#i hate that she's like this but she felt like talking too much so

[pboogerswbb]

TOO LOST IN YOU - part VI

Paige Bueckers x bartender!oc

playlist, part I, part II, part III, part IV, part V

Warnings: toxic!p, language, SMUT!

Wordcount: 7.3k (oops)

A/N: PALERIE IS BACK - i know you guys have been waiting to find out what happens after part 5, well guess what - you're gonna have to wait till part 7 :) i wanted to have you on the edge of your seats a lil longer, so this part will be a flashback to how paige and valerie met and how all that unfolded! don't hate me too much lmao. anyway again, you guys have shown so much love and appreciation and i'm so incredibly grateful!! ily all please enjoy and send me live reactions and feedback!!! i'm begging (@paigesbabygirl your wait is over)

-

September 2024

“Valerie, can you bring more tall glasses we’re about to run out!”

“Uh ok,” I yell over the crowd, wiping the sweat and the hairs sticking to my forehead with the back of my hand as I hurry to the back. Dread takes over me when the rack is empty, not a single glass in sight. We never should’ve hired that freshman Johnny to clean tables. I groan running back to the front, the bar lining up with rows of customers for what felt like hours now. It felt like all of Storrs had made their way to Ted’s tonight.

I was warned about the last weekend before classes start, that all the students pack into Ted’s and get shitfaced. Somehow it was still just me, Natalie and Thomas working - and this new guy called Johnny who I had a feeling was about to be fired. How were we out of glasses?

“No glasses, use pints!” I shout, the chatter of the students overwhelmingly loud.

“What?” Natalie yells and I just point to the pints towering next to her, knowing it was no use to talk in all this noise.

Natalie looks at me, her wide eyes showing slight panic, her hands mixing drinks expertly. She evidently had some years on me when it came to bartending. “Where the fuck is Johnny?”

“Not doing his job I guess,” I groan, carrying a rack of pints over to the bar. “I’ll go clean tables then, get us some more glasses.”

The red haired girl waves me off as I rush into the crowd, squeezing through and grabbing every empty glass in sight, adding them one by one to the tower I was balancing against my side, bringing them to the back to be washed. Once I return into the crowd of swarming students, I’m crushed between two groups of guys, elbowing their sides to make my way through. I could feel the sweat dripping down my back, the air felt heavy and humid, early September still as hot as July had been.

“Ah fuck!”

Suddenly I feel a splash of something seep into my tank top, the white thin fabric turning red and seethrough. 

“What the fuck!” I yell looking down, the shirt sticking to my skin as more people pushed into my back, nearly making me stumble. 

“Shit bro I’m so sorry,” A hoarse voice mumbles and I lift my eyes upwards to the tall blonde girl standing in front of me, a sheepish smile on her face as she scratches the back of her neck. “Someone pushed me.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I snap, too overwhelmed and overworked to deal with this right now. Someone behind me trips, forcing me to stumble forward, the girl catching me and steadying me. “Whoa there,” she says.

“You good?” The blonde asks and I roll my eyes, what a stupid question to ask. 

“You just spilled a drink on me, what do you think?”

“I’m so sorry, deadass. Lemme buy you a drink please.”

“I work here, I’m working.”

“Oh, shit.”

I look down at my top, completely ruined and unwearable - if not for the red stain then for the fact that the fabric had turned completely transparent, my lavender bra completely visible.

The blonde girl in front of me blushes, eyeing the way my nipples poked through the drenched top now. Noticing me watching her, she quickly looks up to the low ceiling of the bar, pretending she wasn’t ogling over my chest.

“You can totally see through it right?” I ask frustrated and the blonde only nods, clearly trying not to grin which only annoys me more.

“I’m so sorry, hold up.”

She seems apologetic as she covers my front from the view of other people, big hands confidently guiding me into the much quieter hallway where only a few people were lining up for the bathrooms. It’s only then I look up and really study the face of the tall girl in front of me, quickly realising who it was that spilled her Shirley all over my white top.

Paige Bueckers is only hotter in person, her jaw that much more refined, long neck and broad shoulders and the way she towered over you making her seem bigger than she was. Her blue eyes are flickering everywhere but my chest as she drags me into the desolate end of the hallway. I’m sure I would’ve felt starstruck if the situation had been different, but the stress from work and the fabric smelling like grenadine and sticking to my body was only irritating me further, the blonde in front of me to blame.

Suddenly Paige starts pulling the back of her white hoodie to undress, the white t-shirt underneath rising enough to reveal the tan skin on her abdomen, her shorts low waisted enough to show the tiniest bit of a tan line. 

“What are you doing?” I ask confused as Paige pulls the hoodie over her head, fixing the shirt underneath it, silver chains dangling from her neck.

She hands the white hoodie at me, her blue eyes studying me. “What’s it look like, take it.”

I glance at the hoodie scrunched in her hands, being offered to me. The back of the hoodie is decorated with a large number 5, Paige’s last name written in big bold letters above it. 

Publicly Paige might have been loved, considered kind and grounded, but on campus people knew more. Sure, the girl was adored. But it hadn’t taken longer than staying at Storrs for a few days for the rumours to reach me, about her endless roster of girls who she never let sleep over, who she seduced into bed and then never called or texted. It had become a joke amongst the students that everyone knew - when you saw a girl wearing a shirt with Paige’s name on it, she was either fucked by her or wanted others to think so.

I shake my head at the hoodie, not wanting to be marked as one of them. I didn’t wanna be part of some sick fantasy Paige had about claiming girls.

“Nah I ain’t wearing that,” I chuckle bitterly, pushing the hoodie back, a jolt going through my body when my fingertips brush hers.

Confused, Paige’s brows furrow as she grabs the hoodie back. “Please, I really don’t mind. I feel really bad, just take it. You don’t even have to give it back.”

I scoff, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m not playing into some weird little fantasy and wearing a hoodie with your name and number on it.” Paige is quickly taken aback, brows only furrowing further.

“You.. I… Huh?!” She asks bewildered. 

“Please, everyone knows what those hoodies and shirts mean.”

“I got no clue what you’re talking about,” Paige chuckles, finding amusement in my defiance. “But I know you ain’t gonna work in that top for the rest of the night.”

She’s right. Why do I hate that she’s right? Thankfully the solution is right under my nose.

“I’ll take the t-shirt,” I say, my tone assertive. With a snort Paige’s brows rise as high as they can - I can’t tell whether she’s amused or shocked at my audacity. Perhaps a little bit of both.

With a chuckle she holds the hoodie over her forearm, piercing blue eyes landing on me. “Yo I don’t remember offering it.” There’s a spark in her eye, something that makes me bolder and certain that she’s enjoying this. So I play along.

“You don’t have to, I know you’ll give it to me.”

We stare at each other, both of us waiting for each other to fold. Finally Paige opens the bathroom door next to her, nodding her head for me to get in. She follows behind me, closing the door and locking us into the tight space. My back presses against the wall as she turns to me - I'll never forget the look she had on her face, the way her eyelids grow heavy and head tilts the tiniest bit upwards, making her neck that much longer. It’s in that moment, in the bright, fluorescent lights of the bathroom that I realise how blue her eyes are, how intense her gaze was. 

An involuntary blush grows on my cheeks, for a moment forgetting why we were here in the first place. Paige had seemed to forget as well, her tongue darting over her lips to wet them, the tight and enclosed space forcing us both to notice a tension. I clear my throat, my eyes snapping to the ground.

“Sooo the shirt?”

“Oh right,” Paige murmurs, finally breaking the intense stare.

I watch the way her hand grabs the back of her shirt, pulling it over her head. I feel something stir in my stomach when I notice the rings decorating her long fingers, the muscles in her shoulders flexing as her arms lifted. She’s wearing a grey sports bra underneath, and I’m surprised by how broad she looks shirtless like this, how refined but somehow soft her stomach looked. 

When I realise that I’m staring it’s already too late, Paige is grinning down at me and momentarily it makes my legs feel weak. Okay, I see what the fuss is about now.

“You good?” Paige smirks handing me her shirt and my eyes quickly flicker to the ceiling, back turning to her as I start pulling the damp top over my head. I can feel the blue eyes drilling into my skin, making me feel hot all over. Quickly I put on the white tee over my head, a whiff of deodorant and cologne making my head spin as I fix the much too large shirt. I tuck part of it into my bra, turning around and seeing the blonde pulling her hoodie back on, feeling a pang of disappointment when she hides the broad shoulders and the abs I had taken a liking to.

“Oh I’m Paige by the way,” she murmurs, pulling her head through the hoodie, hands sleeking her long hair back. 

I snort, raising my brows. “Very humble of you to assume I don’t know who you are.”

Sheepishly the blonde scratches the back of her head, shrugging. “Nah, I knew,” she smiles. “I just wanted to find out your name ma.”

The nickname brings an immediate heat to my core but I do my best to keep my cool. I doubt the blonde needed any ego boosts from me.

Trying to remain chill, I casually chuckle. “I’m Valerie.”

“Valerie,” Paige repeats. I never loved my name but hearing her say it was making me seriously reconsider. “I’ve seen you around campus, you know.”

“Oh?”

-

Valerie. The name feels smooth slipping from my lips, I wanted to say it again and again. It hadn’t been my intention to spill my Shirley all over her, but I’d be lying if I wasn’t happy about the situation it had got me in.

I must admit I had seen the brunette before, in fact I remember the very first time I saw her. It was her voice that drew me in, impossible to miss as I was walking back to the dorms with KK, Ice and Azzi. 

“HOW did you not know you need to add water to boil pasta?? What did you think boiling is?!”

There was something about the lilt in her voice, the way it echoed around campus, and the pure astonishment in her voice that got me to laugh before I had ever even met, yet alone seen her. I couldn’t help but turn my head, only to find that the owner of that beautiful voice was fittingly the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.

It was her hair that caught my eye first, it wasn’t just brown but the tones of gold made it sparkle in the late August sun, her golden jewellery only adding to the twinkle. Her eyes were big, getting even wider the more shocked her voice got on the phone. The gloss on her lips and the way her shirt showed just a little bit of cleavage caused very inappropriate thoughts one should not be having about a person they didn’t know at all.

Her legs were shorter yet somehow she took such hurried steps she passed me and the girls without a single look in my direction despite my obvious ogling. It was that moment I knew I had to have her.

So it must have been God’s plan all along for me to spill that Shirley all over her shirt. Because now I had her in a bathroom, pulling her shirt off, unable to look away from her lacy lavender bralette, trying to get the way her nipples peeked through her soaked top out of my head. To my pleasant surprise, I catch her dark eyes leering at me before I pull the hoodie back on. 

“You could’ve just come talk to me, there was no need to spill that drink on me,” Valerie chuckles, the annoyance in her tone making a heat pool between my legs. I should probably bring that up with a therapist.

Lifting my hands up in defiance I scoff. “Ma I swear it was an accident.”

“Sure.”

As she looks up at me I suddenly felt a desperate need for her approval, for her praise. Usually girls were quick to fold once I turned the rizz on. Valerie didn’t seem even a little bit affected - somehow it irked me and turned me on more simultaneously. For a moment I consider just pulling out the old trusty rizz hands but before I can process Valerie’s hand is on the door handle, stepping past me into the hallway, a whiff of coconut making my heart beat faster. I was usually smoother than this.

“Well thanks for the shirt Paige Bueckers,” Valerie smiles and walks out before I can say a word, leaving me speechless in the bathroom.

-

“Did you see the way he looked at me tho? Geno’s gon’ bench me for the whole season forreal.”

KK’s voice is faint in my ears as we sit at our usual table, leaning back on my chair to get a better view of her. Valerie’s pouring drinks to a couple guys, her nose scrunching a little as she giggles. Even in the dingy bar everything about her lit the place up.

I had come here three nights in a row now, sipping my Shirleys and trying to find courage to approach her with more than “A dirty Shirley thanks.” Normally approaching a girl and getting them naked into my bed was easy, nearly boring at this point - the five girls blowing up my phone on the daily proof of that. But something about Valerie was different, challenging. While it was intriguing it was also scary.

“Earth to P boogers?” KK pokes my side, snapping me out of my thoughts. I turn my head to her, raising my brows expectantly.

With a roll of her eyes, KK nods towards the bar where Valerie was alone now, humming to herself and playing with the ends of her hair. “Go talk to her.”

“Nah.”

“Bro.”

“What would I even say?”

“Rizz her up girl! Isn’t that your whole thing?”

I throw my head back and groan dramatically, throwing my arm over my eyes. She’s just a girl, if she didn’t want me the campus was full of other girls dying to fuck me. Why was I tripping over a girl like this - mind you, a girl I barely knew.

In truth I hadn’t stopped replaying every moment of that night I spilled my drink on her over and over. Thinking about the way Valerie’s top clung to her skin, the way her tits looked in that bra had made me drag my hand down my stomach, between my legs. But it was the memory of the way she stared me down that had brought me over the edge.

“Bro, you can’t come back tomorrow without talking to her, that shit is called stalking.”

KK was right. A fourth night in a row of just ogling over her would be nothing short of creepy. Finishing my drink, I finally get up and walk to the bar, butterflies growing with each step I take. Shit, shit, shit, shit.

“Hey,” Valerie says, her eyes twinkling as she looks at me and I immediately wanna go back to the table and just forget about all of this. How was I supposed to form comprehensible sentences when she looked at me like that? When her hair was pulled up messily in a clip, loose curls framing her face, white t-shirt hugging her curves. 

Before I have the chance to respond the brunette is already opening her mouth, a tiny grin on her face. “This is your third night in a row here.”

She’s noticed - no, she’s kept count. My confidence soars quickly as I look at the ground, my mouth twisting into a smile. “Oh you been counting huh?”

“Nah was just wondering if the student athlete was turning into an alcoholic,” Valerie rolls her eyes, leaning forward on her elbows against the bar, her breasts perking menacingly between her arms. I only let myself look for a second before using all my constraint to move my gaze elsewhere.

“Oh you worry about me?” My tongue slides over my lower lip, watching as she rolls her eyes once more. God I could get used to that sight. Her eyes rolling back because of me in a multitude of ways.

“Unfortunately it’s part of my job description.”

“To take care of me?”

Another eyeroll. “To not serve alcoholics.”

I chuckle softly, mirroring the brunette by leaning forward against my elbows. The faint scent of coconut makes its way into my nostrils again. “Damn, that’s a shame. They gon’ miss out on those Shirleys you make.”

Even in the dim lighting of the bar I can recognise the hint of a blush that rises to Valerie’s cheeks, her eyelids fluttering as she quickly looks away from me. The moment of silence is causing a stir in my abdomen, electricity palpable just for a moment. I got her, she’d be in my bed in no time. Maybe by tonight.

“Your shirt’s still in my dorm,” she says nonchalantly, breaking the tension of the moment by pushing herself off the bar and beginning to clear the glasses on the bar. I watch amused.

“You wanna keep it?” I grin, letting my eyes land on the curve of her ass as she bends over to pick up a beer cap off the floor. Goddamn, I better have that in my bed tonight. Rubbing my jaw I swiftly bring my eyes to look at the walls of the bar as the girl turns around, even more curls falling out of her clip now.

Valerie scoffs loudly like it’s the most ridiculous thing she’s ever heard. “No.”

I kiss my teeth and raise my brows. “I could also come pick it up,” I grin, my blue eyes staring into the girl. “You know, after your shift ma?”

The look on Valerie’s face is priceless, a mixture of surprise and something I can’t quite recognise. Yeah I got her, she’d be between my legs in no time - those big brown eyes staring back at me as I pull on her hair, her perfect ass in the air. 

To my bemusement, instead of blushing or getting flustered Valerie’s hand flies to her mouth as she bursts into a bright laugh, her eyes squeezing shut as she does. The grin on my face quickly wipes off as I shift on my feet, my arms crossing over my chest. Seems like I might have to wait a little longer than I’d like to for this one.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Valerie shakes her head. “If it’s one thing you got Bueckers, it's audacity.”

Her indifference to my flirting irks me. At this point I usually gave up, looked for another girl - not that I had to nearly ever. I don’t think I’d worked this hard for a girl since coming to Uconn. But there was something about the brunette in front of me, something I couldn’t quite place, that made it impossible just to give up. Maybe it was time to move on to a more challenging territory. The pussy would be worth it, I knew it.

“You want a drink?” Valerie asks, finally recovered from her laughing fit. Without even thinking I shrug.

“Shirley.”

“Which way?”

A small smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth as I wiggle my brows. “Dirty.”

With another eyeroll the brunette gets to work. Part of me wanted to keep saying stupid things just so she’d roll her eyes at me one more time.

I watch her work for a moment, noticing the golden bracelet with a small charm dangling on it decorating her wrist as I thought of any other way to get her naked as soon as possible.

“You ever been to a game?” I ask, convincing myself that seeing me on the court would have the effect it usually had on girls.

“No, this is my first year here so,” she mumbles absentmindedly, mixing the bright red drink for me.

“You should come watch me sometime.”

A smile. Valerie’s mouth turns into a smile. I’ll take that as a win. Feeling the tiniest bit proud I smile too.

“Yeah? You any good?” The brunette asks seriously, but there’s a hint of something in her voice that tells me she’s teasing me. Just that is enough to get me going. I rarely found the chase to be this fun, but with her? I was fucked.

I shrug and bring my arm up, flexing the bicep that had grown exponentially over the summer. “Best player in the country, they say,” I grin.

Her eyes land on my flexed arm, softening for a moment before she returns to stirring the drink. “Now who’s they?”

“Just come see for yourself ma.”

As she places the drink on the bar I reach for my wallet, pulling out 30 bucks and leaving it on the counter.

“Hold on Bueckers, your change,” Valerie stops me as I’m about to head back but I shake my head at her, walking backwards.

“Keep it. Come see me play sometime.”

-

“Pick up… pick up… pick up…” I mumble under my breath, phone against my ear as the steady slow beeps keep taunting me, reminding me no one had answered to any of the tens of calls I had made. Groaning, I put the phone on the table, looking through the back door of Ted’s, over the liquor shipment sitting in the bright evening sun. It wasn’t meant to come till tomorrow, when the boys could carry all of it inside. Now it was just me, my pathetically small muscles and boxes full of liquor bottles and beers.

“Fuck,” I groan when the phone finally rings. Picking it up urgently, Natalie’s voice comes through.

“Riri you called me like five times, are you good?”

“The shipment came early,” I panic into the speaker.

“What?!”

“Mhm.”

“Have you tried-”

“Tried calling literally everyone. No one’s picking up,” sighing I push my hair back from my face, trying not to panic. “What do I do?”

“I’m out of town too,” Natalie murmurs as I’m leaning against the doorframe, digging my brain for any solution. A moment of silence falls between me and Natalie when I finally got it. Saying bye to the girl on the line I walk to the front - the bar is empty in the early Wednesday evening. But like clockwork at 9 pm the tall blonde opens the door and comes in for the 6th night in a row - this time alone.

Of course she looks great, wearing basketball shorts and a team USA hoodie she had grown too big for, evidently a little too small on her arms and shoulders, her hair in a ponytail. Her mouth twists into a smile as she sees me, long legs quickly reaching the bar.

“Well he-”

“Paige, I need your help.”

-

Paige stares at the shipment through the door frame as I shift on my feet, hating how I had to ask for help, especially from her. I, like everyone else, found Paige incredibly attractive, exceptionally charming. But the ego on her irked me. The way she looked at me like she could read my mind, the things she said to make me blush and that grin like she knew that it was just a matter of time before I’d join the long list of girls she took to bed and left high and dry. I refused to be one of those girls - but it was hard to ignore the flutters in my stomach that arrived routinely at 9 pm when the blonde made her way through the door and to the bar each night.

“How’d they leave a lil thing like you to deal with this?” Paige chuckles, elbowing me gently.

I rub my hand over my face, smiling too. “It came a day too early.”

Paige nods for a moment and shrugs. “Well let’s get to work ma.” 

