn't. That card - incredibly incriminating evidence, really - was just another symbol of the power he held over you.

On the way home, the reality of the situation becomes very real indeed. If you ran away, would he know where to find you? If you stayed at a friend's place for the night, or even in a hotel, would he seek you out? No. You aren't the sort of person to back out of something. Not now you're so close to finding out who this man really is.

You knock on the door of your apartment, expecting one of your parents to let you in. Usually, it stays locked during the day. But when you bring your hand to the door, it opens at your touch. You glance around. Then, step inside. The entire apartment is dark, every shutter closed and every light off. You don't turn them on, too afraid of what you might find if you do. Carefully, you search the place, trying to make your footsteps as silent as possible. But there's no sign of your parents.

Finally, you open your mouth to call their names. From behind, a hand claps over your face, muffling your voice. Your eyes widen in realisation, and you grab at the hand, attempting to pull it off. You recognise the smell of him. Something musky and expensive, though slightly metallic. The smell brings you to your senses, and your adrenaline kicks in. You scream against his hand, scratching at his fingers and kicking out your legs in an attempt to break free from his hold. He doesn't waver, just pulls another arm around you, holding you even firmer in place than before.

Eventually, you grow tired, and decide to do something you don't really want to. You bite his hand as hard as you can. He makes a pained noise and rips his hand away, staggering backwards. You jump forward, away from his hold, then turn to face him. He holds the wrist of his injured hand, studying it with a frustrated expression. When he looks up at you, eyes burning, fear sinks in.

You step backwards, anticipating his response. "I'm- I'm sorry, I didn't know-"

"Now, now," he shakes his head, a false smile on his face, "what did you do that for, sweetheart?"

You blink frantically, assessing your options. The only way out is the door, and in order to escape you would have to pass him, but he could grab you with ease. After a moment, he decides for you. He moves towards you, gripping your upper arm and wrenching your body toward him. His fingers easily curl around your entire arm. Your head rushes with regret. An assault like that can't go unpunished with him. You know it.

He pulls you through your own apartment and into the dining room, an action which indicates he already knows his way around. He pulls out a chair at the head of the table and pushes you into it. He wastes no time. Already set on the table are coils of binding; he grabs them and instantly starts tying your ankles. He then pulls your arms behind you with painful force, binding your wrists.

"I was really hoping we wouldn't have to do this," he says bitterly whilst tying the ropes.

"How did you get in here?" You ask him, tears thick in your throat. "Where are my parents?"

"Questions I can answer later. Be patient," he stands back once he finishes, and dusts off his hands like an artist that has just finished a project.

"Please-" you begin to say, but he cuts you off with a palm raised in the air. A ring of purple, angry teeth marks are imbedded in his skin.

"You talk far too much. Do I have to keep you quiet?" He lowers his hand carefully.

You press your lips together and shake your head frantically. That would only make the situation worse. He smiles approvingly, then lowers himself to his haunches, studying you from head to toe in a clinical manner. You feel scrutinised under his cold gaze.

"Need I remind you," he stands up, "you called me. I come here out of my own kindness, and this is how I am repaid?" He raises his hand again, showing the teeth marks. Then, he tuts and shakes his head as though he is greatly disappointed.

"I said I'm sorry," you watch him carefully, fighting back tears. His level voice seems more terrifying to you than any sort of outright aggression. When he is in control, he knows just how to make you scream.

He leans back against the wall and folds his arms. "I had something else planned for this little rendezvous, but I'm not sure it will suffice after that outburst. Something else, I think."

You watch him ponder. Everything about him is still a mystery to you. Why did he choose you? There are so many other girls. You scan him from head to toe, almost sizing him up. He wears a different suit this time: dark navy and paired with a black tie. His shoes are perfectly polished, and his hair is slicked back into its usual style. Memories of him rush past, flushed and sweating after practically violating you. That was someone else. You wonder if you will meet that man again tonight.

He seems to decide on something. "Well, I know so much about you, but you know nothing about me. It seems unfair, don't you think?"

"Everything about this seems unfair," you say bitterly, pulling at your ropes for effect.

"You're right, of course. But that's just the dynamic you'll have to get used to, sweetheart," his lips curl as he says the word. Nothing about him is sweet.

You eye him as he moves toward you and pulls out a chair. He sets it opposite you, closer than he was sitting last time. You instinctively shrink backwards as he lowers himself into the chair, leaning his elbows on his knees so he can be level with your eyes. "I have a proposition."

"What is it?" You say quietly, searching his eyes. Nothing.

"A game," his eye sparkles.

"Another one?" You whisper, breaking eye contact.

"Don't worry," he leans backwards, smirking, "no guns involved this time."

"How lucky for me," you say through gritted teeth.

"You're a very lucky girl," he smiles. "Something else - you probably played it in school."

You struggled to think of a school game that involved being tied down to a chair. "Peekaboo?"

"Funny," he doesn't laugh, "no, not that." He holds up two hands. On one hand, he raises his index finger, and on the other, he raises two more fingers. "Any guesses?"

You watch the gesture, thinking. Then it comes to you. "Two truths and a lie?"

His mouth breaks into a wide smile. "Good girl."

"But that's not fair," you say, voice raised, "I don't know anything about you! How am I supposed to win?"

"I'll make it easy for you," he clasps his hands together like a games-master on a TV show. "Round one, are you ready?"

You nod.

"Your parents are dead. Your parents are alive. Or your parents are in this apartment, right now."

Your eyes fly open. The mention of them was completely unexpected. You feel your heart rate pick up as you think of an answer. You so desperately want them to be alive - but would he even say it if they were? You decide to go for the most simple option: after all, you searched the whole place and saw no sign of them.

"You're lying. They aren't in this apartment." You say stoically, meeting his eyes.

He smirks. "Correct. So, dead or alive?"

"That's not how you play. I already found the lie-"

He darts out a hand and grips your thigh, making you cry out. "In case you haven't noticed," he squeezes your leg, "I don't play by the rules. Answer me."

Tears make your vision blurry. "They're alive," you choke, nearly sobbing, "that's the lie."

He pauses for a moment, not letting go of your thigh. "Incorrect."

"So they are alive? Oh-"

"You were wrong. You know what that means?" He dips a hand into his blazer pocket, pulling something out. You squint into the darkness, then freeze when you realise what it is.

"Oh god, no-" your whole body begins to tremble.

"Shh," he brings the blade towards your inner thigh, the metal reflecting your smooth skin, "if you try to win, this won't have to happen."

"I didn't know! You tricked me!" You whimper as he pushes back the material of your skirt and brings the blade to your thigh. There was no way for you to win that round, and he knows it. Once again, he uses you as a tool to show his own deception. He can’t be trusted.

"I'm shocked at how cruel you think I am," he says with fake surprise.

He presses the blade to your skin and you scream a bloodcurdling noise. Red-hot pain seeps from your thigh as he draws a deep line in your skin. You thrash around in the chair, but it only makes the pain worse. He makes a tutting noise, the noise an adult might make when a child falls and grazes their knee. When he raises the blade again, you look down to see a dripping line, like a crimson tally mark. One.

Your chest heaves as you try to console the pain. He pulls a cloth from his breast pocket and wipes the knife with one swipe. You meet his eyes and find that familiar mist clouding them again. He's finally hurt you now, and the cracks are beginning to show.

"Now you know the punishment for failure," he sets the blade on the table, raising his chin with a superior expression.

"I'm sorry- it hurts-" the words tumble from your mouth before you can stop them. You are only aware of the pain flooding your thigh. How deep did he go?

"I've barely touched you," he tilts his head, moving your thigh to assess the injury. "You're so fragile."

You just stare at him, chewing your lip in an attempt to distract from the pain.

He smirks. "Round two, are you ready?"

You hold eye contact, hoping he can see the utter hatred in your eyes. Like it would make any difference. He takes your silence as a sign to continue, and leans back, thinking. "I work as a messenger. I work in an office. Or I am a mass murderer. Which is the lie?" He says it with an amused smirk on his face, as though he already knows what you are going to pick.

You console yourself and try to think of an answer. Judging by his smug expression, he said must have said the last one as a joke - though, you wouldn't put it past him. "The last one. It's a lie."

His smile falls. His expression turns dark. "Wrong. Again."

Realisation falls on you like a ton of bricks. Slowly, as if it pains him to do so, he grabs the knife off the table. You scream again, tears falling too fast for you to stop them. You pull at the ropes, arching your entire body to escape his grasp, managing to shuffle the chair a few inches. It doesn't help. He grabs the bottom of the chair and wrenches you forwards with one hand, close enough that his knee is planted firmly between your legs.

"The more you scream, the deeper I go." He says, lip curling and his voice husky. You watch helplessly as he brings the blade back down, holding your legs back with his knee. The knife, now stained with the product of your failure, meets your skin. The pain is easier to handle this time, though still just as awful as before. Another thick, seeping line beside the last. Two marks. Two losses.

You hang your head, body heaving with sobs. He makes that same pitying noise, using one finger to lift your chin. You watch him through your eyelashes as he brings the blade to his mouth, running his tongue along the flat edge. Your blood stains his mouth and drips from his tongue. He makes a small, pleased noise, then sets the blade back down, now clean.

Unmistakable arousal clouds his eyes. You're really giving him a show this time. He leans back in his chair, adjusting his trousers. "You're on a bit of a losing streak, aren't you?" His voice is breathy as he rakes his eyes from your wounds to your face, savouring every inch.

"What is it, huh?" You speak up, voice broken. "What's your angle? Why are you doing this?" Desperation seeps into your words and you search his face for any sign of remorse.

"What can I say?" His mouth curls into a soulless smile. "I like watching girls bleed."

Your mouth falls open. Hopelessness overwhelms you. There it is. The confession. If he doesn't kill you tonight, he will leave you a bloody mess on this chair, alone and stained and scarred.

The game resumes for several rounds more. Each loss is marked with another line, and you feel yourself growing more distant with every tally mark. His dick pushes harder against his trousers every time he makes you bleed or scream, reminding you of your last meeting. He held out that time, however, and seemed satisfied just by making you cum. But not this time. You knew something was different.

By your fifth loss, he strikes a final line across your thigh, and you feel yourself getting faint. Blood pools on the seat of your chair, dripping from your leg so thickly you can barely distinguish the individual lines. His breath picks up, mouth open wide as you scream once more, leg trembling.

"Fuck it," he grunts. Suddenly, he rips off his blazer and throws it onto the table. It slides away to the other end, and you watch him, terrified at every movement he makes and his plan for you.

It's not what you expect. He bends down, ripping away the binding at your ankles so roughly that it hurts. Then, he moves behind you and tears off the rope at your wrists, too. You freeze for a moment, registering your freedom. You attempt to move, but wince when the pain in your leg overwhelms you. Instead, you rub your wrists, marvelling at the ring of purple bruises on each arm.

He moves back toward his chair, breath fast and heavy, then grabs your waist. He lifts you with ease. You cry out as he hooks two hands beneath your knees and pulls your legs around his torso. Scared that you might fall, you wrap your arms around his neck, holding on. He falls back into his chair and you realise the purpose of his hold on you. Your legs straddle his hips, and blood flows from your thigh to stain the fabric of his trousers.

"Fuck," he swear again, looking down at the mess. He releases his hold on you to unbutton his trousers, ripping down his zip quicker than you can see. You whimper, knowing what is to come. The pressure of your leg on his makes the pain worse and the room begins to spin.

You watch helplessly, loosening your grasp on him. His cock springs from his trousers, already hard and dripping with precum. Veins span from the base to his swollen tip. "Look what you've done," he tuts, watching the blood from your leg stain his hands. "Look at the mess you've made."

You sob quietly and watch as he runs a hand down his cock, painting it with your blood. You make a strangled noise when he swipes a finger over the deep slashes on your thigh. He sucks in his breath sharply. "I need to fuck you." He mumbles it so quietly you almost don't hear.

Your head falls back as he lifts you up, lining up his cock with your entrance. He moves your panties aside with one finger, already wet with your own arousal. More and more blood drips onto him and he grunts, gasping slightly as he eases himself inside you. You cry out at the size of him. He's bigger than the gun. Much bigger. He's barely inside you, but the blood on his cock makes it easier for him to slip inside.

"You're so tight," he grunts, gripping your waist with one hand and your thigh with the other. He's barely halfway inside you before he pulls out and rams himself back into you, using the hand on your waist to lift you up. You have no choice but to take him. Your walls tighten around him, and you squeeze your legs together, trying your hardest to fight the discomfort.

Tears fall from your eyes. Your senses are heightened in your last moments of clarity - you feel like you might faint. Somehow, the blood keeps pouring, turning his suit trousers black.

"Don't you dare fucking pass out," he says, gritting his teeth. He squeezes your thigh and you cry out, the pain too much to bear. Your body feels weak.

Still, he fucks you harder, slamming his cock inside you with every thrust. Somehow he goes deeper until you're sure he must be hitting some vital organ. You've never been fucked like this before. You almost forget the pain he just caused you as you buck your hips against him, desperate to take him even deeper.

"Such a whore. You want it, huh?" He squeezes your ass, lifting you so that you bounce on his lap. Pleasure builds in you, a jarring contrast to the utter agony you felt almost moments ago.

His head falls back hangs off the chair as he thrusts in and out of you. You lift a hand to his face, desperate for something to hold onto, not noticing your fingers are still marked with your own blood. He sees and grips your wrist, sticking a finger into his mouth. He sucks them clean.

"You taste even better than you look," he smirks. He can't hold the expression for long. His eyes roll back slightly when you move your hips over him, making wide circles. You press a hand to his chest, grabbing a fistful of his shirt, and he lets you keep your grip there, too distracted by the hypnotic movements of your hips. You notice that blood drips from the corner of his mouth, instinctively, you lean in and swipe it off with your tongue. He chuckles darkly.

"You're forgetting yourself," he says, slowing his pace. You make a desperate whimper, raising your hips again to continue the rhythm.

"I'm going to need more motivation than that," he mumbles, bringing his mouth to your collarbone. You slow down, unsure of his intentions.

Still inside you, he parts his lips and sucks at the skin of your neck. He applies intense pressure, sending shocks through your body and you cry out, dropping your head over his shoulder.

"That's it," he says, laughing breathily into your ear.

He doesn't stop despite the fact you wince away from him. He plants firm, harsh marks along your neck, leaving a dark line of bruises to your collarbone. Every time you make a noise, he presses harder, until you're biting your lip just to suppress your whimpers. Then, once he's satisfied, he plants two hands on each thigh, ramming his cock back into you. He grunts loudly with every thrust.

He's rougher this time. The flow of blood slows, but still makes his cock glisten red as he pumps in and out of you. The sound of your skin slapping together fills the room, along with his grunts and your faint whimpers. His increase in pace makes the warmth in your stomach more intense, and you feel yourself on the brink of release. You arch your back, gripping onto his shoulder to keep yourself steady.

He notices you nearing your orgasm and uses his last burst of energy to make you ride him even harder. His hips buck up and down until his cock fills you entirely. You grip onto his tie, finally reaching your climax. You nearly scream as you cum with him still inside you, intense warmth and euphoria rushing through your entire body. He does the same, gasping for breath as he cums inside you, still bouncing your ass on his lap whilst you ride it out.

Your entire body goes limp. You collapse over him, taking in lungfuls of air. The euphoria is quickly replaced by exhaustion and pain. Your entire leg feels sore despite the blood no longer flowing as freely as it did before. He slows to a stop, then pulls his cock out of you. It's still stained red and dripping with his cum, and he grunts at the sight of your cunt, glistening with your own blood and his cum. He has complete control of you now.

"You're fucking crazy," he says, panting. He swipes two fingers over the wounds on your thigh, making you wince as he wipes the last of the blood away. He leans back for a moment as he comes down from his high, pressing a hand to his forehead. Strands of black hair fall over his eyes, damp with sweat.