With that she pulls the hoodie off, left in black basketball shorts and a black matching sports bra. I let myself look just for a second. Eyes roaming over her broad shoulders, the muscles in her stomach, the silver chain with a cross on it. It didn’t hurt to look now and then - as long as I didn’t ogle.

One by one Paige and I carry heavy boxes full of bottles inside Ted’s, though I’m slightly distracted by the way the blonde’s back muscles flex when she picks a box up, the way her jaw flexes when it’s a little too heavy for her. A bead of sweat trickles from her neck downwards along her spine as my gaze follows it, a heat pooling between my legs as I watch her.

Out of breath and slightly sweaty, I push my hair back trying to catch my breath. Paige takes note of this, blonde hairs sticking to her forehead as she walks over to me. This September heat was no joke.

Her blue eyes roam my face as both her hands grab a hold of my hips. A jolt of electricity runs through my body, her touch igniting a fire I hadn’t felt in a while. Our gazes meet, Paige licking her lips as her hand pushes my thick brown hair off my face. I find my heart beating so hard I swear it’s trying to make its way out of my chest. For a moment I think she’s about to kiss me.

“Why won’t you go get us something to drink?” Paige murmurs, her voice deep and gravelly in a way I had never heard before. 

My cheeks slightly pink I nod towards the boxes, my voice quiet as I speak. “But what about…?”

“I got it ma,” she assures me, never breaking eye contact. It’s almost dizzying, the tension between us. Reminding myself of what I knew about Paige’s roster, I finally look away, slightly disappointed when her hands drop off my waist.

Walking to the front I find the bar still empty of customers. I grab a bottle of water, chugging it in an attempt to bring myself to my senses. Don’t be stupid Valerie, everyone knows how this could end up if I make the wrong choices here.

Filling two glasses to the brink with ice and coke, I return to the back, eyes landing on Paige and her arms that flex as she lifts up another box, making my mouth go dry. I quickly sip the coke, ignoring the way my legs had been growing weaker the more sweaty Paige got. As the last box hits the floor and all the work is done, Paige closes the door finally locking the scorching heat out and grabs the glass from my hand. We both feel the same goosebumps down our spines as our fingertips graze, forcing our eyes to meet.

“Thanks for the help,” I murmur, my voice weaker than I’d like. Paige’s chest is heaving, whether from the physical strain or the tension of the moment I don’t know. “I owe you.”

Paige shakes her head, blue piercing eyes still locked in mine. “Nah, always down to help a pretty girl out.”

I hate that I blush, but I can’t help it. I hand the blonde the glass of coke and watch the way her throat bobs as she drinks, my lips itching to kiss there. I was falling for her tricks quicker than I’d like.

“I uh, how about you don’t have to pay for your Shirleys?” I offer, voice slightly shaky,

Paige grins and places her glass on a side table, leaning against the closed backdoor. “I don’t need anything free, trust,” she grins, heavy lidded eyes looking down at me. “Besides, how will I tip you then?”

“You tip way too much,” I giggle, brushing my fingertips through my long brown locks.

Paige shrugs. “I tip just enough,” she murmurs hoarsely, licking her lips as her fingers come up to toy with the ends of my hair. I swallow hard, my panties growing damp between my thighs. The blonde breathes out heavily through her nostrils, still watching me. “Just come see a game and we’re even.”

My eyelids flutter shut when Paige’s hand carefully moves from my hair to the side of my jaw and I can’t help but nod. 

“Okay,” I murmur breathlessly, head spinning with need.

Licking her lips, Paige’s eyes land on mine. “Valerie?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“O-okay.”

With all my restraint, all my plans to stay strong forgotten, I do the exact opposite of what I planned. Paige leans down and her lips crash into mine, an involuntary moan leaving my mouth. My stomach flutters as I lean into her, my hands wrapping around her neck as I get on my tiptoes to reach her better. The blonde’s hands land on my waist, pulling my body closer to her, breathing heavily through her nose. 

It’s dizzying, the way she kisses me, the way her touch feels against my skin leaving a trail of fire in its wake. I feel completely overwhelmed yet dying for more, all the patience leaving my body at once. Like reading my mind, Paige’s hands fall from my waist to my ass, gripping harshly as she groans against my lips. My core is already throbbing, the sounds coming out of the girl kissing me only making it worse.

There’s a sense of urgency when Paige backs me into the side table, sitting me on it. My legs quickly wrap around her waist as her tongue slides over my bottom lip before biting on it gently. I let out a whimper that makes the blonde grin.

“Been dying to fuck you. Will you let me?” She pants against my mouth and I have no other choice but to nod, my body aching for her.

“Please,” the plea spills from my lips as Paige sloppily kisses along my jaw, all the way to my neck. She gently nibbles, eliciting a hiss from me when she reaches the spot under my ear that was most sensitive. She sucks on it harder, her hands gripping my denim covered thighs firmly.

“How wet are you?” The blonde murmurs, her breath hot in my ear sending tingles down my spin all the way to my cunt that was dripping. 

“So wet Paige,” I whimper, feeling Paige’s hands travel up my thighs and squeeze again, other hand pulling off my white t-shirt, leaving me in a black lace bra and jeans. Paige pulls back and watches my chest, licking her lips.

“Goddamn look at those tits,” she mumbles, more to herself than me before her lips attack my chest, kissing all over, teeth grazing over my bra where my hard nipple is poking through.

The lack of contact between my legs felt excruciating, like some sort of torture. With a whine I roll my hips into Paige, pulling her closer with my legs. Her blue eyes look up at me from my chest menacingly, hand coming to toy with the button of my jeans. 

“Tell me what you want, baby.”

Panting, I collect myself enough to speak. “Touch me, P.”

“I am touching you,” she teases, kissing along my neck again.

“You know what I mean.”

“Need to hear you say it ma.”

Frustrated, I tilt my head back, the need between my legs becoming overwhelming. Her hand was unzipping my pants now, torturing me.

“Fuck okay just touch my pussy Paige, now please,” I whine eliciting a smirk from Paige as her fingertips slip underneath my lace panties.

“You want my mouth or fingers?”

“Whatever you want just now please!”

“Oh you’re gonna regret saying that.”

With that Paige’s fingers make their way into my folds, gasping with me as she feels how wet I had grown in this past hour watching her work. With a practiced ease her fingertips press against my clit, starting to rub against it in tight circles. 

“Oh fuck,” I whine, my head tilting back. Paige’s other hand quickly covers my mouth and suddenly I’m reminded that any customer coming in could hear us from the front of the bar.

“Gotta keep quiet for me, yeah?” The blonde reminds me and I nod, my eyes meeting hers. My moans are muffled by her hand as she continues the movement of her fingers.

“Fuck, gotta take these off,” she murmurs, her voice low and hoarse as she pulls my jeans down, moaning at the sight of my black, lacy panties. “Gotta see this pussy.”

Her hands pry my legs open, fingertips digging into my thighs as she slides my panties to the side, my glistening cunt proof of how bad I needed her. 

Paige hisses, unable to look away as her fingers swirl in my folds, gathering wetness before returning to my clit, rubbing back and forth so fast I let out a loud gasp. The blonde’s free hand returns to my mouth, eyes warning me. “Quiet, remember?”

“Mhmm,” I mumble against her hand, my eyes fluttering shut as she speeds up even more, my pussy already throbbing, aching to be filled. Paige’s hand on my mouth pushes me backwards, my back hitting the cold wood of the table. 

“Attagirl.” 

-

My fingertips tease her entrance, circling around it menacingly. She looked incredible like this, even better than in all my fantasies, back arching and head thrown back, mouth covered by my big hand making her look even smaller for me. The sounds she was making were driving me insane, causing my own cunt to throb and soak all the way through my boxers.

Her hips buck, clearly not a fan of my teasing as she whines against my hand. God, I could listen to these sounds forever,

“You want my fingers?” I ask, panting just from my own need. She nods, her big brown eyes pleading, nearly making me come merely from the way she was looking at me.

“Two’s good yeah?” I ask, two of my fingers so close to dipping in. It takes all my restraint now to pound them into her when she nods. Instead I slowly push them in, my eyelids fluttering shut at how wet and warm and tight she felt around me, how I could quite literally feel her pussy throbbing around my fingers.

She gasps, her eyes rolling back at the stretch caused by me, and I can’t help myself when I lower myself onto her knee, grinding my cunt against the bones there making me groan breathily.

I start slowly pumping my fingers in and out of Valerie, unable to take my eyes away from her cunt, the way it’s swallowing me up, sucking me back in each time I try and pull away.

Hoping the brunette remembers to stay quiet, I pull my hand back from her mouth, kneading her left breast as I grind my own hips against her knee.

“More,” she whimpers, pretty eyes squeezed shut and back arching.

“Whatever you want baby,” I whisper, my own mind so drunk off her I couldn’t keep up with the composure I’d had in the beginning.

I push a third finger inside her, curling them just right to press against the spongy part inside her making her gush around my fingers. I could barely think straight, doing everything not to come all over her knee before she finished.

The sounds coming from her body are downright sinful, the wet sounds of my fingers curling inside her cunt making my legs shake. I don’t know how I’d ever get enough.

When I start pumping those three fingers in and out of her with more force, Valerie turns into a mess, her thighs trembling, body writhing on the wooden table and eyes squeezed shut, hands trying to grip onto anything they could - the table, her own breasts, even me. In a haze I offer her my free hand, letting her fingers grip my hand as I pump my fingers faster, palm hitting against her clit.

“Paige, I’m close,” she cries out, urging me on as her knee presses against my swollen clit in my boxers, forcing me to bite down on my lip hard to not moan.

“Fuck ma, so fucking sexy,” I groan, watching the way her head tilts back as her cunt tightens around my fingers.

“Yes, don’t stop, don’t stop.”

“I got you Val,” I moan, rocking my hips back and forth on her knee, my juices gushing out of me as I fight my eyes from rolling back.

“Paige, shit, I’m-”

Suddenly she’s covering her own mouth with her hand, her back arching off the table as her cunt clenches around my fingers, but I don’t ease up, I keep up with my movements. The way her face is scrunching up is enough to get my own orgasm to take over me, my movements on her knee turning sloppy and desperate as I come all over her while my fingers pump in and out of her. I’m unable to look away.

A guttural groan leaves my body as Valerie’s muffled moans fill the room, waves of pleasure taking over us simultaneously. There’s something addicting about it, the way we’re both riding out our orgasms at the same time.

“Goddamn,” I sigh, eyes watering as my movements slow down, enjoying the way she’s throbbing around my fingers. Valerie’s eyes flutter open and I swear she’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. We’re both panting, the moment over far too quickly to my liking. I could never be done that fast with a girl like this.

Pulling my fingers out, I kneel between the brunette’s legs, pulling the panties off her completely. Face to face with her glistening cunt I decide this is the most perfect pussy I have ever seen in my life - and there have been quite a few.

“Wh-what are you doing?” She asks me, her voice still shaky from her climax as she sits back up.

“Need to taste this pussy,” I murmur, my eyes locked onto her cunt, hands spreading it open, making my mouth water.

“Paige I have to get back to work,” she whines, looking down at me as I begin to kiss her inner thighs, pulling her legs over my shoulders. “There could be customers.”

“There aren’t,” I say matter of factly. Truthfully there was no way for me to know, but I needed to have my mouth on this pussy right fucking now.

“How do you- oh fuck.”

My eyes flutter shut at the taste of her, my tongue dipping inside her and slowly circling. I wrap my arms around her thighs, pulling her closer as I drag my tongue upwards through her folds to her red, swollen clit, lapping at it. I can already tell this isn’t gonna be a one time thing. There was no universe in which I didn’t get to have my face buried in this pussy at least once a week.

“Wait wait wait, too much-” she hisses but then I press my tongue flat against her and shake my head, making her gasp and throw her head back. I hum against her pussy, taking turns lapping her up sloppily and shaking my head against her, drinking all of her up.

“Valerie,” I moan into her cunt. I usually didn’t like saying the names of the girls I fucked during sex but something about the softness of the letters, the way the name felt in my mouth made me wanna repeat it over and over like some sort of oath, like a prayer.

“Taste so fucking good,” groaning I suck on her clit, listening to her hiss. “Could eat this pussy forever ma.”

The shake in her legs tells me I’m getting her there again, and her hands finally find my hair, making me moan as they pull on it suddenly. When my tongue precisely licks over the right side of her clit she lets out a guttural moan, my own need pooling in my boxers once more.

“Right there?” I ask, repeating the movement of my tongue, taking it as confirmation when she cries out and her back arches. Copying the movement of my tongue over and over again I keep working her, my face getting covered in her, my own spit dripping down her pussy making an even bigger mess. The thick thighs around my head are beginning to shake, pressing to the sides of my face. I pry them further open, with enough force to bruise her. The brunette doesn’t seem to mind though, her whimpers turning high pitched and desperate.

“Shit shit shit shit,” she repeats quietly, her whole body trembling.

“Gonna cum for me again?”

“Mhmm,” she mewls, nails digging into my scalp.

My fingers spread her pussy further apart, my tongue moving even faster on her clit now as her hips squirm, my lips following her.

“Paige fuck right there,” she gasps and I keep going, the strain in my jaw merely an afterthought, only thing on my mind getting the brunette in front of me to come all over my face.

“You got it baby, c’mon,” I praise against her, copying the movements from before as her grip in my hair tightens.

“I, Fuck-” she gasps and she’s coming again, pulling my face closer as she squirms all over the table, my tongue not easing up as the pleasure takes over her. I swear I feel just as euphoric, watching her like this.

When her whines turn high pitched I ease up my movements, wiping my mouth on her thigh before getting up from the floor. Valerie’s out of breath and her eyes are heavy, mascara smudged underneath her eyes and lips plump from the rough kissing. I don’t know what does it, but something I can’t control makes me lean down and kiss her. I never kiss girls after sex.

Just as I’m about to speak, the bell on the door jingles, returning both of us back to the backroom of Ted’s, the fluorescent lights suddenly harsh and overwhelmingly bright. 

“Shit,” Valerie gasps and starts getting dressed in record time. I watch her, my brain still mush from what we just did. She quickly brushes her hands through her long hair and rushes to the front, leaving me alone.

“Hi, what can I get ya?” I hear her faint voice a little too perky compared to how she normally sounded.

Wiping my lips I stare at the calendar on the wall marking everyone’s shifts, but all I see is Valerie. Blinking stupidly I wipe my mouth, my mouth twisting into a small smile. The heat in my cheeks and the butterflies in my stomach made themselves known - informing me that this girl would have me utterly, completely fucked from now on.

-

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(SORRY IF I FORGOT TO TAG)

[eskumii]

yandere!genin!sasuke uchiha + darling who's secretly half uchiha hcs

TITLE: " LIKE WATER, LIKE BLOOD " — navi. — general yandere!sasuke hcs.

NOTES: i've been randomly feinin over naruto again and this idea just won't leave me alone :'D don't press me on lore specific stuff i just yap and pretend it's true ok. also i accidently posted this b4 it was finished ... if you read that, no u didn't.

☆ you're no stranger to the fact that your mother had an affair with an uchiha man a few years before the entire clan was slaughtered like cows. your father had been a high-ranking official in fugaku's inner circle, but you had never learned his name, even when he secretly visited you and your mother on weekends between his missions and clan dealings.

☆ this is not to say, of course, that he was a bad man. he often tried to instill core uchiha values into you (never dishonor the uchiha clan name, always seek to carry on its legacy and strength, etc..) but nothing ever seemed to stick. you were more interested in the little trinkets he would bring you: necklaces, bracelets, hair ribbons, hand fans, and various other accessories that were often branded with the uchiha symbol. none of it was ever worn out in public, though, so you just hung them on your walls instead.

☆ after your father's death, you eventually distanced yourself from the uchiha side of your identity as it had always been steeped in secrecy and the fear of scrutiny from the third hokage/konoha elders/villagers who felt strongly about the nine tails attack. after all, you aren't supposed to exist. you're not sure what your mother was thinking when she got knocked up at such a politically fragile time, when the uchiha clan were still under fire for conspiracy and treason.

☆ at the academy, you intentionally avoid sasuke. you've probably spoken to him a handful of times—many of which were him telling you to get out of his way, or to shut up if you were talking too loud with your friends (your assigned seat was directly behind his, unfortunately).

☆ it isn't until much later after you graduate from the academy and are placed into teams that sasuke somehow finds out you're also an uchiha. whether someone told him or he just... knew, you do not know. at this point, you haven't seen him in months (you're on different teams), so him appearing on the landing outside of your open window is a very startling jumpscare.

☆ he takes one look around your room, which has uchiha merch strung up all over the place, and is immediately pissed at you. all this time there was another surviving member of his clan and he had no clue? and it was you, of all people?

☆ sasuke always thought you were weird and suspicious during your days at the academy. whenever he interacted with you, you would cower from him, almost looking ashamed. you were adept at everything he was and, as much as he used to hate admitting it, you were often his competition when it came to scoring at the top of various skill tests. looking back, it all makes sense: the blood in your veins is special, as uchiha children often are. as he is. and now, instead of callousness, he feels a kindling of pride at your excellence.

☆ it takes no time at all for everything to change between you and sasuke. after he barges his way into your room (you don't how he found out where you live in the first place?!), he forces you to explain why you lied about being an uchiha. you have no choice but to comply after his threatening glares pin you into submission and he refuses to let you past him until you talk.

☆ sasuke really doesn't care that you're a "half uchiha." you descended directly from a member of the uchiha clan so as far as he's concerned, you're his kin through and through. this discovery immediately sparks something primal in sasuke, like a desprate clinging to preserve what has been, and to protect what can be.

☆ you're often dragged away to secluded places by sasuke—the training grounds, usually. you try to fight but sasuke is just stronger than you and you are easily wrestled into defeat; a reoccuring pattern that makes you feel unsafe around him. but despite your growing feelings of contempt towards sasuke, he is brutally relentless in his pursuit of you or, rather, his pursuit of molding you into a proud uchiha who is willing to restore the legacy of his clan with him.

☆ the uchiha boy is a little worried that you lack so many of the values that he himself has been taught by his parents and itachi. you don't know much about the sharingan nor the clan's signature great fireball technique. so he starts there.

☆ let's be honest though: you're not interested in being lectured on the history of the clan by sasuke, but you're not entirely opposed to learning a new jutsu so you allow him to train you for now. whenever you mess up or ask too many questions, he'll sigh in very clear annoyance but bites back any insult as a mercy to you.

☆ you notice how much more patient he is towards you. how he quietly praises you when your little flame grows, how he immediately checks on you when you're winded from using too much chakra. there's a general closeness that never existed before (sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, physically guiding your hands into signs, or poking your forehead when you say or do something he thinks is dumb). it's all strangely... intimate.

☆ the frequency of his visits begin to increase as the days go by, and there were a few times where you would wake up in the middle of the night to see him standing over you. obviously, this scares you, and you have to keep sasuke's sudden intrusions into your bedroom a secret from your mother, so you begrudgingly agree to his strict schedule of meeting at his apartment at least four times a week instead of him breaking into yours.

☆ in the following months, you see a side of sasuke that you're sure no one else has seen. one that isn't carefree, but deeply emotional and reactive, especially when it comes to you. soon enough, he reveals his plan of revenge against itachi to you. you're shocked that he would go to such a length, and the sentiment is not shared by you at all.

☆ before sasuke leaves the village, he of course tries to convince you to come with him. you aren't a fool, though. despite settling into your uchiha heritage at this point, you're no destined avenger. you followed along with sasuke's strange intrusion into your life thus far, but this is where you draw the line. you refuse.

☆ "no? what the hell, [name]? you're an uchiha." he'll spit heatedly, arresting you by the hand when you turn to walk away from him. "your duty now is to kill itachi and restore our clan. don't think for a second that you can just run away from this. from me."

☆ and... he's right. one way or another, you find yourself a traitor to konoha for the sake of the blood that binds you to sasuke. what happened to his family, he won't let happen to you. this time, he's the one who'll kill to protect the one he loves, even if you hate him for doing it against your will.

[dominicfikeenthusiast]

UNSENT LETTERS (PART 6) / MATT STURNIOLO

“old shoe box underneath his bed, filled with love letters”

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

it had been weeks since you & matt have even spoken since that lacrosse game. no one even knows what happend. you’d seen him almost everyday, but did everything you could to avoid him. sitting as far away from him in class, hanging out nick anywhere but their house and not even carpooling to school with them anymore.

you’d felt terrible but everytime you saw each-other it was like a shared awkward state. you didn’t know what to say or what to do. it’s like your mind froze everytime you saw him. it didn’t help that nick and chris were persistent on knowing whatever the fuck happened.

you’d told brayden you just wanted to be friends. was that completely true? you weren’t even sure, but things were too complicated with matt to worry about another boy.

matt’s mood had been down for those weeks. his brothers were constantly worried about him. he barely was paying attention in classes or lacrosse practices. he hated not being able to speak with you, he hated the fact you were just ignoring him. “does she just hate me now?”rings through his mind every time he sees you. his journal was seeing even more of him now. constantly scribbling things about you, things he wanted to say.

“please talk to me, look at me, something”

“never needed you like i do right now”

“if i knew the consequence of my words meant losing you as a person & a friend, i would have never told you”

“nick & chris are constantly asking about what’s going on with us, but how am i supposed to tell them when i don’t even know?”

“i miss you”

“i notice how you fiddle with your necklace around me now, why do i make you nervous?”

“this wasn’t supposed to happen”

matt looks at his all of his notes. just from tonight. “this so fucking stupid and pathetic” he mumbled to himself. he got up from his bed, grabbing his car keys from the side table. it was the middle of the night, but he didn’t care.

matt was now parked in your driveway, he shot you a quick text. “you awake? i’m outside your house”

you yawned in your tired state, you were studying but were barely awake. your eyes flicked every word you read. you heard your phone ding, a text. matt? you ran out to look through your window, his car was infact parked right outside your house.

you didn’t even think to reply to the text, you just ran down the stairs not a care to the fact your parents might hear. you felt the cold breeze hit you. maybe it was bad idea to come outside at midnight in shorts & a tank top. you knocked on the car window, your body shivering somewhat from the chill, but mostly from nervousness.

matt impatiently waited for you, his leg shaking uncontrollably as he did. them he saw you read his text. most of him thought you would just ignore him, but a little part kept hope. as soon as he heard that little knock, a sigh of relief hit him. matt quickly opened the car door, his eyes glued on you.

“hey” you say, your voice soft but shaky.

·:*¨༺ ♱ ੈ‧₊˚ ✮ ੈ‧₊˚ ♱ ༻¨*:·

𝜗𝜚 - ps. this wasn’t supposed to be a cliff hanger, i just wrote too much on accident and had to stop 😭😭 also bye-bye brayden, sorry dude, you were just lowk just a chill guy 😕

𝜗𝜚 - tags : @ariana2saucyy @matttsangel @valxrieq @slxtarchive @2prcntmilkluvr @bells-sturn @sturnxies @iheartmattsbeard @chrislilcumslvt @mattsmiddlepartt @chrissv4mp @flouvela @chrisfavoritewhore @luckystarlogs @snowysosturn @x0x0bunny @anastasia-ac3rr3 @submattenthusiast @s7attr @jassturn @liasturniolo @mattslolita @ifwdominicfike @ilovedyoumiss @kirby0strombolli @milaatyourworst @ginswife @skibidijewishgirl @adoreechxmpion @lovesturni0l0s @bandanamatt @clairomatt @rorylovesmatt @pasteldreams @chris-hallelujah @y3sterdaysproblem @xoxo4chrisss @mattsd0ll @mattslverr @jetaimevous @clairomatt @maggot3647 @izzylovesmatt @kennastromboli @allineedismatt @delilahsturniolo @mattserenity @allisonclairee @sturdyyolo @heartz4matt

[playboysaleen]

Through Ash and Iron (4)

Jinx x Reader x Caitlyn

Summary: Through Ash and Iron plunges you into the heart of Piltover’s gritty streets, where you’ve always felt the weight of your family’s failures. Rejected from the Junior Enforcer Program, your anger burns brighter than ever—until one fateful punch changes everything. The eyes of Piltover’s elite may look down on you, but it’s the wild eyes of Jinx that truly see you. She’s chaos personified, and you’re drawn to the destruction she promises. But that’s not all. Caitlyn Kiramman, a poised enforcer with a soft spot for rebels like you, offers you a chance to rewrite your future—if you can control the rage you can’t seem to escape.Torn between the order Caitlyn represents and the dangerous freedom Jinx offers, you stand at the crossroads of two worlds. As your power grows, so does the tension between these two women. One promises a chance at belonging, while the other ignites a fire you didn’t know you had. But the choices you make will change everything—not just for you, but for both cities teetering on the edge of war. Who will you choose? And how much of yourself will you lose along the way?

Warnings: Violence duh, gay panic(lol), cursing, all that jazz (whatever you seen in Arcane is what you gon see here)This is also a slight AU.(She/her)

Word Count: 4.4k

A/n: Yall are going to HATE me but-

___________________________

The bar on the outskirts of the undercity is a rundown, dimly lit place, its flickering neon signs barely cutting through the darkness. You slouch in a corner booth, a glass of whiskey in your hand, swirling the amber liquid as you try to drown the noise in your mind. It’s not working, but you’re trying. Each gulp, each burn, you hope it’ll make the ache inside you go away, even just for a moment.

You drink until the room blurs, but it doesn’t change anything. Nothing can change the emptiness. Nothing can take away the weight of betrayal that you’ve been carrying. Caitlyn’s face flashes in your mind, sharp and unyielding. She was right. She was always right, and you were wrong. You can’t even figure out who you are anymore.

Then, from the corner of your eye, you catch a familiar silhouette, a shape you know too well.

Lest slides into the seat beside you like she owns it, her presence undeniable. She’s sharp, sly, with an elegance that betrays her dangerous side. Her raven-black hair is tied back loosely, a few stray strands framing her face, revealing the thin scars that run along her jaw, a reminder of her past battles. Her eyes are calculating, fox-like, with a sharp glint as she watches you with a knowing smile. The way she moves is liquid, smooth, and predatory, like she’s always two steps ahead. She wears dark leather, adorned with subtle details—a vest, gloves, a belt full of tools—and it all just seems to fit her perfectly, as if she was crafted for this life.

“Rough night?” Her voice is soft, but there’s an edge to it, as if she’s already figured you out. She leans in just a bit too close, the warmth of her body seeping into your space. Her fingers brush against your shoulders, her touch light but somehow full of intent.

You can’t muster the energy to shove her away. Instead, you take a long sip from your glass, letting the alcohol numb your senses. “You could say that.”

Lest grins, her eyes tracing you like she’s reading the pages of a book. “I’m sure you’ve got a lot to say, but I don’t think you want to talk about it. That’s why you’re here, after all.”

You don’t answer, your gaze fixed on the table in front of you. There’s something about the way she speaks that makes you want to listen, even if you don’t want to hear what she’s saying.

“I can help you,” she says softly, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “You just have to ask.”

You scoff, but her words still stick to you, gnawing at the edges of your resolve. It’s been a long time since someone offered to help you without asking for something in return.

She senses the shift, the crack in your armor. “You need something. I can see it in your eyes. And I can give you what you’re looking for.” Her voice is almost a whisper now, seductive, coaxing.

Your heart is pounding, but you’re unsure if it’s from the alcohol or the way she’s reading you so easily. She places a hand on your leg, close to your knee, her fingers lightly brushing against your skin, sending an electric pulse through your body. “Just say the word.”

Then the voices start. Jinx’s voice—familiar, filled with that chaotic edge—pierces through the fog in your mind.

“Don’t listen to her,” Jinx warns, though it’s almost a whisper. “You don’t need this. It’s not worth it.”

Then Caitlyn’s voice joins in, sharper, colder. “You’ll never be enough.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to block them out, but they persist, a clashing storm in your head.

Lest notices your discomfort, and her smirk only widens, sensing the conflict within you. “You’ve got a war going on in that pretty head of yours, don’t you? Too many voices, too many decisions. I can help with that too, you know.”

You try to focus, to push her away, but the voices keep cutting in, making your chest tight. You’re torn between the temptation to listen to Lest and the fear of what it might mean for you.

Then she pulls out a small brush, the tip glowing faintly with shimmer, and holds it up between you. “You could use something to calm those voices down. Just a little… release. It’ll make everything easier.”

Your stomach twists, a familiar, dark pull tempting you to take it. But then Jinx’s voice rises again.

“Don’t you dare.”

And Caitlyn’s voice cuts through, “You’ll never be enough. You’ll just make it worse.”

You slam your glass down on the table with a sharp crack, your head pounding. “No,” you say, your voice hoarse, a little too loud in the quiet bar. “I’m not doing that.”

Lest watches you for a long moment, her eyes cold and calculating, then slides the shimmer brush back into her coat. “Your loss.”

You stumble to your feet, disoriented by the alcohol and the flood of voices. You push through the door and step out into the cool night, feeling the weight of Lest’s gaze on your back.

But just as you turn the corner, you’re met by a familiar face, one that you didn’t expect to see tonight.

Jinx.

Her eyes are wide, scanning over you, her face a mix of confusion and concern. The moment she spots you, she storms forward, her voice rising. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Nothing,” you mutter, trying to stumble away, but she grabs your arm with surprising strength. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” Jinx snaps, her voice rising with frustration. “You’ve been out here getting shitfaced and talking to her?”

Lest, still lingering in the shadows, watches with amusement, but doesn’t make a move.

Jinx drags you back toward her lair, her grip tight but not unkind, as she leads you up to the rooftop. She slams you down onto a crate, spinning to face you with that fire in her eyes. “You were going to… with her?” she demands, her voice tight with anger.

“No,” you protest weakly, shaking your head. “I didn’t… I didn’t want that.”

Jinx glares at you, her eyes narrowing. “Then what the hell were you doing?”

“I don’t know,” you mutter, feeling the alcohol dragging you down. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I can’t… I can’t think straight.”

Jinx’s expression softens for a moment, but then she snaps. “Get it together. You can’t just—”

You lash out, your voice sharp and filled with pain. “I don’t know who I am anymore! I don’t know what I’m supposed to be!”

She freezes, her anger faltering. “What are you talking about?”

You shake your head, blinking back the tears that are threatening to fall. “I’m not enough for anyone, Jinx. Not for you, not for Cai— not for anyone.”

For a long time, she just stands there, silent, watching you with an unreadable look in her eyes.

“Stop,” she finally says, her voice barely a whisper. “You’re not alone, okay?”

You don’t say anything back. Instead, you curl up against the wall, wrapping your arms around your knees. You feel like you’re suffocating, and yet the distance between you and Jinx feels insurmountable.

Finally, she turns and walks back inside, leaving you alone in the cold night, the voices still swirling in your mind, battling with each other.

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

Inside, Jinx stands in the dark, her mind racing. The voices speak again, louder than before, but she doesn’t listen.

That small voice, the one that had always been there but never fully heard, finally rises above the chaos.

She’s the one. The one you need. The one you’ve always needed.

Jinx sat in her lair, pacing back and forth, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. The voices in her head grew louder with each passing second, each one demanding her attention, but there was that one small voice that she couldn’t ignore. It had been quiet for so long, but tonight, it felt insistent, urgent.

Go to her. She needs you. She’s the one who sees you. She’s the one who’ll understand.

Her heart raced, and her breath quickened. The words echoed in her mind, undeniable, undeniable. Jinx could feel it now—the pull. That same feeling she had tried to push away for so long. But it was there, undeniable.

She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to shut out the rest of the voices that screamed at her to stop, but the quiet one only grew stronger.

She’s the one. You know it. You feel it.

Her heart thudded in her chest, a frantic pace. She didn’t understand it, but she couldn’t deny it. The tug was undeniable, and without thinking, her feet moved. She ran out of the lair, her feet pounding against the cold stone floor as she made her way out of the building. The further she went, the stronger the pull became. The voice was louder now, almost guiding her, telling her that she had to go to you.

She rushed up the fire escape, every step an impulse she couldn’t ignore, her mind both frantic and clear at the same time. She was done fighting it.

When she reached the rooftop, she stopped for a moment, scanning the empty night for you. And there you were—standing on the edge of the building, as though you had been waiting for her. Your figure was silhouetted against the dim glow of the city lights, and in that moment, it felt like everything aligned.

She moved toward you, her heart in her throat. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t find the words. For a long moment, neither of you said anything. But when you looked up, your eyes met hers, and she could see the confusion, the turmoil, but also the longing, the unspoken desire to be understood.

You hesitated before speaking, your voice unsteady. “Jinx, I—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t,” she cut you off, her voice soft but firm. She didn’t want any apologies. Not now. Not when her heart was saying something else.

You tried again, your words spilling out in a rush. “I’ve been thinking about you. About how you make me feel. I—I want to help you. I want to be by your side. I—I want to be there for you, like you’ve been there for me.”

Jinx’s breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t expected this. She didn’t know what she had expected, but it wasn’t this. She felt a tightness in her chest, and suddenly, all the voices in her head grew quiet, like they knew this moment mattered. She couldn’t explain it, but she knew. She knew it was real.

Before she could think, before she could second-guess herself, her hand shot out, grabbing the collar of your shirt and pulling you toward her. The kiss was sudden, electric, as though she had been waiting for this moment. The world around her seemed to fall away. There was no city, no voices, no fears. There was only you. And for the first time in a long time, it felt right.

You kissed her back, surprising her with the intensity of it, your arms wrapping around her waist as if you couldn’t get close enough. She felt you, the warmth of your body, the strength, the tenderness. It was all there, everything that had been left unspoken, everything that had been building for so long.

Her heart raced, her breath quickening, but the voices—they were silent. For the first time in forever, the voices in her head fell away, and there was only the feeling of you, of the kiss, of connection. The night air didn’t matter, the sounds of the city didn’t matter. There was only the two of you, only the space between your lips, the energy that passed between you.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads touched, both of you breathless. It was as if the world had slowed, and in the quiet aftermath, you could both hear the sound of your hearts pounding in your chests. But then, as you stood there, still reeling from the intensity of the moment, you heard a voice. Faint, but sharp.

Caitlyn…

The voice, so quiet in the back of your mind, sent a jolt of panic through you. Your chest tightened, and you pulled away from Jinx just slightly, frowning. The guilt washed over you like a wave.

“I’m sorry, Jinx. I shouldn’t have—” you muttered, your voice full of regret. “I… I didn’t mean to—”

Jinx’s eyes flickered with confusion, but she didn’t interrupt you. She simply looked at you, as if waiting for you to explain. But before you could say anything more, a sound from the door caught both of your attention.

The door to the rooftop creaked open, the sound of footsteps echoing in the quiet night. Both of you turned in unison, only to see Isha standing in the doorway, her expression confused. Isha didn’t speak—but the way she looked at both of you said enough.

“I’m sorry,” Isha’s quiet presence seemed to say, even though she hadn’t uttered a word. She turned to leave, but you couldn’t help but feel like the moment had shifted. You turned to Isha, guiding her away from the rooftop with a heavy heart.

Jinx stayed silent, her gaze lingering on you both, a mix of emotions playing across her face. But as you walked toward the fire escape, you could feel the weight of the moment hanging between you and her.

Once you reached the ground, you turned to Isha, helping her along as you both walked toward the fort where you had gathered your things. Jinx didn’t follow immediately, but you could feel her eyes on you as you went.

In her lair, the voices returned, their noise swirling inside her head. But this time, one voice stood out—a quiet, insistent whisper.

She’s the one, it said, gentle but certain. She’s the one you’ve been waiting for.

Jinx didn’t know what the future held, but for the first time in a long while, she felt like maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t alone.

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

Caitlyn sat in her office, the silence of the room only broken by the soft rustle of paperwork as she carefully went over the latest reports. Her mind was still reeling from the events at the rally, from the confrontation with you, and the undeniable pull she had felt toward you. She couldn’t understand it, but she couldn’t ignore it either. Yet, as much as she tried to focus on her work, a nagging feeling in her chest wouldn’t let her go. 

The sound of the door opening interrupted her thoughts, and Caitlyn looked up to see Ambessa and Rictus entering. Both had their usual authoritative air, their presence commanding. Caitlyn, though still in her own whirlwind, nodded, signaling them to speak. 

“We have some information,” Ambessa said smoothly, her voice calm but with a cold edge. “It’s about the weapon used in the attack on the tower. We’ve been digging into the details and… we found something.” She paused for a moment, as if testing Caitlyn’s reaction.

Rictus stepped forward, his tall frame blocking the light from the door as he gave a sharp smile. “We traced the components of that weapon. Some of the materials, designs… They were linked to someone in Piltover. Someone who’s been making weapons for Jinx.” His eyes flickered toward Caitlyn, watching her closely.

The words hit Caitlyn like a punch to the gut. She felt a chill run down her spine. She hadn’t heard this before, but her mind immediately went to the worst-case scenario. Could it be true?

“Who are you talking about?” Caitlyn’s voice was tight, a creeping anxiety starting to form in her chest.

“Your little friend,” Ambessa continued with an eerie calm, her eyes locking with Caitlyn’s. “The one you’ve been so determined to find. It appears this person has been working closely with Jinx. The weapon that killed your mother… part of it was constructed using designs that belong to them.” Ambessa’s words hung heavy in the air, each syllable dripping with implication.

Rictus chimed in, his tone darker. “That’s right. We’ve traced the connections. The same person who’s been working with Jinx is the one responsible for the device. We have the proof. You were too trusting, Caitlyn. They were hiding in plain sight.”

Caitlyn felt her stomach drop. The shock hit her all at once, as if the ground beneath her feet was slipping away. She was frozen for a moment, her mind racing. You—could you really be involved in this? Was everything she had seen in you just a lie? Her chest tightened, anger building up, twisting in her gut.

“No…” Caitlyn muttered under her breath. Her fingers gripped the edge of her desk, her knuckles white. “You’re lying.” She barely managed to whisper it, as if trying to convince herself more than them.

Ambessa smirked, leaning forward. “We don’t lie, Caitlyn. We’re not the ones who were hiding in plain sight, now are we?”

“But she—” Caitlyn cut herself off, the realization beginning to hit her. She had trusted you. She had let you into her life, into her heart, even if she couldn’t fully admit it. And now, this—this betrayal. Her heart burned with the sting of it.

Rictus stepped forward, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “You see, Caitlyn, Jinx has been using her. She’s been building weapons for them—for Jinx. And now, thanks to this,” he said, tossing a folder onto the desk, “we have the evidence. She was working directly with them to help them attack Piltover. She is a traitor.”

The word hit Caitlyn like a slap across the face. “No,” she said, her voice trembling with anger, “this is not true.” She couldn’t believe it, not yet. But the evidence—she had to look at it. She had to understand it. But no matter how hard she tried, a deep, hollow sense of betrayal started gnawing at her.

“And you’re still trying to protect her?” Ambessa’s voice cut through Caitlyn’s thoughts like a knife. “She’s been playing you this whole time, and you’ve allowed it. It’s time you face reality. She was never one of you.”

The accusation hit harder than she expected. The shock of hearing it come from Ambessa’s lips—the venom in her words—was enough to make Caitlyn’s head spin. She could feel the rage building inside her, her chest rising and falling with every breath. How could you—how could you—do this to her? How could you lie to her face, let her feel something for you, only to betray everything she had ever known?

Rictus’s voice broke through the haze of her thoughts. “She’s working with Jinx. We’ve already sent out people to track her. If you want to find her, you’ll need to act quickly. She’s a liability now. And if we don’t take her out, she’ll take us all down with her.”