"Let's take care of these cuts, shall we?" He says, too gently for it to be genuine. He lifts you up, straddling each leg on his waist. He lowers you onto the table, letting your legs dangle over the edge.

He makes a gesture that suggests he will be right back, and leaves the room in the direction of your bathroom. His clear knowledge of the layout of your home is concerning, but you can't find the energy to care. You close your eyes, letting your head hang, trying to suppress the dull thudding pain in your leg.

He returns after a few minutes, holding a medical kit and looking a lot more composed. The lusting look in his eyes has disappeared, replaced by emptiness, and his tie - which you managed to almost pull off earlier - is centred again. Blood still spatters his shirt, and his hair glistens as though he has dampened it and swept it back. You almost feel flattered that he tries to look so presentable for you.

He moves before you, lowering onto one knee. He kneels between your legs and parts your legs gently. Too gently. You wonder for a moment if you're dreaming. If you passed out back there and this was just some fantasy you invented to console yourself. But no. He opens the box and lifts out some alcohol wipes. Absently, you lay a hand on his head, stirring the dark waves. He doesn't look up. Just brings a wipe to your wounds, wiping away the blood. It stings so badly that you grip his hair as tightly as you can. You feel the urge to cry again.

Before you even register it, he places a large plaster over the wounds and pats the site gently, as if congratulating you. He stands up and plants a soft kiss on your forehead. You don't even meet his eyes. Your vision is cloudy. Exhaustion threatens to overwhelm you, and you're dangerously close to passing out altogether.

You have a faint memory of him lifting you and carrying you to your bedroom. You recall grabbing his arm after he lowered you onto your bed. Then asking, "when will I see you again?"

You couldn't make out his face. His voice was low and gentle. "Call me."

Then he left.

—

You woke up to the sound of the front door opening. Jolting out of bed, you rush to the hallway, hoping against hope. It's your parents. They greet you, smiling, and ask how your day was. You can barely find the words to respond. Your entire body aches, and you nurse the wounds at your neck and wrists to find they're covered by a hoodie you don't remember wearing.

They apologise for leaving and ask if you got their message. You say no. Then you leave in the direction of the dining room to confirm some faint suspicion. The room is completely normal. No blood. No ropes. No knife. Not even a chair is out of place. You press a hand to your forehead.

Later that night, you stare at the plaster on your thigh, the only evidence that the entire situation happened. You peel it back and your head rushes with adrenaline. Five slashes. Still there. You collapse back onto your bed, ignoring the pain that is almost a comfort by now - at least it proves the whole thing was, in fact, real.

Your phone rings. Every normal, human part of you fights back the urge to pick up. But, of course, you do.

The human part of you is long gone by now.

[softness-and-shattering]

I think what makes it parricularly angsty particularly when youre young, is that you dont always know who you are, or who you want to be, or how to get there.

Part 1. Pay attention to what you like. Notice whrn something makes you happy or excited or determined v anxious, unhappy, bored, antsy. Now do more of the things that you enjoy. This can include hard things you want to improve at, thags why I included determined. Mastery of skills isnt easy breezy kind of fun but it is very important positive feelings.

2. Who you want to ve and how to get there. Think about your values. Whats important to you. Do you act like thats whats important to you? What would that look like? Forget social norms a minute and picture it. Maybe it means standing up for people being bullied. Maybe it means standing up for yourself and being honest qbout what you like and owning it. Yeah I watch anime, can I introduce to some? Ok thats chill, your loss, im gonna keep doing me. Maybe it means looking after siblings while everyone else is hanging out, naybe it means making time for friends even though youre swamped with work. Who do you admire and what do you admire about them? What chpices do they make that gets them there? What do they do tbat you dont want to emulate? Pick and choose what works for you, dont try become exactly some other person. Mayne theyre super dedicated to exercise and train on weekends ans you wanna do that, but theyre also kinda rude and you dont wanna talk that way.

Tldr You get to build yourself, and listen to yourself, and thats pretty much how to be confident: like yourself so much that your self love is stronger than anyobe elses disapproval. Like yourself by doing things you enjiy and working towards living in line with your goals and values. Make decisions so that you'll be proud of yourself.

Take advice ofc and feedback, but always run it back through "does this feel right to me? Does it make sense to me? Do I want to be the type of person who does this?". Doesnt matter if its drugs or going for a run at 5am or signing up to a class or volunteering to pick up garbage or going on holiday overseas or hang gliding super high up. Do you want to be a person who does that? Does it seem like a good idea? Would you feel proud of yourself after?

(You also dont have to tell other people, it can be private; I dont really believe in guilty pleasures. If Im prous of myself and I know some ppl will makw fun of me, I just dont tell them. Not bc im embarassed but bc I dont feel like being harassed. You get the difference?)

It’s crazy and fucked up that being yourself is actually the solution.

[vampstarkey]

provocative mini skirt ୨୧ ⊹ ˚₊‧♡

warnings: pussy slapping, semi-public sex, hair pulling, dick sucking, ass slapping & degradation.

Note: English is not my native language, so sorry for any mistakes in advance.

You and Rafe had been together for a few months, but the relationship seemed like a tightrope about to snap, full of possessiveness and arguments that seemed to have no end. He hated your sassy behavior sometimes, but at the same time, the idea of ​​having to punish you later seemed exciting, and he made sure to make that clear at every opportunity.

The loud music from Topper's party echoed in the background, muffled by the walls of the house, but that didn't stop Rafe's cutting words from reverberating in your mind. You watched him from across the room, leaning against the doorframe, trying to process the weight of the look he was giving you, intense, but at the same time filled with fury, it made you wet.

Rafe paced back and forth, his fingers tightening his glass of whiskey as if he wanted to crush it. The reason for the fight was another of the usual absurdities: the short skirt you were wearing at the party.

— Next time, I'll rip that shit off you and make you change. — He growled, his blue eyes shining with an anger that seemed ready to explode. The sound of glass hitting the table accompanied him as he approached, his breathing heavy and the smell of alcohol already present.

— This is stupid. It's just a skirt, it's not like I'm walking around naked. — You replied a little frustrated, but deep down you found all that jealousy funny.

— You think it's fun to make me go through this, huh? Everyone was staring at your ass, damn it. — Rafe stopped, clenching his jaw.

The blond could feel his blood boiling with your air of indifference. It didn't take long for him to approach you. Rafe cornered you against the wall, not leaving you the slightest space.

— Honestly, I do find it fun. — Your eyes fixed on the lips of the boy in front of you, you were challenging him, after all you knew where this would lead.

— Oh, really? I want to see you find it funny when I fuck this little pussy right here without making you scream.

He ran his fingers up your thigh, massaging the area while he slowly moved his hands up. Your pussy could already throb just imagining all the things he would be able to do to you there in the room that was only occupied by the two of you at that party.

— What are you waiting for? — Your voice came out almost like a plea, he found it comical, the way you always seemed like a desperate whore for his cock, in fact it wasn't a lie. You loved the way your boyfriend fucked you so well, the environment only made you hornier, it was tempting.

Rafe quickly pulled up your skirt, playing with the elastic of your red lace panties. He pulled the thin fabric to the side, placing his fingers on your clit while rubbing it feeling your wetness.

— I didn't even have to try very hard, you're begging for me right here. — He slapped your pussy a few times and then laughed with satisfaction. Rafe could feel his cock almost exploding inside his pants. You were so ready, so wet for him. His fingers slid so easily inside you. It was killing you. It was torturous.

— I need your dick. — You bit your lip hard, then leaned against a small table.

— I'm going to play with you a little bit more. — Rafe quickly slid two fingers inside your soaked slit while his other hand was still caressing your swollen clit. His fingers went in and out inside you so deliciously that it made you hold back your moans, even though you wanted to make the scene he loved. One of your hands went to his wrist, squeezing it as you tilted your head back.