Caitlyn couldn’t stand it anymore. The anger, the hurt, the overwhelming feeling of betrayal that clouded her judgment. You were working with Jinx? You—the person she had trusted, the person who had made her feel something she couldn’t explain—had been playing her this whole time? She felt her blood boil, her hands shaking as she gripped the desk harder, her thoughts racing with fury.

She stood up abruptly, her chair scraping violently against the floor. “I’m going after her,” Caitlyn said, her voice dark with anger and determination.

Ambessa and Rictus exchanged glances, but neither said anything. They didn’t need to. They knew what Caitlyn was capable of.

“You won’t stop me,” she said, her words sharp, cutting through the tension in the room.

As she turned to leave, her mind fixated on one thing: You. You had betrayed her, and now she had no choice but to find you. To face you. To make you pay for everything. Because if you had truly turned against her, if you had been working with Jinx all along… she would make sure you didn’t get away with it.

And somewhere deep inside, beneath the anger and the rage, there was a small flicker of something else. Something that made her hesitate. Something that, for just a moment, felt like it might break her heart. But she couldn’t let it. Not now. She had to do this.

You were a traitor. And she couldn’t let you go free.

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

The warm sun bathed the open field in soft, golden light. The wind played through the tall grass, swaying it in gentle waves. Birds chirped in the distance, and the air was full of the scent of fresh earth and blooming flowers. You and Isha ran across the field, the sounds of her laughter ringing out as you chased after her in a game of tag.

She darted ahead, faster than you expected, her small figure almost blending into the landscape as she sprinted with joy. Her giggles were pure, carefree, and infectious. You pushed yourself to catch up, the ground beneath you soft and firm, giving way to each step as you closed in on her. She glanced over her shoulder just as you reached out, and with a gleeful shriek, you grabbed her in mid-air, lifting her up and spinning her around in playful triumph.

You both fell together into a patch of soft wildflowers, the colors of purples, yellows, and whites mixing together beneath you. The flowers tickled your skin, and the world seemed to slow as the sound of your laughter filled the air. Isha’s laughter was the sweetest sound, and you couldn’t help but grin as you both rolled through the flowers, giggling like children who had forgotten the weight of the world.

From the edge of the field, Jinx watched with quiet intensity, her eyes drawn to the way you moved with Isha, the way your smiles seemed so natural, so effortless. The interaction from a few nights ago—the raw emotions, the vulnerability, the tension—still played through her mind. Did you mean it? she wondered. Were you scared? She hadn’t forgotten the words you’d said, or how you looked at her, and it made something stir deep inside her. There was a longing, a confusion, that she couldn’t shake.

You playfully teased Isha about how you were going to catch her, your voice light and mischievous as you taunted her in your usual way. She squealed in excitement and dashed toward Jinx, her arms outstretched, ready to leap into her arms. Jinx caught her easily, lifting her up and spinning her in a whirlwind of laughter. You watched them, your heart softening at the sight of the two of them so happy, so full of life.

But then, your expression shifted. Your smile faltered, and something in the air felt different. Jinx noticed the change in your demeanor immediately. It was like the energy around you had shifted, something heavy settling over you. You stood still for a moment, your gaze turning toward them, locking with Jinx’s.

Then, with an unsettling calm, you took a few slow steps forward, eyes fixed on her and Isha. Something was coming. Jinx felt it too. Her heart skipped a beat. Her eyes flickered around the field, searching for any signs of danger.

That’s when the explosion hit.

The force of it sent shockwaves through the air, a deafening crack that reverberated in the ground, knocking you off your feet. You were thrown back, flying through the air, tumbling several yards before crashing into the ground with a harsh, painful thud.

Jinx’s blood ran cold as she heard your scream—no, your command—rising from the chaos.

“RUN!”

The urgency in your voice pierced through everything, and Jinx didn’t hesitate. She scooped Isha up into her arms with a swift, practiced motion and sprinted away. Isha’s small hands reached out toward you, her face full of confusion and fear, her quiet pleas echoing in the silence.

“I’m not leaving you!” she seemed to be saying, her face strained with the silent desperation of someone who couldn’t speak, but whose heart was crying out.

Jinx’s chest tightened. Her eyes blurred with tears, but she didn’t stop. She pushed forward, running as fast as she could, not even daring to look back at the devastation you had just endured. She could hear Isha’s soft cries, the child’s desperate fingers grasping at her in a futile attempt to return to you. It tore at Jinx’s heart with each step.

Behind her, you struggled to stand, your body trembling with pain, but you refused to collapse. Adrenaline surged through you as you fought off a few enforcers, desperate to hold your ground. The battle was brief, but your strength was fading, and you could feel it. The pain in your stomach was unbearable, but you fought through it, blocking blows, disarming attackers.

Then, the crack of a rifle.

The shot rang through the air like a thunderclap, and your body froze. The world seemed to slow as the bullet pierced through your side, the force knocking the breath out of you. Pain shot through your body like a lightning bolt, and you staggered back, barely managing to stay on your feet. Blood welled from the wound, warm and sticky, soaking through your clothes as you dropped to your knees.

Your vision blurred. The pain in your stomach was overwhelming, each breath a struggle. Your strength was failing you. You looked around, and your heart skipped as you spotted Caitlyn in the distance. She stood at the edge of the field, a rifle still raised, a cold look in her eyes.

Her gaze met yours across the battlefield. For a brief moment, your eyes locked, and you saw something in her expression—something cold, but also… familiar. It was a look that haunted you.

Jinx, hidden from view, watched it all unfold from the shadows. Her chest tightened as her mind raced, her heart hammering in her ears. She saw you drop to your knees, your body shaking, the blood pooling beneath you. She was paralyzed with fear, unable to tear her eyes away from the scene.

Isha’s small hand pressed against Jinx’s chest, her fingers curling around her as she whimpered softly, the weight of what was happening sinking in.

“I’m not leaving you,” Jinx whispered to her, even though there was no way she could keep that promise. Not with everything that was unfolding.

With a quick, frantic glance back at you, Jinx grabbed Isha and ran, putting every ounce of strength she had into escaping. The last thing she saw was you, crumpling to the ground, unable to move anymore.

The screams of the world faded as Jinx pushed forward, the only thing on her mind: finding her sister.

She wasn’t going to let you—or her—be lost to this.

————————

told yall… next chap later today (so much about to go down- this a long ass fic i wrote so hold on to your hats cause boy this meal about to be five mf stars)

[idkyetxoxo]

Daemon Targaryen - To Ruin or Reign

Summary - In a tense clash of vengeance and desire, she confronts Daemon, whom she blames for her cousin's death. As they struggle for power, the line between hate and attraction blurs, revealing dark truths and an undeniable connection.

Pairing - Daemon Targaryen x Royce reader

Warnings - Violence (threats)

Word count - 2415

Masterlist for Daemon • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

"You really ought to pay for your crimes," I whispered, my voice a deadly promise as I pressed the dagger harder against his throat. The sharp edge kissed his skin, just enough to remind him of how easily I could end him. 

My body was anchored over his, knees digging into his arms, holding him pinned beneath me.

Daemon's smirk never wavered, his dark eyes glittering with mischief despite the danger. 

"No crimes were committed," he said smoothly, but his expression told a different story as if daring me to prove him wrong.

"You murdered my cousin," I hissed, leaning closer until I could feel the heat of his breath on my face. 

The satisfaction of seeing a thin line of crimson bead on the tip of my blade sent a pulse of triumph through me.

"She fell off her house," he repeated, feigning innocence, though his eyes gleamed with something far more sinister.

I rolled my eyes, pushing the dagger just a hair deeper, drawing another drop of blood. 

The warmth of his blood against my fingers was intoxicating, a reminder of how thin the line was between life and death in this moment.

"You expect me to believe that?" I growled, lowering myself until my face was inches from his, knees pressing even harder into his arms.

He let out a small, exaggerated sigh. "I was quite saddened by it, truly. But," his voice dropped into something darker, "if it hadn't happened, we wouldn't be in such... a delightful position."

My stomach twisted at the heat in his gaze. I scoffed, disgusted at the thought that he could even think of something so base while teetering on the edge of death. 

"This position?" I asked mockingly, dragging the blade down his chest, leaving a neat, shallow cut in its wake. His muscles tensed under me as I brought the dagger back to his throat, daring him to keep talking.

His lips curved into a wider grin. "No," he whispered, voice thick with amusement. "This one."

Before I could react, his leg shot up, knocking me off balance. I barely had time to gasp as my back hit the cold ground with a thud. 

In an instant, Daemon was on top of me, his weight pinning me down, reversing our roles as he straddled my hips. 

My dagger, which had felt so powerful in my grip a moment ago, now hung loosely in my hand. With a deft movement, he snatched it away, holding it effortlessly at my throat.

"So pretty... so fiery," he murmured, his lips dangerously close to mine, his breath warm against my skin. His words sent an unexpected shiver down my spine. 

I squirmed beneath him, cursing myself for the traitorous heat rising in my cheeks.

"It's a shame, really," he continued, his voice soft, but laced with something darker. "You weren't offered to me instead. We could've had so much fun." 

His eyes flicked down to my lips, and for a moment, it felt as though time itself stilled.

I narrowed my eyes, refusing to give in to his games. "Rhea was a good woman," I spat, my voice venomous. "Better than you deserved."

Daemon's laugh was low and rich, rumbling from deep within his chest. 

"Perhaps. But that doesn't change the fact that you look far more intriguing," he countered smoothly, the edge of the blade tracing a slow, teasing line along my cheek. 

The cold metal was a stark contrast to the warmth that radiated from his body, pressed so intimately against mine.

I bit back a gasp as the blade's tip lingered under my chin, forcing my gaze up to meet his. His eyes were intense, flickering with something far too dangerous to name. 

It was maddening how he could toy with me like this, so close to death, and yet in complete control.

The tension between us crackled in the air, thick and suffocating, as if the line between hate and something else entirely was blurring with every passing second. 

Every fibre of my being screamed to resist him, but there was something undeniable in the way our bodies were entangled, something electric that neither of us could ignore.

"You may have me pinned," I whispered, my breath ragged, "but don't think for a second you've won."

His smile was wicked, his lips ghosting near mine. "Who says I want to win?" he purred, voice dripping with dark intent. "Maybe I just enjoy the fight."

Daemon's eyes flickered, that damned smirk playing at the corners of his lips as if he found my resistance amusing. 

The blade in his hand traced slow circles along my skin, daring me to challenge him, testing just how far I was willing to go.

"Maybe you like being on top," he mused, voice a dangerous purr, "but we both know you thrive on the fight. Admit it."

I clenched my jaw, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response. 

My body ached beneath his weight, every nerve alert, and every muscle screaming to throw him off me, but he had me pinned too well. 

The heat of his breath ghosted over my lips, his proximity maddening.

He dipped his head closer, his voice dropping to a dark whisper, "It's intoxicating, isn't it? The way we burn when we fight."

His words sent a pulse of fury through me. My breath hitched, but I quickly masked it, glaring up at him with all the venom I could muster. "You don't know a damn thing about me."

Daemon's grin widened as if my anger only fueled him more. 

"Oh, but I do. You hate how much you enjoy this, don't you?" His tone dripped with arrogance, the tip of the dagger now lingering just beneath my collarbone, teasing the edge of my top.

I seized the moment, pushing up with every ounce of strength left in me. My hands shot up, grabbing at his wrists, using the element of surprise to roll us, our bodies a tangle of limbs as we struggled for dominance.

I ended up on top again, straddling his waist, my chest heaving with exertion. I snatched the dagger from his grip, pressing it against his throat as before. 

But this time, I leaned closer, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his chest beneath me. He was breathing hard, his smirk finally faltering.

"Who's in control now?" I whispered, my voice low and dangerous.

His lips parted slightly, a flash of something darker crossing his gaze, and for a moment, I thought I'd won.

But then his hands shot up, faster than I expected, gripping my wrists with bruising force. His eyes locked on mine, the intensity between us almost suffocating. 

With a sharp pull, he yanked me down, our faces inches apart, his breath hot against my lips.

"You think this means control?" he rasped, voice raw with challenge. "Control is in your head... and right now, you're losing it."

The air between us crackled, our bodies tangled in a game neither of us was willing to surrender. 

My pulse raced, not just from the physical exertion but from the maddening way his eyes held mine—dark, daring, pulling me into something I wasn't sure I could escape.

The dagger was still in my hand, pressed to his throat, but my grip faltered as the proximity of his lips, the heat of his body against mine, sent a traitorous thrill down my spine. 

Damn him. I wouldn't let him win. I couldn't.

But I hated how right he was. Control was slipping through my fingers, like sand I couldn't hold on to. 

The fury, the frustration—it was all blending with something more dangerous, something I didn't want to name.

"You want to know the truth?" Daemon's voice was a low rumble beneath me, his hands tightening on my wrists, keeping me anchored. "I could've killed your cousin. Easily. But I didn't."

I blinked, shock cutting through the haze of lust and fury. "Liar," I spat, pressing the dagger harder, just enough to make him flinch.

His lips twitched into that infuriating smirk again. "I didn't say I didn't want to. I said I didn't. Rhea's death was... unfortunate, but I don't take credit for it." 

His voice turned bitter, a shadow passing through his gaze.

I didn't know whether to believe him, but something in his tone gave me pause. I hated how much his words affected me. The uncertainty gnawed at my resolve.

"You expect me to just take your word for it?" I growled, frustration boiling over. "After everything you've done?"

His eyes darkened, the humour draining from his face.

"I've done a lot of things, and I'll pay for my sins. But not that one." He shifted beneath me, his body tense, and for the first time, I saw a crack in his perfect composure. 

"You think I'm the monster in this story, but you've barely scratched the surface."

I froze, my grip on the dagger loosening just a fraction, uncertainty creeping in. Was this just another one of his games? Another way to twist my emotions, to make me doubt everything?

He used that hesitation to his advantage, one swift movement and I was on my back again, the dagger flying out of my hand as he pinned me once more. 

But this time, there was no smirk, no teasing. His eyes were cold, hard, the playful façade gone.

"You're not the only one who's lost something," he said, voice tight with barely contained anger. "You think I enjoy this? You think I want to play these games with you? I'm doing what I have to do to survive."

I glared up at him, defiance blazing in my chest, even as my mind scrambled to understand the shift in his tone. "So, what? You're the victim now?"

His grip tightened on my wrists, and for a moment, I thought he might snap. But then his eyes softened, just a touch as if he were letting me glimpse something deeper beneath the surface.

"We're both victims," he whispered, leaning down until our noses nearly touched. "You just haven't figured that out yet."

The proximity of his lips, the weight of his body pressing into mine—it was maddening, and yet, in that moment, the line between hate and something darker blurred completely. 

My heart raced for reasons I refused to acknowledge, and every fibre of my being screamed at me to push him off, to fight him. But I couldn't. Not now.

Because for the first time, I saw the truth in his eyes.

It wasn't just a game anymore. And that terrified me.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Daemon released my wrists, his hands hovering above me as if he were daring me to make the next move.

"Go ahead," he murmured, his voice soft but dangerous. "Fight me. Or..." His gaze dropped to my lips, his voice thick with an emotion I couldn't name. "Kiss me."

The challenge in his eyes burned hotter than ever, and for the first time, I didn't know if I wanted to kill him or... something else entirely.

Breathing hard, I stared up at him, my mind a whirlwind of confusion, anger, and desire. 

I hated him. I hated everything he stood for.

But damn it, in this moment, I wasn't sure if I hated how much I wanted him even more.

His fingers brushed my jawline, barely a whisper of contact, but it sent a shiver through me that I couldn't suppress. 

He noticed. Of course, he did. His lips curved slightly, just enough to show he was still in control, despite the thin thread of tension holding us both on edge.

"I see it in your eyes," he murmured, his thumb tracing a slow line along my cheek like he was savouring every second of my reaction. "That fire, that fight..."

My breath hitched, every nerve screaming to push him away, but my body betrayed me. 

Instead of shoving him off, my hands gripped the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, as if the space between us was suffocating.

"I hate you," I growled through gritted teeth, my voice barely a whisper, but even to my own ears, it sounded hollow, a fragile protest against the tidal wave of emotions threatening to consume me.

His dark gaze never wavered, the intensity of it burning into me as if he could see every wall I'd tried to put up between us, every lie I'd told myself. 

"Then show me," he whispered, his voice a rough, dangerous challenge. "Hate me."

And before I could stop myself, my lips crashed into his, the force of the kiss fueled by every ounce of fury I had left. 

It was raw, a collision of teeth and lips, neither of us willing to give in, both fighting for control even in this.

Daemon responded in kind, his hands tangling in my hair as he deepened the kiss, rough and unyielding, as though he were trying to conquer me, and I, him. 

It wasn't gentle. It wasn't sweet.

It was a battle, just like everything else between us—a war of tongues, a clash of wills.

I pushed against him, my hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging into his skin, but he held firm, pressing me harder into the ground, his body radiating heat as our lips moved together in a fiery, relentless rhythm.

Every kiss felt like a fight, every touch a challenge, and yet beneath it all, the line between hate and desire blurred even further. 

It was maddening, consuming, and I hated that I craved more of it. More of him.

When we finally broke apart, gasping for breath, my chest heaving beneath him, Daemon's lips hovered just above mine, his smirk nowhere to be found this time. His voice, low and rough, brushed against my skin. 

"You may hate me now," he murmured, his fingers still gripping my hair, "but sooner or later, you'll realize—this is exactly what you've been wanting all along."

I glared up at him, my breath shaky, my heart racing in ways that scared me more than the blade ever could. 

"Don't flatter yourself," I bit back, but even I could hear the unsteadiness in my voice.

His smirk returned, but there was a glint of something darker in his eyes, something possessive. 

"I don't need to. You'll come to me," he whispered, his lips ghosting over mine once more, "whether you want to or not."

And with that, he pulled away, leaving me breathless and burning, my mind a chaotic swirl of anger and desire that I couldn't untangle. 

He was dangerous—more dangerous than I'd ever realized.

But the worst part?

I wasn't sure I could stop myself from wanting him anyway.

A/n - Enemies to lovers is just 🤌🏼will forever be my fav trope

[alwaysanundertone]

Hey!!! Could you possible do marauders with reader who has a really bad fear of spiders, like she cries when she sees them and can’t sleep or panics at the thought, and a scene where the boys help her <3

An unpleasant encounter | poly! marauders x fem! reader

tw: mention of arachnophobia, spiders

comfort

You were reading on Sirius's bed, the sound of the rain outside creating the perfect atmosphere for a good reading session. Your boyfriends were somewhere in Hogwarts, pranking the poor first years, and now their dorm was pleasingly quet.

Your feet were dangling off of your bed, your book held in the air.

You were relaxed, finally winding down after an exhausting day of classes, when all of a sudden you spotted a furry, black creature crawling on your ceiling.

Your limbs froze, immediately recognizing the small animal for what it was: a spider. It wasn't even that big, not bigger than a coin, but still your brain short circuited as you saw it moving awkwardly, his little legs moving faster and faster until it hung directly over your head.

You jumped up, falling miserably on the ground on your ankle, while you still kept your eyes focused on its every movement, not wanting to lose it and find it on your bed later.

Your breath quickened, small teardrops collecting in your eyes as you saw his legs moving rapidly; you felt the panic engulfing you, like being trapped in a heavy blanket in the middle of august. It was overwhelming.

That's how your boyfriends found you, sprawled on the ground, your hand pressing down on the sore area right above your feet.

It was Remus who talked first. "Darling, what are you doing?"

You didn't speak, only raising your hand to point at the scary, black monster.

Sirius chuckled. "Love, I think he should be fearing you, a grown woman, then the other way around."

As soon as he reached for it, you released a screech. "Stop it Sirius! It's going to fall right on top of me and bite me and I'll die! You won't have a girlfriend anymore!"

You saw your boyfriends exchange a look, then James reached for your hand.

"Do you trust us, love?"