— My little slut is so desperate. — His hands went to your thigh once more, but this time giving it a hard slap on the outside. — Turn your back to me and lean on the table

Without thinking twice, you did exactly what he asked, like the good, obedient slut that you were. Then you turned around, placing both hands on the table while your ass was completely raised for him. Rafe slid your panties down your legs while he analyzed your body from behind, then slapped your ass. He loved doing that.

— You made me really angry today. Don't you understand that I'm the only one who can see this delicious body? — Another slap was given to your ass, this time harder than the last time.

— Fuck, Rafe… — With the tension in the air, your body was completely at his mercy. After the slap, a scream came from your lips.

— Shh, be quiet. — Your ass was turning all red thanks to him. The boy slapped you several times without caring about the pain he caused you. After all, he knew you wouldn't complain. You were a real slut to him. — I'm going to fuck you so good, baby..

Still with your back to him, he moved his hands up to your breasts, squeezing them over your bra and playing with them.

— Be a good girl now and suck your man. — That came out more like an order than a request, and of course you didn't refuse, so you turned to Rafe and got on your knees.

Your hands went to the older man's pants, unbuttoning them skillfully. He helped you unbuckle his belt without much patience. You looked at the large bulge formed in his black boxers as soon as his pants fell to the floor. You salivated just imagining sucking that damn delicious cock.

— Yes sir. — Your said as he touched his erection, groping his thick cock. Without delay, your hands pulled down Rafe's underwear, making his pink cock jump out. Your lips slowly went to his thickness, touching the sensitive head of his hard member.

— Oh, you damn slut, stop beating around the bush and put that cock in your mouth at once. — He grabbed your hair tightly, wrapping it in a tight ponytail.

You soon took Rafe in your mouth, putting every inch of him in your mouth. He was so big, but so tasty that whenever you gave him a blowjob, it seemed like a challenge, but exciting at the same time.

— That's it, good girl. Swallow that cock. — He pulled your hair and tilted your head back, feeling your tongue massage the entire length of his hardness. Rafe moved his hips back and forth, seeking more contact with his hot mouth. — Stick your tongue out.

— W-what? — You asked, a little confused, as you looked at him on his knees.

— Don't ask anything, just obey me. — He said, as he waited for you to do what he told you to do, and so it was done.

Your tongue was now out as you looked at your boyfriend. Rafe quickly put his cock in your mouth again, but this time fucking you. He fucked your mouth with everything he had, with anger and a mixture of lust. The sight of having you kneeling for him was surreal. He just wanted to put you on that table and fuck you until you couldn't walk. Well, since he took your virginity, you've become a thousand times hotter and there was no time or place to want to fuck. You coughed with the thickness that invaded your throat.

— Daddy's girl is so greedy, do a good job and I'll eat all that pussy that's begging for me. — Rafe pushed his hips harder into your mouth once more, your eyes started to water. Your eyes rolled back with each thrust into your throat, your hands were resting on his knees, your pussy was burning, you felt like you could cum just by sucking that dick, your face was all smeared with pre-cum.

— Do you like that? — You asked provocatively as you caressed his balls. Your hand masturbated the rest of Rafe's cock that didn't fit in your mouth as soon as he stopped moving his hips.

— You know I do. — Rafe laughed with that damned rogue smile full of evil. He let out small hoarse moans trying not to lose control completely. — But I need you to stop, I don't want to cum in your mouth.

You just nodded. Rafe pulled you up in a sudden movement, catching you by surprise, and placed you on the table, still facing him, spreading your legs.

— Rafe… — A murmur left your lips as you waited for any action.

Rafe pulled your skirt and fit between your legs, rubbing his hard member against your wet pussy.

— Damn bitch, I know you were crazy for this. — He rubbed his cock against your slit, making your skin shiver all over.

— Yes, yes, please. — Your legs wrapped around the boy’s hips. He soon held your legs tightly, letting himself be enveloped by you.

— I love it when you beg, it just shows what a real whore you are. — Rafe attacked your lips in a burning kiss as he rubbed against you, containing the naughty moans that came out of your mouth.

His tongue swirled around yours, losing each other. Without warning, Rafe thrust his cock inside you, which made you gasp in the middle of the kiss. Your fingers went to his back, scratching.

— Fuuuck — You cursed as you pressed him against you. Rafe broke the kiss as he moved skillfully. He had no mercy when it came to fucking you.

— What a hot pussy, fuck, I’ll never get tired of feeling how delicious you are. — Rafe groaned, looking at your expression of pleasure. He found you so hot, you were a temptation for him.

— Yes, yes, yes, just like that. — You said, feeling every inch of him touch your pussy, he went so deep that it left you in ecstasy.

— You like it like that, huh? You like it when daddy goes deep inside that greedy little pussy? — He slapped your clit as he thrust inside you.

Your body vibrated in small spasms, you could only nod as he fucked you faster and faster on top of that table. The fact that anyone could show up there made both of you even hornier. A loud moan left your lips, hard to hold back.

— Moan softly, you’ll get everyone’s attention outside moaning so deliciously like that. — Rafe pushed your body even further onto the table, making you lie completely on it while he grabbed your legs and fucked you like a dirty little bitch.

— I can't, you're fucking me so good. — The table creaked as it hit the wall, you grabbed onto the cold wood trying to find support. Your moans were muffled by the music echoing from the party outside.

Rafe covered your mouth with his hand as he thrust deeper and deeper into you, increasing the speed of his movements.

— Noisy slut. — A growl came out of his mouth. — This is to teach you not to be a very badly behaved little slut. — Deep down you like it, yeah?

You nodded, completely unable to say anything since his hand covered your lips. He slapped your clit again, making you twitch on his cock. Rafe pounded you deep, making your body writhe.

— Daddy wants to cum good inside you. — Rafe took his hand off your mouth, letting you moan freely now. — Tell me that's what you want, little slut.

— Yes, daddy, I want to feel your cum dripping inside my pussy. — You whimpered. The mascara from your eyes ran down your cheeks, edging the makeup on your face.

— Look at that, so mine, so delicious. — He hit you so deep now that a high-pitched scream left your lips. Rafe grabbed your neck, squeezing it with desire as he thrust his cock in a clumsy way, looking at your face, now not caring at all if anyone could hear your delicious moans. — You're close, aren't you?

— Yes, I need to cum so bad. — Your legs opened wider and wider for him, it was hard to control yourself.

— Then cum for me, you little bitch, cum really good on your man's dick. — He said as he played with your clit, still thrusting his cock inside you.

Your legs began to tremble, Rafe also felt that he was getting closer and closer to orgasm. He rolled his eyes back, moaning hoarsely, holding your soft thighs tightly.

— Fuck, I think I'm going to… — You couldn't finish the sentence, a great orgasm hit you, leaving you totally sensitive.

— That's it, like that, just like that. — Rafe kept pushing his cock into you, wanting to reach his peak. Your body was very soft and full of spasms, the feeling was delicious, you loved it.

Rafe pulled his cock out of you, rubbing it on your clit.

— It's delicious to cum like this, you know? — He kept rubbing his cock on your pussy, leaving you all goosebumps.

— Shit, Rafe, I'm so sensitive. — Your voice broke, but he didn't care, he had fucked you so well.

A hot jet of cum came out of Rafe's cock, smearing your slit. He grunted as he pressed you against him.

— Fuck, you're hot, girl. — He said right after, wiping the sweat from his face. He had finished you.

— You left me dead, Rafe. — You complained.

— It's not like you don't like it. — He laughed, lifting his boxers and pants again. — Let's go to the bathroom, you need to clean yourself.

You got up from the table, putting your clothes back on.

— Okay, I can't deny it. — You bit your lip mischievously.

— Don't think it's over, when we get home I'm going to make you cum again. — Rafe gave your ass a little slap and winked before going upstairs to the bathroom to clean himself.

[burrowdarling]

Like I Do (18+)

Summary: It had been a rough time for you since the Bengals season came to an end, it felt like nothing could go your way. Instead of letting Joe in, you shut him out. He takes his time showing you what you mean to him the best way he knows how.