You reluctantly nodded, gaining a proud smile from him. "Perfect. Would you like to try something? We will stop as soon as you feel too uncomfortable"

As much as you didn't want to admit it, leaving with arachnophobia wasn't easy. You couldn't bring yourself to enjoy little picnic dates because you were scared of seeing some stupid spider and ruining it. You always felt like you were overreacting, but you couldn't help it.

You cringed as Remus picked up the lid of a discarded clear jewelry box from your desk, standing on top of your bed and proceeding to trap the little creature inside of it. He turned around, giving you an easy smile. "Do you feel comfortable enough to come near, darling?"

Sirius extended his hand, as soon as you took it he tugged you into his arms, making you gasp. “Hey there, love” He grinned, pecking your lips, a small smile forming on your own lips.

He turned you around, making a small gasp fall from your lips. “Just look at it for now, okay? I’ll be right here with you.”

Remus held the box tightly secured in his hands, you looked at the spider. At first all you could do was cringe as you saw his hairy legs move frantically to escape, you saw it moving around the small box, looking for a place go escape, coming out empty handed.

The more you looked at it, though, the more your feelings changed. A sort of compassion crawled its way to your chest, making you feel kind of… bad. Yes, of course the creature still scared you; yes, you still wouldn’t want it to be ANYWHERE near you.

Still, you didn’t want it to die no more. You started to hate the box, to find Remus hands cruel.

“Remus, free it outside. Don’t kill it. Please?”

He smiled at you fondly, nodding and making his way to the window.

You felt Sirius mouth breathing right next to your ear. “I’m so proud of you”

—-

taglist: @eeviee4 @sammyreid @sxmnc

Hi gorgeous souls I’m back ;) did you miss me? It’s been a crazy month 😭

[holylulusworld]

Bad Timing

Summary: He was in love at the worst moment possible.

Pairing: Alpha!Wolverine x Omega!Reader

Warnings: angst, unrequited love, idiots in love, a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, jealousy

He was in love. The realization hit him out of nowhere, at the worst moment possible. He stared at her from afar, eyes glued to the woman he loved. She smiled wildly and laughed at something someone else but him had said.

He dropped his gaze the moment her eyes drifted toward him to stare at the drink in his hands. The alcohol won’t help him forget how it felt to have her in his arms and bed. 

Why now? Why the fuck must he realize that he’s in love with her right fucking now?

Logan gritted his teeth to keep the purr wanting to escape down his throat the moment she walked his way. He avoided looking at her to not get caught staring. The last thing Logan needed was to draw attention toward him.

You passed him by without as much as looking his way. He huffed and shook his head.

Again, he asked himself. Why now?

Your scent drifted toward him in waves, turning the alpha into an even bigger mess. He huffed and decided to get fresh air.

No. He couldn’t be in love, and he wouldn’t be in love. Not when she… Logan shook his head to forget about all the confusing feelings, bringing him to his knees.

This all-consuming feeling spread in his chest. He hated it with every fiber of his being—or liked to pretend he hated it.

He had to let go of the fantasy he built in his mind. It was for the best not to yearn for an omega he could never have. Not the way he wants her.

“Logan,” your soft voice had him turn his head. You smiled and dared to chuckle as his eyes were glassy. “I asked how you like him.”

“I don’t know,” he angrily replied. Out of all days, you had to bring a date to the bar only the mutants knew about. “Bringing an outsider here wasn’t smart, though.”

You held his gaze. “You know, for a man claiming to have the perfect hearing, you’re deaf when it comes to listening to people.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said back and puffed his chest. “If you’d excuse me now, I want to enjoy my drink in silence.”

“Hmm…” you cooed, and wrapped your hand around his wrist, holding it in a tight grip to steal his drink. “You shouldn’t have another drink.” You replied and brought the glass to your lips to taste not only the whiskey but him too. “You know what they say about alcohol and libido.”

His eyes widened. You couldn’t mean that. Right. Right? It was impossible for you to feel the same. Not with the guy around you brought to the bar.

Logan cleared his throat to buy himself a moment to think about his reply. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” you replied so sweetly yet seductively that he almost creamed his pants. “Why don’t we get out of here?” You, the only omega he allowed himself to fall in love with, replied as if it was the easiest thing to say.

“Y/N,” he murmured. “What about your date?”

That made you smirk. “Well, I had to get your attention after you told me our arrangement is over.” You placed both hands on his chest, slowly rubbing him through his shirt. “Why don’t you show me that you lay claim on me, alpha?”

This time, he couldn’t keep the purr down his throat.

Logan grasped for you to throw you over his shoulder like a caveman. He growled as your date dared to step in front of him.

“If you want to breathe another day, get out of my way,” he threatened and slid the claws on his left hand out. “That’s my omega and no one touches what’s mine…”

Tags in reblog.

[babyonboard]

Ultraviolence | part 2

Bradley Bradshaw x F!Reader x Jake Seresin

click here to read part 1!

Summary: You and Bradley loved each other, and Jake Seresin was just your old friend from high school who you tried to pay no kind to. At least that’s how it used to be.

Word Count: 8.9k

Warnings/tags: 18+ MDNI, infidelity, Bradley sucks, angst, smut, oral, choking, Jake Seresin has a praise kink because I said so, a little redhead slander (I am so sorry if you’re ginger).

Announcement: Yes I know part one came out a year ago. Yes I know nobody cares anymore. I want to get back into writing again and this has been sitting in my drafts for so long.

It had been 2 weeks, and you hadn’t confronted Bradley. But, in terms of how he’s been treating you, it’s been paradise. Things were back to how they used to be, or at least that's how it looked on the surface. You wondered if the girl he was cheating with is still in the picture or not. You wondered about her a lot. It was really hard to not think about her. In fact, you thought about her so much that you had a clear picture of what you thought she looked like in your mind. Of course, she’s blonde. Shiny, silky, long blonde hair. She’s slightly shorter than you, with a slightly better figure. Her tits were bigger than yours, and her stomach is flatter. She had a bright white smile and a bubbly personality. 

You hated her. But you also felt sorry for her. 

Jake had been literally blowing up your phone. He called and texted you so many times. You responded at first, saying you hadn’t confronted Bradley yet, but you were going to. He asked you every day after that if you had done it yet, and you never responded. The only other text you responded to was when he said he was worried that something happened and you needed help. It was embarrassing, that’s the real reason you didn’t want to talk to him. It was embarrassing that you were prioritizing guilty attention over your own self respect. 

One day when Bradley got home from work, he was pissed. “What’s wrong, baby?” You asked from the couch as he kicked his shoes off. 

“Hangman’s just the same fucking dick he’s always been.” He mumbled.

At this point, you were all ears. “What’d he do?” You set your book down on your chest..

He shook his head. “Always in everyones fucking business.” He grumbled and went into the kitchen.

Interesting. You pulled your phone out and went to text Jake to ask him what he did, but when you opened his contact, you saw that he had texted you this morning and you didn’t see it.

Since you’re not gonna call him on it, I will.

On your day off, Bradley asked if you could bring his laptop to work because he forgot it. Of course, you eagerly got in the car and drove it to him. When you entered the office building on the base, you tried to remember your way around. And because you fucking deserve it, because of some kind of weird karma from the universe, Jake was the first person you saw.

“Hey.” He said slowly, his eyebrows furrowed. You half smiled and gave him a nod, hoping that was the end of the interaction. It wasn’t.

He came closer to you, ducking his head like he was trying to be secretive. “Can I talk to you?” He said softly. His presence made you want to break down crying in his arms. It made you resent Bradley in a way that was unlike you.

“Jake, no. Not now.” You shook your head, trying to move around him. He blocked you and you gave up all too easily. 

His hand came up to your shoulder, resting it softly on you. He towered over you, but he was still so gentle. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you but you never answer. Me and Nat saw that girl with Bradley again, they were in his car, and we were able to find her on facebook. Her names Clara and-”

“God, you're a lifesaver.” Bradley groaned in delight, entering the lobby. Both of your heads whipped in that direction. You forced a smile and laughed, shrugging Jake’s hand off of your shoulder. As Bradley walked closer, you and Jake looked at each other. His eyes had sympathy and a little bit of anger, and yours said don’t-say-another-fucking-word. You could tell it made Bradley physically uncomfortable that you and Jake were talking to each other. Actually, the energy in that room made all three of you uncomfortable. It also made him uncomfortable that neither of you were saying anything. “Did I miss something?” 

“No! No, here you go.” You held his laptop out to him, forcing a smile. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and kissed your forehead. You were so embarrassed you almost recoiled when he touched you. 

“I was just gonna show her where your office was. She looked lost.” Jake’s voice was noticeably different. It's almost like it went back to normal, he sounded so much softer when he talked to you.

The tension between Bradley and Jake was intense. They both had an obvious dislike for each other that was never there before.

“You wanna see my office, babe?” He looked down at you. You nodded enthusiastically. 

“See ya Hangman.” He said, pulling you away from the magnetic force of a man that is Jake Seresin. 

Back in Bradley’s office, you felt sick to your stomach. From the little information you were able to hear, he is not done with that girl. And now, you have a name to put to that stupid fucking face that you can’t stop thinking about. Leaning against Bradleys desk, you couldn’t help but stare at the picture of the two of you that sat front and center. It was from your wedding. You were both laughing, wrapped completely around each other. The happiness that you had in that picture, the happiness that was in endless supply, surrounding you every second of every day, was nowhere to be found now. You haven’t seen it for a while. 

It was different this time. When you first found out he cheated, you were sad. Cried whenever he wasn’t around, threw up, the whole nine yards. Now, just finding out that it is still going on, you were mad. So mad it was almost funny. For some strange reason, you wanted to laugh. An anger unlike anything you have ever felt in your entire life brewed in each and every cell of your body. It was white hot and it was making you sweat.

Sitting down at his desk, Bradley’s eyes were on you. “Are you okay?” His voice was worried, like he might be in trouble if you’re not. “You look sick.”

You nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine” You smiled. The familiar feeling in your stomach, the same one you got when Jake had first told you, started crawling up your throat. You were absolutely disgusted by him and it was making you sick to look at him. 

He reached out and touched your leg. “Come here.” He spoke softly.

You pushed off of the desk and away from his hand. “I have to go. I have a call- a work call- in a little bit.” You scrambled for an excuse. 

“Oh.” He said.

Backing up towards the door, he looked increasingly worried with each step you took. “Bye, see you at home.” You said, giving him no time to respond or question as you walked out. Out in the hallway, you could finally breathe. You stood still for a few moments, the cool air conditioning of the building filling your lungs as you took long, deep breaths. This time is different. He knows what he’s doing to you and he’s happily letting it happen. You were fucking done with him. Your legs started working again and you made your way down the eerily quiet hallway. That place feels like a museum, everything looks clean and untouched. 

As you were inspecting the cleanliness while you walked, you stopped in your tracks when you read “Lt. Jacob ‘Hangman’ Seresin”. This was his office. You looked around the hallway, saw nobody, then knocked lightly. “Come in.” You heard his muffled voice say on the other side. The door clicked as you opened it, peaking your head inside like you thought you would be bothering him if you came in. He was standing behind his desk with papers in his hands. When he saw you, his posture and his eyes softened. He dropped the papers onto his desk.

“Hey.” You said, still not fully stepping into the room. 

“Come sit.” He said. You shut the door behind you and you were finally able to let your guard down. You took a shaky breath and walked over to his desk. Not wanting to intrude, not wanting to make yourself at home, you stayed standing. 

You cleared your throat. More than anything, you wanted answers. “Can I see a picture of her?” 

He started walking around to meet you on the other side of his desk. His desk was much more neat than Bradley’s. Bradley’s was littered with pictures and trinkets and notes. Jake had a couple of awards on display off to the side, and that was mostly it. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Jake. Please.” You pleaded, trying to be as stern as you could even though your voice shook.

He looked down to the ground. Without a word, he pulled his phone out of his back pocket. It was silent as he typed a few words and your stomach started to twist again. 

He cleared his throat. “Here.” He had her facebook page pulled up.

To your surprise, she was not blonde. Well at least not all the way. She had strawberry blonde hair and dark eyes. And of fucking course, she had dimples. But the biggest thing that stood out was how young she looked. With a second more of scrolling, you saw “UCLA class of 21” in her bio. “Class of 21?” You gasped. You and Bradley were both 30. She was 22 at most. That pissed you off even more, you felt like you couldn’t even see straight. 

Jake grabbed the phone out of your hands. “That’s enough.” He said, putting it back in his pocket. You saw her full name, it’s burned into the back of your eyelids, you could look her up later. 

It was quiet again. Jake didn’t know what to say. He had a million things he wanted to say, but none of them were a good idea right now. 

“I’m sorry you got dragged into this.” You admitted shamefully.

“Y/N.” He sighed “Don’t say you’re sorry, none of this is your fault.”

Looking down at the ground, you were unable to meet his eyes. “I don’t know. She’s so pretty and she-”

“Hey.” His voice was stern, it made you flinch. His hand came up to your chin and lifted your head to look at him. “This was not about you. This is about Bradley being selfish. You are prettier than her. You understand me?” His hand was still gripping your chin. You nodded, eyes locked in his. “You are so god damn beautiful, and Bradley is fucking crazy for not giving you the world.” His grip got softer as he spoke that sentence, but he didn’t move his hand. “Got it?” He asked.

“Yes.” You agree softly. He was breathing hard and his jaw clenched like he was mad. Not that you would ever admit it, but it was sexy. Your knees started to feel weak. Jake has an effect on you that Bradley never did. Right now, it felt like Jake knew that. That he knew he had some otherworldly effect on you and your knees were getting weaker by the millisecond. 

“You promise?” He spoke, almost in a whisper. You realized he had dipped his head down at some point, and you tilted yours up. 

“Yes, Jake.” You whispered back. You could feel his breath on your lips, making your eyes flicker down at his. Now you couldn’t look up. 

Within seconds, everything that Bradley had done to you flashed through your mind in a blur. The most prominent image was him with that 22 year old fucking ginger underneath him. It only made sense to tip your head up further to kiss Jake. 

When Jake first found out about the other woman, he knew this day would come, and he swore he wouldn’t take it too far when it did. But right now, now that your warm lips were touching his and he could taste the toothpaste on your tongue and it felt like his whole body was completely lit up, he didn’t know if he could stop himself.

It felt good in so many different ways. It felt good, like a sort of revenge against Bradley. It felt good to be kissed by someone who actually wanted you. And it felt so good because it was Jake. 

His hand on your jaw threaded back through your hair, his other pulled you fully against him. He kissed you eagerly, like he couldn’t get enough. Your heart was pounding so hard that it felt like it was about to explode out of your chest, like your whole body was struck by lightning and each one of your nerve endings was on fire. It was feverish and nerve wracking and wrong but so fucking right. He backed you up until the back of your thighs hit the edge of his desk, making the desk shift slightly on the floor. Both of his large hands cupped your face, his fingers reaching to the back of your neck. 

His hips pushed yours back even further; he wanted you on his desk. Of course, you complied. His big, shiny desk creaked as you adjusted yourself on it and opened your legs to let him stand in between them. Your shorts rode up your thighs and his hands were on that exposed skin immediately. The only sound in the room was both of your heavy breathing. Your tongue swiped along his bottom lip, which he took as a green light to stick his tongue in your mouth. This was the most exhilarated you had felt in years. It was different from the many make out sessions you had with Bradley throughout your life, it was so much more intense. There was so much more meaning behind it, so much fire. 

It’s obvious to anyone with a brain that Jake is rough in nature, especially in bed. Oddly enough, he was taking it easy on you thus far. That is until you felt his fingers graze against your neck, seemingly testing the waters. You tried to kiss him harder, tried to say yes without actually saying it. He must’ve got the message, his huge hand covered your throat, his fingers wrapping around it. It wasn’t choking as much as it was holding you in place. His teeth pulling your lip made a short whine come from the back of your throat, completely unintentionally. This made him rip his lips away from yours, his hand still holding your throat. 

He held your face an inch away from his. “Did you lock the door?” He sounded so different, his voice was so much deeper, so much darker than normal.

You managed to shake your head within his grasp. The door isn’t locked, there is no way you could have predicted this was going to happen when you walked in 10 minutes ago. It was logical to assume he was going to go lock it, your husband was literally two doors away. Jake Seresin is anything but logical, you should know this by now. He kissed you again, so much dirtier this time. Wasting zero time, his hands were back on your thighs. Unexpectedly, your legs were lifted off the desk and pulled forward, leaving you laying on the desk. Jake pulling your shorts and underwear down your legs, kneeling as he did so, was a sight to fucking behold. 

A loud sigh left his mouth as he set his gaze on your pussy. It was nothing short of heavenly, celestial even. For the last 8 years, you were forbidden fruit, and now he’s on his knees right in front of you, ready to taste you, ready to sin. 

Stopping didn’t cross your mind once. Actually the only thing on your mind the whole time was more. It wasn’t even revenge at this point, it was desire in its purest form. Papers on his desk shifted under your hair, a few of them slipping onto the floor, not that you noticed. 

Slowly, almost experimentally, he runs a single finger through your slit. It struck you that it was gonna be really hard to stay quiet. “You this wet for me?” He faked flattery, pulling his finger away. 

“Jake, please.” You whined. Trying to get him to do something, you lifted your legs up so your calves rested on your shoulders. 

“I wanna take my time with you.” He pressed a kiss to your clit, the light touch sending jolts throughout your whole body. “Give you what you deserve.”

Apparently, ‘taking his time with you’ meant diving into you and going absolutely feral. It was feverish, the way he licked and sucked you was so greedy. There was no time for you to feel bad about squeezing his head between your thighs, but you suspected he liked it anyway. He does. His nails dug into your thighs so he could hold onto you for leverage. There was no way of telling if he was sucking or biting your clit, but whatever it was, it made your vision blurry and your thoughts completely disappear. It was necessary for one of your hands to cover your mouth or else this whole office would know how good Jake is. 

All this time, his cockiness was not for nothing. You understood why he had girls obsessed and delusional, you would do the same for this treatment. Maybe he’s had a lot of practice, but there is no way he is this fierce with every other girl. He was making you feel like you were the only girl in the world, like your head was spinning. He didn’t use his fingers, he really didn’t need to, his mouth already had you fighting to not cum so quickly. Ever intuitive, the only time he broke away from you was to say “Give it to me” against you. His deep voice sent vibrations through your core to your fingertips. The bright fluorescent light above you seemed to expand as your vision went white. The air left your lungs, your head spun, every muscle in your body tensed. His tongue worked you through your orgasm perfectly, and he let you grind against him as you hit your peak. “Good fucking girl.” He moaned against you.

Once he was positive you were done, he reluctantly pulled away. If he had it his way, he would keep you just like this all day. You couldn’t sit up yet, all you could do was lay there and catch your breath. 

Jake knew this was bad. Not because you were his best friend's wife, but because now he had a taste and he knows he won’t be able to stop any time soon. He picked your underwear up off of the floor and gently slid them onto your shaky legs. You let him dress you again, eyes still closed. When he was done, you sat up and the look he gave you was nothing short of sinister. 

He leaned his hands on the desk on either side of you, looking at you like he wanted you to say something. You brought your hands up to either side of his face and kissed him in response, words could not do what he just did to you justice. This kiss was much slower than the rest, he let you taste yourself on his lips. 

Two voices talking in the hallway passed his door, making the two of you jump apart. The voices faded down the hallway, leaving the two of you tensed. For a second, the only thing either of you could do was look at each other. Every emotion possible coursed through your body, and you didn’t know whether to smile or cry or laugh or kiss him again. 

“Jesus, Y/N.” He finally spoke, stunned and shakily. “I didn’t think that was actually ever gonna happen.”

That made you smile. He had thought about it before, which came as no surprise. The cold air of the office washed over you, bringing you back into reality. “You are…” Words failed you, nothing could describe how you felt. “So good.”

Of course, his cocky smile made an appearance. You could no longer judge him for it, he has every right in the world to be cocky. “You better leave before your husband sees you here.” He backed up to let you get off his desk. 

“Yeah.” You agreed begrudgingly, looking down at the ground. You got a sight of your legs, your thighs were glistening and there were nail marks in them. 