Pairings: boyfriend!Joe Burrow x girlfriend!reader

Requested: Yes | No

Warnings: oral (female receiving), praise, dirty talk, feeling down, negative talk, definitely missing stuff so MDNI

Note: Hi! Surprise! This was something that came to mind and I just sat and busted it out while watching the games today. I do still have a texting fic coming out in the morning as planned, so take this as a bonus. I hope you all enjoy! (not proofread, apologies!)

Word Count: 3.2k

Check out my Masterlist here!

Taglist: @burrowbarbie @definitelynotdomanique @one-sweet-gubler @plushkhiii @enchantedinfinity @iosivb9 @hellsingalucard18 @hotburreaux Feel free to comment or message me if you'd like to be added to the list!

You started the week, feeling like you could take on the world. You made a plan, things seemed to be going well enough at work, it was as if nothing could bring you down from your high. Except there was something and that feeling of invincibility didn’t last very long unfortunately. After the games on Sunday, you could feel it in Joe too. The tension in the household was prevalent, making it hard to keep up the peppy act when you weren’t feeling in very high spirits either. Sure, you were used to your mood sometimes feeling low, able to push through the week while you looked forward to the weekend. This week just felt particularly tough. Everything felt like an uphill battle, getting yourself out of bed, managing your workload with being back in the office, and keeping the house together. Joe had been busy himself with some meetings about changes to the team, putting in long days at the facility and drowning himself in workouts at the gym or film in his office. You knew this was typical for him, but with your current state it felt like the world was closing in around you.

As if the tension at home wasn’t enough, you had to hear it from your coworkers, the guys specifically, about the Bengals not making the playoffs. It was as if they knew exactly what they were doing, feigning for a rise out of you. The feeling of your skin heating everytime it comes up while trying to maintain your composure. You knew Joe tried his hardest to get them to even have a possible chance, realizing other people didn’t think the same way. Your social media was flooded too from “fans” making comments about how Joe could do better than you, he was too successful to be with “someone like you”. Making statements about how Joe didn’t need anyone holding him back, acting like they knew him and his best interests.

It wasn’t just what people said though, it felt like anything you wore didn’t suit you. You were usually a confident person, able to brush off any negativity that was thrown your way. Secure in your style, your personality, especially your relationship with Joe. He always made you feel like you were the only girl in the world. Recently, with him being gone as much as he was, it was easy to feel like he was doing it out of spite. Maybe he was reading the same things you were and was too much of a coward to admit it to your face. You knew deep down these thoughts weren’t true, but they were too loud to shut out. You were getting sick and tired of all of the outside noise. Instead of drowning it out like usual, you found it to be suffocating. It was pulling you into a spiral, one you haven’t felt in ages. You felt like you weren’t good enough, pretty enough, capable even.

There were times, when one thing could knock you down by the knees and make you feel weak. It would shut down some of your defenses, making you more susceptible to nitpicking and criticism. You knew what you signed up for when you started dating Joe, willing to persevere with whatever life would throw at you to be the person you loved. Everything else just felt so heavy that you started to believe some of the things they were saying. If everyone says he’s better off, I’ll make sure I’m out of his way.

You tried your best to throw yourself into your work, getting as head as you were able to distract yourself from your thoughts that were swirling. You stopped putting in as much effort to your clothes, wearing anything you could that wouldn’t bring attention to your frame. You stuck to your office, only being around your coworkers when you had to, which even then you tried your best to avoid at all costs.

As the week went on, Joe started to be around more which made him harder to avoid. Things were finally ironing out for a plan for the next season, making him more available and able to start enjoying his offseason with the person he loved. He knew he was being a jerk unintentionally, leaving early and coming home late to get things done. He knew he had a tendency for throwing himself into things and blocking out everything else, the repercussion being that you were caught in the crossfire. He never meant to hurt you, he was trying to do better and be better for you, more present even when it was hard. With the offseason starting, he knew he needed to make you a priority. The only problem was that it seemed like you were avoiding him.

Joe wanted to do better, show you how much he cared for you and everything you did for him. He knew he couldn’t make up for how he's acted or the lost time together, but he could start now by putting his best foot forward. Joe was able to see how much time and effort you put into making your house a home, wanting to do something nice back for you. He knew how much you loved his cooking, a rarity during the season due to his hectic schedule. He made a nice meal for you, cooked your favorite while he set the table with flowers and candles. He waited by the door for you to get home, feeling like an eternity before you finally walked through the door.

He took in your appearance, your clothing a lot baggier than you usually wore. You had dark circles under your eyes, your shoulders were dropped low and were visibly shrinking into yourself. His heart was cracking in two, not being able to shake the feeling like he was the one that did this to you. If he was around more, gave you more of his attention. He could only hope that thing would go up from here.

“Hi hunny, I made us some dinner. I hope you’re hungry, it’s your favorite,” Joe said, opening his arms to embrace you. You stepped into his arms, lightly wrapping your arms around his waist. It was nothing compared to your usual hug, feeling half-ass and resistant. Joe tried to shake it off, wondering if you were just tired.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just a long day,” was all you said, letting him go and walking towards the table where Joe had everything set. You felt tears well up in your eyes, doing everything in your power to hold them back. You wouldn’t let him see you break down, not when you saw just how much effort he put into tonight. The inner voice in your head nagged at you, telling you that you didn’t deserve this, him. You tried your best to stifle it, to get through dinner so then you could take the time to be alone.

Dinner was mostly silent, your responses were short and sweet to any conversation he attempted to start with you. Joe was trying his hardest to pull you out of this funk you were in, bringing up anything and everything to get you to talk. You silently cleared the table, trying your best to stay out of Joe’s reach. You were aware of his attempts, but you were too absorbed in your negative spiral to truly see he was trying.

“I’m gonna go shower” you said quietly as you started to walk out of the kitchen.

“Can I join you?” Joe asked, hopeful to have some time to reconnect with you. He missed you, all of you.

“I’ll just take one myself, take some alone time” your voice slightly wavering at the direct confrontation, your eyes facing the floor not able to meet Joe’s gaze.

Joe wasn’t having any of it, always showering with you whenever he had the chance to. It was something you both enjoyed, treating it as a way to reconnect with one another at the end of the day. He could tell there was something off with you, having a feeling he knew part of what was happening. You were avoiding his touch, sleeping just out of his reach whenever you got too close.You were making sure to keep your distance, though it was painful to do it.

You were stopped short before you could fully leave the kitchen. You felt Joe’s large hand circle around your smaller wrist, stopping you in your tracks. His touch instantly brought you a sense of relief, you didn’t know how much you truly missed him.

“Come with me” Joe said, sliding his hand down to meet your hand while guiding you up the stairs to your shared bedroom. He didn’t let go of your hand until he stopped in front of your floor length mirror that was sitting in the corner of your shared bedroom. He lightly pulled you so that you were standing in front of him, letting him loom behind you, your height difference evident.

“Why am I in front of our mirror?” You questioned, looking at him through the reflection.

“Tell me what you see,” Joe said, looking straight ahead, his voice coming off low and firm. 

You tilted your head to the side, confused “me and you?”

“No, tell me what you see when you look at yourself” he settled his hands on your hips, his grip tender as he stroked your hips gently with his thumbs creating goosebumps across your skin.

Your eyes caught his in the mirror, feeling more comfortable than holding your own stare. 

“Don’t look at me, sweetheart, look at you. Tell me all the good things you see.”

It was hard to hold your own stare when you were wishing you could look anywhere else. Joe could read you like a book, could tell you were feeling off about yourself. He was always the first one to reassure you whenever he got the chance, this time you never gave him one. It seemed like he was taking matters into his own hands.

“But you’re so much nicer to look at” you said with a light laugh, but Joe wasn’t having any of it. His eyes told you everything you wanted to know and directed your gaze back to yourself, I’m not playing games.

“Umm, I like my eyes,” you said, sounding more like you were trying to convince yourself rather than tell Joe.

Joe lightly chuckled behind you. “Why?”