As you stepped away from him, he grabbed your arm. “This isn’t a one time thing. At least not for me.” He spoke inches from your ear. “And lock the door next time.”

You swallowed. “Okay.” 

Back at home, you had 2 hours before Bradley got back. You had done your mourning of the relationship, you had spent your time wishing Bradley was different for weeks. Wishing he was sorry. But he’s not. And he’s never going to be. You could continue to be sad, continue to be a victim, continue to cry every day. But there were some other options.

A quick google search of the name that was burned into the back of your eyelids; Clara Bitner, you found her facebook. There was a time where you felt sorry for her. Bradley had obviously lied to her and she got caught up in something she didn’t even understand, so she was probably hurt too. But now that you know she has chosen to continue seeing your husband when she knows he’s married, you hate her. It’s so unfortunate that she was pretty. It would help if you could look at her pictures and say she was ugly, but that wasn’t an option. She had long strawberry blonde hair with deep brown eyes and classic southern charm. She was from Tennessee, but she went to UCLA, and now she’s a kindergarten teacher. “Of fucking course.” You scoffed at her occupation. Is there anything bad about this girl? She had a lot of friends and she lived in a beach condo maybe 20 minutes from here. You had been scrolling for a while, and a certain picture made you stop in your fucking tracks. It was a picture from her 22nd birthday dinner, all of her friends sitting around the table smiling, and there was Bradley. He was sitting next to her with his hand resting on her leg, with a huge fucking smile on his face. It was posted 4 months ago. If he was important to her enough to go to her birthday dinner four months ago, you didn’t want to know how long they had been seeing each other. 

How did he have time for this? This wasn’t a hook up, it wasn’t an affair, it was a second life. You began to think about all of the flight tours, weekend trips, and week long missions he had gone on in the past year. How many of those were lies?

Your marriage is completely ruined, 100% done. You could mope about it. Or you could keep having fun of your own.

By the time you heard the garage door opening, you were in the kitchen making dinner. You played the song “Jolene” by Dolly Parton because it was ironic and weirdly specific to your life right now. And it was just plain funny. 

 The front door opened and you turned the volume up. “Hey baby!” He shouted from the front of the house.

“Hi!” You said. Acting normal was going to be harder than you thought. You heard him playing with the dogs for a moment, baby talking and petting them. 

His footsteps approached the kitchen and you took a deep breath. “God, you look sexy.” He said.

You were wearing shorts and a t-shirt and no makeup. You brushed off his comment as guilty flattery.

He came up and you had to brace yourself. He wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed the side of your neck. It made you fucking sick. 

Not replying, you started humming along to the music. He swayed with you for a moment so you started singing.

You’re beauty is beyond compare,

With flaming locks of auburn hair,

Ivory skin, and eyes of emerald green.

“I love this song.” You stated. 

“Mhm. Dolly’s the best.” He unwrapped his arms from you.

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene

I'm begging of you please don't take my man.

He side eyed you and you stared right back at him. Yet, in perfect Bradley nature, he played it cool, walking to the other side of the counter.

“Poor Dolly.” You sighed. “Especially since that bitch Jolene is ginger. That just plain sucks, getting cheated on with a red head.” Trying to focus on the pot you were stirring, you couldn’t help but look up at him. His tongue was in his cheek and he had a terrified glint in his eyes.

“What?” You asked innocently.

“Nothin’.” He shook his head and walked away. 

This was kinda fun.

“You have any plans tonight?” You asked Bradley over dinner. It was a Friday, so you figured he was going somewhere, be it with Clara or not.

“Eh, Jake and Javy wanna go watch the game at a bar, I’ll probably go.” He said. “D’ you?”

That was probably a lie. “I think Jenna wants me to come meet her baby, so I’ll probably go over there. Plus she said she needs a wine night.” Jenna was your coworker, and she hasn’t even had her baby yet. It was so empowering to lie back.

While Bradley did the dishes, you got out your phone to clear some things up.

Are you hanging out with Bradley tonight?

“What time do you think you’re gonna go?” You asked from the table. His eyes were on the dishes and it was incredible how he lied so often without flinching while it made your adrenaline rush and your heart pound. 

“7:30, 8?” He said. 

No? Is he saying I am?

The feeling you got was the perfect definition of disappointed but not surprised. It’s a confirmed lie now. “Okay, that’s probably what time I’ll leave too.”

Yes. He’s leaving at 8. Can I come over then?

Of course.

Were you doing this purely to get back at Bradley? No, not entirely. That was a huge driving factor in your actual actions towards Jake, but you’ve always wanted to, so part of it is something you’ve always wanted. 

Not long after dinner was cleaned up, Bradley was kissing your forehead and heading out the door. You watched out the window as his car pulled out of the driveway, and once it disappeared down the street, you rushed up to your room. There was a lacy black bra and thong set you had just bought waiting for you in your closet. Once you pulled it on, you admired yourself in the mirror. If Bradley won’t appreciate it, Jake sure will. You exchanged your t-shirt for a sweatshirt, you didn’t want to look like you were trying. Obviously, you were. 

After spraying yourself with perfume and taking too long to decide what scent of lotion you wanted to use, you nearly ran down stairs and slipped your shoes on. A quick goodbye to the dogs and you were out the door. It seemed that every time you drove to Jake’s you were rushing. While you were driving you thought about what you were going to do when you got there, fully intending to be bold and get straight to it. The fluttering nervousness in your stomach made you feel like you were a teenager again, you hadn’t been nervous to see a boy in years. When you pulled in the driveway, the boldness started to fade out, and you almost felt shy. There was a split second where you felt guilty, your conscience waved a huge red flag and your brain told you this was wrong. One thought about where Bradley actually was right now, and you swung the car door open and got out. The thought that Bradley probably just got to Clara’s fueled your steps, and by the time you made it to the front door, you were seething. Hopefully Bradley has fun tonight, because you sure will.

Despite the vengeance coursing through your body, you knocked lightly on the door. All too quickly, the lock clicked and the door opened. “Hey, Y/N.” Jake said casually, like you weren’t his best friend's wife. He was freshly showered, his hair was still a little damp. He wore gray sweatpants and a white shirt that was entirely too tight around his biceps. 

“Hi.” You said simply. He stepped back, allowing you to come in. It was quiet, and when he turned around to face you, there was an unmistakable anticipation present. It made a shiver run up your spine and goosebumps breakout on your arms. He nodded his head as a way to say ‘follow me’, and started leading you through the house. Silence still hung in the air. It felt like a volcano waiting to explode, like the calm before a storm. 

You made it to his room, and your heartbeat started to speed up. It was getting real now. You had never seen his room before, but it’s just as nice as you expected. Jake has expensive taste, and his whole house reflects that. His bed was lazily made, but the rest of the room was spotless. 

He reached his bed and sat down on the end of it. The way his hooded eyelids cast a shadow over his eyes made you notice how dark the lighting was in there. Unsure of what to do, you just stood and looked at him. He led you here without a word, he should know what to do now. 

“Come here.” He said darkly, the voice you heard in his office earlier that day made a return. He spread his legs open so you could stand between them, a complete contrast to what happened on his desk. You still hadn’t said a word since you walked in the house, but you didn’t need to, your body said it all. The back of your thighs fit perfectly in his hands, and his shoulders fit perfectly in yours. His huge warm hands on the back of your legs made you want to melt into the floor. “Do you want this?” He asked, looking up at you. 

Bradleys face flashed in your mind. So did Clara’s. You nodded.

“Say it.” His grip tightened on your thighs. 

“I want it.”

“You want what?” He was really making you work for it, apparently.

You went to say it, but you hesitated. It sounded worse out loud. “I want you to fuck me.”

You swear his eyes changed in that instant. He let go of your thighs and pushed you back lightly, confusing you for a moment. “Strip.” He said. Heart in your throat, your jaw could’ve dropped to the floor. This was a lot. But you liked it. 

Taking a deep breath, you started by kicking your shoes off. It only felt right to tease him, so you toyed with the rim of your sweatshirt for a moment. You slowly lifted it over your head, taking your sweet time. When you finally got it off, you heard him exhale. You secretly thanked yourself for wearing such a nice bra. The dim lighting made his face darker, but you could still see the pure lust in his eyes. Next, you hooked your finger in your shorts and pulled them down, revealing the underwear you picked out just for him. Once you kicked your shorts off of your feet, you reached your hand behind your back to unclip your bra.

“Leave it.” He said. You dropped your hands and let him look at you. He reached his hand out to you, making you step forward and grab it. As he was pulling you towards him, his eyes moved all over your body. “You pick these out for me or for him?” 

Your face grew hot. “You.” You replied softly, your hand still in his. He used his grip on your hand to pull you down to kiss him. It was searing, and for a second, both of you reveled in the feeling. Without him having to ask, you climbed on top of him, stradling your legs on either side of him. When your core felt how hard he was under his sweatpants, it made your whole body twitch. If that’s what simply feeling him through his clothes felt like, you had no idea what was going to happen when he actually fucked you. He must have felt it too, his hands gripped your ass and pulled you closer to him. 

Things were moving quickly, but it was still entirely too slow. He flipped you over onto your back and sat up to take his shirt off. This was by far not the first time you had seen Jake with his shirt off, but by god, it was the best. Maybe he was flexing, but you didn't care. He was sculpted like an angel, like there wasn’t a single flaw about his body. His hair got messed up when his shirt was pulled over it, it ruffled the top. It only made him look hotter. It was hard to not notice his dick through his gray sweatpants, and simply the size of his bulge made you nervous. When he bent back down to meet your lips, you kissed him in a rushed manner. It was beyond the point of wanting him, you needed him. “You want my mouth again?” He asked against your lips.

The thought made your eyes roll back in your head. Yes, you undoubtedly wanted his mouth, but you needed him inside you more. You hooked your fingers in his waistband and shook your head. He got the message, but that didn’t mean he was going to give you what you wanted right away. He used both of his hands to pull your underwear down. “Slutty fuckin’ panties.” He mumbled. Your lips met again and it felt like you couldn’t spread your legs any wider for him. Without warning, without a single preliminary touch, he stuck two of his fingers inside of you. This earned a theatrical reaction from you, like it was the first time someone has touched you that way. While it wasn’t the first time by a long shot, it somehow felt like it was, you had never been touched like this. 

“Jake” Was the only thing you could get out of your mouth as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. When you tilted your head back to moan, he took the opportunity to kiss your neck. He felt like he wanted to moan more than you did. His mouth sloppily worked its way down your neck and onto your chest. It would have been smart to ask him not to leave any marks on you, but you didn’t care one bit anymore. Not while his teeth were pulling your bra down. He sucked one of your nipples into your mouth, his fingers were still moving in and out of you. 

“You’re so perfect” He mumbled against your chest. You had never felt a complement that sounded so sincere, just the sound of him saying that made you feel perfect. Under his touch, under his body, under his lips, you were perfect. His fingers curled inside you and your back couldn’t arch any higher, your whimpers couldn’t get any more desperate. He used his arm next to your head to sit up, looking you up and down. His eyes roaming your body didn’t make you insecure or shy, they just riled you up even more. 

His fingers were amazing, but they could only do so much. You both knew what you really wanted. “Please Jake. Please fuck me.” You cried. With one last particularly harsh curl of his fingers, he pulled his fingers out of you. He brought his fingers up to your lips, only having to brush your wetness onto your lips for a second before you sucked them into your mouth without thinking. A low groan came from the back of his throat when you gagged on his fingers, licking your own slick off of him. 

He let his fingers stay in your mouth for longer than they needed to be, purely for the way you looked while taking them. Your eyes bore into his the whole time, and you thought that if he was going to humor himself with this for any longer, you were going to take matters into your own hands. The tips of your nails dragged down his chest, over his stomach, and to the waist of his sweatpants. Teasing was an option, but you couldn’t anymore, your hands gripped his sweats as you pulled them down. While doing so, a realization crossed your mind; he isn’t wearing any underwear. That’s Jake, ever classy. 

He enjoyed letting you do the work, so he leaned down to taste your wetness on your lips. His tongue licked into your mouth, trying to collect anything that was left; the taste of you was addicting, he had gotten a taste in his office earlier, and he knew he was already addicted. You didn’t see his dick right away, but you felt it when you wrapped your hand around it. When you realized how thick he was, your heart fluttered. He was thicker than anything you had ever taken, thicker than your husband. A moan slipped from your mouth into his, and that was his tipping point. Before you could make any further moves, both of your hands were pinned above your head with only one of his. He used the other to pull his sweatpants down further, then line himself up with you. The sound of his breathing was loud as he slid his tip up and down your slit, making you squirm. “God,” he shook his head, his eyes glued to your pussy “you are so fucking wet.”

“Because I’m with you.” You said. It sounded like a simple observation to you, but to Jake it meant that you wanted him, you have always wanted him, the way that he has always wanted you. It meant that you were this wet every time you were around him, the way that he was rock solid every time he was around you. That thought was his breaking point, there was no teasing left that he could do, he slid himself inside of you. You knew that he would stretch you, but the feeling still surprised you. 

“Oh my god.” You whined as he bottomed out. He stopped all of the way inside of you, partially to let you adjust, and partially to revel in the feeling of being inside you. Everything was hazy, his vision, his mind, but he still was able to think about how long he had wanted this. Just the thought of seeing you with Bradley at the bars every weekend, and the fact that you were now underneath him, was enough to make him want to cum. Sweat started to bead on his forehead, and he decided to wait a little longer to start moving, his hand came up to hold your jaw, making you look at him. “You’re so big.” You croaked under his touch. 

His lips were an inch from yours, you could feel his breath. “Take it.” He spat. With that, he started to move. Even with your head against his pillows, you felt lightheaded and your eyes fluttered closed as he pulled all of the way out and went slowly back in. From there, he was no longer slow. It only took seconds for his pace to quicken, until his skin was slapping into yours and the sound was infiltrating your ears. The stretch definitely hurt, but the pain was mixed with the most mouthwatering pleasure. Without even trying, he was hitting the perfect spot deep inside you, and soon the sound of skin slapping was overtaken by your high pitched moans. Without realizing it, he screwed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw, making this last as long as he wanted was going to be a lot harder than normal. You felt his lips against your neck and with his face closer to your ears, you could hear his grunts every time he thrust inside of you. 

His hand was still on your jaw, and even though your wrists had been freed above your head, you hadn’t even noticed. His other hand grabbed onto your hair for leverage. It seemed like his thrusts got harder each time he entered you. “Talk to me, pretty girl. Tell me how you feel.” His tongue swirled behind your ear. 

“So good.” You choked out. “You’re so good, Jake. So, so, so good.” Rambles fell out of your mouth as your arms wrapped around his back. The feeling of nails scratching down his back was one of Jake’s favorite things in the world, so when your long nails stroked all the way from his shoulders to his tailbone, he threw his head back. He sat up so his face was above you again, and slid his hand from your jaw to your neck.

Your eyes found his, and the sight of his tanned, sweaty, toned body above yours made you throb around him. His pace was insane, the pain of him slamming into you was drowned out by the tip of his dick hitting your g-spot with every single thrust. The sight of him, the power behind his thrusts, his size, it was all too much. The tears that had been stinging your eyes for the past 5 minutes started to fall. The throbbing of your pussy and the tightening of your stomach told you that you were close. “J-Jake…” You stuttered. “I’m… I…”

“Beg.” He squeezed your throat. 

“P-Please.” You said the word that you felt like you had already said 50 times tonight. “Please, I’ve waited so long. Please, please, please please please” You rambled, more tears falling. 

“Fuuuck, give it to me.” He groaned and dropped his head, the sight of your doe eyes and tears were going to make him cum himself if he didn’t look away. It didn’t take long after his demand for you to let the wave of pleasure consume you. Mouth falling open, your whole body pulsed and your mind went completely blank. More tears welled in your eyes and the only sensation your body could make out was the feeling of his lips on your jaw. It lasted long and it was powerful, and when you were finally coherent again, there was a noticeable wet spot underneath you. “Good job, sweet girl.” He praised, his sweetness making your stomach flutter. 

Coming back up to hover over you, he kissed you. Believe it or not, Jake is not a complete and total dick, despite popular belief. He had told himself he would not ask you this question, that it would be crossing a line and it could upset you. But, when he pulled away and he saw how fucked-out you looked, and the feeling of your pussy clenching around him clouded his mind, he couldn’t help himself. “Does he fuck you like this?” He asked darkly, his face close to yours.

There was a clear answer. It was staring you right in the face. But saying it out loud just felt wrong. Even more wrong than what you were already doing. “Jake…” You breathed as a surrender. 

“Tell me.” He said. Your mouth opened to answer, then closed again. He raised his eyebrows, his cockiness reflecting in his eyes. To his defense, he had absolutely every right to be cocky about this. You shook your head. “No. Say it.” He said through gritted teeth. 

“No. No he doesn’t.” It came out as almost a laugh. “Nobody ever has.”

“Yeah?” His arms flexed underneath your fingernails that were digging into them. You nodded. 

His energy had an obvious change, the admission had done something sinister to him. He sat fully up and pulled out, earning a loud wince from you. All at once, he grabbed your waist and flipped you over onto your stomach. With one hand, he reached under your stomach to pull you onto your hands and knees. Only having been out of you for seconds, he slammed himself back in. You were already sore, and he wasn’t even done yet. 

Now that your big, tear-filled eyes weren’t staring into his, he was able to start really talking. “Y/N,” one of his huge hands gripped your ass, the other held onto your waist. “I don’t even want to tell you how many times I’ve thought about this.” The only response he got from you was a high pitched whine. “I felt disgusting for thinking about you like that, but I couldn’t help it. It drove me fucking crazy, having to imagine taking you like this every night, my best friends wife.” That probably wasn’t the best thing for him to say right now, but he couldn’t control the words coming out of his mouth anymore. Unbeknownst to him, it just turned you on even more. His thrusts started to lose rhythm, and as much as he would like to keep this going all night, he was coming unraveled. “I always knew I would take better care of you.” He spoke through gritted teeth. “I knew he couldn’t fuck you the way I could. The way you deserve.” 

It felt almost like you were going in and out of consciousness, like you could barely even process his words. Without warning to him or yourself, you pulsed around him and another orgasm poured over your body. No words came from your mouth, and by the end of the second-most powerful orgasm of your life, your body was nearly limp and your face fell to press against the mattress. “Jesus, baby.” Jake breathed. “You just… so much… fuck, where do you want my cum?” he asked, almost rhetorically because of how little time you had to answer. He pulled out at the exact last moment, and you felt his warm cum start to run down your back. He collapsed, trapping your body underneath him as his armed caged around your sides. 

Time felt different, and your hazy mind didn’t know how long the two of you laid there, breathless. Finally, gaining full consciousness, you felt Jake get off of you and walk out of the room. You were smart enough not to turn over, his bedsheets were already wet enough. The feeling of a cold wet towel against your core made your whole body jolt. “Relax, relax.” Jake said, his voice completely different than just a few minutes ago. As he gently wiped your back with the towel, his other hand came to brush hair out of your face, noticing your completely blank expression. “Are you okay?” He asked.

A smile cracked through your lips. You could say the smile was sinister, a I-just-fucked-my-husbands-best-friend smile, or you could say it was pure bliss, a I-just-had-the-best-sex-of-my-life smile. You preferred the latter. “Yeah.” You giggled “You could say that.”

His shoulders relaxed, and a very similar smile spread across his face. While he was putting his sweatpants back on, you glanced at his alarm clock. Nine o clock, it had only been an hour since you left your house. You sunk into the bed with the realization that you had all of the time in the world. Unintentionally, the math of where Bradley is calculated itself in your head. Clara lives further north, on the coast, about 25 minutes from here. Bradley has just gotten started there. 