“I like how they change colors depending on what I’m wearing, I can always make them look nice whenever I do makeup.”

“So you like your eyes, how they change.” Joe moved his head so that he was resting his jaw against the top of yours, using you as a chin rest though his eyes never left yours. “Tell me what else.”

“I don’t want to come off like I’m bragging or anything, not like there’s much to-”

“Pointing out what makes you beautiful isn’t bragging, it’s stating facts. Though you could brag about it all you want, I wouldn’t be opposed.”

“I guess I like my hair, though I feel like it’s too short for my face since I got it cut.”

“I like it short, it makes it easy for me to see all the cute little faces you make or when I make you blush.”

Like clockwork, your cheeks immediately started to heat at his admission. 

“My boobs could be bigger.”

“Your boobs are perfect, they fit just right in my hands,” he says as his hands slide up your front and rest on your chest. You feel his breath catch in his throat at his discovery. “No bra?”

You shook your head, meeting his eyes again in the mirror, “I have felt like putting one on to be honest, felt like extra effort.”

He dropped his hands to the hem of your sweatshirt, looking at you for permission to take it off. With a soft nod, he slipped the fabric over your head, leaving you shirtless and feigning for his touch to be back on your skin. Joe moaned at the sight of you topless, he always loved your tits.

“I want you to see what I see. A beautiful, sexy woman who I get to call mine. It’s not just your outer beauty either, you have so many other wonderful qualities about you that I fall harder for each and every day.”

Joe moved to be in front of the mirror, turning his body to face me. He gave me a mischievous wink before dropping to his knees in front of me.

“I’m gonna eat you out while you watch yourself in that mirror. You’re gonna see exactly what I get the pleasure of seeing every time I go down on you, every time I get you under me or riding me. The one catch is you have to keep your eyes there, if you stop then I stop. Got it, sweetheart?”

You couldn’t help, but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. It was truly a challenge he was posing, one that made your skin prickle with heat just thinking about it. “And how exactly are you gonna know if I stop?”

“Easy, my eyes will be on you making sure your eyes are on yourself.”

With his gaze never leaving yours, he grabs ahold of the top of your jeans and pulls them down, taking your panties with them as they slip down your legs. Joe paused to slip the sneakers off your feet before completely taking the clothing from your legs, leaving you naked standing above him.

“Absolutely fucking beautiful” he mumbled, with his gaze on your legs as he ran his hands up your bare skin. Joe paused at your knees, moving to spread you open. His hands continued up your thighs to spread you wider, the anticipation burning hotter inside of you. When Joe’s eyes land on your pussy, you sink your teeth into your lower lip to fight back a groan, feeling your heart rate increase by the look in his eyes.

“Look at you, already so wet for me.” Joe licked a quick stripe through your center, immediately making your head fall back. He gave you a quick smack to your thigh, pulling you out of your trance. “All for me?”

“Always for you,” you whispered, a sharp intake of breath hitting your lungs when he trails his fingers gently through your slit finishing his pass with a short brush to your clit. Your body felt electric, his touch igniting you leaving heat in its wake. 

Your comment earned a strong groan from Joe in response,”now that sounds like my girl.”

He placed gentle kisses to both of your hip bones, showering you with praises each time his lips touched your skin. It was like he was slowly putting you back together one kiss at a time.

“Beautiful.” kiss.

“Smart.” kiss.

“Kind.” kiss.

"Funny." kiss.

“Generous.” kiss.

“Stunning.” kiss.

You lost track of how many, the praises continually spilling out of his mouth. Making his way across your belly as he trailed his way to the apex of your thighs at a painstakingly slow pace, at least to you. It felt like an eternity passed before he finally had his mouth on you, 

Everything felt overwhelming, it getting harder and harder to keep your eyes open let alone on yourself in the mirror. It felt like his touch was everywhere, your senses heightened. Everything he did felt amazing, your hands were knotted through his hair as you held on, trying your best to stay standing. His mouth was relentless on your wet heat, taking everything he could get from you. It was hard for you to admit to yourself, but you looked hot like this. You had this god of a man on his knees before you, his mouth devouring you like you were his last meal. You let the feeling wash over you, a moan slipping past your lips as you looked down at Joe.

Sure as shit, his eyes were on you, watching your every move. He smiled against your pussy briefly before getting back into the moment and sucking your clit into his mouth. Slipping two of his slender fingers into you, he began to pump them in and out, slow at first and gradually increasing speed. He arched them just right, hitting your spot with the right amount of pressure time after time. You could feel the knot building in your stomach, finding it hard to hold back any longer.

“I’m not gonna last long,” you breathed out, unsure of your voice.

“You don’t need to hold back, come for me. I want to taste you pretty girl.”

It didn’t take much to fall apart above him, his name falling past your lips in rapid succession as your orgasm washed over you. You rode out your high, pulling his head more into your pussy, earning a satisfied groan from Joe at your actions. He always loved when you would tackle what you needed from him.Your orgasm felt more intense standing up, leaning on Joe for support while you gained your bearings.

When you finally came to, you released Joe from your grip and let him up for air. Your hands trailed down from his hair to his jaw, lifting his chin to meet your eyes.

“I’m sorry for how I acted. Everything just became so heavy this week and I know how hard everythings been for you, I didn’t want to put anything else on your plate,” you said honestly, watching Joe’s eyes soften at your words.

“You can always come to me with whatever you’re feeling no matter how I am, don’t you ever forget that. You’re so goddamn important to me.”

You smiled down at him, following him as he stood up from the floor, his eyes never leaving yours as he towered over you. He brought his hands to rest on your hips, pulling you into him to rest his forehead on yours.

“So how do you feel now, hmm? It was so hot watching you, I could see when you really saw it in the mirror. My girl finally is realizing just how much of a goddess she is.”

A new wave of blush crept up your cheeks, you knew he was right. It was hard to admit that this worked as well as it did. You had a new wave of confidence in yourself, knowing you could take what you want, what you deserved. Joe had a way of making you feel confident in yourself, you just needed a reminder. 

“I don’t want it to go to my head or anything, but there was something about having you on your knees for me. Having someone as strong and powerful as you at my mercy was a major confidence boost. I’d want you with less clothes next time though.”

“Baby, I’m always at your mercy, you're my absolute weakness. I’ll be on my knees for you anytime, anywhere just say the word. You were a good girl and listened to me though and good girls get rewarded. Get on the bed, I’m not done showing you yet.”

[manmuncher777]

Drunkly telling BSF!Geto you need him….

Bsf!Geto Who was waiting on your call for him to pick you up, he offered to be your driver so you could have a nice night out drinking with friends and still get home nice and safe. He wanted to make sure no creepy guys were trying to get you in their car (especially when you looked that good)

Bsf!Geto who was trying to hide his erection when you showed off your outfit of the night, fuck you looked good.

Bsf!Geto Who is confused and slightly worried when he sees you calling his phone only 2 hours since you’ve been out. He picks up almost instantly

“Y/n are you okay?”

“Suguruuuuu.” Your excited voice rings out, he can tell your already drunk by how much your slurring. He can hear you holding in giggle

“what’s wrong sweets, do I need to come and get you?” He’s speaking slow and clear so you can understand him in your state, his chest feels a bit lighter by the fact you don’t sound in imminent danger, just drunk

“…” a beat passes, he can hear your light breathing over the phone, it sounded like you were stood outside of whatever bar you were at

“I need you” Three words you finally spoke, suddenly sounding more sober than a few seconds ago.

“Need me to what? are you safe.” Suguru’s gripping his phone a lot tighter now, his heart skipping a beat when he heard those words. No, you couldn’t have meant it like that… could you? that little whine that left you after you spoke…

“Suguru I fucking need you.” Oh. You meant it like that.

Suguru was sure now. Like you were begging for him over the phone, he has to take a deep breath to centre himself. You were drunk- you couldnt mean it. But god you sounded so sweet and desperate over the phone. Suguru’s heart was pounding in his chest

“sweets I…”

“I need you so fucking bad, I feel like I cant even function, I feel insane.” You didn’t feel as drunk anymore, suddenly admitting your feelings brought you back. You didn’t even know what you meant tot say when suguru answered the phone, you just needed to hear his voice.