When Jake climbed in bed next to you, the thought of cuddling made a chill crawl up your spine. For some reason, that felt like crossing a line. It felt more intimate than anything else that had happened in this bed tonight. But, Jake didn’t seem to think twice about it. When his strong arms wrapped around you, and you pressed your cheek against his warm chest, all of your inhibitions melted away. His hand rubbed up and down your back, and your eyes fluttered closed. The feeling of your eyelashes closing against his chest made Jake’s heart swell. Fuck.

-

When you walked up the stairs to your bedroom, the house felt eerily silent. It was unsettling. The stairs didn’t even creek as you walked up them, and your dogs were nowhere to be seen. You started to move quicker towards your bedroom, and you flipped the light on right away when you opened the door.

The sight of strawberry blonde hair splayed across your pillow reflected the overhead light. Your mouth fell open, and you tried to talk, but nothing would come out. Furthermore, you tried to yell, but it felt like you couldn’t even get a breath in to do so. You couldn’t even move your feet. 

Clara’s eyes opened, and she didn’t look shocked to see you. She sat up and met your eyes. A smile spread across her lips. 

Your whole body flinched and your eyes shot open. When you realized you were laying in Jake's bed, you were finally able to take a breath in. The realization made you relax into his arms for a moment, closing your eyes again. When the clouds in your mind started to clear, and you finally had a coherent thought, you realized that you were just asleep. In Jake’s bed. Your eyes shot open again, and your head whipped around to look at his alarm clock. It was 12:30. “Shit.” You gasped. Moving on pure instinct, you rolled out of his bed and started to gather your clothes. By the time your shorts were on, Jake woke up. 

“What’s wrong?” He groggily spoke. 

“We fell asleep. It’s 12:30.” You pulled your sweatshirt over your head. “I have to go home.”

“Oh.” He said. He was obviously not as freaked out as you were, but he wasn’t the one going home to his spouse. The room was quiet while you put your shoes on, and in the darkness you were able to make out Jake’s figure standing up and rubbing his eyes. 

“I’m sorry.” You turned your head to say as you walked out of his room. Fully intending to book it to your car, your rushed movements were stopped by Jake grabbing your wrist right before you reached the front door. He pulled you to his chest and kissed you. His lips were soft, and his hands held your hips gently. Only letting the kiss last a few seconds, you pulled away. You could feel your heartbeat in your ears and you wondered if Bradley had tried calling you, if he was worried about you. Just past his shoulder, you saw Jake's couch, the one you were sitting on when he had originally told you about Bradley’s affair. Just the sight made your blood start to boil. 

You kissed him again. “Goodnight Jake.”

“Goodnight.” His hands left your hips and one last glance was shared between the two of you before you were out the front door. No promises of this happening again, no ‘text me when you get home’, just a pit in both of your stomachs that said this was wrong, but there is no way we are stopping. The air was chilly as you walked to your car and you didn’t have it in yourself to speed home this time. You didn’t care. Driving slowly, you let the radio play softly in the background and when you turned the corner to your street and saw Bradley’s car in the driveway, you hardly reacted. The lights were still on, and with a glance at your phone let you know that he still hadn’t texted or called. 

It was 12:45 and Bradley was on the couch watching TV. Not unusual, but you were still quiet when you walked in. “How’s Jenna?” He didn’t take his eyes away from the TV.

“Good.” You kicked off your shoes. “Her baby is so cute.” While you hoped the questions would stop there, you knew it would be suspicious to just go upstairs right away. How does Bradley do this every day?

He lifted the blanket he was using up so you could crawl under it. His warm skin felt safe and familiar. As usual, his hand fell to your hair to pet it. Closing your eyes, you could already feel the guilt seeping through your skin and crawling up to form a lump in your throat. “How was the game?” You faked curiosity. 

“Mm.” He grumbled. “Philly lost. Per usual.”

You began to wonder if he actually watched it. “How’s Jake?” 

His chest rose under your cheek as he took a breath in. “Good, I think. Same old same old.”

“Mhm.” You agreed. Fucking liar.

An overwhelming feeling of disgust overtook you. He was lying, but so were you. You were just as bad as him. You thought back to the early days of your relationship, when you said you would do anything for each other, you would never leave each other, that you loved each other more than anything in the world. What happened? Where did you go wrong?

Tears stung your eyes and nausea crept up your throat. "I'm gonna go to bed." You sprung off the couch and booked it towards the stairs.

Bradley didn't flinch. "Goodnight." He spoke, eyes glued to the TV "I love you."

You glanced back at him, and maybe if he was looking at you he would see the disturbance of disgust and infidelity on your face. Regardless, you said nothing in response and walked up the stairs silently.

[slightlygaywritesslightlytoomuch]

Shattered

Ambessa medarda x fem reader. Heavy angst. Heavy spoilers.

Free Palestine

The weight of the storm inside your heart was unbearable as you stood on the edge of the battlefield. Piltover and Zaun were at war, and Ambessa—your wife—was at the center of it. You had loved her once with an intensity that felt unstoppable, but now, with every passing day, the rift between you had grown wider. The woman you had married, the woman you had once dreamed of a peaceful future with, was becoming unrecognizable.

Ambessa had always been driven, a fierce leader with an ambition that rivaled any of her peers. But lately, her goals had shifted—no longer merely about advancing Zaun’s strength or security, but about dominating everything in her path. Her thirst for control, her desire to destroy Piltover, was a darkening storm you couldn’t escape. She had allied herself with Viktor, and with him, the plans she had set into motion were irreversible. She believed in a world reshaped by power—a world where only the strongest survived. And you, though torn, still loved her, even as your heart screamed against her choices.

You had tried to talk to her. Countless nights, you begged her to stop, to reconsider, to see the destruction in her path and the lives being torn apart. But each time, Ambessa’s eyes grew colder, her words sharper, and the distance between you both stretched farther.

“I do this for us,” she would say, her voice firm, as if the ends justified the means. “For the future of Zaun. For everything we can be.”

But you couldn’t reconcile the woman you had loved with the tyrant she was becoming. Still, your heart ached with every rejection, with every fight. You couldn’t abandon her, not entirely. Love was a complicated thing. You couldn’t turn it off, no matter how much you hated what she was doing.

The day of the final battle, you watched, helpless, as Ambessa faced off against Mel. The two women, fierce and determined, fought with the weight of entire worlds on their shoulders. Ambessa’s gaze never left Mel, her fury clear as she tried to overpower her. You had never wanted to see your wife like this, torn between your love for her and the knowledge that she had become the very thing you feared.

“Ambessa, please,” you whispered, voice breaking as you watched her swing her weapon. But your plea went unheard.

Mel struck. The battle ended in a violent silence as Ambessa crumpled to the ground, her breath faltering. Time seemed to slow as you rushed to her side, pushing through the chaos of the battlefield, your heart hammering in your chest.

Her eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, the woman you knew was there, looking up at you. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice strained with pain. “I thought… I thought I could make it right.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you held her hand, the warmth of her fading away with every breath. “Ambessa, no… you didn’t have to do this. We could have found another way. I still love you. I always will.”

She tried to smile, but it was weak, broken, just like everything she had become. “I know… I know you do.”

But the words were too little, too late. She slipped away, and with her death, the last thread of hope you had held onto vanished.

You collapsed beside her, your heart shattered beyond repair. In the quiet aftermath of the war, as Piltover and Zaun began to rebuild, you were left to mourn the woman you had once called your wife. The love you had for her was never gone, but now it was tainted by loss, by the realization that she had chosen a path that led only to her destruction. The world had lost its future, and so had you.

[jinxposting]

Jason Todd x Jinx! reader Chapter 5

Your Robin

"Batman and Jinx."

"Jinx and Batman."

"We'll work on it."

That was the last time you'd seen Robin. It's been roughly two years since then. It was a mystery amongst vigilantes and villains alike. One day Batman has his sidekick, the next they both go missing for months. When the Bat did resurface it was alone. Until now.

Your heart soared seeing the familiar color palette of the Bird. Only for it to sink when you came face to face with a stranger. Mask or no it didn't take a genius to notice the obvious differences in boys. This one was much smaller. Shorter, thinner, and relied more on redirecting than raw strength. Your Robin was tall, built, and liked to punch his problems.

Though props to the Bat, they appeared to be roughly the same age. Or rather what age your Robin should be, assuming he isn't dead. You frowned at the thought. No. He wasn't allowed to die. He has to become the new Batman like you planned.

This Robin wasn't as fun to banter with either. He lacked the dry sarcasm you were accustomed to. This one was too bright eyed.

You sat next to a gargoyle, overlooking the city. You sighed. "Where are you, Boy Wonder?"

"Aw, you missed me?"

"Not you, replacement." You didn't have to turn around to know he felt insulted by the term.

You weren't sure of the particulars when it came to Batman and his sidekicks but you were nothing if not loyal.

"You gonna come quietly or do we have to do this the hard way?"

From the corner of your eye you saw the boy brandish a bo staff. Another reason to dislike him. This one didn't even get his hands dirty.

"Please. As if you could catch me."

You'd taken Robin's - your Robin - words to heart. You'd been practicing your hand to hand combat these past few years. More importantly, you've been honing your skills.

You clicked the button of your remote trigger. Several colorful smoke bombs bursted to life around you. By the time Robin cleared the smoke from his vision you were gone. You had no reason to linger here. He's no fun.

You sat, tinkering away, at your workbench. Bomb after bomb, always decorated in colorful scribbles. This one resembles a bird. Didn't take a psychologist to figure out you'd grown attached to the masked boy. Didn't stop her from pointing it out though.

"You still mopin' around in here?"

Harley skipped into your room, bells jingling. She came to a quiet stop at your desk. You looked up with a sullen face.

"Come on, little J. Don't gimme those puppy dog eyes." She sat down next to you. "I know you miss your playmate but you'll find someone new to explode in no time!"

"But he's my rival. The Batman to my Joker."

"I hate seein' you so down... Tell ya what, why don't we have a girls night? Just you and me." Her grin grew wider. "We can hit the town! Try out those new glitter bombs you been workin' on?"

You gave a melancholic smile.

"That's the spirit!"

You spent that night covered in stolen jewelry and sparkles. One of your most fond memories. Harley had a more understanding side to her than Joker. A gentler one. You admired her for that.

You eventually did move on from your Robin blues. Of course you still miss him, but you knew it was out of your control. You still didn't take to the new Boy Wonder. Batman himself grew on you however. You talked, he pretended to ignore you, but given he always answered your questions of lesser importance you knew he was listening.

You'd also become better acquainted with your fellow villains. You especially like Selina - Catwoman - she always gave the shiniest gifts. Bane was cool too. For someone so roided up he made for a decent conversationalist.

Riddler could drop dead.

Man thinks he's funny. He's not.

You'd also made a name for yourself. People knew that with the name Jinx came explosions and spray paint. Legally you were labeled a terrorist. You blow up one banking building and accidentally erase thousands of credit card debts and SUDDENLY you're an activist. Not your goal but a happy coincidence nevertheless.

Joker was certainly pleased. You were a harbinger of destruction and chaos after all. You and your dysfunctional, mad family were on top of the world.

But even still, between everything at home being good (or at least what you're used to) and being one of the most notorious figures in Gotham you still felt something was missing. You knew what it was. Who it was. The only friend you'd ever had. You missed Robin. Your Robin.

Little did you know far from where you sat in Gotham, half way across the world, a certain boy laid in a vat of green waters. Ready to be reborn.

[softroundbunny]

it’s been a week since our baby’s due date and baby girl STILL didn’t want to budge. we received a message from our doctor, reminding us that if baby doesn’t make her way out this week, i’ll have to go in to get induced. something i have dreaded since her due date approached, i hated the idea of a stranger forcing her out of the only home she’s known for the past 9 10 months. you held me as i wept and since then we’ve tried almost fucking everything to pop me.

-

you grimaced as i waddled out of the house, clad in my walking shoes, tight gym shorts, and pink baby tee that just barely contained my belly. “babe- i’m sure there’s something else we could try that doesn’t involve forcing you and baby to walk for miles.” i huffed out a laugh and looked over at you, “well, what else can we do? we have to get baby girl out this week”.

you looked like you wanted to say something but refrained. your eyebrows furrowed, deep in thought. i wonder what it was, was it another idea? did you have a solution to our “operation: get baby out”?

15 minutes later and we just barely got to the end of the sidewalk, walking was no easy task with an about to burst water balloon attached to my body. i talked about everything and anything as i waddled and you walked slightly behind me. your hands were gently grasping my waist, worried i’d lose my balance. you always were so protective.

as i finished up my rant on the importance of ranch and how i cannot understand how people hate it, i picked up on the sound of panting that wasn’t my own heaving ones. concerned, i glanced at you. you were panting, but nothing like my own heavy rise and fall of breaths.

your gaze was entirely honed in on my gravid figure. eyes flicking between my breasts, belly, and ass. it seemed like you didn’t know where to look. there was too much of me to look at all at once. as it dawned on me that you were turned on by the sight of my heavily pregnant struggle, i decided to amp it up.

i waddled heavier, wider. both my hands went to my lower back, arching and thrusting my belly more forward that it practically swung through the air. i panted and whimpered after every other step, grasping your hands against mine on my back so you could feel my struggles. i was just so pregnant, so full of your baby, on the cusp of laboring all because you didn’t pull out that one night.

hearing you gulp and feeling your hands clench on my waist gave me an idea as to what you had in mind to induce my labor. i felt that tonight just might be the night i pop. and the hard bulge inching closer to my backside just confirmed that.

[isak-dot-gov]

Communication

Pairing: Rhea Ripley x Reader

Word count: 1281

My Masterlist :)

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The argument started over something trivial, something that shouldn’t have been as big as it now was, but with the pent-up tension between you and Rhea, it quickly escalated. You’d always been reserved, used to handling things alone, bottling up emotions because that’s what you’d known. Growing up, you’d always been the odd one out—the youngest by a lot, with siblings much older who never quite understood you or took the time to try. So you learned early on to keep things to yourself, never expecting others to help, never even thinking about opening up. But Rhea was different, and that difference was what you loved and what scared you the most.

As her voice grew louder, frustration clear in her eyes, you tried to hold back, to keep calm and prevent things from going any further. But your deflection only made it worse.

“Why won’t you just talk to me?” Rhea demanded, her hands clenched into fists. “I tell you everything about myself. You know all my issues, my history, the things that haunt me. I’ve trusted you with it all. But you… I feel like I know nothing about what’s going on with you.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Rhea.” You mumbled, hugging your arms to your chest. You looked down, feeling like a child again, misunderstood, alone, just waiting for the conversation to be over.

She sighed heavily. “I want you to open up, to let me in. I hate feeling like I’m the only one who’s here. This relationship is supposed to go both ways, you know? But every time I try to be there for you, it’s like… it’s like I hit a wall.”

You could see the pain in her eyes, but you didn’t know what to do. The words were trapped inside you. Rhea was right; you hadn’t opened up about your struggles or your past because, for you, that was just how you lived. It felt as though the world was only safe if you kept certain parts of yourself locked up.

“Look, I don’t need you to fix everything, but I need you to trust me enough to tell me what’s going on with you. I want to be someone you can lean on, not just… some girl you agree with until I stop asking.”

You swallowed, feeling a rush of guilt. That was exactly what you’d been doing. It wasn’t that you didn’t care—far from it. Rhea was the most important person in your life, someone who you wanted desperately to hold on to. But letting her in, truly letting her in, was so foreign, so terrifying.

“Yeah, okay, fine.” The words came out sharper than you intended. “You’re right.”

Her expression fell, replaced by a look of dismay and hurt. “Are you serious right now? You’re just… saying that because you want to end the conversation.”

You had no reply. It was true; agreeing with her was easier than actually engaging with the uncomfortable emotions stirring inside. The silence between you stretched, tense and heavy, until Rhea finally threw up her hands, her voice thick with disappointment.

“You know what? I’m done with this for now. I need space. I can’t… I can’t do this if you don’t want to let me in.”

She grabbed her jacket, her keys, and with one last, lingering look, she left, leaving you alone in the dim quiet of the room.

As the door closed, you felt that familiar pang of loneliness, a pain you knew too well. But this time, it was sharper, different. This was Rhea—someone who *wanted* to know you, who’d reached out to you over and over, only to be shut down. It hurt, knowing you’d made her feel like she didn’t matter to you, when the truth was the exact opposite. Rhea mattered more than anything. And now, she’d walked out because you couldn’t give her that vulnerability, couldn’t open up the way she needed.

You sat in the quiet, trying to ignore the ache in your chest, but it wouldn’t go away. It gnawed at you, until finally, you grabbed your phone. Your fingers hovered over the screen, unsure of what to say, but eventually, you managed to type: Can we talk? When you’re ready. I’ll try to explain. I don’t want to lose you.

The hours ticked by painfully slowly until, finally, a message pinged back: Okay. I’ll be back tonight. Just be honest with me, baby, please.

When Rhea walked back in, her eyes were rimmed with red, her expression softer but guarded. She sat down next to you on the couch, and the silence stretched on as you both grappled for the right words.

Finally, you took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I know I haven’t been fair to you. You deserve someone who… who can open up, who can talk about things.” You paused, unsure how to continue. “Growing up, I was the youngest by a lot. My siblings were so much older than me, and I was just… the kid in the background. It was like no one ever cared what I was going through, you know? They had their own lives, their own problems, and I was just… there.”

Rhea’s gaze softened as you spoke, listening intently, hanging on every word. You could tell that this was what she had wanted—an opening, a chance to understand you better.

“So, I guess… I got used to it,” you continued, your voice barely a whisper. “To not sharing, to not expecting people to care. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. But somewhere along the way, I stopped asking for help because I didn’t think anyone would really want to listen. I thought keeping things to myself was just… easier.”

Rhea reached over, taking your hand gently in hers, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. “But you’re not alone now,” she said, her voice full of warmth and a quiet strength that made your heart ache. “I’m here, and I want to be here for you. You don’t have to be that lonely kid anymore. But I need you to trust me, darling.”

You nodded, feeling a lump in your throat as the weight of her words settled over you. “I know. I want to try for you. I just… I don’t always know how to talk about what’s going on inside my head. It’s like there’s this barrier, and I don’t know how to break it.”

“Then let me help,” Rhea whispered, leaning closer, her hand tightening around yours. “I’m not asking you to change overnight, but I want you to try. Just… a little bit at a time. Let me be here for you, even if it’s messy or awkward. Let me in, and we’ll figure it out together.”

You looked up, meeting her gaze, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a glimmer of hope. “Thank you,” you murmured, your voice cracking slightly. “For being so patient. I know I haven’t made it easy.”

Rhea shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Hey, you’re worth it. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t believe in us. Just… promise me that next time, instead of shutting down, you’ll at least try to tell me what’s going on.”

You nodded, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the weight of loneliness that had shadowed you began to lift, replaced by something warmer, something new. And in that moment, with Rhea’s hand in yours, you felt like maybe, just maybe, you could learn to open up, one small step at a time. Because for her—for both of you—this love was worth the effort.

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[mohntilyet]

i read the wigmaker job recently and there’s an idea that really stuck with me, which may well have been discussed before, but it’s really been itching at me. it came from this exchange near the end –

“i don't want to quit.” / illario sat back. the distance between them suddenly felt much wider than a table. / “even if it kills you,” illario whispered. / “death is my calling,” lucanis stated, matter-of-fact. “just as yours is to become first talon.”

(the bits before and after this give important context, too, but these specific lines are what gnaw at me)

i. really wonder if this conversation – and the long-standing beliefs held by both of them that it’s indicative of – contributed to giving lucanis to zara.

like, illario coming to terms with the fact that lucanis really just will. not. stop. for ANYTHING. his cousin WILL get himself killed doing this and lucanis won’t have any regrets. he’ll leave illario to go this alone. (no one to follow after anymore.) combined with the envy of knowing that lucanis is and always will be caterina’s favorite, and she will likely pick lucanis to be first talon even tho lucanis does not want this At All…

i wonder if he thought that, well, if lucanis is going to die anyway… maybe it’s better to have it happen sooner, rather than later. why put off the inevitable? especially if this is the one thing that could shift caterina’s gaze to illario and give him what he’s wanted – what he’s earned.

lucanis wouldn’t be happy as first talon anyway (honestly, illario seems to see that what lucanis is NOW isn’t so much ‘happy’ as it is ‘obedient and content to accept the scraps that gives him’), and he’s GOING to get himself killed doing this, anyway… and sure, they COULD wait it out. wait for lucanis to do something foolish enough that he can't just walk away from it. maybe he’ll even last long enough to be made first talon (if caterina can ever bear to loosen her grip from the title) and be miserable for a while. years even, maybe. before he, again, does something he can’t walk away from.

OR. or. or illario could cut through all the pointless waiting and get right to the point. go straight to where this was always going to end up.

(and maybe part of it is an extension of anticipated grief, too – the loss will be agony. if illario controls when and how it happens, he can control his grief. …except he hasn’t accepted the inevitability of lucanis’ death quite as well as he’d thought and when he gets sloshed at the wake, real grief seeps through the cracks)

i dunno. something about both of them viewing lucanis’ death as a foregone conclusion and how illario Might have had that shape his decisions.

YEAH . YEAHHHHH. i do also think the “to reason” exchange is what solidifies it in illario’s mind. lucanis is like 'this has been a productive if tense talk with my cousin. surely he sees sense now.' and illario is like ‘what the fuck. i think he wants to die’ <- okay im exaggerating a bit but i do absolutely see the end of wigmaker’s job as the start of lucanis-illario’s downward spiral. there’s a reason that it’s something lucanis is stuck on during inner demons, and the exchange that you have very nicely broken down is what he hears echoes of, this is where he knows it started to go wrong

probably the worst part is lucanis WOULD have worked himself to death and it takes the series of events in veilguard for lucanis to see other options for his life, and still he ends up being shoehorned into first talon by the end of the quest. i thought his quest would parallel iron bull’s, in that rook shows them that living outside and away from crow influence is possible, and that he is much more than the weapon they turned him into, but it ofc doesn’t go through like that. it’s genuinely a bit heartbreaking that lucanis finally has support and like. FRIENDS. but with the way the game ends he’s pulled back into the crows and to a life that will be about protecting a cousin that the organisation he runs hates, and for as long as caterina lives, unable to say no to her. and meanwhile after lucanis has made connections outside of the crows, illario has absolutely nothing left (prison of his own making i get it but i still want to get his ass out of there. 😭) so the codependency that they used to share is gone as well. maybe lucanis has a foot out the door but i genuinely have no idea how illario goes on after this

[lilia-calderus-pet-goat]

This is a very sleep deprived thought—and I don't actually believe it, per se—but.

I've seen a lot of people who are deeply unsatisfied with the retcon of it being Agatha that bound Jen's magic. Mainly, because it felt like shoe-honing. Especially since Agatha made such a point about going out of her way to not kill Jen despite hating her, because she respected her work too much.

I think many interested discussions can be had about this. I've talked about this before—the fact that Jen's character felt sort of neglected in the finale, and the fact a lot of people struggled to connect with her prior to rewatches. (I myself didn't have this problem, but still, my criticisms are still of the same nature-)

So anyway, Agatha probably chose to bind Jen to keep her out of the way, not realising the weight of that, the intersectionality—perhaps not caring about the suggesting very much at all. Because, you're a midwife, Jen. You can still do good. You will do good, just out of my way. And I truly do believe this is how it went.

But what if Agatha hadn't been the one to bind her? What if, in a brief moment of clarity, Agatha locked in to get everyone out? Her movements are always supposed to be calculated, so is carelessness really in her repertoire?

Maybe, just maybe, she heard Jen say that, “I'll be damned if I let one of you two idiots die,” and that triggered her. Maybe because of pride—god knows she was overwhelmed before the final trial and all her walls had come right back up. But the same didn't apply to Jennifer. She had actually changed. Jen had actually re-discovered her worth. She'd remembered who she was, power or not. She was someone Agatha respected in spite of the resentment. Someome who heals, nurtures, helps, does good. Not the vain, surface-level, self-serving fraud—who had previously been on a dark path too similar to Agatha's own, so close to complete cynicism. Lilia had saved Jen from that path and oushed her to be the path ahead. The Obstacles? Agatha.

And Agatha won't accept Jen's help—not after what happened to Alice, which to Agatha's & Billy's eyes alike stands as evidence of the fact she is a monster. She won't even accept to acknowledge her own character development, as a mere episode ago she jumped in front of a sword to save Lilia. She won't, above all, acknowledge that Jen has grown to care about her. Instead, she will do everything tomake that kdea crumble. She will destroy it.

All she needs to do is shape the narrative Billy truly thinks is true, and so it can become the truth. Billy, who created the condition in which it was possible for Alice to break her generational curse. Who found the spirits of Evanora and Nicky alike. All the trials were his limited understanding of the coven & of witch folk. (Jen's was right out of her vision board, she looked like one of her clients—nothing like the rootworker midwife we know she used to be. Alice's is in the seventies, which mathematically makes no sense with her age as she would have been born in the eighties to be the age she is on 2025—but Billy based everything about her trial on Lorna, because that's what he was familiar with. Agatha's mind he couldn't read—all he knew about her was that something happened to her son. So he puts a grown woman in children's clothing, to force therapy on her—and she regresses into the hurt little girl she was at the stake. Lilia, whose mind is the loudest & most easily accessible to Billy, had the most personalised trial, but even then, it latches onto the witch stereotypes that she so desperately hates. All of those do help the girls—minus Agatha—but still don't fully represent them. As for the green witch trial, well, it took him a while to cook it up, because he just found out Rio is death. Anyway, I digress—) My point being, if you can shape Billy's understanding of a situation, you can have some power over what happens. (One trial for each witch, the public transport system, etc.)

Would it be such an impossible stretch to say Agatha painted herself as the villain once more, embracing the part presented to her, the oart most familiar, the oart she knows best to simultaneously reject Jen's offered sisterhood/peace/altruism AND make sure the road gave Jen her powers back? She gets Jen out of the way—go do good again, just out of my way—because she's hellbent on the narrative that Agatha Harkness can't be anything but a covenless witch.

And what's the next thing she does, after assuring Billy that the road took Jen to safety after giving her what she wants?

She tries to get what she wants, because she knows Billy is in no real danger in his own road. Give me a little power-boost, dungeon master, get me out of here, come on. But he doesn't trust her. And if he doesn't trust her—she can't possibly convince him to willingly hand himself over to Rio.

So she gives him what he needs, what he wants from the road. She guides him—cradles his head and helps him fight the guilt, she helps him save Tommy. The second abomination that Lady Death was trying to prevent has already been re-born, but Rio's too busy playing mother-knows-best in suburbia on Agatha's rooftop.

So Agatha gets Billy out, accepts that, “sometimes boys die,” that death herself can't be blamed for Nicky—she forgives Rio—and starts to mourn herself. She's gotten Jen & Billy out. She can stay here and die the villain. But the road presents her with the opportunity to live—from death, life—(she also realises right then that Nicky was also Rio's, btw)—and she makes her dramatic exit. The rest is... A different post.

[cmyk-anaglyph-honeycomb]

Helluva Boss S2 E11

(this is mostly in order but not really. I have a lot of thoughts and its 1am) How did stella know about the 'break up' in the first place? Was she also at the party or did someone she know go? Did she hear it through the grapevine of imps she defiantly talks too? So that on the run shit was just for the trailer huh? Actually thought this was going to get interesting, my mistake. I should've known better. Luna being muzzled is decent world building on how she is just viewed as an animal. But also her character does so little outside of being blitzo's daughter or a hazard to Moxxie that she could have just been an actual dog with aggression issues. Why is Andrealphus focused on pointing the blame on Blitzo and not Stolas? The book was getting miss-used either way and Stolas was his actual aim, so why try to write him off? Also, why is he so against stolas. At this point it can't just be for Stella because it doesn't seem like he likes her. At this point I'm waiting for it to be a thing where Andrealphus arranged for Stella and Stolas's marriage to gain power from his family or something. He is putting in too much effort for it just to be out of pettiness. Who is Vassago and why is he here? Dude is a prop not a character. If Andrealphus (god I hate his name) would have just had Stolas on trial at first and the imps were just witnesses that would flow better. [sidenote: It could have been a thing where IMP would have greatly benefited from condemning stolas and Blitzo choses to tell the truth and cost to himself to help Stolas out. It would show stolas that Blitzo actually cared.] Not a fan of how the other deadly sins are just dropped on us without much fan fair. They were kinda the one thing I was looking forward too. It really felt like the musical part was crafted first and everything else was written around it. What was the point of satan singing about how he is the top boss and all that? No one was saying how they are the mastermind of hell or anything, just this one collection of bullshit. We get it big man, you're in charge. (Sidenote: I do like his design, its kinda basic for a satan character, but still good. I love his voice when speaking and singing. The song he sings is good, the point of it is not.) So there are zero stakes in this show. None. Kinda makes it hard to care about the outcome if everything has a soft ending. Stolas loses his powers, that we rarely see him use. He can't see his daughter, that we barely see him around. He loses nothing that we see him show any interest or care given too. Stella's evil smile means nothing either. She is a nothing character to make Stolas look better. At this point she shouldn't be in the show she does so little. Why was this trial about Andrealphus and not her? If stella was supposed to be this super evil and manipulative character why is she so far on the back burner for her own plan? Would have been a great time to have a woman character actually do something out of their own desire shitty or not, instead of just helping out some man but okay. Andrealphus should've just been Stolas's shit brother who wanted his power instead of wasting our time with Stella. *That's all I got in me for right now. Again its 1am after black friday and my ass works retail so I'm done thinking for now. Might come back to this later.*

[justaticklishdeer]

Radio's Not Dead

hi. this is a bitttt more heavy than the stuff I usually post (its still a tickle fic!) but I felt like traumatizing alastor.

ler Rosie, lee alastor

TWS (there's a lot to unpack): Implied non con, panic attack, mental breakdown, arguing, light sh, that vibe. its a lot and I'm so sorry.

again, I am so terribly sorry for traumatizing him and being a bit heavy with it <3

Word count: 2k

It had been seven years. Seven years since Alastor had been heard from or seen anywhere in Pentagram City. It seemed so empty without the looming threat of a wendigo-like Overlord haunting the residents. Rosie was in her emporium, working with her clients as usual. She herself had wondered where Alastor had gone all those years. He had up and left without any words, any trace, and hint as to where he was. She sighs softly, pacing the emporium. Of course, Hell had settled down quite a bit after Alastor left.

But Rosie? She was left wondering where he had gone. All these years and not a single thing had been said to her about his whereabouts. It left her worried. She had been used to Alastor just randomly disappearing for a week or two (he supposedly had been self isolating,) but for him to go seven years without telling her? Concerning.

She snaps out of her trance-like state as a client walks up to her, asking about some of the essentials in her shop and how to use them. She walks them through the steps and watches as they wander off. After around an hour, she closes down the emporium for the night. All was quiet. She sighs, walking to prepare herself a cup of late night tea. 

Rosie sits down with her tea, quietly reading her book she had with her. A knock came to the door and she tilted her head. Nobody should’ve been here this late at night, especially after she had closed down for the night. “I’ll be there in a moment!” she calls out, setting down her things and going to the door. A disheveled, messy deer stood there. Alastor. 

‘Rosie-’ he starts. She shakes her head, walking a few steps back. ‘You–’ she cut herself off. ‘Seven years. Seven years, Alastor. And you didn’t think to come tell me? You never thought to warn me before you left for that long?” Rosie paces, her nails digging into her palm from the effort of trying not to cry. 

“Rosie, I-I couldn’t, it was sudden, I-’ Alastor tried, tears already pricking at the corners of his eyes. They burnt his eyes, making him actually start to cry. ‘Rosie! I-I didn’t mean to-to leave you, I-’ He takes a step forward, stumbling on his hooves. “Please…’ 

Rosie looks at him, somewhat angry, but also confused. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? You better have a damn good reason for leaving that long,’ she snaps at him. Through her anger and confusion, she didn’t fully notice how much Alastor was trembling. Alastor takes a step toward her, trying to grab for her hands. She steps back, not ready to accept whatever he had to say. He breaks down crying.

Rosie continues to talk. ‘Seven years! You couldn’t have left a note, or had someone tell me?” 

‘It was a deal, Rosie! I-I–my soul isn’t mine entirely anymore! I couldn’t–it was to save myself, it-’ he couldn’t get a full sentence out through frantic, panicked sobs. His body trembled and he pulled at his hair, pulling some out from how stressed he was. Alastor clings to himself, to try to cling to what sense of himself he had left. It all felt so empty, and did Rosie hate him now too?

Rosie stares at him in disbelief. ‘You sold your soul? Are you insane? You couldn’t have come to visit me first, you had to go to the hotel first?” She paces the room, her heels clicking on the floor. Alastor could be heard making another choked sob noise. ‘I couldn’t–my command–my-my order, her–she wanted��I couldn’t come first, Rosie, I–’ His cries got more frantic. ‘Please-’ 

Rosie continues. ‘You couldn’t have told your soul owner–soul owner!--to let you visit here first? I understand that you needed to go to the hotel, but you could’ve come to explain your situation to me!” she paces off into the kitchen to do something. 

As soon as she goes into the kitchen, Alastor absolutely breaks down sobbing. He clutches at his coat, his clothes, anything. He digs his claws into his palms only to feel pain from it. And somehow, it felt good. To finally have an outlet rather than just sobbing his eyes out when his soul owner abused him. No wonder he felt like shit.

“Rosie–?!’ he cries out. Trying to get her to come back, trying to get her to not leave him like everyone else did. Vox–he didn’t remember all too well. He just remembered Vox had tried to force himself onto Alastor, force himself onto him just to use him as some toy and leave. Alastor had been left broken, bruised, mentally shattered from the sheer absurdity of it all. He missed Vox in some twisted way. It was mainly the manipulation he had been put through of trying to please Vox so he would stay. 

He had done everything he could think of to please Vox. Ridiculous shows, being on television (once), writing the show scripts, laughing with him, being his lee to toy with. But then, Vox had gotten more touchy in ways he hadn’t liked. And when he spoke up, it all happened. 

He sobs harder, all his trauma seemingly coming back to him in waves. 

“Please, please, don’t leave me, you–only one I have left, please–I can't–don’t leave, please-’ Alastor sobs, frantically trying to cling to reality. He didn’t want to slip back into the hell he had already been through, he couldn’t do that again. He didn’t know he was going to go through all that. What Roo had put him through to even get his soul… He was trembling, and felt freezing. He pulled at his deer ears, clinging and digging his claws into them until he felt warm blood drip down his fingers. 

Nothing felt entirely there. He had almost forgotten Rosie was even there. ‘Please, please, don’t leave me, please–please–’ he begs, sobbing as he rocks himself. He could feel the blood still dripping down his fingers as he dug harder into his ears. ‘Please, I can’t lose you too, please, Rosie, please, please-’ Alastor clutched at his ears still. Then moved to pull at his hair again, pulling some out from the sheer panic and stress of thinking he was about to lose his closest friend, his mother figure, his platonic partner. 

‘Please…’ he whispers. 

Rosie was about to say something else, when she noticed the blood on her floor and the trembling, sobbing, broken soul on the ground. She sighs softly, pinching the bridge of her nose. ‘Alastor…’ She grabs his wrists, moving his hands off his ears. ‘Don’t, please. You’re bleeding. I’m sorry for yelling.’ She kneels down to take him into her arms. Alastor hiccups, his tears slowly stopping at the familiar warmth of her holding him. ‘I-I made a deal, th-that’s why I was gone,’ he whispers through trembles and hiccups.

Rosie gently strokes his hair. She reaches over to clean the wounds on his ears gently, taking warm water and a mild soap to clean the cuts. Alastor lets it happen, using his own magic to help assist with the healing. ‘You couldn’t tell me before you left? Shh, I’m not leaving. Don’t cry,’ she reminded gently when his breath hitched at the question. 

“I-I couldn’t say anything. R–’ the name caught in his throat as he tried to say it. Right. He couldn’t mention anything about the details of the deal he had made with Roo. He switches his words. ‘M-My soul isn’t…mine, Rosie.’ Rosie nods slightly, taking in what he had been through. From the looks of his earlier breakdown, he had been through a lot for the deal to be made. ‘Honey, are you able to tell me what happened?’ a shake of the head was her answer.

Rosie makes a soft noise, acknowledging his response. ‘Okay. Is there…is there anything you want me to do to try to help you recover from it? I just want to try to help you, sweetie. Nothing harmful.’ Alastor nods meekly. She gently sets him down on a nearby armchair. ‘Tea?” she asks softly. He nods, knowing she knew how to make it to his preference. 

She grabs the tea and brings it back to him. It had calming properties, which helped him be much more relaxed. Alastor smiles up at her, genuine. She returns the smile. ‘How are you feeling, sweetheart?” 

‘Happy. Relaxed. Good.’ Alastor swings his hooves, staring at them. They needed care, considering he hadn’t been able to care for them himself due to certain events. She chuckles softly. Alastor snuggles up to her, his tail wagging slow. This was the Alastor she knew. Not the one from earlier, not the intimidating radio host persona. Her Alastor. The soft, vulnerable little fawn she had found all those years ago when he dropped down to Hell. 

The one she had gently taught the rules of Hell to, the one she had taught how to grow and become one of Hell’s overlords. And clearly, she had done a good job of it. Alastor was half asleep on her. She felt a pang of guilt at seeing the blood still on the fur of his ears. She would admit she was a bit over reactive, but when someone you loved just vanished like that without a trace and came back with no explanation? It was hard to react ‘properly.’ 

Alastor snuggled up to her more. He clung to her like a lifeline, as if terrified she’d leave at any second. ‘Please don’t leave. Or hurt me,’ he pleads quietly. Her heart nearly broke at that. ‘I’m not going to hurt you, my fawn. You know I wouldn’t ever hurt you.’ Rosie strokes his ears gently to help lull him to sleep. She could feel herself getting tired as well. Alastor nods, slowly falling asleep. Every so often, his body would jerk him back awake. As Rosie kept stroking his ears, he fell asleep. Rosie did as well.

She woke up to him wanting her attention. Something she had always adored. He nuzzles up to her with a deer-like purr. Rosie laughs softly. ‘Always wanting pets, aren’t you?’ she comments, scritching behind his ears. He giggles softly, tilting his head. ‘Still ticklish, hun?’ She scribbles gently up and down his ears. He makes a little fawn squeak noise, nodding as he trembles from giggles and tries to get away. But the other part of him told him to push into it, to finally enjoy something. It was an amazing feeling compared to the abuse Roo had put him through.

Rosie seemed to notice and sighed gently. ‘You know, you can enjoy things again. It’s alright.’ 

She scribbles up and down the sides of his neck, which had purely childish giggles coming from him. It felt so nice to have gentle touches. “Mmm! Mhmhm!’ his tail begins to wag happily. He squirms a little, but not nearly enough to get away. He bleats like a fawn as Rosie’s long nails scritch under the fur to get to the sensitive skin behind his ears. It felt so hellishly ticklish. He arched his back as his ears flicked and tried to flatten from how much it was. He giggles all too happily.

‘Rohose–Rohohosie!’ he squeaks. Alastor’s giggles were light and airy as she scribbled up and down his neck again. Rosie smiles softly, murmuring, “You just needed a way to relax, honeybuck. And this is my way of helping.’ She gives him gentle tickles, up and down his neck, fluttering fingers around his ears, running her claws up and down his arms–a place he didn’t know could bring so much comfort, but it did. 

Alastor grinned up at her, all happy as his hooves kicked lightly. He wanted her to stay around his neck and arms, so that’s what she did. As his soft, happy giggles filled the room, Rosie could only think of one thing.

She was going to help him regain his strength, to help him try to heal from all the trauma that had happened to him during those seven years. She was sure, with enough work and care and effort, it was possible.