“…” He’s speechless, this sudden confession. He was excited and nervous and confused and and- god he didnt even know what he was feeling right now. All he knew was that breathy voice over the speaker was sending him insane

“all I can think about is you, I thought drinking would help, but its worse… Sugu I need you to fuck me so bad.” Fucking hell

“Darling..” He almost choked now. Squeezing his eyes shut, trying desperately to get a grip.

“please- I need to feel you, I need to kiss you. I need you to ruin me.” You didnt care how you sounded at all, you were desperate, you were willing to beg

“I’m on my way.”

Bsf!Geto Who is speeding over to the location you sent him, jaw clenched, heavy breathing. Raging boner that was making it hard for him to concentrate.

Bsf!Geto who hops out of his car, opening the door for you as you step in, you look so shy now that hes actually there. Then he’s speeding you both back to his place. He’s not talking much, but his eyes keep flickering over your exposed figure. God you looked good, it was making it so much harder for him to try and be a gentleman

Bsf!Geto who didnt know whether to politely turn you down, you were best friends and you were drunk, maybe it wasn’t a good idea. But the other part of him wanted to give you exactly what you wanted, to throw you around, fucking you to tears. God he wanted to fuck you so bad, and if you were begging him, wasn’t it mean of him to turn you down?

Bsf!Geto who went with the second option as soon as he got you into his house. He couldn’t hold back as you stood there awkwardly, blushing and apologising if you made him uncomfortable.

Bsf!Geto who had you forgetting about that, throwing you down on his bed and going to town

Bsf!Geto who was eating you out like a man starved, so fucking filthy and feral. Slurping and sucking at your slit so eagerly. The sound of your desperate cry’s were music to his ears.

Bsf!Geto Who was groaning into your pussy each time you tugged on his hair. You tasted better than he ever could’ve imagined. He couldn’t believe how wet you already were for him, you were soaked, and Suguru didn’t want to waste a drop

Bsf!Geto who was flipping you over after you came on his face, he couldn’t hold back after hearing you moan for him so sweetly

“Sugu- oh my god”

“shit baby, love the sound of my name when you moan it like that.”

Bsf!Geto who was hitting it from the back, going fucking crazy watching your ass ripple with each thrust. Your face pushed into the mattress with your back arched so pretty for him. You were screaming into the mattress with how good it felt, unable to stop the tears of pleasure falling. His pace was anything but slow, sure he had imagined what fucking you would be like, but he never expected you to feel this good. So tight around him, so fucking wet.

His cock felt fucking heavenly inside you, you had never felt so full before. Hitting that spot every fucking thrust, he was brutal with it, exactly what you were craving.

Bsf!Geto who needs to hear you, gripping your hair and pulling your face up from the mattress. Relishing in the screams of his name. Your noises were better than anything he ever could’ve imagined.

Bsf!Geto Who had you cumming on his cock multiple times that night

“Yeah good fucking girl- you jus’ needed some dick huh?” “This what you needed baby?” “That’s it sweetheart, let it all out for me.” “Feels good yeah? go on cry baby, I got you.” “Looked way too fucking beautiful tonight” “shit this pussy so good, I should’ve done this months ago.”

Bsf!Geto who was the first ever man to make you squirt. You coating his torso in you juices, fuck it was the best thing he’d ever seen. The noises of your broken moans sending him over the edge. He came so deep in you that night, watching in awe when it leaked out of you

[skullamity]

I want to add on to this!

The only sponsored product I've ever used and can recommend to this day is Pretty Litter. tbh I was kind of relieved after scrolling the reblogs with comments to see it mentioned nowhere, because it literally saved my cat's life.

I bought it because it was light weight and dust free and it could arrive at my door when I need it on a schedule (a thing I was doing for heavier clay litter on Amazon before I found pretty litter), but a few months in I was cleaning out the litter boxes and one of my 3 cats jumped into the one I'd just finished up with, urinate, and then when he jumped out the litter had turned right red to indicate there was blood in it. Got him in to the emergency vet and found out he had a partial blockage, and the vet straight up told us that if we hadn't caught this so early his chances of survival would have been waaaaay worse. Little guy has to be on prescription food for the rest of his life, and tbh I feel good about continuing to use Pretty Litter as a secondary means of monitoring him.

If there's a cheaper alternative that does the same thing I'd love to hear it, but from personal experience it does exactly what it says it does and shows up on time.

Lastly, to the person I saw in the notes who said Adam & Eve can't be trusted because two of your silicone sex toys melted together randomly? That's not because they're from any specific store, it's because you're not supposed to store silicone toys in a way where they are touching each other, no matter where you bought them from. I know it sounds like it would be no big deal, because they're made of the same stuff? But it is, and they WILL do this if stored in full contact of each other.

Fundamental life advice: never trust a product from a youtuber/influencer sponsorship

[fairyofshampgyu]

just curious.. wdy think about hybrid txt?

You know I used to lowkey judge hybrid aus icl…but then I read some really good fics and I was like ywk, I fw this

☆ SUB HYBRID TXT THOUGHTS ! 🐾

Yeonjun:

Fox or cat hybrid !! You know those like really expensive breeds of cats that just look super expensive and elegant, I feel like he’d look exactly like one of those. Prides himself in looking pretty and rich and takes good care of himself and grooms himself, loves being pampered, hybrid jjunnie thrives on your attention, practically demanding it, and won’t hesitate to shove his head into your hands or stretch luxuriously across your lap when he feels ignored. Makes you buy expensive treats, meticulously chosen outfits, and prettiest collars, has a collection of them like pink satin ribbons, glittering jewels, and delicate little charms that dangle off the buckle all designed to highlight how undeniably pretty he is. Also has a really pretty tail that sways just so elegantly idk how to explain 😭 SPOILT BRAT !! He’s such a brat and always pouting with those pretty pouty lips of his omg but dw you just have to put him in place bc he breaks so easily anyway, just tugging on his collar roughly and pinning him down is enough to make him shut up and gasp, letting you do whatever you want to him, he’s so whiny !! Like the whiniest loudest ever especially if he’s a fox hybrid bc foxes are so whiney . Also I swear he has some sort of collar pulling kink, loves being pulled by his pretty collars, also loves dolling himself up so you can fuck him like that

Soobin:

Ofc he’s a bunny hybrid !! So shy at first, adorably bashful, his long ears twitching nervously every time you tease him, bunny soobin just the most fun to tease, tugging on his fluffy bunny tail or running your fingers over his trembling thighs always makes him squirm, cheeks flushed a pink as he stammers and shyly avoids your gaze but none of that can hide just how much of a dirty bunny he truly is, he’s literally horny all the time, begs you to let him fuck you literally all the time and when he’s in heat he’s 10x worse like lowkey you have to keep him fucked every second 😭 but it’s also extremely fun and entertaining to mess with him during these times bc he’ll straight up start sobbing if you don’t let him cum or let him inside you, full on tears streaming and hiccuping and lips wobbling devastatingly for you to let him cum inside 😭 and when you finally do the dumb bunny is literally drooling on you, cross eyed, countless thank you’s coming out his still wobbly lips and just garbled moans, fluffy bunny tail twitching and bunny ears flopped also thinking about soobin with a bunny tail is just so so cute 😭

Beomgyu:

Puppy hybrid gyu but also bear gyu is not appreciated enough on here im sick I need more bear gyu as well !! And this maybe controversial but…brown kitty gyu !! Come on you have to see it !! Bear gyu who is just always sleeping and so sleepy, loves cuddling and cuddles you 24/7 but he gives the best bear hugs and cuddles, literally so warm and comforting. Okay and somnophilia w bear gyu…bc he’s so into it…loves to wake up with you sucking him off, swirling your tongue around his cute tip and the dribbles of precum, bobbing your mouth up and down his dick, he’ll softly whine and whimper low and breathy, mouth hanging open, eyes squeezed shut, long lashes fluttering and he’ll bring his hand to yours to hold and squeeze holding your hand tightly, arm thrown over his face, cutely groaning and mumbling incoherent half asleep little pleas, body twitching under your touch. Soft, sleepy, cuddly sex happens a lot w bear gyu too >_< but puppy gyu would be the cutest too, tail wagging when you touch him and fuck him bc he’s just so happy and excited, dumbly drooling, tongue lolling out and panting like the puppy he is and so needy and reactive, puppy gyu cums so easily. And just imagine those big brown round watery puppy eyes looking up at you when he eats you out, tongue working eagerly, just waiting for you too call him a good pup. But he also knows he can quite literally get away with anything and his punishments if he just looks at you with his sorrowful puppy eyes, sulking and pouting dramatically, puppy ears flattening so don’t be fooled ! As cute as puppy gyu is, he’s also evil and such a menace and can be such a brat !! Okay but also imagine coming home to puppy gyu at the door on his knees, teary eyes and panting flushed, paws to his chest and dick all hard and leaky and flushed too, head tilted to the side and whining saying he missed you sm and he was trying to be a good boy and not touch himself and wait for you okay I actually need to shut up bc I kinda love hybrid gyu I feel like people need to send me more thoughts of their own in my inbox pls pls !!

Taehyun:

Kitty tyun !! He’s like those cool, indifferent collected unaffectionate cats and it takes him a long time to warm up to you at first and he barely speaks, always leaving the house and wandering off somewhere god knows and coming back later 😭 but like one time he comes into your lap and rests his head there and cuddles into you and you’re like screaming for joy nearly crying bc you’ve been waiting for this the whole time !! He’s super cute but he thinks he’s such a tough cat loll 😭 he likes rubbing his head against you and it’s soo cute. PURRING !!! HE PURRSS SMM !! Very possessive and just makes sure he rubs himself against you and the furniture and house so it smells like him, marking everything still silently brings random dead birds for you but it’s his way of showing his love lol. Gives you lots of silent gifts tbh. You gave him money to hang out with his other hybrid friends and he returned back spending all that money on some jewellery to give to you instead lmfao, handing the gift in your hand wordlessly but turning his face the other way to not look at you at all but his face is all red and his tail is swishing back and forth furiously behind him. KITTY TYUN TRIES TO BE A TSUNDERE SO HARD BUT HES SO CUTE !! Thinks he can fuck you too and be the one in control but one stroke of his cock and he’s purring into you, burying his head in your neck and whining embarrassedly, tries to silence his kitty whines and moans but he’s soo loud, mewling and purring uncontrollably. I need more of subby kitty tyun tbh

Huening kai:

He’s literally such a golden retriever and no one can tell me otherwise !! Golden retriever kaii >_< so cute !! He’s so big and fluffy and he gets so happy when you come home, jumping into your arms but kai still doesn’t realise he’s so big and he’s knocking you over but he doesn’t care, licking and kissing at you. He’s also literally the most fucking perverted out of them all. Golden retriever kai is suchhh a nasty secret perv. Whenever you’re gone, he’s humping your pillows desperately and rutting wildly into them, panting and crying out your name pathetically. He’ll fuck your plushies and toys on your bed too >_< and he’s just always cumming and touching himself to the thought of you, taking a quick little sneak peak when you’re changing your clothes so he can have the imagine engrained in his mind and jerk off to it later at night. STEALS YOUR PANTIES TOO omfg he’s so nasty and you think he’s just your cute little innocent golden retriever. Sleeps and cuddles you in your bed sometimes and he’s ofc the big spoon but then in your sleep, you move a little and your ass ends up rubbing against his cock and he gasps and let’s out a little groan and he gets so hard he just keeps erratically rutting and humping against your ass, cumming in his pants with a hand slapped to his mouth. Does he even feel bad ? No not really … He just wants to fuck you fr, wondering how your pussy would really feel like all the time. Btw golden retriever ! kai has a huuugee dick too like it’s so fat and thick and big no wonder he’s always so horny and such a perv all the time.

[cjlouwho]

I saw your post about his scruff and this happened

“What?” Tommy asks bemusedly when he catches Buck staring at him in the mirror.

“Uh,” Buck starts to reach out, then drops his hand. “Your scruff.”

“What about it?” Tommy rinses his toothbrush and puts it away. “You want me to shave it?” he teases.

“Fuck no,” Buck says emphatically, then blushes. Tommy leans forward to catch him in a gentle kiss and Buck doesn’t hesitate to deepen it. He pulls away after a minute to shift his attention to Tommy's jawline, kissing and mouthing his way along it as Tommy tries to catch his breath above him.

“You’ve, ah, you’ve seen me with scruff before.”

“Yeah but now you’ve got some grey in it,” Buck says before moving his mouth and tongue down Tommy’s neck.

“Old men do it for you, huh?”

Buck knows he’s teasing but he pulls back to look Tommy in the eyes anyways. “You do it for me. You and I, getting older together does it for me.” He rolls his hips into Tommy to show him exactly how much it's doing for him.

“Bed?” Tommy asks before he sinks his hands into Buck’s hair and kisses him. Buck nods into the kiss and starts moving them towards the doorway, only stopping when he feels Tommy’s legs gently bump into the end of the bed. He breaks the kiss and pushes Tommy back onto the bed.

“Oh, this is how we’re doing it?” Tommy lets his legs fall open and looks up at Buck.

Buck divests them both of their underwear. “Got a problem with that?” he asks as he crawls up Tommy’s body, grinding their hips together and returning to his ministrations of Tommy’s jaw and neck.

“No, ah, no problems here,” Tommy’s eyes are closed but his hands are back in Buck’s hair guiding him to the sensitive spots on his neck. Buck gives one last nip then pulls back. Tommy whines and his eyes flutter open.

“So I’m going to ride you until we both come,” Buck says in a conversational tone, “so you can see and feel how good you make me feel. And you’re going to keep your hands on my hips unless I tell you otherwise, okay?”

“Yeah, good, yeah,” Tommy nods emphatically. Buck grabs the lube from the nightstand and slicks up Tommy’s cock before leaning back to line it up with himself.

“Wait, Evan, wait,” Tommy’s fingers dig into his hips.

“What?”

“We didn’t,” Tommy seems to be struggling to get his brain back online.

Buck smiles wickedly. “I got ready in the shower,” he says nonchalantly, and lowers himself onto Tommy, more slowly than normal so they can both feel every inch. Tommy groans and his fingers tighten again like he wants to pull Buck all the way down.

Buck skates his fingers up and down Tommy’s torso as he inches himself down, groaning in unison with Tommy when he’s fully seated. “Fuck, even your chest hair is going grey,” he says reverently, leaning forward to kisslickbite Tommy’s chest as Tommy rearranges his feet to give himself more leverage. He keeps the pace steady while Buck loses himself in Tommy’s chest, alternating open mouth kisses with sharp bites and licking the valley between his pecs. “You’re the only person who’s ever made me think about forever,” he says, which would feel too raw and too honest except for the fact Tommy had proposed to him less than three hours ago.

“Evan,” Tommy breathes out, like Buck hadn’t said yes, like it was a surprise.

“Touch me Tommy, come on, you make me feel so good,” Buck begs.

Tommy takes one hand off his hips and wraps it around him, stroking Buck exactly how he likes it, using his other hand and his hips to keep pulling Buck further down on to him. Buck keens and falls farther forward, his head pressed into the crook of Tommy’s neck, his breaths coming short and fast.

“Forever,” Tommy whispers to him, like an oath. Buck comes hard and fast, Tommy right behind him. Buck collapses onto him, already prepared to regret not dealing with the mess in the morning, but not wanting to move even a millimeter away from Tommy. Tommy seems to feel the same, from the way he wraps his arms around Buck like he’s trying to meld the two of them together.

“The Lord liveth; and blessed be my rock; and let the God of my salvation be exalted!”